‘Did her parents know?’
‘No, ma’am. Anna Louise called me on my portable, I had to get up an’ dressed. It was comin’ up to around five o’clock.’
‘How come you’ve never mentioned this to anyone before?’
He walked round to a bucket and dunked his leather into the soapy water. ‘I didn’t want no trouble, they were just foolin’ around, the way kids do. I brought them home, no more to it.’
‘You ever picked Anna Louise up from a club before?’
‘No, ma’am. She’d call me from a few parties, never wanted to drive when she was not sober. We hadda kind of arrangement, safer that way.’
‘Who was she with?’
‘Most times with her friend Tilda. She didn’t go out much, only when Miss Brown was stayin’. Everyone said that Miss Brown was a nice girl, but me, well, I didn’t. I think she was a bad influence on Miss Anna Louise but I never said nothin’ to nobody, not my business.’
‘You know anyone called Polar?’
‘No, ma’am, I do not, an’ if you’ll excuse me, I need to wash over the wheels now.’
Lorraine stepped aside. ‘Did you take Tilda Brown to the airport?’
‘I did.’
‘She say anything?’
‘No, she knew I didn’t like her, she never spoke to me. Miss Tilda Brown is a high and mighty little minx.’
Lorraine turned as she heard her name called. Phyllis was standing on the front steps of the house. She looked confused. ‘Why, Mrs Page, I’ve only just sent off your money. I didn’t expect to see you, is there a problem?’
‘No, I just need to speak to Mrs Caley before we leave. She is in, isn’t she? Only I arranged to see her at eleven but I’ve been held up.’ Lorraine joined Phyllis on the steps.
‘I doubt if she will agree to see you, she never mentioned to me that you would be coming over and she is meeting her agent, so . . .’
Phyllis walked into the hallway, as if to close the front door, but Lorraine was right behind her.
‘I need to talk to her, it’s very important.’
‘I really can’t interrupt her, she is dressing.’
‘Yes, you can, Phyllis, because I am not leaving this house until I see her.’
‘I am sorry, but Mrs Caley cannot see anyone.’
‘Don’t you think you should ask me, Phyllis?’ Elizabeth Caley stood at the top of the stairs, looking poised and immaculate. ‘I’ll come down, Mrs Page, but I only have about half an hour.’ Elizabeth stepped brightly and steadily down the stairs, her perfume reaching Lorraine long before the delicate white outstretched hand tapped her shoulder.
Lorraine followed Elizabeth into the sun room. All the blinds were drawn and the overpowering smell of lilies mixed with Elizabeth’s flowery perfume made her want to gasp for fresh air. They sat at a small white table on two delicate cushioned chairs among the profusion of plants.
‘I’ll get straight to the point.’
‘I hope you will, darling. My agent will be here shortly, it seems I am being offered work. Since Anna Louise disappeared I’ve had so much press, disgusting really, I think a lot of people in the industry thought I was dead. Of course, I won’t do it but he is most insistent that I at least discuss the offers. There is nothing sadder than resurrecting old has-beens like myself.’ She laughed.
‘You look wonderful,’ Lorraine said, and meant it. Not a hair of the coal-black braided bun at the nape of Mrs Caley’s neck was out of place, her make-up was perfect, and her simple pale lemon suit with tight-fitting pencil skirt showed off her slim legs and feet in their white high-heeled sandals. She was wearing a tiny gold ankle chain with a diamond drop, diamond earrings and the large diamond and emerald ring on her wedding finger. Beside her, Lorraine felt and looked cheap; this make-over job on Elizabeth Caley had cost a lot of money and it showed.
At that moment, tea and coffee were brought in by the mute butler.
‘Thank you, Peters,’ Mrs Caley said as she poured her pale greenish tea. She looked at Lorraine. ‘You’ve found out something, haven’t you?’ Her voice was soft, almost frightened.
Yes, I have.’
She closed her eyes. ‘It’s not good, is it?’
‘No.’
‘Well, get straight to the point, Mrs Page, don’t keep me in suspense.’
Lorraine reached for her briefcase. ‘I am sorry, but what I’m going to show you will be very upsetting.’ She passed over the photograph and waited, watching Mrs Caley like a hawk. She saw her eyes widen, saw her swallow once, twice, then breathe in deeply as she stared at the photograph of her daughter. She then passed it back to Lorraine.
‘Why? Why would she do something like that? Why?’ Her lips quivered, then her brow puckered. She seemed to be trying not to weep in order not to spoil her makeup. ‘Who are those people with her?’
‘I know two. One is a hairdresser and the other a fellow-student.’
She shook her head. ‘Dear God, they should be arrested. Where was it taken?’
‘In a club. It’s called the Viper Room.’
‘Don’t show it to Robert, please don’t let him see that disgusting display or he’ll . . . he’ll kill them. He wouldn’t believe it, he has no idea.’
‘Did you have any idea?’
‘What? Did I know my daughter was making a public spectacle of herself? Did I know my daughter was being fucked by a group of men like a whore? No! I did not know! But I wish to God I had.’ She clenched her hands. ‘What kind of a woman do you think I am?’
‘You have a drug problem, I know that.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Let’s not play games, Mrs Caley, I know about your doctor. Do you know, really know, what chances you are taking?’
‘Who told you this?’
‘I found it out, Mrs Caley, that is my job. But are you fully aware of the enormous risks you are taking with your own life? You are using temazepam sleeping tablets.’
‘Wouldn’t you, under the circumstances?’ she snapped.
‘What you are doing is lethal and you must take medical advice and as soon as possible. I believe you are injecting temazepam—’
Mrs Caley pushed at the table. ‘Phyllis, has Phyllis been talking to you?’
Your doctor has been arrested . . .’
‘Oh, my God. Did he tell you? What has he said to you?’
Lorraine opened her cigarette pack and proffered one to Elizabeth Caley, who swiped the pack out of her hand.
‘You are supposed to be investigating the disappearance of my daughter, not delving into my private life. You had no right to make any enquiries about my personal—’
Lorraine interrupted, her voice controlled and very firm. ‘I am trying to ascertain the whereabouts of your daughter. And I would say your drug problems might have some connection. So I am asking you again, did your daughter also use drugs, Mrs Caley?’
‘No, she did not.’
‘Did she know of your drug addiction?’
Elizabeth Caley sighed impatiently. ‘Yes, but she would not even contemplate using drugs herself. She saw too much anguish and pain, regret and dependency in her own mother.’
‘Were you aware that Tilda Brown also frequented these clubs with your daughter?’
‘Tilda was with Anna Louise?’
‘I believe so. Did you know the two girls had some kind of argument the day before you left for New Orleans?’
‘I don’t know what they were arguing about, just that Tilda decided to leave, silly really. I just let them get on with it.’
Lorraine wasn’t going to let Mrs Caley off the hook. She tried again.
‘Do you have drug dealers in New Orleans?’ She knew she had hit a red zone; Elizabeth Caley’s face was glistening with sweat and she was becoming more agitated by the second.
‘Oh God, Robert will be so angry, this is terrible. You see, he is in the middle of this big business deal and—’
‘I only need a name, Mrs Caley, someone
you usually contact there.’
‘No, no, please, if this was ever to get out, if anyone there was to know . . .’ She seemed to fall apart in front of Lorraine’s eyes, slumping into a chair and crying. The make-up smeared, and she held her head in her hands as though it ached, pulling loose her tightly coiled hair. She continued to sweat profusely.
Lorraine leaned forward to touch her. ‘Please, I will be discreet, I promise you, but I do need to question everyone possible. You want me to find your daughter, don’t you?’
‘Yes, yes, I do,’ she murmured, and then her body began to shake uncontrollably and she screamed, ‘Phyllis, Phyllis, Phyllis!’
Phyllis came running as Elizabeth Caley lost control of herself. Urine trickled down her legs, her limbs jerking and her head twitching.
‘It’s all right, I’m here, I’m here, Mrs Caley, just hold on to me, you’re going to be all right, just hold on to me. Oh, my God, help me, for God’s sake, help me, she’s going into a spasm . . .’
Peters came running and between them they helped her from the sun room. Lorraine followed them out into the hall and watched as Peters carried Elizabeth up the stairs.
‘Please stay down here,’ he said angrily to Lorraine.
‘Yes, just leave her alone,’ Phyllis interjected.
Lorraine sighed with irritation but there was nothing she could do. She knew she would get little sense out of Mrs Caley now, so there seemed no point in remaining at the house. She returned to the sun room to collect her purse and cigarettes. A maid was already clearing up the tea trays.
Lorraine suddenly picked up the tea pot, took off the lid and sniffed; it smelt of mint and something else, a herbal smell. She sniffed again.
‘Excuse me, Mrs Page, may I take that from you?’ It was the dour Peters.
‘What the hell is in it?’
‘Just a herbal remedy, Mrs Caley has it delivered.’
‘Where from?’
Peters picked up the tray. ‘The Natural Health Store, I believe it’s called. Excuse me, I hope you won’t take offence but why don’t you leave her alone? She is very sick and it’s tragic to see her this way, just as she was recovering and—’
‘Yes, very reminiscent of Sunset Boulevard, but I wonder who will end up in the swimming pool?’
He stared hard at Lorraine and did not hide his disdain. ‘You should perhaps take great care or it could be you.’
He walked out. Lorraine was about to follow him when the maid gave a small nervous cough. Lorraine turned towards her. She gave a furtive look at Peters’s disappearing ramrod back before she whispered to Lorraine.
‘She gets it from home, ma’am. It’s no remedy.’
‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’
The girl chewed her lip and then made to pass Lorraine, frightened.
‘Wait, don’t go. Are you talking about the tea?’
Phyllis hurried in. ‘Get back into the house, Sylvana, go along, quickly now.’
Sylvana shot a frightened look at Lorraine before scurrying away.
Lorraine turned to Phyllis with concern. ‘Is Mrs Caley going to be all right?’
Phyllis shook her head and shrugged. ‘She’ll sleep it off.’
Lorraine took Phyllis’s arm as they walked back to the house. ‘Phyllis, you had better get Mrs Caley some treatment and fast, otherwise she’s going to kill herself.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Phyllis whispered, and then stopped in her tracks. ‘What did you say that made her get so upset?’
‘Who’s her drug dealer in New Orleans?’
Phyllis closed her eyes. ‘Oh God, this is dreadful, if Mr Caley was to know. Please, is it really necessary to—’
‘For chrissakes, Phyllis, I am trying to find her daughter! Now if you know and persist in withholding information from me, in giving me half-truths . . .’
Just as it seemed that Phyllis was about to confide in Lorraine, Robert Caley strode in. ‘What has been going on out here? Phyllis, you should be with Elizabeth. I want you to sit with her until a doctor comes to see her.’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Caley, I’ll go straight to her now.’
‘And stay with her, if she vomits she could . . .’ Robert Caley sighed, waited for Phyllis to go and then looked at Lorraine. ‘What did you say to her? She’s hysterical.’
‘I’m just trying to do my job, Mr Caley, but it seems everyone who works around here is so busy protecting your wife—’
‘You saw her, don’t you think she needs protecting?’ he snapped.
‘Yes, I do, but I don’t think you know how serious her condition is, Mr Caley.’
‘How dare you! I get her into a rehab centre and she’s cleaned up only to get back on whatever drugs she can get her hands on. Well, she’s going away this time whether she likes it or not . . .’
‘So you know what she’s taking?’
‘You name it and she’ll shove it up her nose, down her throat or inject it. Unless I put her under twenty-four-hour watch I can’t stop her. But believe me, I’ve tried.’
‘Right now, Mr Caley, your wife is using drugs that could very easily kill her. They are very dangerous used in the quantity she is injecting and she could easily induce a thrombosis.’
He closed his eyes. ‘Oh, my God, what is it – heroin?’
‘No, they are prescribed sleeping tablets.’
He sighed, giving a helpless gesture with his hands. ‘The last thing I need right now is some asshole to get hold of her condition and the story to be plastered over every shit-filled tabloid there is. My competitors’d love it, with Anna Louise missing you can bet any money they’d link her drug abuse to—’
‘What if it is?’ Lorraine interrupted. He frowned and looked at her. She was sure he was unaware of the exact drugs used by Elizabeth Caley. ‘Do you know who she used to procure drugs for her in New Orleans? Your wife has a very expensive habit, Mr Caley, and she’ll either take stuff with her or score it there, so maybe there is a link.’
He sat down, head in his hands as he rested his elbows on the table. ‘I doubt it, she has a pretty well-organized network of people who I think procure whatever she needs. And she pays highly for it, I have no doubt.’
‘You know any of them?’
‘I know her main contact is her own doctor. It’s madness, like a Catch-22 situation – if I report him he will obviously use my wife’s name, even more so now.’ He got up and stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. He seemed tired out. ‘I banned Juda Salina from the house but it didn’t do any good, she just went to her place . . .’
‘Juda Salina procured drugs for your wife? Are you sure?’
He cocked his head to one side. ‘Sure as I can be, but what can I do? Put the cops on her and then she informs the press who her client is?’
Lorraine leaned forward. ‘I don’t think her doctor will be able to practise for some considerable time – he was arrested two days ago, and as I believe your wife did not use her own name I doubt if there will be any adverse publicity. Well, I hope not for her sake as much as yours.’
‘Thank you,’ he said softly, and smiled, then gestured for her to walk beside him. ‘I need some air, let’s go into the garden.’
They walked side by side in silence along the narrow pathway past the manicured lawns and flower-beds. She felt him begin to relax and he gave her that gentle smile again.
‘You mind if I ask you something personal, Mr Caley?’
‘No, Mrs Page, you go right ahead. And if you don’t mind me being personal, I like this new haircut, it suits you.’
Lorraine ignored the compliment. ‘Do you love your wife?’
He wasn’t expecting the question and took a moment before he answered, shaking his head, ‘Of course I do, but maybe “care” would be a better description. If it wasn’t for her I’d still be bumming around selling real estate. That’s all I did, you know, when I met her, I was a real estate agent. In fact, I was trying to sell her a property.’
‘You got luck
y,’ Lorraine said softly, and his pleasant manner changed. He lost that vulnerable quality, his eyes hardened and his voice was cold.
‘No, Mrs Page, I fell in love with a very beautiful, sweet lady. Now unless you want to ask any further personal questions, I had better see to my wife . . . Oh, I offered you a ride, I’m flying to New Orleans tonight. If you wish to join me, call Phyllis, I’ll send my car round.’
‘I accept the ride but I’ll make my own way to the airport.’
‘Fine, Phyllis will give you details of which hangar my plane’s parked in. About six-thirty?’
‘Thank you, I’ll be there.’
‘I bet you will be, Mrs Page.’
He returned to the house, not looking back, and Lorraine remained standing alone, angry at herself. There was no need for her to have asked Caley if he loved his wife; she knew he didn’t but she believed he really did care about her.
She was getting into her car when she saw the private ambulance pull up in the drive. She took a long time unlocking the door, as she watched the two attendants hurry into the house. A third car was parked in the drive, a dark, four-door Mercedes Benz saloon. After a few moments the two attendants appeared on the steps, holding Elizabeth Caley between them. She was wearing a pair of dark glasses and a head-scarf swathed round her head and she was sobbing, needing the support of both men, but she made no attempt to resist as they helped her inside the ambulance.
Phyllis and Robert Caley came out behind Mrs Caley, accompanied by a tall man in a grey suit carrying a doctor’s bag. Lorraine could not delay leaving any longer, as all three turned towards her.
‘Goodbye, see you later,’ she called out, and then at once regretted her failure to say something more appropriate – even more so when she drove past the ambulance and caught a glimpse of Elizabeth Caley just before they closed the doors. She was weeping inconsolably, repeating her daughter’s name again and again – ‘Anna Louise, Anna Louise . . .’
CHAPTER 10
LORRAINE HAD expected a small twin-engined plane but Robert Caley owned a 1993 Citation Jet which made her Russian cab-driver whistle with open admiration. As she picked up her suitcase a tanned blond man jumped down the steps of the plane.
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