by Anne Mather
‘How… how will I know?’ she cried tearfully. ‘Daddy, where are you?'
She came forward falteringly, and the man lunged forward, grabbing her leg, and throwing her off balance. She fell, hitting her head against the lacquered cabinet of the cocktail bar. Mercifully, the gun fell under her, harmlessly.
Damon brought his fist down on the man's temple, momentarily stunning him, then called:
‘Annabel, Annabel! Are you all right?'
The little girl was moving again, scrambling to her feet slowly, lifting the gun again.
‘Ye… yes, I'm all right,’ she said dazedly, rubbing her eyes. ‘Daddy? Are you still there?'
‘Here… here!’ The man was moving again. He must be incredibly strong, thought Damon wearily. ‘Annabel, the gun! But don't come too close.'
Annabel moved towards them and circled them warily. She stepped over the tumbled rug and leaning forward put the gun into Damon's hand. With a superhuman effort he brought the butt down on the side of the man's head, hitting a vulnerable spot, and with a groan the man slumped unconscious.
His shoulders hunched, Damon got wearily to his feet, and as he did so two figures appeared in the french door. He stared at them, raising the gun, then saying incredulously:
‘Inspector Howard! Good God, man, where did you spring from?'
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
INSPECTOR HOWARD, a loosely-built man in his early fifties, strolled into the room, as casually as though it was any routine call. The sergeant who was with him bent and clipped handcuffs on the man's wrists who was lying unconscious on the floor, clipping them behind his back to prevent any escape.
‘Now then, Damon,’ he said, crossing to the couch where Emma lay, gradually returning to a pained consciousness. ‘What on earth have you been doing? Throwing a wild party?’ He grinned, realizing the necessity to release the tension in the room.
Damon slumped, sinking down wearily on to a low chair, his hands, one still holding the gun, hanging loosely between his knees. ‘Is she all right?’ he asked, looking intently at his friend.
The inspector straightened. ‘She's coming round,’ he said. ‘She's lost a lot of blood. Phillips, go and use the radio on the launch. Send for Doctor Meredith, and tell him to bring transfusion equipment just in case. I don't suppose you know what blood group she is, do you, Damon?'
Damon shook his head, and the sergeant nodded to his superior and went out. ‘She'll be okay,’ said the inspector. ‘How about you? And you, too, little Annabella?'
Annabel was standing, leaning against the back of her father's chair, a wild, strained look in her eyes. She did not answer the inspector and her father swung round.
‘Annabel,’ he murmured. ‘Honey, are you all right?'
Annabel shook her head. ‘Daddy,’ she said faintly. ‘Didn't you notice? I gave you the gun.'
Damon sprang up, his weariness evaporating. ‘Annabel!’ he exclaimed. ‘So you did! Can you see!’ He was incredulous.
Emma, hearing his words, propped herself up, too. ‘Can you?’ she asked weakly. ‘Annabel, can you really?'
Annabel gripped the chair very tightly. ‘Well… I'm beginning to, I think,’ she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘I… I can't see clearly. It's all blurred, but I could tell which was you, Daddy. I had to, didn't I?'
Damon pulled her to him, hugging her closely. ‘Oh, Annabel,’ he said, almost choking with emotion. ‘Annabel!'
Annabel hugged him, and then, watched intently by Damon and the inspector, she made her way slowly to Emma on the couch. Emma slumped back, unable to hold up any longer, and Annabel bent over her, burying her face in her neck. ‘Oh, Emma,’ she whispered, ‘I'm going to see again, aren't I?'
Damon thought tiredly that it was worth the night of terror if it meant that Annabel should see again. It might take time, but the blockage had been broken, and the first light could be seen.
He went down on his knees beside the couch when Annabel drew back, and said:
‘Darling Emma, are you really all right?'
Emma squeezed his hand tightly. ‘I will be. It's only a little painful. I've got to be, haven't I? There's so much to look forward to.'
Damon kissed her hand gently, and then rose to his feet again.
‘And now,’ he said, turning to the inspector, ‘explanations, please. Why are you here? And what about that man's accomplices?'
‘He had only one accomplice,’ replied Inspector Howard, ‘and we dealt with him on the beach.'
‘I see. But how do you come to be here? I mean, how could you know?'
‘We didn't. Oh, at least, we've known these two were in Nassau since their plane landed, but naturally we didn't connect them with you. Why should we? But they've been kept under surveillance, just the same. No, Damon, it wasn't them who brought us here, although we heard a shot as we neared the island, and knew something was up. It was your nurse, a Miss Emma Harding. Is she here?'
Damon's eyes narrowed. ‘I'm Emma Harding,’ said Emma, her cheeks paler than ever. ‘What do you want me for?'
The inspector's eyes darkened. ‘But I thought… I mean… ’ he looked helplessly at Damon. ‘From your attitude I naturally assumed that this young lady was… well…'
‘She is my fiancée,’ replied Damon coolly. ‘We're being married at the end of the week. Why?'
‘I see.’ The inspector nodded. ‘How very unfortunate!'
Emma gasped as she fell back suddenly, a hand to her shoulder. She had passed out again.
‘Oh, God!’ said Damon, crossing swiftly to her side. ‘Do you think I should try and take her to the mainland?'
‘No. Don't move her. You would only do her more harm than good.'
The sergeant returned at that moment before any more could be said. ‘The doctor's on his way,’ he said, in answer to their questioning glances. ‘He's coming from Aldoro. He should be here in twenty minutes.'
‘Thank heaven', said Damon fervently. ‘But, Bob,’ he turned to the inspector, ‘what's happened? What do you want Emma for?'
The inspector frowned. ‘Unfortunately, in the circumstances, which you, my friend, have yet to explain, I have some bad news for her. It would be as well if we discussed this matter elsewhere, in case she should regain consciousness and overhear our conversation.'
Damon heard footsteps outside, and said: ‘Good lord, Louisa, and the rest of the household. No one has been to see if they're all right.'
‘Sergeant.’ Inspector Howard indicated that Phillips should go and investigate, while Tansy, the old housekeeper, appeared in the doorway
‘Why, Mr. Thorne,’ she exclaimed. ‘What on earth is going on?'
Damon shook his head wearily. ‘I'll explain later, Tansy,’ he said. ‘Are you all right? Has anyone been to your room?'
‘Not that I know of. Why? Has there been trouble?’ She saw the body on the floor and gasped, ‘Lord help us, what's going on?'
‘Later, Tansy, later,’ said Damon impatiently. ‘Look. Emma has been injured. The doctor is on his way. Could you stay here with her while I speak to the Inspector in private?'
‘Of course, of course.’ Tansy hurried across the room to Emma's side. ‘Och, the poor child! And Annabel, my love, are you feeling all right? No one has harmed you, have they?'
Annabel danced up and down, excitement vying with the feeling of frightened helplessness which was gradually evaporating. Damon and the inspector left her telling Tansy her good news.
In Damon's study he turned to his friend impatiently. ‘What bad news?’ he asked.
‘She had a brother, is that right? John Harding?'
‘Had a brother?'
‘I'm afraid so. Did you know, by the way, that he'd stolen over two hundred pounds from your company?'
‘A while ago, yes,’ Damon nodded. ‘That's being dealt with.'
‘No, during the last couple of months. It's the usual story – debts he couldn't pay, threatened by thugs hired by the bosses of these gambling clubs to collect
their debts for them.'
‘And?’ Damon's eyes had narrowed.
‘Apparently he wrote to his sister, asking her to send him authority to draw some money from her bank. Your… er… fiancée sent him that authority, but it wasn't enough. The night before last he was involved in a car chase through the streets of London; whether intentionally or unintentionally we shall never know, but he crashed. He was killed instantly. The London police traced his nearest relative to your household.'
‘I see.’ Damon ran a tired hand over his forehead. ‘What a business! But I don't think she ought to be told right now. She's been through enough tonight.'
‘I agree,’ the inspector nodded. ‘Come, we'd better return to your housekeeper. I should hate that man to come round and attack her.'
Phillips had returned when they got back to the lounge. He told them that as only Louisa Meredith slept in this part of the house, apart from Damon, Annabel and Emma of course, she had been the only one disturbed.
She had been knocked unconscious, but was recovering now and would likely be examined by Doctor Meredith on his arrival.
Emma was only half conscious now, and Damon swore angrily.
‘Where the devil is Meredith?’ he stormed, striding about the room. ‘Doesn't he know this is an emergency?'
Inspector Howard regarded him compassionately. ‘Damon,’ he said, ‘let's try and pass the time by considering the circumstances which led up to this situation. Why were these men here? What was their motive for attacking you?'
Slowly, and methodically, Damon gave the inspector the whole story, from the time he first saw Tsai Pen Lung in Hong Kong Airport. He told him about the killings in San Francisco, and the ultimate search of his apartment. Finally he described the night which had just passed.
Sergeant Phillips had written it all down, and the inspector frowned thoughtfully.
‘It's very strange,’ he said, ‘that you should be contacted by the girl if you weren't involved. Myself, like these men, I would surmise that you'd agreed to act as contact, after the death of this other Englishman.’ He drew out his cigarette case. ‘You must see, Damon, that your actions have been such as to arouse suspicion. After all, your home is here, yet you return directly to London after leaving San Francisco.'
‘I'm a businessman,’ exclaimed Damon wearily. ‘I go where I have to. Besides, if I'd been the contact, why didn't I leave the film, if there is such a thing, in London?'
The inspector shrugged. ‘Oh, there'll be such a thing,’ he said definitely. ‘It's possible that you might be considering putting the film up for auction. It has been known.'
‘You mean… to different governments?'
‘Exactly. I can imagine several heads of state who would like to read what's on that film.'
‘Bob! Do you honestly think I might really have the film?’ Damon was aghast.
Inspector Howard shook his head. ‘No, Damon, I don't. I've known you too many years to be able to believe that you would willingly put Miss Harding and your daughter's life in danger for the sake of something like this. Besides, you're not that kind of man.'
‘Thank God for that!’ muttered Damon fervently.
Footsteps outside heralded the arrival of the doctor. Damon breathed a sigh of relief, and while Doctor Meredith examined Emma, two stalwart police officers who had arrived with the doctor removed the recovering body of the intruder from the floor of the lounge.
Things were gradually returning to normal. Tansy took Annabel away and tucked her up in bed where Doctor Meredith would examine her in due course, while after an injection and treatment for her shoulder, Emma was carried upstairs by Sergeant Phillips and put to bed. Damon had wanted to carry her up, but the inspector had detained him, asking more questions, and stating that Damon was in no fit state to carry anyone around.
After the room had been emptied, Damon sank down exhaustedly on the couch.
‘Not long now,’ said the inspector, patting his shoulder. ‘I'm sorry to plague you like this, but getting rid of those two is not the end of the affair. So long as they think you have the film you're in danger, so somehow between us we've got to make sure you haven't, and if you haven't, where is it?'
Damon shook his head. ‘Hell, Bob, don't you think I want to know that? I'm heartily sick of the whole affair, and I want out!'
‘Well, you can't get out, without some difficulty,’ remarked the inspector. ‘Once this film is in the authorities’ hands, you're a free man, but until then…'
‘… I'm to be hounded!’ muttered Damon glumly. ‘I need a drink!'
Inspector Howard poured him a stiff whisky and handed it to him. Damon gulped it thirstily, and the inspector poured him another. Damon felt around for his cigarettes, sliding one into his mouth, and producing his lighter automatically.
Then, like a flash of lightning, a thought struck him.
‘I've had an idea,’ he exclaimed, getting to his feet a little unsteadily.
‘Well, steady on,’ said Inspector Howard. ‘Think calmly!'
‘I can't. God, why didn't I think of it before?'
The inspector sighed. ‘Think of what?'
‘Well, whenever I've thought of Tsai, it's always been about the times I was with her, and then I knew she'd run out on me because she was frightened. But there's something else I forgot. When we were in this bar in Frisco, she borrowed my lighter; this lighter. Then, when she got frightened, as I told you, she disappeared, but she took my lighter with her. At first I thought she'd stolen it, but when we went out of the bar, the manager of the hotel gave me the lighter back again, and I thought no more about it. I knew by then she'd left, of course, and I naturally assumed she'd just returned my lighter as an afterthought. Don't you see? That might be the link?'
The inspector looked interested. ‘It might indeed. Damon, why didn't you think of this before?'
‘It's like I told you. It never really seemed important. But now I see it was the most important thing of all.'
The inspector took the lighter from him swiftly, flicking it expertly. It lit at once, and there was obviously nothing wrong with its mechanics.
‘The filling,’ said the inspector, rapidly unscrewing the pin at the bottom. With cool precision he drew out the cottonwool from the tiny hole, and Damon envied him his control.
He emptied the contents on to the glass top of a coffee table, and suddenly there it was – a minute roll of film, embedded in cottonwool.
‘Excellent,’ said Inspector Howard, with a mocking smile. ‘I shall expect promotion for this!'
Damon smiled also, unable to believe it was all over. ‘You deserve it, Chief Inspector,’ he muttered, lighting his cigarette with a match from a box on the table. ‘What a night, what a night!'
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EXACTLY one month later Emma carried a tray of tea into her husband's bedroom at their London apartment. She was wearing a dark blue silk dressing gown which moulded the full curves of her slim body. With a blue hairband securing the swathe of dark hair, she looked about eighteen, thought Damon, as he lay lazily watching her approach. Although she had been his wife for two whole weeks he still had not lost that thrill of possession he had first felt when he slid the broad gold band on her finger.
And they were happy, as he had known they would be, and she was everything he had ever wanted in a woman. She had lost now that faint air of nervousness she had shown the first night they were together, when she had been half afraid to release her emotions fully. But gradually he had taught her how to please him and in so doing had opened up a whole new exciting world for herself. Now she was completely uninhibited with him, as eager as he was to climb the heights of passion. He could still make the hot colour flood her cheeks if ever he gently mocked her, but she was getting to know him all the time so that she knew when he was teasing her, and could retaliate in kind.
Now she placed the tea tray on a low table beside the bed, and said:
‘Did I waken you?'
‘Hm, wh
at time is it?'
Emma lifted his watch off the dressing table. ‘Almost eight,’ she replied, replacing it. ‘Do you want some tea?'
Damon grinned. ‘Do you?'
‘Yes.’ Emma poured herself a cup, adding milk and sugar. Then seating herself in a low armchair at the foot of the bed she sipped it, eyeing him covertly over the rim of the cup.
Damon shrugged, and leaning over poured himself a cup too, which he drank in two mouthfuls. ‘There,’ he remarked mockingly. ‘Thank you.'
Emma smiled. ‘Well,’ she said defensively, ‘I was thirsty.'
‘Come here,’ he said.
Emma continued to sip her tea, ignoring him.
‘Come here,’ he repeated commandingly.
Emma shook her head. ‘I want to finish my tea.'
It was a delicious excitement to torment him like this, for she knew what form her punishment would take. Damon's eyes had darkened, and she thought how utterly he held her in thrall. She knew every line of his hard body, had known what it was like to hold him trembling with passion in her arms. She loved him completely, and could not bear now the thought of life without him.
She finished her tea, and rose to her feet, stretching lazily. Damon rolled on to his stomach and closed his eyes. Emma compressed her lips.
‘Damon,’ she said tentatively. ‘Damon!'
‘Mmn?’ he grunted, and Emma kicked off her slippers angrily.
Then she walked to the bed, and pulled him round to face her. He did not touch her, allowing her to make all the running. ‘Damon,’ she said appealingly, ‘don't be cross with me.'
Damon smiled lazily. ‘I'm not cross,’ he replied. ‘Go and get dressed. I'm not getting up yet.'
‘Oh, you!’ Emma stamped her foot with rage, and he laughed.
‘Temper, temper,’ he said mockingly, and then, unable to tease her any longer, pulled her down to him, kicking aside the silk coverings of the bed so that she was close against the muscular warmth of his body.
‘Damon,’ she whispered achingly, ‘what if someone should come in?'
‘You're my wife, aren't you?’ he murmured thickly, his mouth satisfactorily silencing any further protest she might have felt it her duty to make.