Walking in Darkness (11 page)

She woke up screaming. The little hospital room was dimly lit; a nurse hurried in. ‘Are you in pain?’ she asked, bending over Sophie.

For a second Sophie didn’t seem able to talk at all, then she managed to mutter, ‘Sorry, I had a nightmare.’

The nurse seemed unsurprised. ‘That would be the drugs,’ she casually nodded. ‘They can cause bad dreams if you aren’t used to taking them. Would you like some warm milk? That might help. Calm you down a little, more naturally than the drugs.’

‘You’re very kind,’ Sophie said gratefully.

In the cab driving away from the hospital, Lilli turned on Steve, eyes blazing. ‘You lied to me – you aren’t a friend of hers, you’re just a reporter after a story and you haven’t any scruples about getting it, have you? You saw the state she was in – but you still kept on at her, you bastard!’

‘I wasn’t after a story, I was trying to save her life,’ Steve said, biting the words out between tight teeth. ‘You don’t understand what’s going on here, Lilli. Believe me, she’s in danger.’

She tried to read his tense, angry face, but how could you be sure he wasn’t lying? ‘I wish I knew what was going on. Is she mixed up in something? This isn’t spying, is it? Her country isn’t in that business any more, I thought – or is it? Is this politics? The international kind? She isn’t being used to get at Don Gowrie? I remember she asked me a lot of questions about him when she first arrived but I hardly knew a thing about the man. He’s another guy who wants to be president, isn’t he? Is that what this is about?’

‘I wish I knew – you saw her reaction, there’s something she isn’t saying, and it scares the living daylights out of her. She’s got to tell someone what she knows. Until she does there could be another attack on her at any minute, and next time they might get her.’

‘Who are
they?
’ cried Lilli, angry and distressed.

‘Ask Sophie. You know as much as I do.’

She didn’t look convinced. The cab pulled up. Lilli looked out of the window, surprised. ‘Oh, we’re back at my place. Well, goodnight. I’ll pay the fare to here; you can take the cab on to your own place.’

‘The fare is on me. I’ll put it on expenses.’

‘Oh, well, in that case – thanks,’ Lilli said drily.

‘I’m staying at the New Normandy Hotel for the night. Call me if you have any problems.’

Don Gowrie watched his father-in-law light a forbidden cigar, his eyes screwed up against the smoke but a beatific smile on his face. He was the oldest man Don knew, a living fossil, with skin like grey parchment, eyes buried in wrinkles like a tortoise, a few white strands of hair brushed across the pulsing pink dome of his bald head. Yet for all his age he was still very much all there; a shrewd old man with no illusions, an old man who held tightly to the reins of his ancient power, to his wealth and his influence in the world he was in no hurry to leave.

‘Haven’t had one of these for . . . oh, a year at least. Don’t often get off my chain these days,’ Eddie Ramsey told the other old men seated across the table from him, and they all grimaced understandingly.

‘Hardly worth staying alive, the way we get treated, is it?’ one of them said glumly. ‘My daughter hardly lets me breathe for myself! Fuss, fuss, fuss. You wouldn’t believe the time it took to persuade her to let me come tonight. If you hadn’t rung her, Don, she’d never have given in, I know that.’

The old men all laughed, eyeing Gowrie half-admiringly, half-enviously.

‘Sure have got a touch with women. D’you give lessons, Don?’ they flattered, and Eddie Ramsey gave him a sideways look through the scented wreaths of smoke drifting between them.

‘How’s my daughter, Don?’ he asked, swirling brandy in a balloon glass, and dropping his voice so that the mostly deaf old men shouldn’t hear him.

Don was instantly wary. What had the old man heard? Keeping his own tone down, he murmured, ‘No change since you last saw her, but I look after her, don’t worry, Eddie.’ Sweat trickled down his back, making his shirt cling to him. He could not afford to quarrel with his father-in-law; he could not afford to offend the old man’s family instincts. Don’s whole life depended on being married to Eddie Ramsey’s only living child.

Eddie Ramsey took a sip of brandy, closing his eyes in pleasure. ‘Liquid gold. Good stuff, this,’ he said.

‘Have another drop,’ Don said, refilling the glass.

‘Shouldn’t, but I will. One night in the year won’t hurt,’ the old man said, sipped again, then held the glass, swirling the brandy and staring at it. ‘Make sure you do look after Elly, Don. I had no luck with any of my children. All my boys died. Elly was the only one I was left with, and I’ve always had to worry about her. Maybe I shouldn’t have married Matty, maybe my parents were right. They warned me against marrying my cousin, said it wouldn’t do, but I wouldn’t listen, thought I knew better, thought they were just old-fashioned. I loved her and I thought that was all that mattered.’ He finished his brandy slowly, rolling the last drops round his mouth before reluctantly letting them trickle down his throat. ‘I was wrong. D’you know the only thing that really matters, Don?’

Gowrie shook his head, knowing the question was rhetorical.

‘The family, Don. The family. In the last resort we’re only as strong as our family life. Which reminds me, when is that granddaughter of mine going to start a family?’

Gowrie relaxed and smiled. ‘Oh, give them time – they haven’t been married a year yet!’

He got another sharp, narrow glance. ‘She’s happy, though, isn’t she? That fellow’s kind to her? He’s old enough to be her father, that’s what worries me.’

‘He worships the ground she walks on; you don’t need to worry about Paul.’

‘Hmm. I hope you’re right.’ His voice dropped almost to a whisper. ‘Is he OK financially? I mean, he’s not in any trouble with his companies? The other day I heard he sailed pretty close to the wind, was over-borrowed and under-assetted. Was that just hooey or is there some truth in it?’

‘Hooey, pure hooey,’ said Gowrie, mentally crossing his fingers. He knew so little about his son-in-law. When Cathy got engaged to Paul he had tried to run a thorough check on him and his finances but he had found out very little. Paul’s secrets – if he had any – were well protected. Maybe it was time to try again? He had heard whispers himself. He would get on to it.

Watching him with those shrewd, disturbingly clever eyes, Ed Ramsey drawled, ‘Glad to hear it. Hope you’re right, boy. And I’m glad you’re taking Elly with you.’

Don Gowrie met his father-in-law’s eyes. For a while his wife had lived with her parents in Maryland while Don was in Washington. When she became ill, his life there had not suited her, he had been so busy. He had to work a twelve-hour day and then he was out almost every evening because it was vital to see and be seen at parties, receptions, charity functions, dinner parties, balls. It was the way Washington life worked; as much business was done over the card table, or in discreet back rooms at social events, as was done in working hours in offices.

Eleanor was better off in the peace and quiet of Easton, with the sea and the gentle landscape around her family home, with her dogs and horses. After her mother’s death, though, Don had taken Elly back home with him because he could see that the strain of having her with him was too much for the old man now he was alone, and, anyway, it looked better. People were too curious about why his wife lived with her parents instead of with him. He had floated the story that she was at Easton to be with her mother during a long illness, but she couldn’t stay on once her mother was dead. His public image demanded his wife should be seen with him, even if she rarely opened her mouth.

‘Cathy asked me to bring her. She hasn’t seen her mother since the funeral.’

Ed Ramsey sighed. Any reminder of his dead wife made him melancholy. He had married his first cousin and lived happily with her throughout their long lives; he missed her badly, thought of her every day, looking out at the cool morning sky at Easton, remembering how she had loved mornings, winter and summer alike, the glory of pink and gold sunrises in summer, the clear, translucent colours of winter.

‘She’s a good girl. Well, I’ll see Elly tomorrow morning before I fly back. Better have a late breakfast; not used to late nights any more. Shall need my sleep. Say ten o’clock?’

‘She’ll be very happy to see you.’

If she knows what’s going on and recognises you, Don thought. If she isn’t out of her tree, poor Elly. It came and went, her fragile sanity; sometimes she was so normal he felt he imagined those other times, those darker moments. He wished to God he did. She had turned dangerous lately; out of control she was capable of doing things he preferred to forget and would never want his father-in-law to know about. It would destroy Eddie Ramsey.

Steve had only just walked into his hotel room when the phone began to ring. Sophie! he thought at once, leaping to answer it, his heart in his mouth.

‘Steve? It’s Lilli. I’ve been burgled. The whole place has been turned over. They did a real job on Sophie’s room, threw her books all over the floor. Half her stuff has been taken, even her family photos have gone.’

Steve hadn’t expected it, yet he wasn’t surprised. He should have guessed that would come next. Of course they would go through her room. He bet they had taken every scrap of paper they found. Letters, there would be letters – however careful they tried to be, lovers always wrote letters, they had to put it on paper, and the very risk they were running made their fever run higher.

A diary? Oh, yes, she had the look of someone who confided her thoughts and feelings, everything that happened to her, to a diary. Photos? She might even have had a photo or two of them together. In the first driven days of a love-affair a sensible man could lose all sense of caution. Love turned the head, addled the brains.

Had she been in love with Gowrie, though? Or had it all been on his side? Had he pursued her, pestered her? How had they met? How long had it gone on? Steve had so many questions and no answers at all yet. He had to persuade her to talk.

‘Have you rung the police?’

‘Not yet. I rang you first, you said to let you know. You guessed this would happen?’

‘I guessed something would.’ He had been sure they had not finished with Sophie; having failed to kill her they were bound to try again. ‘Wait there, don’t ring the police yet. I’m coming over.’

Lilli hadn’t exaggerated; the apartment was in total chaos. Cupboards had been ransacked, their contents tipped out, shelves of books had been toppled on to the floor, a glass vase of chrysanthemums had been flung across the room, the glass had smashed and glittering shards lay in a pool of russet and yellow petals on the wet carpet.

‘What a mess,’ Steve said, staring around. ‘Much missing?’

‘A clock, a radio. I didn’t have anything else worth taking.’

Steve stared thoughtfully at the TV which still stood where it had when he was in the apartment earlier.

‘How come they didn’t take that, I wonder?’

Lilli glanced at it, grimaced. ‘I wouldn’t bother, if I was a burglar. The damn thing works in fits and starts, but then I don’t watch much TV. I’m too busy.’

‘How did they get in?’

‘Through the door, I guess; there’s no sign of damage to the lock. Burglars carry skeleton keys, don’t they? I don’t know how else they got in.’

‘Can I see Sophie’s room?’

Lilli led the way and they stood in the doorway, staring at the same muddle of clothes heaped on the floor, books and tapes piled on top of them. Steve looked slowly, with distaste, around, and hating the idea of someone going through Sophie’s things. An intrusion like this was always disturbing, even when it was an average burglary, but he sensed that this time the motive had been personal and someone had enjoyed wrecking the place.

‘Sophie’s going to hate seeing this! What has been taken exactly, do you know?’

‘She didn’t have much either. A cheap stereo she got secondhand from a pawnbrokers down the block, a radio alarm, her family photographs, for God’s sake. Guy must have thought they were valuable frames – they were art nouveau style, but they were all reproductions, made in Prague, worth very little. And a box file of papers: articles, letters – from her family, from Vladimir, nothing valuable, as far as I know. Sophie didn’t have anything valuable.’

Steve had seen enough. He turned away. ‘Don’t touch anything. Call the police, and when they’ve been here get some professional help to clear the place up, put everything to rights.’

‘I’m not insured, and I can’t afford to pay someone. I’ll have to do it myself, and that will take time.’ Lilli gave him a sharp, searching stare. ‘Look, what’s going on here? I’m not a fool, you know. First Sophie gets pushed under a train, then our apartment’s burgled – what’s this all about, and where do you fit in?’

‘I’m not sure myself, I can only guess and I could be wrong, so I’d better not tell you what I think is happening. But I blame myself for not guessing this might happen, and not taking precautions, so I’ll foot the bill for a cleaner.’

‘A guilt trip?’ Lilli asked. ‘Can you get it on expenses?’

He grinned at that. ‘Good idea, I’ll see if they’ll wear it.’ He knew they wouldn’t, but if it made her feel easier about taking his help he didn’t mind lying. ‘I’m going to Europe day after next – but you can talk to my secretary in Washington. I’ll leave instructions with her to take care of you. She’ll be authorised to pay any bills for the work.’

‘Well, I’m not going to argue. Fine by me. But tell me – did Sophie get pushed under a train because of something you did or said?’

That hadn’t occurred to him. He thought about it, frowning. Had his intervention, when the two security guys questioned her, done some damage? Was Gowrie afraid she might sell her story to him?

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘I certainly didn’t mean to put her in any danger. On the contrary. But you could be right.’

‘I don’t know what you are talking about, but you aren’t making me any less worried about Sophie. The hospital said she could be discharged tomorrow – she can’t come back to this mess.’ Before he could answer, she took a ragged breath and harshly broke out, ‘What if whoever did this tries again – comes back to get her?’