When Night Closes in

by Iris Gower

  ‘Well, now he can tell us instead.’ Lainey’s voice was cool.

  ‘I don’t think he’ll do that.’

  ‘He’d better, it’s an offence to withhold information.’

  ‘He’ll tell you he doesn’t know anything.’ Lowri was suddenly angry. ‘Can’t you policemen use a little psychology once in a while?’

  ‘No time.’ Lainey walked away from her. ‘We’re too busy trying to protect the public from villains.’

  ‘Wait!’ Lowri followed him and pointed to the door, swinging brokenly on its hinges. ‘What am I supposed to do about that?’

  ‘I’ll send someone round to fix it in the morning.’

  ‘And in the meantime, any Tom, Dick or Harry is free to walk into my home?’

  Lainey looked at her steadily. ‘Seems they already do. Sergeant, you’re a handyman, can you do a temporary repair?’

  Brown did as he was told but he was not happy about it. Lowri was glad when the door was safely battened up and she was on her own again. She had not realized how very tired she was until she slid under the duvet. She curled herself into a ball, shivering a little as she realized the danger she could have been in.

  She went over the events of the past hours time and time again, trying to sort out some clue from what the intruder had said. At last she abandoned all attempts to think and drifted into a fitful sleep.

  Sally stared at Timmy. ‘Can’t you go home to sleep?’ she said.

  ‘What do you think I am, a bloody rent boy!’ Timmy was outraged. ‘I take your bloody friend out for the evening, then I bring you home and give you a good seeing-to and now you want to get rid of me. Why can’t I sleep here?’

  ‘Oh, all right,’ Sally said. ‘Get in.’ She punched her pillow before Timmy had settled himself against her, then flicked off the light.

  ‘So what gives then, why was Lowri talking to that cop at the bar?’ he asked.

  ‘What the hell are you talking about now!’

  ‘Your friend. What’s up with her, the police are after her for something, aren’t they?’

  ‘So what? They don’t know anything. The police are not half as smart as Jon Brandon.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t ever meet Jon Brandon,’ Timmy said accusingly. ‘That’s what you told the police, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, you lemon, it was. I didn’t want to get involved in anything that might be hooky, did I?’ Timmy was beginning to bore her.

  Sally sat up. ‘Oh sod it!’ She fumbled for the light-switch and clicked it on. ‘Hand me a ciggie, I can’t get to sleep with all your nattering.’

  Timmy did as he was told – he was good at that. God help him when he went out into the big bad world to earn a living. She leaned against the pillow and stared up at the smoke from her cigarette as it rose towards the already yellowed ceiling.

  She turned her attention to her hands, studying her nails with pleasure. They had grown very long now, just the way she liked them. Timmy’s back gave testimony to that. He seemed to enjoy a bit of pain but then these posh types often were kinky.

  ‘What I don’t understand is why you seem to dislike poor old Lowri.’ Sally flicked ash from her cigarette onto the floor.

  ‘She’s a fool, isn’t she? She’s carrying the can for what her boyfriend has done. I chatted with that Sergeant Brown the other night, he was quite informative.’

  ‘Come on then.’ Sally was impatient. ‘Tell me?’

  Timmy smiled. ‘I’ve got you interested now, haven’t I?’ He sat up and took her cigarette from her, puffing ineptly at it. She liked him when he was like this, playful and yet mysterious. Perhaps that was what she had fancied him for in the beginning, his air of knowing more than she did, than anybody did.

  ‘Perhaps I was going to tell you, then again, perhaps I changed my mind.’ He looked dark and dangerous suddenly and Sally felt herself grow warm.

  ‘It seems the police think the Brandons and your precious Lowri are in it together.’

  Sally edged closer to him. ‘Well? In what, then?’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll tell you.’ He laughed and Sally pouted up at him.

  ‘You are deliberately teasing me,’ she said. She took the cigarette from him and held the glowing tip close to his nipple. ‘Tell me, or else.’

  Timmy’s eyes grew dark. ‘Put that damned thing out!’ He guided her hand beneath the sheets. ‘Do you like that?’

  ‘I like it.’

  ‘Do something with it then.’

  ‘After you tell me.’

  ‘No, before.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘We’ll see.’ Timmy rolled on top of her, breathing heavily, ‘But I’ll tell you this much, there’s a great deal of money lying in some foreign bank accounts and it looks as if it’s all belonging to your dear friend Lowri Richards, isn’t that fun.’

  Timmy stopped talking and went into action but Sally hardly noticed; thoughts were whirling around in her head. As Timmy climaxed, too soon, she wrapped her arms around him. He had his uses, even if it wasn’t in bed.

  As sleep began to overtake her, she wondered briefly about Jon Brandon – now he was a real man and a good lover. In addition, he was well set up, a good-looking guy. He sure knew how to please a girl. What a pity he had not chosen her instead of Lowri, otherwise she might be a very rich woman right now.

  Lowri woke to the sunshine and the sound of hammering. It seemed a workman had come to fix the door properly. Brown’s repair must have been pretty ropey.

  She pulled on her housecoat and a pair of socks, her feet were freezing.

  In the hallway, she saw Lainey chatting to the workman. They both looked her way and she saw Lainey frown at her state of undress.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said abruptly, ‘I wasn’t expecting visitors.’

  She showered and dressed hurriedly. Downstairs, she picked up her coat and her car keys.

  ‘No breakfast?’ Lainey asked.

  ‘I don’t eat breakfast.’

  ‘What about locking up after us?’

  ‘You do it.’ She handed him a spare key. ‘I trust you, you’re a policeman.’ She left the house and climbed into the car, gunning the engine into life. She was angry with Lainey, really angry. He took liberties, he treated her like a criminal one minute and a friend the next. She hated men. She had put up with enough from men to last her a lifetime.

  Once out on the main road, she put her foot down. Work would be a relief, toiling over searches and making phone calls to the Land Registry was a doddle compared to being a police suspect in the hands of a clever man like DI Lainey.

  Suddenly, in spite of herself, she was smiling.

  11

  Lowri arrived at the office at the same time as Mr Watson. ‘Morning, Lowri, you’re looking beautiful this morning,’ he said, pausing in the small hallway. He removed his hat and his white hair stood up like a halo around his plump face. ‘You should leave that car at home and get a brisk walk into work now and again. A young thing like you needs exercise.’

  He leaned towards her. ‘Any more hassle from that DI Lainey?’

  Lowri shook her head. ‘No, thank goodness,’ she lied.

  ‘Well, make sure he keeps his distance.’ He walked towards the reception area. ‘By the way, we’ve got a new receptionist, a Mrs Jenkins.’ He smiled. ‘And don’t say about time too because getting the right person can be the devil of a job. I told her to start a little later than the rest of us. Let her ease her way into the office routine in her own time.’ He paused. ‘Take it easy now, do you hear?’

  Without waiting for a reply, he disappeared into his room. Lowri had been on the point of telling him about the man who’d broken into her house last night, but, on second thoughts, perhaps that was something she should keep to herself. Involving a solicitor, even one as kindly as Mr Watson, sometimes resulted in a worsening of the situation.

  She went into the office and shivered. ‘Good heavens, who’s opened the window?’

  ‘That’s do
wn to the new receptionist,’ Sally said. ‘She was in here first thing this morning complaining about the smell of cigarette smoke. Then she went out again for some unknown reason.’

  ‘Oh? Where did she go?’

  Sally shrugged. ‘I don’t know and I don’t care, she seems a bit of a dragon. Can’t see her enjoying a knees-up. She looks more like a policewoman than a receptionist.’

  ‘Well, give her a chance,’ Lowri said. ‘She’ll probably settle down. I’m surprised we didn’t get a new receptionist before now. We certainly need one.’

  ‘I saw one girl coming for an interview,’ Sally said. ‘Probably the pay wasn’t enough for her. In any case, she looked a bit on the flighty side. Still, anyone would be better than the one we’ve got stuck with now.’

  Lowri closed the window and felt the radiators; the heating had not yet been switched on even though the September weather had taken a decidedly chilly turn.

  ‘You OK?’ Sally asked. ‘You look a bit down.’

  ‘I’m all right really. Just cold, that’s all.’ The nightmare had come again after the intruder had been removed, driving away any chance of restful sleep. She huddled in her chair, wrapping her jacket around her, and stared miserably at the pile of mail on her desk.

  ‘I’d better do some work, I suppose.’ She began to open the letters, most of which contained the usual paperwork concerning the buying and selling of property. One, however, was addressed to Mr Watson personally, and Lowri studied the postmark with interest.

  ‘Anything wrong?’ Sally asked. Lowri shook her head.

  ‘Not really but this letter should have been put in Mr Watson’s room, it’s marked private and confidential.’ She got up from her chair. ‘I’ll take it to him now.’

  She had noticed the postmark was Summer’s Dean. A coincidence, or was it?

  The new receptionist was now sitting at her desk. She frowned as Lowri crossed the room to Mr Watson’s office.

  ‘Can I help you?’ Her tone was curt and Lowri shook her head.

  ‘I don’t think so. I’ve been working here for some time now, I think I can manage.’

  ‘Please yourself.’ Mrs Jenkins was a woman in her forties. She had cropped hair and wore thick black tights and flat shoes. Sally had hit the nail on the head when she said Mrs Jenkins looked more like a policewoman than a receptionist.

  Was it possible Lainey had put a constable in to watch her? Lowri pressed her lips together in annoyance. If that was the case Lainey could just keep his nose out of her business.

  She knocked on the door to Mr Watson’s office; there was no reply. The superior voice of the receptionist stopped her as she lifted her hand to knock again.

  ‘Mr Watson has gone to the cloakroom, if you’d asked I would have told you.’

  Lowri opened the office door and put the letter on the desk and then with a grim look approached Mrs Jenkins.

  ‘Look here, did you get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning or is this personal?’ she said flatly. ‘In any case, you seem quite unsuited for the job, so why are you working here?’

  The woman looked up at her. ‘That’s a stupid question. I could ask you why you are working here.’ She had a strange way of hardly moving her lips when she spoke. ‘I presume it’s because you like the work and, more importantly, because you need the money.’

  ‘Are you sure no-one has put you up to this?’ Lowri said. ‘You’ve hardly got a good bedside manner as it were.’

  Mrs Jenkins half smiled. ‘Neither am I a raving beauty?’

  Lowri was nonplussed. ‘Well no, I didn’t mean that exactly.’

  ‘I am expert at my job, Miss Richards. That is why I’m here.’ The woman returned to her work, clicking the mouse, moving speedily from one command to the next on the computer.

  ‘I’ve always envied those who can make a difficult job appear easy,’ Lowri said quietly. She reckoned she might as well make a friend as an enemy, whatever Mrs Jenkins was up to.

  ‘Thank you.’ Mrs Jenkins seemed to have decided to take Lowri’s words at face value. ‘It comes in handy to be computer literate these days.’

  ‘Well, I only work in the conveyancing side of things,’ Lowri said, ‘but I seem to be getting better the more I use a computer.’

  She watched as Mrs Jenkins brought onto the screen a list of clients’ names and addresses and account numbers. The receptionist glanced up for a moment. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have to get on.’

  Lowri returned to her own office, making a rueful face at Sally. ‘You were right, she’s a dragon lady. Do you think she’s for real?’

  Sally looked up at her. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Well, don’t you think Mrs Jenkins seems an unlikely person for the job?’

  ‘Not really,’ Sally said. ‘Receptionists aren’t all glamorous. And young kids would be too frightened of some of the roughnecks we get wanting legal aid.’

  ‘That’s a bit sweeping, isn’t it?’ Lowri pulled a file towards her. ‘I mean not everyone who needs legal aid is a villain. Look at it this way, would you or I have the money to take a big firm to court, for instance?’

  ‘Well, no,’ Sally said. ‘But there’s no need to get het up about it.’ She gave Lowri a long look. ‘What’s got into you?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Lowri said. ‘But just one thing, why would a receptionist want to look up clients’ accounts on the computer?’

  ‘I expect Mr Watson or one of the other solicitors asked her to,’ Sally volunteered. ‘I wouldn’t waste time worrying about it if I were you.’

  ‘Ah but then you are not under suspicion, are you? You are not a target for the police to shoot at any time they choose.’

  ‘Time for a coffee, I think,’ Sally said. ‘You’re getting snappy and just a wee bit paranoid.’

  Lowri sighed. She probably was getting paranoid, suspicious of the most trivial event. ‘A cup of coffee sounds just the job.’

  As the morning wore on, Lowri found herself unable to concentrate on her work. She looked over at Sally, who seemed to have nothing better to do than repair her chipped nail polish.

  ‘What about an early lunch?’ Lowri said.

  Sally agreed at once. ‘That’s just what I was thinking. I didn’t have any breakfast so I’m starving.’

  ‘What do you think?’ Lowri asked. ‘Shall we go to the deli and grab a sandwich?’

  ‘Let’s have a change.’ Sally was enthusiastic. ‘Let’s try the Queens, they serve smashing grub and I’ve heard that the screws from the prison eat in there. We might see a bit of prime talent.’

  Lowri smiled. ‘Don’t you ever think of anything else, Sal?’

  ‘No, not really. Oh come on, Lowri, let’s have something decent to eat for a change. You don’t get a medal for wearing yourself to a frazzle in the office, remember.’ She grimaced. ‘Anyway, we can leave the dragon lady to look after things, can’t we?’

  In the Queens, the hubbub of voices rose and fell like some arcane chant. In the background Lowri heard the gentle hum of taped music, music that she and Jon had played together many times. Her vision suddenly blurred. She turned away, rubbing her eyes, not wanting Sally to see she was upset.

  She tried to examine her feelings: she was disillusioned with Jon, wasn’t she? Well, why let the sudden burst of nostalgia upset her? Lowri told herself to relax as she waited for Sally to study the board above the bar.

  The pub was warm and smelled of smoke and food. Lowri looked around; the lounge bar was pretty crowded and as Sally had predicted there were several men in uniform, standing at the bar and sitting at tables eating lunch.

  Lowri smiled. At least Sally would be happy; she blossomed in male company. It was a wonder she chose to work in a small office where she was unlikely to meet any fanciable men.

  The sight of people laughing and joking together, smoking and enjoying a drink, made Lowri suddenly feel lonely. She wondered how long it was since she had felt carefree, had laughed and had fun. Certa
inly not since that night at the Swan when Jon had walked out on her. Why had he done it, why leave her to face the music? Whatever the music was . . .

  ‘They’ve got steak and ale pie or fish and salad,’ Sally reported back. ‘Or you could just have a salad roll if you’re thinking of your waistline.’ She looked at Lowri. ‘Not that you have to worry about that.’ She stood with her hands resting on the table. Today her nails were bright blue.

  ‘Oh and in case you’re interested, your detective is by the bar with a gorgeous-looking policewoman. I’ve made a point of letting him know we’re here.’

  Lowri’s heart did a flip. She swallowed hard. ‘I think I’ll just have a roll, I’m not very hungry,’ she said.

  ‘Suit yourself, I’m having the steak and ale pie.’ Sally went to order the food and when she returned to the table Lainey was with her. Lowri was suddenly tense – she knew her colour had risen.

  ‘Mind if I sit down for a minute?’ he asked and without waiting for a reply he sat beside her. ‘Mr Watson and your father were friends, I understand?’ he said evenly. Lowri looked at him and frowned.

  ‘Not to my knowledge,’ she said. ‘I don’t think Charles has any friends.’

  ‘Didn’t your father speak to Mr Watson about you, isn’t that how you got the job in the solicitors’ office?’

  ‘I got the job on merit,’ Lowri said edgily. ‘And if you want to know anything about Charles you’d better ask him. I haven’t communicated with my father properly in years.’ She leaned forward, elbows on the table. ‘He more or less disowned me when I opted out of college.’

  A waitress brought the food and Sally immediately picked up her knife and fork and cut into the pie. Rich gravy spilled over the edges of the dish and suddenly Lowri felt sick.

  ‘Do you think you could let us have our lunch in peace?’ she said. ‘I understand you are with someone. Isn’t it rude and somewhat short-sighted to leave a beautiful colleague alone in a place like this?’

  Lainey smiled. ‘Maybe.’ He rose and nodded politely. ‘I’ll be seeing you again soon.’

  Lowri could have kicked herself. All she had done was to sound like a jealous wife. Lainey must think her a real fool.