Vengeance in the Sun (18 page)

“Steve did try to stop it. Or would have done. I don't think he knew what Bradley had in mind. Not till it was too late. Bradley brought us back to the villa, gagged us, went inside and told Mario I was responsible for Danielle's kidnap, making quite sure I would also be thought responsible for her death, and then with Steve taking Danny in the Audi, he took me in the Fiat and arranged to meet Steve at the Devesas.”

“The Devesas?”

“The hairpin bends on the highest point of the mountain road. He meant to put both Danny and myself into the one car, send it over the cliff edge, have me blamed for the kidnapping and Danny's death. What reason he was going to come up with I don't know. Knowing Bradley he would have had it all carefully planned out.”

The big car slowed to a standstill beside the fountain.

“What happened?” Max asked gently.

I took a deep breath. “As we rounded the last bend I could see the Audi pulled off the road under the trees, and Steve some yards away from it. My only thought was to stop what was going to happen and I thought if I could smash Bradley's side of the car into the cliff face … I grabbed the wheel and the car veered and Bradley flung me to one side and tried to get control but it was too late. I flung myself across him, tugging down on the wheel again and we went rocketing into the cliff. I remember seeing Steve … and then nothing but colour and lights and sounds … when I came to I crawled out of the car. It had ricocheted back across the road to the cliff edge. Seconds later it went over. Bradley was still in it.”

“Was Steve dead?”

“Yes. I felt his pulse. He hadn't stood a chance. I simply left him there, drove the Audi round him and came back to the villa.

Max's arms tightened around me.

“Then Mario accused me of being a murderess and kidnapping Danny and told Leonie to telephone the police. He left the room to get something to stop the bleeding.”

“Bleeding?” Max asked sharply.

“I cut my leg getting out of the car. While he was out of the room Leonie suggested I make a break for it and go to you.”

Max was frowning.

“As I reached the cars I put the estate out of action so Mario couldn't follow me. He knows this headland like the back of his hand and would easily have caught up with me. I could hear them running after me as I left.”

Max said, as if he were thinking of something else: “Let's go inside and wait for the police. They're not fools. They'll listen to you, and to Danielle as well.”

Tenderly he drew me to his feet, his eyes darkening as he saw the blood-soaked headsquare that bound my leg. Then, despite my not very strong protests, he picked me up in his arms and began to walk with me through the silent corridors of the villa D'Este, to the lighted rooms where Mario and Leonie waited.

With my head resting on his broad shoulder, my arms clasped tightly around his neck, Max. kicked open the door of the main salon and stood on the threshold. Despite the shock that immobilised both of them for fleeting seconds it was obvious that the atmosphere between Leonie and Mario had deteriorated to one of naked hostility.

Gone was Leonie's poise and elegant langour. Gone the beauty of the soft blonde hair, the upward slanting eyes, the graceful movements of hands and arms. There was no mocking provocation in her green eyes now. They were sunk deep in their sockets, glazed with an emotion I couldn't understand. She stood by the window, her shoulders sagging, her hands grasping a tumblerfull of whisky, the knuckles ugly and white.

Mario looked like a man on the point of explosion. The veins stood out in his neck, and I could see the deep track he had made across the carpeting, crossing and re-crossing, waiting for the police who still had not arrived, consumed with fury at Leonie's treachery in allowing me to escape. Now he stood, staring at me with stunned incredulity. The second lengthened and broke. I was aware of expression returning to Leonie's face and then Mario was charging across the room towards us like a wild bull.

Max dropped me unceremoniously to the floor, tripped the raging fifteen stone mountain of flesh and deftly knelt on top of him, pinioning him in a full nelson.

“
For once in your life, listen you damned fool!
” he shouted breathlessly to the violently struggling Mario. “Lucy wouldn't have come back here if she was guilty of anything! What she told you was the truth. Bradley Van de Naude kidnapped the child,
because
.…” his voice rose louder to drown Mario's roaring protests. “Because Helena Van de Naude ruined his life by marrying his father. He hated her. Hated her for being black. Hated her for changing his father's politics. Hated her for giving him no chance of a political career of his own. With his father as Premier of a black state he stood no chance politically in South Africa, even you must realise that! Helena Van de Naude may not seem black to you, but in Bradley's eyes she was black as Katjavivi. He thought if he could frighten his father enough, his father would step down from the Premiership of Ovambia, leave politics altogether. The only weapon he had was Danielle. He wanted revenge. He wanted it so badly it twisted and warped his mind to the extent that he murdered Janet Grey and Ian Lyall, and was prepared to murder Lucy and Danielle!
Now, will you believe Lucy and listen to her, you stupid old ox!
”

Gradually, while Max spoke, Mario's struggles had lessened. He nodded, and panting Max let him go and rose to his feet.

Mario straightened up slowly.

“Is that the truth?”

I nodded. His fire and rage died pathetically. He sat heavily on a chair, burying his head in his massive hands.

I had been too intent on watching Mario and Max to take any notice of Leonie. Now Max turned to her, saying: “ Telephone them again.”

As he spoke there came the faint sound of a distant door opening and I heard Mario's audible sigh of relief.

“They are here. Now it is in their hands.”

Max's arm closed reassuringly around my shoulders and Leonie said tensely: “ I'll go and meet them. They'll get lost otherwise.”

The familiar drift of Chanel drifted past me and out of the room. Max drew me closer.

“There's nothing to be afraid of, Brat. I shan't leave you. Ever.” His lips found mine and I leaned against him, finding in him all the strength and love I would ever need. For my whole life through I would have Max. An army of police officers could not have shaken the joy I felt.

Seconds stretched into minutes and still Leonie did not appear. When at last she did, she was alone. She seemed to have regained control of herself and there was the faint tinge of colour returning to her cheeks. She said with her old nonchalance: “Only a bloody cat. It had got into one of the rear rooms through the fanlight and couldn't get out again.”

Mario groaned and Max said: “Perhaps you would telephone them for us again, Leonie.”

She shrugged carelessly and we sat in silence, listening to the repeated clicks, to her mutterings of exasperation.

“The line is dead. I can't get anything.”

Max crossed the room and tried himself. When he came back he said briefly: “ The lines must be down.”

“But we must get through to them!” Mario said, rousing himself from his stupour. “Leonie's first message cannot have been understood. If we wait till morning they will not understand. It will look bad for us. Bad for all of us!” He stumbled to his feet. “I will go. I will drive to Palma. I will bring the police. It is the only way.”

Max pressed him gently back into his chair. “I'll go,” he said authoritatively. “I'm the expert driver, remember? If I can't make it to Palma and back in under forty minutes I don't deserve to ever race again!”

Our eyes met and he took hold of my hand.

“Only a little while, Brat. Then we'll have forever.”

I nodded, hoping that all the love I felt for him showed in my eyes, then, with one last tight grip on my hands he turned on his heel and was gone.

Mario remained on his chair, still trying to grasp and understand what had happened. Leonie stood, her head a little to one side, the slight smile back on her face.

“We seem to be in capable hands again. What about a hot drink while we're waiting?”

“Peggy is in bed.…” Mario said without looking at her. “She is sleeping in the child's room.”

“I think we can manage to fend for ourselves,” Leonie said lightly. “ I'll put plenty of sugar in them all. I think we need it.”

Her high heels clicked across the mosaiced hallway and into the kitchen. I leaned back, unutterably weary. Danielle was safe upstairs with Peggy. Mario finally understood. Max had the situation in control. And Max loved me.

I opened my eyes, smiling as Leonie handed me a cup of strong coffee.

“Drink it while it's hot,” she said, handing Mario his and then curling herself up on the sofa. “ We're going to need it, if only to keep awake!”

I sipped the bitter coffee, thankful it wasn't one of Leonie's regular chores.

“The Van de Naudes still won't know Danny is safe,” I said, gazing across the vast room to the silk lined wall and a magnificent portrait of David Katjavivi in African robes. “ None of them will know.”

Mario drained his cup. “ They will know tomorrow. We will telegram and telephone. The police will see to it.”

Leonie said smoothly: “ I doubt if they are worrying to that extent. After all, they will think Ian Lyall has her by now.”

I closed my eyes. I didn't want to think of Ian. Not yet. Not till my physical and emotional strength had returned. The look that had passed between us as he left the cabin to his death would stay with me to the end of my life.

I suddenly realised how tired I was. My eyelids were so heavy with fatigue I could hardly keep them open. Mario too, had leant his head back against his chair, his eyes closed, his breathing becoming deep and regular. Leonie pushed a strand of silky blonde hair away from her face and smiled across at me.

“Tired, too, Lucy?”

My head was too heavy to nod. I smiled weakly in assent. She laughed and in the brilliant light of the chandeliers I saw that her colour had returned, the cat eyes bright and glittering again.

“I expect you feel too tired to move?”

She was right. I tried to lift my hand but it remained stupidly by my side. Then she stretched herself sensually and rose to her feet.

“I have a surprise for you, Lucy. You have had your share of grand entrances lately, but never anything to beat this!” She raised her voice, her eyes holding mine exultantly. “Come in, darling! We're ready for you!”

Slowly the salon door opened. There was blood on his hands and clothes but on his face was a smile.

“Hello, Lucy,” said Bradley Van de Naude.

I heard my breath escape in a gasp and tried vainly to rise to my feet. The narrow lips twisted cruelly.

“There's no escape this time,” he turned to Leonie. “ How long since he left?”

Leonie glanced at her wrist watch. “Twenty minutes, maybe twenty-five.”

“Then we'll wait another five.”

My eyelids were closing, weighed down by invisible weights. With a supreme effort I opened them, struggling to focus on Leonie's face clearly. She stood, hands on her narrow hips, surveying me with amusement.

I said: “You don't understand, Leonie. You can't help him. He's a murderer.”

The golden head tilted further to one side, the curving lips smiling wider.

“It's you that don't understand, my sweet,” She moved forward, linking her arm with his, scarlet nails digging deep into his jacket. “He's my husband.”

My legs, my body, my arms, my head, were all pinioned into the chair with the power of a G force.

“Didn't it ever cross your mind to wonder who
had
drugged Danielle's drinking chocolate if Ian Lyall hadn't?”

She crossed the room, pouring herself another whisky. “I'm not in the habit of paying nursery visits. Especially where that child is concerned.” For once, venom showed through the light mockery. Danielle had been right when she had told me that Leonie Blanchard did not like her. And I had dismissed it as nothing of importance. Nothing that mattered.

“You've had more lucky escapes than you realise, Lucy.” She came back and perched on the arm of the sofa, crossed legs swinging elegantly. “ You can't for one minute have thought I was
serious
about helping you to escape?”

“No.” I said, aware that sensation was returning to my fingers and toes. “You were going to run after me and shoot me. Mario would have understood that. Shooting me whilst I was trying to escape.” I permitted myself a smile that wiped hers off her face. “But you weren't quite quick enough were you? And when you got to the courtyard, the Estate car wouldn't start, would it?”

Her eyes flashed with anger and she leapt forward, smacking my face with the full force of her palm.

“
Don't laugh at me! Don't ever laugh at me!
”

“At least we know why the police never arrived. You never called them. That's the last thing you would have wanted. What were you going to do? Sneak quietly away during the night?”

She had regained her composure, the habitual mocking smile was firmly back in place.

“What I
was
going to do is none of your affair. It's what I'm going to do now that should interest you.”

“And that is?”

Carry out our original plan. And get out of this Godforsaken place!” she glanced round the walls of the room with a shudder of distaste.

I wondered how much longer of our five minutes we had left.

“So everything APFO planned, every single piece of paperwork, went straight to Bradley?”

“And no-one suspected a thing,” she agreed smirkingly. “Once or twice I wondered about Ian .… But I knew we could deal with Ian. We were more worried about Steve.”