Wading Into Murder (19 page)

After an early lunch the next day, the group returned to Bath, with Alan once more driving. The bus looked pathetically empty. Dr. Bernstein was still being held, and Violet had accompanied a nervous but resigned looking Claudine to the police station for yet another interview. Hans hadn’t come back, which left only Laura and Rachel, Lady Longtree, William and the Takaras. No one said much during the trip. It was hard to know what to say. The usual discussion of the weather or the passing countryside sounded ridiculous when everyone’s mind was occupied with the case.

Mrs. Takara, who was sitting behind Laura, broke the strained silence. Leaning over the seat, she commented once more on Laura’s ordeal, as she insisted on calling it. “That man who came after you was not nice,” she said in a subdued tone. “Once, a man like that came after one of my girls. She was so frightened. She was crying and crying for many days. You are very brave, I think.”

“How many daughters do you have?” Laura asked politely in an effort to lure Mrs. Takara away from the overworked subject of her escape.

Mrs. Takara uttered her tinkling laugh. “Oh, so many girls come to me for advice it is hard to remember which are my own!” she exclaimed. “They are all my daughters, I tell them.” She leaned further forward to whisper into Laura’s ear. “I wonder if that man came after Amy too. Perhaps that was why she did such a terrible thing…

“But we must not speak of this. It is too soon, is it not? Still, I cannot help but wonder whether he… well, if he was not
nice
to her but she could not speak of the attack because she was shamed. It is like that with some of the girls.”

Nodding her head sagaciously, Mrs. Takara leaned back against her seat. “Yes, it is so, is it not?” she murmured, apparently to her husband, who didn’t reply.

Laura didn’t reply either. The idea that Amy had killed herself because she had been raped, which Mrs. Takara seemed to be implying by way of polite euphemisms, sounded ridiculous to her.

Alan was next to break the silence. “Arrangements have been made for all of you to stay at the hotel where we stayed before,” he explained. “I hope you will try to enjoy some of the attractions near Bath that we have not yet visited despite… despite what has happened. Elise, our guide in Bath, has offered her services for those who wish to take a guided tour of any kind. As you are aware, she knows the area well.”

His voice bore none of its former cheer and there were lines in his face Laura hadn’t noticed before. She wondered again what his role was in this case. He didn’t seem to be a suspect, since he was driving the bus. Why then had he hired Abdul?

Richard, who came to see her later in the day, had unearthed the answer to that question from one of his many contacts in former investigative days.

“Alan had no reason to suspect him,” he explained. “He checked out Abdul’s credentials and got excellent recommendations from people purporting to be former employers. Unfortunately for all of us, they were fakes, thanks to Roger Brown, who no doubt has plenty of acquaintances who make fake ID’s.

“That was well-planned,” Laura mused. “Some of the things that have happened in this case seem opportunistic – acted on at the last minute when the circumstances were right, like my accidents, but others seem impeccably planned and brilliantly executed. It makes me wonder if there’s more than one group involved.”

“Or they’ve had to improvise with you getting in their way and Violet on their heels,” Richard answered. “Still, I’ll try to find out if other groups are competing with the Saudi lot. There’s plenty of money to be made selling babies.”

“Be careful,” Laura warned. “These people really are dangerous.”

Richard grinned. “I will. I’m like Lucy, though. Can’t resist sniffing.

“Where’s your guard?” he added suddenly. “Rachel I mean. And who’s that guy outside your door?”

“Rachel is enjoying a well-deserved day off,” Laura answered, “and the man outside is my temporary guard. I can’t go outside the hotel without an escort until Rachel gets back. It’s a nuisance.”

“I’m sure you’ll be allowed out in another day or two,” Richard answered optimistically. “In the meantime, stay put. Someone seems to have quite a grudge against you.” He gave her a quick brotherly hug and went whistling out the door.

He returned within a few minutes. “Almost forgot! I just heard that the Swiss guy, Hans, was arrested at the airport. Before he even got to the gate, two policemen grabbed his arms and escorted him to the proverbial waiting car.”

With a cheerful wave, he left again.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Laura sank back on the bed, dumbfounded. Could Hans really be the master mind behind all this? It was hard to believe. She hadn’t liked that gloating look on his face, but she hadn’t thought of him as a full-fledged criminal!

Another knock on the door brought her to her feet. Maybe it would be Violet, ready to explain. It wasn’t. Instead, Claudine stood at the door, looking distraught.

“Sorry,” Claudine apologized, attempting the tight-lipped smile Laura had seen before. “I didn’t mean to come in here looking upset. I’ve had a nasty time at the police station. They keep asking the same questions over and over. I hate it. But that’s not your problem.”

“It sounds awful,” Laura agreed sympathetically.

Claudine grimaced. “It is but I’ve survived worse. I’m more worried about my husband than me. He really did get himself involved in something nasty this time. But that’s another story, too.

“How are you by the way? I gather you had a merry chase through the Safari Park. You do seem to have a knack for that sort of thing.”

Laura laughed. “I like the description. And I’m fine if a bit tired.”

“You’re a survivor too,” Claudine commented matter-of-factly. “Actually, I came to ask about something else,” she went on hesitantly. “It’s harder, for me anyway. It’s about Richard. I gather you two have seen a lot of each other, so I wanted to check, to see if you…

“Oh really, I can’t believe I’m saying these things. Me, the cold-blooded bitch. But I mean it. I’ll get out of the way if you’re interested in him. So for god’s sake say something so I can get off this subject.”

Laura smiled at her. “Claudine, all I can say is that I wish you both well and I think it’s great. I like Richard very much but not in that way. So he’s all yours and for goodness sake start enjoying what you’ve found together in spite of the mess we all seem to be in.”

Claudine’s face lit up. “You really mean it, don’t you? Richard said it was true but I had to find out for myself.”

“I do mean it. So divorce that disaster of a husband of yours and marry him. Or just live with him if that’s easier.”

Claudine laughed – the first genuine laughter Laura had heard from her. “I can just see it. I’ll get the divorce papers in order before I get hauled off to jail while I figure out how long you have to wait to get married again. I wonder what the judge will say.”

Laura grinned. One very brave woman, she thought with respect, no matter what she might have done.  “I wish he’d say
good for you
but I doubt he can let his dignity down long enough,” she replied. “So I’ll say it.”

“Thanks. I’ll go find Richard then and we’ll get busy enjoying ourselves. We might not have long.”

Laura frowned. “That sounds ominous.”

“Yeah, it is.” Claudine sighed. “I did hide the clothes for the damned man, a terrible mistake, but he threatened me with all sorts of stuff if I didn’t.”

“Abdul?” Laura asked.

Claudine looked surprised. “No, not Abdul. I guess he wore the clothes, but he’s not the one who threatened me. That was the guy who stalked you. Ludwig told him to ask me. I didn’t want anything to do with him, but I didn’t have much choice.

“He’s a bastard,” she added. “He gets his kicks out of terrifying women and beating them up, but he likes money even more. Oodles of it in the baby stealing game. I don’t know who he sells the poor kids to, but I wish I did. I’d try to stop him myself.”

“That’s courageous,” Laura said, impressed at Claudine’s determined tone. “He’s a very frightening man.”

“And smart, or more likely my husband is really dumb. The guy plays him like a violin. That wasn’t some psychic up those stairs, you know. Roger Brown arranged an 
interview,
as Ludwig calls them, which means some poor mixed up kid on drugs selling sex to make a few extra bucks – if Ludwig is still capable of participating in that activity, which I doubt.

“He really is a disaster, like you said,” she went on in disgust. “Into all that gross stuff with boys but he somehow fools himself into thinking its okay, that the kids like him. It’s amazing how he can turn things upside down. The worst part is that he has to pay the guy back, do him favors in return, but I’m damned if I know what they are.”

“It must have had something to do with this baby-stealing group,” Laura inserted into this fascinating tirade. “Could he have helped them somehow?”

Claudine shook her head. “I’ve racked my brains to figure it out but I haven’t had much luck so far. Maybe they’ll get it out of him at the police station. He’s terrified, I do know that much. If he knows anything, he’ll talk.”

“Have you told the police all this?”“ Laura asked sharply.

“Sure have. Three times at least.” Claudine hesitated. “I think they’re getting somewhere. That’s my instinct anyway. But for god’s sake don’t talk about what I’ve said to anyone else or they’ll be after me for that.”

“As long as the police know, I’ll keep it to myself,” Laura promised. “I have one more question though, if you can answer it. I assume you had the clothes - the disguise worn by whoever pushed me into the street - in your shopping bag and then hid them in the garbage bin, but were you Maisie too, and was that you rummaging through the garbage can the next day?”

“No to the last two and yes to the first,” Claudine answered promptly. “I hid the clothes in the rubbish bin before I got back on the bus but that was the last I saw of them. Didn’t want to, either – or that garbage bin. Who’s Maisie?”

“Just a bag lady who never existed,” Laura answered enigmatically.

Claudine’s well-arched eyebrows went up. “Right now, I’m not sure I even want to know what that means.”

“I’m not sure I do either,” Laura admitted, trying not to think of the dead Peg.

Claudine’s eyebrows rose further, but she didn’t ask more questions. “Thanks for talking to me,” she said instead, going to the door. “I didn’t mean to go on for so long, but you’re the only one I dare talk to, and it’s a relief.”

“Another quick question,” Laura called after her. “Can you remember where you were the night I was in that horrible cellar?”

“Right here in bed,” Claudine answered. “Alone, I fear. Sorry.”

“Thanks anyway,” Laura said. She lay back against the pillows again and tried to get her thoughts in order. To her horror, Mrs. Takara tiptoed through the door after the briefest of knocks. “You are tired, so I will not stay,” she began as she perched on a chair. “I came only to make sure you join us tomorrow. We have engaged Elise to show us more of the sights around Bath. She spoke of some caves; they are in the Cheddar Gorge, I think they call it, like the cheese, and she will take us there first. They have very strange names for places, these English.”

Laura opened her mouth to frame a polite refusal but Mrs. Takara forestalled her with a raised hand. “It is not good for you to and brood about what happened,” she insisted. “No, it is very bad. So I will not take excuses. I will fetch you myself.”

“I don’t think I will be able to go,” Laura protested weakly. “The police want me to stay here and only go out with a police escort.”

Mrs. Takara was unmoved. “They will let you come, I am sure of it. That man Hans has been arrested and you are safe now.” She nodded her head wisely. “I knew from the beginning that he did not have a good character, but they would not listen to me when I told them. I have talked to the police about why I had to say I pushed you that first time, too, and why I said that it was the stout lady on those stairs.”

She leaned over the bed and spoke in a confidential whisper. “The police know those were accidents, that it was not his fault. I do not like to talk of this publicly because my husband is so…

“Well, for men in Japan it is impossible to admit that something is wrong with them and he gets very angry if I speak of it.” She stopped and bit her lip uncertainly, as if as if fearful of being overheard even in here.

“Speak of what?” Laura asked, wondering what all this was about.

Reluctantly, Mrs. Takara complied. “He has this dizziness sometimes, you see, and he stumbles. I try to be closest to him so I can catch him but I cannot always move fast enough. It was the steep stairs. They made him… what is the word? Disoriented perhaps? That is when it happens. He stumbles and cannot right himself, and then if he falls… well, he cannot stop. It is a disease some people get of balance, but I do not know the name in English.

“I try to save him from the embarrassment,” she went on with pathetic dignity. “That is the proper duty of a wife in my country. She must not let a man lose face. All the family suffers then.

“But we will not speak of this any more. You must rest. Do not worry. I will fix everything for you tomorrow. Sleep well!” She hustled out of the room again before Laura had another chance to open her mouth.

She lay back on the pillow, her mind whirling. Too many revelations, too fast. Sleep was what she needed. Pushing all thoughts of the case out of her mind, Laura managed to fall into a light doze that lasted until the next knock on her door.

This time, thankfully, it was Violet, once more bearing tea. “I don’t think I have ever in my life drunk so much of this stuff,” she complained as she set the tray down. “You always seem to need it so badly.”

“I do now. My head is positively swimming in confusion,” Laura told her. “Besides, I adore the service. It comes even before I have to ask.”

“I shall add to the confusion,” Violet said with a grin. “Roger Brown actually divulged some information. I want you to know what he said for your own protection but do not, and I mean
not
, allow what I say to affect your treatment of the person in question.”

“I’ll do my very best,” Laura promised. “What did he say?”

“He said that he was once married to Claudine and that she took him for all he was worth,” Violet stated. “That’s why he began selling babies, to recoup. He seemed very bitter about it. I don’t think many women get the best of Roger.

“He used another name then,” she added. “That’s why we didn’t know before.”

Laura gaped at her. “Claudine? But she told me she married Dr. Bernstein to get away from being a cocktail waitress. And she was just here, saying…”

Violet interrupted. “Claudine is a master at saying whatever works best in a given situation. I suspect Roger Brown rescued her from the cocktail job – if his attentions can be construed as a rescue, and she married Ludwig to get away from Roger Brown. In the meantime, she liberated Roger from his money. She’s a very clever lady.”

“I guess this puts her at the top of the list as possible master criminal,” Laura agreed glumly. “She certainly had me fooled. I really admired her. She doesn’t have much of an alibi for the time I heard the icy lady, either. In bed alone, she says.”

“I checked out her statement and no one saw her leave, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t,” Violet said. “And I admire her too, but she could still be guilty. She could have teamed up again with Roger, so I want you on your guard.”

“I will be,” Laura agreed. “But if you think Claudine could be the culprit, why was Hans arrested?

“Who told you that?” Violet asked sharply.

“Richard. I guess he got it from his London friends.”

Violet sighed heavily. “Damn that reporter! And those clods of policemen. They were supposed to be discreet.” She hesitated. “All I can say at the moment is that Hans is helping the police with their investigation. And for goodness sake, don’t talk about it in front of anyone else.”

“All right,” Laura agreed. “I won’t talk. But as soon as you can tell me what’s going on and why you think Hans is implicated, please do.”

Violet nodded. “I will. I don’t think it will be long now.”

Her tone changed. “I’m going to leave you to have a nice long shower, which you seem to adore almost as much as tea,” she pronounced, “and then we’re going to have a walk and some dinner. I need to clear my mind and I imagine you do too.”

“I’ve begun to wonder if I have a mind to clear,” Laura replied. “I think that crack on the head must have affected it more than I realized.”

“Not unusual with a concussion to feel fuzzy for a while,” Violet assured her. “Besides, you haven’t had a break ever since.”

“I slept for almost two days,” Laura pointed out.

“With multiple interruptions and lots of mental stimulation,” Violet rejoined, “as well as a hair-raising escape from that ghastly man.”

“True,” Laura agreed. “I do hope nothing more happens today. I’m not sure I could handle it.”

“With you around,” Violet retorted, “that cannot be guaranteed.”

About half and hour later, Violet reappeared and escorted Laura downstairs. Lady Longtree, who had decided to join them, was waiting in the hotel lobby. The limp she had affected earlier had disappeared, and her pace when they set off was so brisk Laura had trouble keeping up.

 “Shall we try this bistro?” Violet suggested after they had walked for about half an hour. She indicated a small ethnic restaurant up the street.

“It looks very pleasant,” Lady Longtree replied, “and more interesting than those big establishments near the Baths.”

“Less expensive, too,” Laura pointed out. “I think it’s a great idea. This is the area where the baby’s mother vanished, so we might even overhear some more clues.”

“It seems to me we have an overabundance of them,” Violet replied humorously. “I’m having trouble integrating them as it is.”

The dim interior of the restaurant made Laura think of Casablanca, the sultry, mysterious look on Lauren Bacall’s face, and Humphrey Bogart’s seductively twisted smile. Those two would feel at home here. The air wasn’t as smoky, but the bistro had the same atmosphere, the same look of shabby sophistication that characterized so many ethnic restaurants. Always candles or some kind of dim lighting, and carelessly laid tables that nonetheless displayed gleaming white linens.

They were ushered to a table near the back. There were a few curious stares as they walked by, probably because they were women unaccompanied by men, but after that no one paid much attention to them.

Laura looked around with unfeigned interest. The people at the tables around them were a mixed group, some pale skinned and English-looking, others with darker faces and middle-eastern dress. Most were men, but she saw quite a few women, too. Some wore headscarves, others had uncovered hair, and all of them were engaged in intense and absorbing discussions.