As she stood there, Janet thought back through her arrival the previous evening. Surely the hotel had security cameras, she thought.
“Do you have security cameras?” she asked during a gap in the conversation. She spoke in English, not wanting them to know that she could understand everything that was being said.
“We do, but they don’t record. They simply show our security team what is happening in various places around the building,” she was told.
“I signed the guest book,” Janet remembered. “I signed my name, and then my husband reminded me to add his surname to my signature.”
“Do you have this guest book?” the inspector asked.
The man nodded. “It’s here,” he said, pushing the book that was on the desk in front of him towards the inspector. “Ms. Markham signed just here,” he added, opening the book and pointing to the page.
Janet leaned forward and then gasped. Her neat signature was still there, exactly as she’d written it, but only the “Janet Markham” portion appeared. Underneath her signature was another name. Someone named “Jacob Hirsh” had apparently arrived next after Janet. Edward’s name was missing.
“Ms. Markham, I’m not quite sure how best to help you,” the inspector said. “You’ve told me that your husband travelled with you and that he disappeared overnight. This gentlemen has told me that you arrived alone. The evidence that I’ve seen thus far suggests that he is the one who is being truthful.”
Janet opened her mouth to argue and then slowly shook her head. “It’s all smoke and mirrors,” she said softly. “I should have expected as much, really. I’m sorry that I bothered you,” she told the inspector. “I think I need to go and have a rest.”
“Take my mobile number,” the inspector said. “Ring me if your husband returns.”
“Thank you,” Janet replied, quickly putting the number into her phone.
“I will be here tomorrow at ten to speak with you again,” he told her. “It is important that you be here as well.”
She nodded. “Thank you for all of your help,” she told him before she headed for the lifts. As she stepped into the car, she heard the inspector speaking in French again to the man behind the desk.
“I don’t know if she’s confused or criminal,” he said.
“Neither,” Janet said in a whisper. “I was just naïve to think that Edward was truly retired.”
She let herself into her room and locked the door behind herself. Sighing, she pulled out her mobile phone.
“I’m not crazy,” she said when Joan answered.
“I didn’t say you were,” Joan replied. “But that’s a worrying statement, considering you’ve only been married for a day.”
“Edward has disappeared,” Janet told her.
Joan made a noise and then sighed. “I feel as if I should be surprised, but I’m not.”
“I was. I still am, actually. I never imagined that he’d allow work to interrupt our honeymoon, even if I didn’t actually believe that he’d fully retired.”
“Are you quite certain it’s work?”
“What else could it be?” Janet asked. “And before you say anything, yes, I’ve imagined a great many other things it could be and they’re all horrible. For now, I’m going to believe that he’s been sent on some sort of essential mission and that he’ll be back here in a day or two to explain everything.”
“Are you going to come home or stay there?”
“For now, I’m going to stay here,” Janet said, making the decision as she spoke. “Whatever has happened, I know Edward will do everything he can to let me know something, anything, as soon as he can.”
“You aren’t just going to sit around the hotel room, are you?”
Janet sighed. “Edward had all sorts of tours and excursions planned for us, but I don’t have the itinerary. I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“You should go out and see the sights,” Joan told her. “You’ve been to Paris before and you saw most of the sights on your own the last time you were there, as well.”
Janet chuckled. “That was less than ideal, though,” she replied, remembering that after their two-year teaching assignment had ended, she and Joan had decided to spend a week in Paris. On their second day in the beautiful city, Joan had fallen and broken her leg. She’d spent the rest of the week in hospital while Janet had divided her time between visiting her sister and enjoying Paris.
“It was still better for you than for me,” Joan reminded her.
“But you got to enjoy Paris with Michael recently,” Janet said.
“I did, and it was wonderful. In a way, I was almost glad I hadn’t done any of it before. Seeing it all for the first time with Michael was very special.”
“And now I shall be seeing it all for the second time, alone again,” Janet sighed.
“Promise me that you’ll go out and enjoy the city,” Joan said. “Don’t sit in the room worrying about Edward.”
“I’m going to worry about him anyway.”
“But at least you can worry about him from the top of the Eiffel Tower.”
“I know you’re right, but at the moment, going out and seeing the sights doesn’t hold much appeal. I may just curl up with a book for the rest of today. I brought several to read on the plane, but Edward and I were too busy talking about the wedding on the journey. I could probably use a day to recover from all of the wedding excitement anyway.”
“I don’t want to worry you, but do you think you should talk to the police?”
Janet laughed. “I tried that,” she said. “The policeman seemed to think that I’d married Edward for his money and that I’d had a hand in his disappearance. That was before we got back here and the hotel manager told the inspector that I’d arrived alone.”
“Say that again slowly.”
“Weirdly, that made me feel better,” Janet told her. “Especially when I saw that the guest book had been altered. I’d signed my name and then added ‘Bennett’ when Edward suggested it, and then he’d signed after me. Today, the ‘Bennett’ is gone and so is Edward’s name.”
“And that made you feel better?”
“Someone is going to great lengths to hide the fact that Edward and I arrived together. His agency has to have had a hand in that,” she explained. “I’m expecting someone from the agency to get in touch before the end of the day to let me know what’s happened, actually.”
“I’m not certain…”
Joan’s words were interrupted by a loud knock on the door.
“Ah, that might be someone now,” Janet said, walking to the door. When she tried to look through the peephole, she could see nothing. Still holding her phone, she opened the door and stared out at the two men in black suits standing there.
Chapter 3
“You need to end the conversation,” one of the men said flatly. He was as tall as he was broad and his face was completely devoid of expression. His brown hair was cut short and his brown eyes seemed to stare right through her. Janet guessed that he was around forty-five.
“I’m going to have to ring you back,” Janet said to Joan.
“Are you all right? What’s happening there?” Joan demanded.
Janet looked past the first man and felt a rush of relief. The second man on her doorstep was much younger, probably not much more than twenty-five. He had dark hair and eyes, and Janet immediately recognised him as the only one of Edward’s work colleagues who had smiled at her at the wedding.
“It’s fine,” she told Joan. “I’ll ring you back later.”
“If I don’t hear from you in thirty minutes, I will ring the police,” Joan said loudly. “Tell that to whoever is at your door.”
“I think they heard you,” Janet replied. The man at the back seemed to be trying not to laugh, but the other man’s face hadn’t changed at all. Janet pushed the button to end the call and then looked at the older man. “Yes?”
“I’m Mr. Jones,” he said.
“Nice to meet
you,” Janet replied. “And you are?” she asked the younger man.
“Irrelevant,” Mr. Jones snapped.
Janet raised an eyebrow. She looked at the man, and he winked at her. Hiding a smile, she looked back at Mr. Jones.
“This is all highly irregular,” Mr. Jones said.
“Is it?” Janet asked.
“I have a letter for you,” he replied. “It provides as much explanation as you need.”
“I doubt that,” Janet said.
Again the younger man looked as if he wanted to laugh.
Mr. Jones reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. As he held it out to her, he spoke again. “Of course, you must not tell anyone about any of this,” he said.
“I went to the police earlier,” Janet replied as she took the letter.
For just a moment, she saw something flash across the man’s face. The carefully controlled blank expression was back before she could blink.
“To whom did you speak?” he asked.
“An Inspector Caron,” Janet replied. “He seems to think that I’m either confused or that I’ve done away with my husband.”
Mr. Jones nodded. “We’ll take care of Inspector Caron. Don’t speak to him again.”
“He said he was going to be here tomorrow at ten to interview me again,” Janet protested.
“That appointment is cancelled,” she was told.
“Okay, well, then, thanks for the letter.” She took a step backwards and started to shut the door.
“Mrs. Bennett, I have reason to believe that you can be quite inquisitive by nature. I strongly suggest that you resist any urge you may have to interfere in matters you can’t possibly understand,” Mr. Jones said.
“Thanks for the advice,” Janet replied. “Was there anything else?”
The man frowned. “I don’t feel as if you’re taking me seriously,” he said.
“It’s been a very long day,” Janet replied. “I need to read the letter and then work out what I’m going to do next. Thank you for bringing it to me.”
The frown was replaced by another blank stare. “You’re welcome,” Mr. Jones said. He spun on his heel and began to walk briskly down the corridor towards the lifts. The man with him gave Janet a small smile and then followed Mr. Jones.
Janet shut the door and then leaned against it. “What is going on?” she muttered as she stared at the envelope in her hand. Her name had been neatly printed on the front and she recognised it as Edward’s handwriting immediately.
Crossing to the desk, she dropped into the chair. Her phone was still in her hand, so she rang Joan back almost without thinking.
“Who was at the door?” Joan demanded. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Janet replied. “There were two men at the door. Men in dark suits, just like the ones at the wedding yesterday.”
“You think they were Edward’s associates?”
“I know they were. I recognised one of them.”
“Really? I thought they all looked exactly the same.”
“One of them is quite a bit younger and still seems to have a bit of personality.”
Joan chuckled. “If you say so. What did they want?”
“They brought me a letter from Edward.”
“What does it say?”
“I haven’t opened it yet.”
“Why on earth not?”
Janet sighed. “I think I’m afraid of what I’m going to find,” she admitted in a low voice.
“Whatever it says, you need to know,” Joan told her.
Janet took a deep breath. “Of course you’re right. I’m just being silly.” She lifted the flap. “It wasn’t sealed,” she muttered.
“Whoever delivered it probably read it,” Joan replied.
“Probably,” Janet sighed. She pulled out the single sheet of paper and took another deep breath. “It’s been typed, aside from the signature. ‘Dearest Janet, I can’t begin to apologise enough. I truly have retired, but in this instance the agency is rather desperate and a man’s life is at stake. I would never forgive myself if I allowed someone to die, not if I could have prevented it, not even when it means interrupting our honeymoon. If things go to plan, I should be back in Paris in a few days. Please stay and enjoy yourself as much as you can until I return. I’ve included our full itinerary so that you can enjoy everything that I had planned for us. I will be back with you as soon as humanly possible. Always remember that I love you more than anything. Edward,’” she read. “That’s all, except for the itinerary he mentioned.”
Joan was silent for several moments. “I don’t know what to say,” she said eventually.
“I don’t know what to think,” Janet sighed. “He says he loves me, but he disappeared on the first day of our honeymoon. Then again, he does say that someone’s life is at stake. I’d feel terrible if I found out that someone had died because Edward was with me.”
“He’s meant to be retired.”
“Yes, I know,” Janet sighed. “I’m starting to wonder if he’s ever truly going to retire, though.”
“You should have had his colleagues wait while you read the letter,” Joan suggested. “You could have demanded more information.”
“There’s no way Mr. Jones would have told me anything.”
“His name is Mr. Jones?”
“That’s what he told me. It may not be his real name, though. Do agents get special, extra-dull names when they become agents?”
“That’s something you’ll have to ask Edward.”
“If I ever see him again,” Janet said darkly.
“He said he’d be back soon.”
“Yes, I know,” Janet sighed. “I just don’t know what to believe. Maybe I’ll just come home.”
“But then you’ll miss your honeymoon.”
Janet looked down the list of activities that Edward had booked. “There are a lot of things on here that I want to do,” she admitted. “But I’m not sure how much fun they’ll be if I’m alone.”
“Part of me wants to encourage you to stay and part of me wants to tell you to come home,” Joan said. “I don’t know what’s best.”
“Neither do I. I’m going to have to think for a while.”
Another knock on the door made Janet jump. “There’s someone at the door,” she hissed.
“Again? Who is it now?”
“How should I know?” She crossed to the door and looked out through the peephole. The younger of Edward’s colleagues was standing outside the door.
“It’s one of the men back again,” she told Joan. “Hold on.” She pulled open the door. “Yes?”
“Hi, it’s me. Mr. Irrelevant,” he said with a grin. “If Mr. Jones asks, I was never here.” He handed her another envelope and then turned and dashed back down the corridor towards the door marked “Emergency Stairs.” Janet was still staring in surprise as he disappeared through the door.
“What’s happening?” Joan asked.
“He brought me another letter,” Janet told her as she pushed the door shut and locked it. “This one is sealed.”
“From Edward again?”
Janet looked at her name on the envelope. “Yes,” she said, sitting back down and tearing open the envelope that had a small, hard lump inside it.
“What does it say?” Joan demanded.
“I’m still opening it,” Janet replied, pulling out the sheet of paper. “This one is handwritten. ‘Dearest Janet, I truly can’t tell you anything, but I wanted you to have something more than the printed message that was deemed suitable by my handler. Please try to enjoy what you can of our holiday. I promise to make this up to you in a million ways just as soon my mission is complete. If you follow our itinerary, I’ll be able to find you the moment I become free. Remember that I love you, Mrs. Bennett. Your loving husband, Edward.’”
“He could have told you more,” Joan said.
“That would have been nice,” Janet agreed, running her fingers over the small marble heart that had b
een tucked inside the note. “I still don’t know what to do,” she sighed as she slipped the heart into her pocket.
“Perhaps you should do as he asked and follow the itinerary,” Joan suggested. “Unless you’re cross with him. If you’re cross with him, you should come home.”
“I don’t think I’m cross, exactly,” Janet said slowly. “I’m sad and disappointed, but that’s more with the situation than with Edward. I’m certain this isn’t what he wants, either.”
“Should I get your room ready? Are you coming back to Doveby House?”
“Not today, anyway,” Janet said. “I’m going to give Edward some time, at least a few days. I’ll ring you if I change my plans. Otherwise, I’m going to do what I can to enjoy everything that Edward has planned.”
“What are you doing tonight?”
Janet looked at the itinerary in the first letter. “An evening tour of the Louvre, with dinner,” she replied. “That’s the first thing on the list, actually. I imagine he was worried that we’d both be tired this morning after our late arrival.”
“How will you pay for things?” Joan, always practical, asked.
“Edward added me to one of his credit cards last month,” Janet told her. “He gave me the card a few days ago. I can use that.”
Joan sighed. “I’m very sorry, darling. I was really hoping that you’d have the same sort of wonderful honeymoon that Michael and I had.”
“It’s my fault for falling in love with a spy,” Janet sighed.
“Ring me again in a few days,” Joan told her.
“Don’t worry if I don’t. I may be having such a wonderful time that I’ll forget. I’ll ring you at the end of the fortnight, before we’re supposed to be moving on to Italy, if not before,” Janet promised.
They chatted for a short while longer, but without saying much of anything. When Janet finally put her phone away, she still wasn’t certain whether staying or going home was the better choice. She’d told Joan she was going to stay, though, so now she was determined to make the best of it.
The Armstrong Assignment (A Janet Markham Bennett Cozy Thriller Book 1) Page 3