Person or Persons Unknown

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Person or Persons Unknown Page 5

by Anthea Fraser


  Class evenings necessitated an early meal.

  He clattered down the stairs ahead of her. Gus, seeing their set faces, waved his tail uncertainly and trotted after them into the kitchen.

  ‘Going back outside?’ Max asked him, and the dog hastily sat down and looked up at him, tongue lolling. ‘Apparently not.’ He closed the back door. ‘There’s a bottle of wine in the fridge,’ he added. ‘Help yourself, and pour one for me. Are you staying for supper?’

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ Rona replied. ‘I’ve just had the most enormous piece of cake.’

  ‘Then you’ll have to sit and watch me, and while I eat, you can recount your problem. Though I might as well tell you, if murder really is involved, I wash my hands of it. You’ve put the fear of God into me twice already this year.’

  She watched as he took a dish of lasagne out of the oven, crisply brown on top, sauce bubbling round the edges. He spooned a generous portion on to a plate, set it on a tray together with knife, fork and his wine glass and, motioning to her to follow, went through to the living room and placed the tray on the small table at one end. Beyond it, the little walled garden lay bathed in mellow sunshine. Gus settled himself in his usual position under the table.

  ‘Right,’ Max said, ‘you’d better fill me in.’

  Slowly, sorting it out in her mind as she went, she did so.

  ‘So, you have a mother who got herself murdered,’ he summarized, ‘and a father who scarpered. Connected, obviously.’

  ‘It seems not. He emigrated before he even knew she was pregnant.’

  ‘If they know that much about him, they must know his name,’ Max argued.

  ‘You’d think so, but Zara swears not.’

  ‘What about her grandparents? Surely they must have known him?’

  Rona sipped her wine thoughtfully. ‘I didn’t think to ask, but Gemma wasn’t living at home. She was sharing a flat with another girl – the one who found her.’

  Max shook his head despairingly. ‘God, love, you attract them like a magnet, don’t you? The Harvey business was bad enough, but once it was cleared up, I thought that was that. I never dreamed it was the start of your becoming a pseudo-detective. I tell you, my nerves won’t stand it. How many more times are you going to put yourself in danger?’

  ‘It needn’t be dangerous,’ Rona protested unconvincingly. ‘People are searching for their birth parents every day.’

  ‘Well, she’s already found her mother, hasn’t she? Or rather, she knows who she was. The fact that she’s dead should be the end of it. As to her father, are you proposing to fly to Australia and search the outback for him?’

  ‘Don’t be facetious, Max,’ Rona said crisply. ‘I came to you for advice.’

  ‘Well, that’s easy enough: don’t touch it with a bargepole.’ He eyed her over a laden forkful of lasagne. ‘Not that I flatter myself you’ll take it. You’re using me as a sounding board, aren’t you?’

  She smiled wryly. ‘I hoped you wouldn’t notice!’

  ‘What’s your gut feeling about it?’

  ‘I don’t know. It smacks of banging my head against a brick wall, but I admit I’m intrigued. If Barnie’s agreeable and I do take it, I’ll set myself a time limit. If I don’t get anywhere in, say, six weeks, I’ll give up.’

  ‘I thought these things could take years.’

  ‘I can’t spare years. I need to earn a living.’

  The clock on the mantelpiece chimed seven.

  Max put his empty plate on the tray. ‘I’ll have to make a move, love. I didn’t finish preparing upstairs, and they start to arrive at quarter past.’

  ‘OK. Thanks for listening.’

  ‘Let me know what you decide.’

  Rona garaged the car in Charlton Road, snapped on Gus’s lead, and turned towards home. The dog, ever hopeful, tugged in the direction of the footpath leading up to the park, but she shook her head. It would be dark soon.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ she promised.

  As she walked slowly back to the house, her mind replayed the conversations she’d had, first with Zara Crane and then with Max. He had a point, she thought; Gemma’s parents must surely have known who the father was. She wondered if Zara had obtained her mother’s birth certificate, which would give their names.

  Back in the house she fed the dog, but still wasn’t hungry herself. She went up to the study, switched on the computer, and typed out everything she could remember that Zara had told her. Then she sat staring at the screen, trying to decide what to do. Would Barnie be interested in articles on the search for birth parents? Surely it would be fascinating to learn of the different reactions – parent to child, child to parent, and how often parents refused even to meet their offspring? She would have to sell it to him if she were to proceed with Zara’s request; though she was freelance, she tended to confine herself to Chiltern Life, and couldn’t offhand think of anyone else to whom to send the article. And the more she thought about it, the more she felt she’d like to do it.

  Finally, hunger at last beginning to stir, she turned off the computer and went downstairs, deciding to go along to Dino’s for a meal. She hadn’t booked, but a Monday evening shouldn’t be too busy, and she was confident he would squeeze her in. She and Max were regular customers and, hating cooking as she did, she often went alone when he was working.

  Ten minutes later, with Gus at her side, she set off down the avenue and turned into Fullers Walk, at the top of which lay Guild Street, the main shopping area. Dean’s Crescent, however, branched off about two thirds of the way along, winding its way past the restaurant and the offices of Chiltern Life to the upper end of Guild Street, and, having crossed it, became Dean’s Crescent North, where she’d left Max an hour or so earlier.

  Dino greeted her with his usual exuberance. ‘Ah signora! Benvenuto! You are alone this evening? We will find you a nice table.’

  She was following him across the room when a voice hailed her, and she turned to see Gavin Ridgeway rising to his feet at a table nearby. ‘Rona! Max not with you? Come and join me.’

  ‘Hello, Gavin. Are you on your own, too?’

  ‘Magda’s off on a buying trip. Let’s be lonely together!’

  She hesitated, not sure she wanted an evening in Gavin’s exclusive company; it unsettled her that he should look so exactly the same as when they’d been together – attractively irregular features, thick, ash-blond hair. However, she could scarcely decline. With an apologetic glance at Dino, she went to join him, and he pulled out a chair as Dino signalled a waiter to lay another place. She was being foolish, she told herself; their romance was five years in the past and both were now happily married. All the same, an underlying guilt remained that, while considering his proposal, she had met and fallen for Max.

  He handed her the menu and, recalling the appetizing smell of Max’s supper, she ordered lasagne al forno.

  ‘It was a good party the other week,’ she began, as he poured her some wine.

  ‘Glad you enjoyed it. The trouble with that sort of do is there’s never time for a proper conversation, especially if you happen to be the host.’

  Rona toyed with the roll on her plate. ‘That couple I was talking to when you “rescued” me,’ she began diffidently.

  ‘The Cranes?’

  ‘Yes. You were right; I was in need of rescuing.’

  He smiled. ‘To be honest, I wasn’t sure they’d fit in, but I like young Crane and he’s been a bit down in the mouth lately.’

  Rona looked up quickly. ‘Oh?’

  ‘Turns out his wife was adopted, and, now they’re expecting a family, she’s set her heart on tracing her parents.’ He hesitated. ‘And strictly entre nous, they had rather a shock when they looked into it.’

  ‘Oh?’ Rona said again, conscious of her quickened heartbeat.

  ‘Her mother had been murdered, would you believe?’

  She took a quick decision; Zara had not requested secrecy, and if she undertook the task, her involvement would s
oon become common knowledge. ‘Actually, Gavin, I know about it,’ she admitted. ‘That’s what I meant about needing to be rescued. She wants me to find her killer.’

  He put down his glass and stared at her. Then he gave a shout of laughter. ‘God, Rona, you’re not serious? How the hell did she …? Ah, I remember now: Magda was proclaiming your successes in that field last time we saw them. I thought at the time young Zara seemed unduly interested. Did she ask you at the party?’

  ‘Only to discuss something; I went round this afternoon.’

  ‘Are you going to do it?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Their plates were set before them and they began to eat in silence. Then Rona said tentatively, ‘You say her husband seems depressed?’

  Gavin shrugged. ‘He wants her to drop it, obviously. Thinks it might harm the baby if she has any more upsets. Whether that’s feasible or not, I wouldn’t know.’

  ‘It’s odd they never found out who did it. The absent father seems to have been the only suspect, and he had the best of alibis.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘By emigrating to Australia months earlier, blissfully unaware of impending parenthood.’

  ‘Ah! That, I didn’t know.’ Gavin glanced at her. ‘How does Max feel about this? Your taking it on, I mean?’

  Rona pulled a face. ‘As you’d expect.’

  ‘Can’t say I blame him. You’ve had some narrow escapes this last year.’

  ‘His point exactly.’ The corners of her mouth lifted. ‘I have to say, though, that hunting murderers adds a certain piquancy to life!’

  ‘Well, for God’s sake be careful.’

  ‘Oh, I shall. Now, that’s enough about me. Where’s Magda swanned off to?’

  ‘Paris,’ he replied, refilling her glass. ‘Some people have all the luck.’

  ‘Is she still planning on putting cafés into her boutiques?’

  ‘In principle, yes; there are a few where it wouldn’t be practicable, but she’s doing some market research.’

  ‘The one in Buckford was great.’

  Gavin smiled. ‘That’s her flagship.’

  The waiter approached to enquire if they’d like a dessert, but they settled for coffee and the accompanying amaretti.

  ‘And separate bills, please,’ Rona added as he moved away.

  ‘Oh, now look—’ Gavin began, but Rona cut in.

  ‘No, Gavin, I mean it. The last time we met here, with Magda, you insisted on paying, which was very generous, but I can’t let you make a habit of it. This is one of my favourite haunts, and I can’t run the risk, every time I come, of someone I know trying to treat me. It was great having your company, but I pay my own way. OK?’

  ‘Far be it for me to argue, Ms Parish.’

  ‘Good,’ she said, and purposefully took out her credit card.

  Minutes later they were on the pavement outside. Gavin’s car was parked in the small yard behind the restaurant. ‘Can I run you home?’ he offered, but she shook her head.

  ‘As you know, it’s just round the corner, and Gus will protect me from any bogeymen.’

  ‘As long as you’re sure. It was good to see you, Rona. Mind how you go.’

  ‘I will. Love to Magda. Goodnight, Gavin.’

  With Gus’s lead tightly in her hand, she walked swiftly down the pavement and rounded the corner without looking back. Where Gavin was concerned, she thought, it was a policy she’d be well advised to follow.

  Four

  The next morning, Rona was still wondering how best to put the proposal to Barnie when Dinah phoned.

  ‘Rona – ages since I saw you! How about you and Max coming over and meeting the family? Melissa would love to see you again, and I don’t think you’ve ever met Sam, have you, let alone little Martha?’

  ‘That would be great, Dinah.’

  ‘Lunch time would be better than evening, from the children’s point of view. How about Sunday? Are you free?’

  Fleetingly, Rona thought of her parents, but no invitation had been forthcoming. ‘Yes, that’d be fine, thanks.’

  ‘Come over about twelve, then – and pray for a fine, warm day! Indoors, the noise level can be excruciating if they let rip together. The cats flee to the top of my wardrobe!’

  The Trents had three Siamese, who had long ago formed a non-aggression pact with Gus.

  As soon as Dinah rang off, Rona pressed the button for Chiltern Life and asked to be put through to Barnie.

  ‘Telepathy!’ he greeted her. ‘We were talking about you at breakfast; you’ll be getting a call from Dinah later.’

  ‘I already have,’ Rona told him. ‘Lunch on Sunday.’

  ‘Well, she doesn’t waste time, I’ll say that for her! What can I do for you?’

  Quickly and as succinctly as possible, Rona outlined her proposal. When she finished, there was a lengthy silence.

  ‘What do you think?’ she asked, when the suspense became unbearable.

  ‘Not too keen, to be honest. Principally because I don’t want to be responsible for you getting into deep water, and it seems to me that’s the way you’re heading.’

  ‘But surely it would be interesting to follow someone’s search for her birth parents?’

  ‘Don’t be naïve, Rona; you know as well as I do it’s the murder angle that interests you. Oh, I know you’ve been there before, but at least on those occasions you stumbled into it unknowingly.’

  ‘Surely being aware of it would give me an advantage? Quite apart from that, though, I’d like to have a go at running the father to earth. OK, so he went to Oz twenty-five years ago, but he might have come back since. If I could find one parent for her, it would be something.’

  There was another pause. ‘If I said no, would you still go ahead?’

  Rona considered the question. ‘Possibly. I was saying to Max that, either way, I’d set myself a time limit to come up with something. If there was absolutely nothing after six weeks, I’d give up. And I reckon, if I have to, I can afford to waste six weeks.’

  ‘And if something did come up?’

  ‘Well—’

  ‘I take that as a “yes”. Tell you what: I’m not going to commission this article, and if you write it, I might not publish it. We may need the lawyers to look at it, for one thing. But if you produce something interesting and I feel it’s appropriate to the magazine, then I’ll certainly consider it. Will that do?’

  Rona sighed. ‘I suppose it’ll have to,’ she said.

  That evening, she phoned Zara.

  ‘Rona! I wasn’t expecting – you said the end of the week.’

  ‘I know, but I’ve reached my decision.’ No need to tell her of Barnie’s reservations. ‘I’m prepared to spend six weeks looking into your family, on the understanding that if I can’t find anything in that time, I’ll give up. Are you agreeable to that?’

  ‘Oh.’ Pause. ‘I suppose so.’

  Take it or leave it, Rona thought. ‘If you want me to go ahead on those terms, I’ll need quite a lot more information.’

  ‘Of course – such as what?’

  ‘For a start, photocopies of your birth and your mother’s death certificates. And I could do with her birth certificate, too; that would give your grandparents’ full names and address.’

  ‘Oh, yes! I never—’

  ‘Did you check for a marriage certificate, by the way?’

  ‘I checked, but I never expected to find one.’

  ‘And you didn’t?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘The next thing is, did you by any chance take copies of the write-ups in the papers?’

  ‘Yes – every mention we could find.’

  ‘That’s great – could I borrow them? There’s no point in duplicating the work.’

  Selina Someone’s proper name might appear in the reports, Rona reckoned; failing that, she’d turn up the electoral register. The girl was sharing with Gemma, dammit; it was inconceivable that she hadn’t known more than she’d said.
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br />   Now for the tricky bit. ‘There’s one thing more, Zara. If I find what we’re looking for, or any part of it, I must have complete freedom in writing it up. You can read it before I submit it, but on the understanding that the only changes I’ll agree to are errors of fact. In other words, even if there are parts you’d rather I left out, they’d have to stand.’

  ‘You mean, once you’ve started, I can’t change my mind?’

  ‘Not without very good reason.’

  ‘OK, I suppose that’s fair enough.’

  ‘Fine. Well, once you have Gemma’s birth certificate, we can arrange a meeting to hand over all the relevant papers.’ She hesitated, then added gently, ‘It’s still not too late to withdraw, if you’re having second thoughts.’

  Zara gave a little laugh. ‘It just seems so – official, all of a sudden. But no, I’ve set my heart on finding out as much as I can, and you’re my best bet. I’d like you to go ahead.’

  ‘Fine. We’ll be in touch, then.’

  The phone rang immediately she put it down, and as she lifted it again, her mother’s voice said, ‘Lunch on Sunday all right?’

  ‘Oh Mum, I’m sorry! You’re about twelve hours too late!’ Thank goodness! Rona thought involuntarily, hating herself.

  ‘I didn’t realize you required so much notice,’ Avril said stiffly.

  ‘Mel and the children are over from the States – the Trents’ daughter, you know – and Dinah’s invited us to meet them.’

  ‘But Sunday’s a family day; surely she knows that? Why can’t you go on Saturday?’

  ‘We weren’t invited for Saturday,’ Rona said, an edge creeping into her voice. Then, against her better judgement, ‘Could we come to you then?’

  ‘No, that won’t do; I’ve already got something on.’

  I, not we?

  ‘Sounds interesting; what are you doing?’

  ‘Playing in a bridge tournament, as it happens.’

  ‘At the weekend?’ A pause. ‘What about Pops?’

 

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