‘Can you tell me where the police station is?’ she asked the nearest passer-by.
‘Corner of High Street and Union Place,’ she was told.
She walked it, if only to try and clear her head. In the back of her mind was the uneasy thought that one or two of her business cards might have been in her little purse. She couldn’t remember whether or not she had put any of them in it. If so, then the thief would know her name and address. She tried to reason that if he was a local and maybe a kid, he probably wouldn’t bother with an address in London.
Worthing was more upmarket than many seaside places she could mention, she thought resentfully. (A haaaandbag? came soaring into her mind.) But somehow you never expected petty theft to happen here — and what an idiotic thought that was.
All the same, you didn’t go out on a sunny afternoon expecting some bastard to dip his fingers into your pocket, did you? Regretfully, she knew that that these days such things happened anywhere.
She reported the theft without any real expectation of ever seeing the purse again, and when she detailed its contents she played down the reason she was making such a fuss, more intent on reporting that there was a thief about.
It was an inane remark if ever she heard one, she thought stupidly, especially in a busy town like Worthing. Every big town or seaside venue was fair game for pickpockets.
But the theft was duly registered in the day book, and the duty officer’s eyes flicked over her with interest as she gave him her occupation crisply, and told him where she was staying in the town.
‘Caught any criminals lately?’ he said, in what was meant to be a jokey manner, and she froze him with a glare.
Much later, he reported that one look from those green eyes could probably freeze an Eskimo, but he wouldn’t mind getting his hands around those luscious curves.
***
And then there was nothing else for Alex to do but take a general look around the town, although it had lost much of its charm for her now. Thankfully, there were no seaside stalls or kiss-me-quick hats to be seen, but neither was there anything much to do. She almost wished she’d accepted Moira’s offer to stay at the Wolstenholme house while she was here, but rejected the thought at once. For all she knew, right now Moira and her weird cronies might be holding a seance, just to find out if mother had enjoyed her day.
But after a night at the well-appointed guest house she had chosen, (all en-suite, newly refurbished, television and telephones in all rooms, lifts to all floors, early morning calls on request) she ate a far heartier breakfast than usual, telling herself that when in Rome etc etc... and then drove back to the house that now belonged solely to Moira.
‘How nice and early you are,’ Moira said delightedly. ‘Do come and join us, Alex. None of us got up very early this morning, and we were just having coffee.’
‘We?’ Alex said faintly, having expected this meeting between herself and Moira to be private.
And necessary, she thought quickly. For pity’s sake, this meeting was for the intention of discussing the stalker who had been pestering herself and her mother, not for some social occasion. That had been the purpose of contacting her.
She followed Moira into the lounge, heavy with ornate furniture and ornaments of a definitely occult variety that Alex hadn’t noticed in the mêlée of yesterday. She preferred not to study them too closely, and found herself facing half a dozen people whom she vaguely recognized from being at the funeral. From the look of them, they still wore the same weird garb as before, and Alex felt the beginnings of panic. Or maybe trapped was the more favoured word.
‘Have I come at the wrong time?’ she said quickly. ‘I can easily come back again—’
‘Not at all. We were expecting you.’
Who was? Mother et al?
But after all, there was nothing untoward in the gathering except pale and sleep-deprived faces to explain the morning after the night before. And from what Alex quickly deduced, the gallons of strong black coffee were to counteract a jolly night of exchanging memories and anecdotes about Leanora, which were presumably intended to send her happily to whatever destination awaited her in the Great Beyond.
Christ, she thought, I’m even starting to think in their terms now. And it had better stop right now!
The coffee drinking was evidently a ritual that wouldn’t be hurried, but at last the all-night visitors had departed, and Moira turned to Alex with a little contented sigh.
‘Mother would have loved their company. Well, she did, of course,’ she added quickly, after what Alex considered the first sane comment since she had known the woman. ‘And what did you think of her special day? Not quite as you expected?’
‘Not exactly,’ she murmured. ‘But tell me something. Did she always go on holiday alone? I’d have thought she would have wanted your company.’
‘Oh no. Mother always came into her own when she travelled alone. The vibes were strongest when I wasn’t there to confuse things,’ she said with a beaming smile.
Alex almost hated her. She wasn’t normal, sitting there with that bright, fatuous look on her face, as if expecting Alex to say how lovely the funeral had been, and how refreshing it was to see all those garish outfits, and not a tear in sight. It definitely wasn’t bloody normal.
She put down her final cup of coffee before the bitter, stinging taste of it burned her throat beyond help. For the first time, she wondered if it contained anything other than coffee. And if it did, it was too late now…
‘So now we’ll talk,’ Moira went on. ‘I presume you’ll want to see mother’s premises, and I suggest we go there this morning. I need to pick up a few things anyway.’
She stopped abruptly, seeing the look on Alex’s face.
‘It doesn’t alarm you, does it? I assure you, there’s nothing to be afraid of, Miss Best—’
‘It’s not that. It’s just that the major—’
‘The major?’ Moira frowned. ‘What major is that? I don’t know any major.’
A slow trickle of fear ran through Alex.
‘Major Harry Deveraux. He was here yesterday. In the church. At the burial. At the house,’ she said, feeling desperately as if she was going into Cluedo-mode. ‘He said you had given him a key to Madame Leanora’s premises.’
‘I certainly did no such thing,’ Moira said indignantly. ‘I don’t know anyone of that name.’
‘But he was a guest — or so I assumed. He was on the cruise where I first met your mother. I thought he was an old bore then, but yesterday he seemed different. Was different. He said he was an investigator with Special Branch. and he seemed to know all about me, and about your mother—’
Her voice trailed away. The major had never said anything about knowing Leanora on the cruise, except to query her name. Or had that simply been a ruse to engage Alex in conversation? Thinking back, she knew it had worked.
‘And he said I gave him a key to mother’s premises?’ Moira’s voice penetrated her thoughts.
‘Yes. We went there. He was looking for something. Whatever it was, he didn’t find it, and then he went on a train back to wherever he had come from. As far as I know.’
‘This needs thinking about,’ Moira said. ‘Do you suppose he could be our stalker? Following mother on her cruise, and then turning up here? It makes sense, doesn’t it?’
Maybe it did, but the eager and almost feverishly excited way that Moira was seizing on the obvious solution made Alex even more certain that he was not the stalker. Whoever it was, he was still out there.
But Major Harry Deveraux, if that was his name, had something to do with these two women that she didn’t yet know about. And whatever it was, she was going to make it her business to find out.
Chapter 5
Alex didn’t leave Moira’s house until late that afternoon, after being persuaded to stop for lunch. During that time she had learned virtually nothing new, except that when she showed Moira her holiday photographs, Moira emphatically denied ever having seen t
he major before.
And apparently he had cannily avoided any contact with her at yesterday’s funeral. Alex tried to put the uneasy thoughts out of her mind as she returned to the sane comfort of the Worthing guest house.
Mrs Dooley, the landlady — if that was what you called such a stiffly coiffed lady who clearly wore her best clothes night and day — ran a clinically clean establishment where no speck of dust would dare to be seen.
It was just what Alex needed after the stuffy atmosphere of Moira’s house. Large though that was, it still had the effect of closing in on you, partly because of the heavy furniture and the blank eyes in the many animal figurines and statues that seemed to be forever watching.
Before she left, Alex had been surprised to glimpse a swimming-pool in the back garden. While they had all been confined to the house in the misty rain, she hadn’t noticed it before, and she couldn’t resist an unlikely picture of those two strange old biddies doing their daily lengths in whatever weird swimming-cozzies they might choose to wear.
She jumped at the sound of her mobile phone, and the irritating musical melody jangled her nerves.
‘Alex, where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to get you all day,’ the well-remembered voice snapped.
‘Sorry, Nick,’ she muttered, not sure why she was apologizing, but at least he was somebody normal. Reasonably. ‘I’ve had my mobile switched off. Business reasons.’
‘Oh yes. So what’s happening?’
‘Nothing much. Where are you?’ she countered.
‘Where do you think? I was hoping for a night out. Now I’ll have to phone my other girl.’
She heard the teasing in his voice, and without warning her heart warmed towards him. God, she wished he was here right now. If he was, she’d have no qualms in falling into his arms and into his bed. She needed the contact of somebody warm and loving and — yes, normal. In every physical respect Nick was certainly that. And she knew the danger of feeling that way when she was jittery and vulnerable.
‘Make the most of her then,’ she whipped back. ‘Is that all you were calling me about?’
‘I thought that was enough,’ he said, aggrieved. ‘But actually, no. You’re needed at Scott Nelson’s internal inquiry on Thursday as you were the last person to see him alive. I thought I’d warn you before you got the official call.’
She tried to ignore the leap of her heart.
‘So soon? And don’t make it sound as if there was anything sinister about his death. There wasn’t — was there?’
‘Sorry, darling. I didn’t mean that at all. It was obviously suicide, but I gather his ex is intending to be there as well, so be prepared.’
‘Oh? Do you think she’ll want to paint me as the wicked other woman?’
‘You tell me. Could she?’
He either had to be joking, or trying to find out if there had been anything between herself and Scott Nelson. but for the moment Alex didn’t see it that way.
‘If he was divorced, he was a free agent, so don’t try to lay that one on me, Nick—’
‘I’m more interested in whether or not he tried to lay one on you, darling.’
‘You’ve got a bloody nerve!’
And then she relented. ‘But, for your information, no, he didn’t. I’ve already told you that, haven’t I?’
‘I just like to hear it. Especially in person.’
She had a sudden suspicion. ‘Where exactly are you?’
‘Take a look out of your window. There’s a small park across the road.’
‘I don’t believe this!’
But she walked quickly to the window and saw the park and the pond beyond, sparkling blue in the sunlight. And the bench where he was waving to her, mobile phone at his ear.
‘How did you know where I was?’ she demanded.
‘Saw the report on your stolen purse at the local nick and made a note of the address. Nelson would have been staying there too, of course, after bragging about his conquest with the luscious lady dick. You got off lightly, I’d say.’
She heard the grim note in his voice. It was Scott’s suicide that had prevented him coming here, and Nick was as bloody insensi-tive as ever, but she knew how lucky she had been to escape what could have been pretty ugly. She’d had a small taste of it already.
‘I’m coming down. Stay right there,’ she said.
She switched off her mobile before running down the two flights of stairs, ignoring the lift. She ignored the screech of a car’s tyres as well as she ran across to the small park and was clutched tightly in Nick Frobisher’s arms. But after one kiss she began pummelling his chest as the events of the past few days suddenly overcame her.
‘Why didn’t you warn me about Scott?’ she almost sobbed. ‘You should have told me—’
‘It was only ever hearsay, Alex, and nobody narks on a colleague without evidence. You know that.’
‘I know—’
‘So what’s this case you’re on? You’re not just here for your health, are you?’
He spoke so calmly, so soothingly, wanting to help. To be her best buddy... and wanting to cash in on whatever scam she’d got wind of. And she knew him too well.
‘My business, Nick. And my client’s. You know that. So why are you in Worthing?’ she asked pointedly. ‘You didn’t drive all this way just to let me know about the inquiry.’
‘Couple of days off,’ he said casually. ‘I like the seaside —reminds me of my youth—’
‘Come off it. You never take days off without a good reason. Are you following me?’
‘Is there any reason why I should be?’
She felt like screaming. He was playing with her, and they were getting nowhere. Then he handed her something that looked very familiar.
‘My purse,’ she exclaimed. ‘Where did you get it?’
Good God, it wasn’t him brushing into her in a crowded street and scaring the living daylights out of her, was it? If it was, she’d kill him…
‘Some do-gooder handed it in at the local nick soon after you left it. Empty, of course. Careless of you, Alex.’
She resented the sneer. ‘There was nothing in it of any value,’ she told him, ignoring the thought of a stray address card or two. ‘Just small change. It was only the thought of some petty thief being on the loose that made me report it. I wish I hadn’t now, then you couldn’t have tracked me down,’ she added truculently.
He laughed easily, his arm sliding around her waist. His Latino good looks were streets ahead of anything that wimp Nelson had had to offer, and she quickly squashed the thought.
‘Too late, babe. I’ve booked in at the same hostelry as yourself, so let’s go and persuade the dragon lady to give us some tea, and then we’ll talk.’
She fumed as Nick steered her through the busy late afternoon traffic. But she was on her toes now. The fact that he’d called in at the local nick told her he probably wasn’t just here for his health. He was after something, and as yet she didn’t know what it was. But she wanted something too, and he was her means of getting it. She needed to find out just what major whoever-he-was, was playing at.
She smiled at Nick more sweetly, ignoring the answering flicker in his eyes, and in ten minutes time they had the front lounge of the guest house to themselves, and were being served with afternoon tea and cakes by the gushing landlady.
And Alex had to admit that if he could melt that iceberg, he could charm anybody.
‘So come clean, Nick.’
‘Ladies first,’ he said smoothly.
‘Bollocks. There’s supposed to be no difference between the sexes in our job, so I’m not saying a word until you do.’
He gave a sigh. ‘Sometimes, Alex, you should stop seeing things that aren’t there. If you want the God-honest truth, I was worried about you.’
Alex stared at him, all other thoughts flying out of her head at the concern in his eyes.
‘Why?’ she asked bluntly.
‘Why do you think?’ he said
roughly. ‘You’ve had two bloody awful experiences lately. I don’t know how far Nelson had got with you, and I’m not asking — but coming on top of that there was his suicide, and for all I knew you might have snapped. You’re not infallible, darling. It happens to the best of us.’
‘Oh.’ She didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t what she had expected at all.
‘So why did you really come here if it wasn’t for a bit of nookie with Nelson?’ he went on casually.
‘Cut that out!’ she said, glaring at him. ‘I came to attend somebody’s funeral, if you must know. Someone I met on the cruise. And yes, I have been feeling the strain lately. This woman was the oddest person. The clairvoyant woman I told you about. She could unnerve anybody. She told me she saw a death, but it wasn’t mine — or hers. You’d think she’d have seen that, wouldn’t you? Then I heard from an old friend I hadn’t seen in years, and shortly afterwards she died. Then Scott Nelson committed suicide, and Leanora herself was murdered. A lot of coincidences, wouldn’t you say?’
‘It certainly seems like two deaths too many to me,’ Nick agreed as she babbled on. ‘But why attend her funeral? Knowing you I can’t imagine you kept in contact with a weirdo.’
‘It seemed like the decent thing to do.’
‘Really?’ He oozed scepticism now. ‘And just how did you come to hear about it?’
‘Her daughter contacted me. And stop giving me the third degree, Nick. I don’t like it.’
She took a great gulp of tea, and winced as it burned her throat. But it gave her a moment to gather her wits. As she put her cup down, she gazed out of the lounge window, and spoke more thoughtfully.
‘I think the daughter felt she wanted to talk to anyone who had recently met her mother on the cruise. People are like that. It gives them a kind of comfort—’
‘Pull the other one, Alex. I know about the murder, so what did the daughter really want?’ he said coolly.
She met his eyes then, copper-cold and steady, above the rim of his own cup. Thinnest bone china, Alex registered. The cup, not the man. There was nothing thin-skinned about Nick. She brought her wayward thoughts back to his question. ‘I don’t have to tell you that,’ she said at last.
Illusions (Alexandra Best Investigations Book 2) Page 8