by McNeir, Leo
“No,” said Ralph. “I understand. It’s a pity you couldn’t disappear temporarily.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Ralph offered Randall the remains of the brandy and held the glass while he sipped. Randall coughed. Ralph said: “Do you know Murton?”
“Village outside Oxford?” said Randall.
“That’s the one. My cottage is there. It’s quite secluded, all by itself down near the river. It’s the sort of place I might offer to a friend while I was away, a friend who needed a break to think things over.”
Randall considered the implications. “You’re not going to call the police?”
“What for? It wouldn’t help matters. Under stress this could happen to anyone.”
“You have no idea,” said Randall, “what a comfort it is to hear you say that.”
“We’d better act quickly,” said Ralph. “Is your car nearby?” Ralph outlined his plan. Randall’s car was concealed in a barn not far away. He would stay at Molly’s house until nightfall and she would drive him to the barn after dark. Randall was to travel on minor roads to Ralph’s cottage near Oxford and make himself at home there, making it look as if he had been there for some days.
“Act surprised if you get a sudden visit from the police,” said Ralph.
Randall was incredulous. “How would they know I’m there?”
“I shall tell them,” said Ralph. “That’s the whole idea.”
“You’ll tell them,” Randall muttered distantly. “I see. Yes, of course. Sorry. Brain’s not working.”
“What about food?” said Molly. “You’ll need provisions. Why don’t I put together some things for you?”
“That seems a good idea,” said Ralph, taking the cottage key from his key-ring. “The important thing is to avoid main roads. You know the area. Tell me, are you fit to drive?”
“Oh yes,” said Randall, smiling weakly. “I’m a new man.”
“Good, good,” said Ralph. “Now we really must get on our way. Ring me on Marnie’s mobile if you need to. I’ll have to remember to drop you casually into the conversation when the opportunity arises.”
Anne quickly wrote the mobile number on a slip of paper and gave it to Randall. “I must get dressed,” she said and made for the loft-ladder.
“My special thanks to you, Anne,” said Randall. “I’m sorry you had to be involved in all this. By the way, where is Marnie? You didn’t say.”
“Molly will explain after we’ve gone. We must dash. I won’t be a minute, Ralph.” Turning to climb the ladder, she hesitated and looked back at Randall. “You must make sure no-one sees those marks on your neck.”
“Don’t worry. A dog-collar can hide a multitude of sins.”
*
Beth came back to Marnie’s bedside, tucking the used phonecard into her wallet. “I spoke to mum,” she said quietly to Paul. “Apparently dad’s in a terrible state about what’s happened. Anyway, she’s trying to get a flight for them tomorrow. It’s not that easy at this time of year. I didn’t want to worry her, but I told her they’d better get here as soon as possible.”
Neither she nor Paul noticed the nurse coming up until she was beside them. “Excuse me, can I ask if you’ll be wanting to stay in the guest room again tonight?”
“If that’s possible,” said Beth.
“It’s fine, only we’ve got someone coming in from out of town and the family will need a room. You know I gave you the message from your friend that she’s coming back? Well, we only have three rooms and we’re going to be full tonight, I’m afraid.”
“I see,” said Paul. “We’d better talk to Ralph.”
“Is that Dr Ralph Lombard?” said the nurse.
“That’s right.”
“If you see him before I do, will you tell him the police want to talk to him? It’s Sergeant Marriner.”
“He wants to see Ralph this evening?”
“No. He’s gone, but he said he’ll be here tomorrow morning.”
“Here he is now,” said Paul. Ralph and Anne walked round the corner of the unit, both of them pale and tired. The events at Glebe Farm had drained away the benefit Anne had derived from her nap. Ralph was running on reserve. The nurse gave him the message while Anne kissed Marnie on a part of her face that was not covered with tubes and sat down beside her.
“That’s good,” said Ralph. “I didn’t want to see them before tomorrow if possible.”
“Of course. You must be exhausted.” said Beth.
“That,” said Ralph, “and other reasons I’ll explain some time.”
“Ralph, we have a slight problem – no, not with Marnie. There’s only one guest room available tonight.”
“We’re going to be full, I’m afraid,” said the nurse.
“Perhaps Paul and I can go to a B and B,” Beth began.
“Don’t worry.” Anne stood up. “Unless you think we ought to stay here, we can go back to Glebe Farm.”
“Officially, I think we still regard you as a patient,” said the nurse. “But I don’t think anyone will object to you going home. We have a number and can reach you, if we have to.”
*
Leonard Fletcher came into the kitchen where his wife was laying sheets carefully folded on one of the shiny lids of the Aga. The room smelled of warm, fresh cotton.
“How is he?” she said.
“Asleep.”
“Already?”
“As soon as his head touched the pillow, I think. Out like a light.”
“Do you think he’s all right? When you brought him home, he looked shattered. And he’s not been himself for a while.”
“Oh yes, he’s all right now. I haven’t seen him so … settled for a long time.”
*
The meeting room at the police station in Towcester was stuffy and hot, the air stale and smoke-laden. Everybody present could sense the strain felt by DCI Bartlett. He seemed to have aged in the past week and the pressure was etched in the lines on his face.
“Any questions?” he said to the group of officers sprawled around the room.
“If we’ve got no evidence, sir, why are we holding Day?” It was a young DC on his first murder case.
“Good question. We’re going over all the facts again, no stone unturned. We’ll probably release him in the morning. Anything else?” No-one spoke. Bartlett dismissed the team. Only Marriner remained in the room.
“Not a lot to show for our efforts, sir,” he said. “Is that why we’re keeping Day in?” Bartlett nodded. Cathy Lamb looked in.
“I’ve rung the hospital,” she said. “No change.”
“Any comment?” said Bartlett.
“They won’t say what her chances are. ‘Ask us tomorrow’ is the best I could get.”
“Tomorrow,” said Bartlett.
“I’ll get over to the hospital with Cathy,” said Marriner. “We’ll have another talk with the girl and see Dr Lombard.”
“I’ll probably join you there,” said Bartlett. “I’ve got a meeting with Bragg and the ACC first thing.”
“Well, let’s hope things start to go our way tomorrow,” said Marriner.
“What the hell’s become of Hughes?” said Bartlett. “He’s disappeared into thin air. I’m sure he’s the key to all this.”
*
Randall arrived at Murton around eleven o’clock after a zig-zag journey over unmarked roads. The cottage was old and beamy with chintz covers on the sofas and shelves of books everywhere. There was a brass standard reading lamp over a favourite armchair. Surrounded by trees and a slightly over-run cottage garden, it was sheltered from view at the end of a narrow country road. The faint smell of the river was in the air. Randall had parked under a rose-covered carport and let himself in at the back door, where the controls for the burglar alarm were located. Despite the warmth of the outside air, the thick walls made the interior of the house chilly and Randall opened windows to let the building breathe.
Ten minutes after arriving, havin
g switched on the immersion heater for a bath and put on the kettle, Randall sat on a sofa in front of the broad inglenook fireplace. This was what he needed more than anything. Peace and solitude. Space to breathe. Time to think. The pain in his neck was unpleasant, the skin sore from the chafing of the belt against his throat and an ache at the top of his spine from the pressure of hanging. He closed his eyes at the thought of it. In the kitchen he could hear the kettle switch itself off. He opened his eyes and looked down at his hands, held out before him, palms down. No more trembling. They were firm and still.
He put his palms together and slipped down from the sofa to kneel on the floor, closing his eyes. In his prayers he remembered all the people of Knightly St John down the centuries and asked for their souls to rest in peace. He prayed most strongly for Toni Petrie and asked for forgiveness for his part in her tragedy. He prayed for Albert Fletcher and Molly and Anne and Ralph, who had all helped him towards a new start. Kneeling there in the quiet cottage, he did not know that a word of prayer for Marnie would not have gone amiss. In their haste to be away, he had forgotten to ask Molly why Marnie had not been there that evening.
*
By eleven o’clock that night, Ralph was feeling mesmerised from looking up at the readings on the instrument panel beside Marnie’s bed. His eyelids were drooping. Anne had been in her usual position, half sitting, half lying, resting her head near Marnie’s, talking to her quietly about all their projects, all their plans, threatening her with even more lists when she was better. It was Beth who came up from a break in the canteen and talked sense to both of them, telling them it would soon be impossible for Ralph to drive and Anne would fall asleep where she sat. They agreed to go back to Glebe Farm, while Beth promised to sit with Marnie till midnight and return again as early as she could in the morning.
“Will you be all right to drive?” said Anne as they got in the car.
“As long as you talk to me on the way and don’t let me nod off.”
“It’s my best talent. Hadn’t you noticed?”
“Actually,” said Ralph, “since that shower and the change of clothes, I feel more human, but I’ll certainly be glad to rest my limbs.” They pulled out of the carpark and turned south.
“You know,” said Anne, “I can’t help wondering what made Marnie go out by herself like that, without saying anything to me.”
“You were in your room in the barn, weren’t you? And you were waiting for Frank Day to turn up.”
“Yes, but we were going to talk together. I just can’t understand it. The whole point was to hear what he had to say. It doesn’t make sense.”
“You don’t think he could’ve rung again and asked Marnie to meet him at the church?”
“I suppose he could have, only I don’t think Marnie would’ve gone without saying anything. She was so careful about us not being alone after the business of the gravestone and the photos being stolen.”
“Well, something made her leave in a hurry, perhaps we’ll never know what it was.”
“Don’t talk like that!” The sudden vehemence of Anne’s cry made Ralph jump. The car swerved and he had to struggle to regain control. “Oh Ralph, sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean …”
“No, it’s okay. I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Of course I didn’t. It’s the last thing I …”
“I’m just so tired,” said Anne. “My nerves are all on edge. So are yours, I know. You must be absolutely shattered. I’m really, really sorry.” She reached across and put her hand on his arm.
He placed a hand over hers and held it gently. “I think I’ve got the message. We’re both sorry and we’re both tired and we’re both on the same side. I’ll tell you something else: Marnie could never have a better friend than you.”
“Or you, Ralph. She couldn’t have a better … well, you know.”
“Yes. I know. And we’ll be able to think things through more clearly when we’ve had some sleep.”
“I’ll write a list of points tomorrow, shall I?”
“I’m sure you will.” Ralph laughed quietly. “And the first one will be a question. What did Marnie find that made her go out by herself? When we get near an answer to that, we’ll be starting to get on the right track.”
As good as her word, Anne kept up the conversation all the way back to Knightly St John to help Ralph stay awake. She told him about the design projects they were working on, their plans for the rebuilding of Glebe Farm, her own ambitions to go to college and train as a designer. Ralph enjoyed listening to her. The idea was to keep him from falling asleep, but it also brought him closer to Marnie and her life, of which Anne was such an important part. He felt the comfort of a child hearing a favourite story. If only it could have a happy ending.
When they pulled into the yard at Glebe Farm the security lights came on. Anne pulled the torch out of her bag.
“Shall we check Sally Ann?” she said. “I expect Dolly will want feeding. I hope she doesn’t feel neglected.” Ralph locked the car and they set off through the spinney. True to form, Dolly was sitting on the cratch as they approached and trotted along the roof of the boat, warbling a greeting without reproach, but laced with more than a hint that a night-cap saucer of milk would be acceptable. In the galley, Anne duly obliged and added some cat biscuits for good measure. Purring filled the cabin. “Marnie used to say …” Anne corrected herself. “Marnie says, that’s her favourite sound of all. Would you like something, Ralph?” She put a finger on the top of the brandy bottle that was standing on the work-surface.
“For medicinal purposes, perhaps?” he said. Anne brought out a brandy goblet from the cupboard and poured a glass. She gave herself a mineral water and they sat at the table.
“Plan for tomorrow?” said Anne.
“Back to the hospital first thing. Also, I want to talk to Frank Day at some point. Is there anything you have to see to here?”
“I’ll need to talk to the bank about paying the builders. There’s a payment due this week. Could you help me with that, Ralph? I think the bank manager will pay more attention to you.”
“Of course.”
They were both aware of their fatigue. Anne was propping up her chin. She yawned and blinked her eyes. “I’m not sure I want to go back to the barn tonight,” she said.
“No,” said Ralph. “Is it locked up?” Anne nodded. “Would you like first go in the bathroom?” She nodded again and stood up wearily. In minutes she emerged wearing the white bath robe.
“I’m not a very good hostess,” she said drowsily. “I ought to be looking after you.”
“Don’t worry. You’re doing well.”
Anne sat on the bed and ran a brush over her short hair. Ralph got up and took the brush from her. He reached down and swung her feet up onto the duvet, pulling it over her as he had done before. He kissed her on the forehead. She smiled and was already asleep as he turned back to the saloon.
*
“Are you sure you’ve had enough sleep?” said Anne. Ralph was folding up the camp bed in the saloon. It was the most primitive device he had ever seen.
“This,” he said, “is more luxurious than the Savoy, the Ritz and the Dorchester put together. I can’t remember the last time I slept for eight hours in one go.”
“Oh good. I’ll just ring the hospital and then I’ll make some breakfast.” Ralph took his turn in the heads, quickly showering under the lukewarm-hot-cold shower. Anne set the table outside so that he had space to dress.
“Ralph!” she shouted from the aft deck. “Ralph! Guess what! She’s awake! She’s come round!” Ralph dashed out to find Anne perched on the stern rail, gasping for breath like a marathon runner, her cheeks flushed. Weakly she handed him the phone. Worried that she might faint, he put an arm around her.
“Hallo. This is Ralph Lombard. Is she all right?”
It was the Australian nurse who replied. “On the mend, Dr Lombard. We reduced the sedation early this morning and she began t
o regain consciousness about two hours ago. We’re going to do some more X-rays. I must stress, she’s not out of danger yet, but things are looking better than before.”
“Is she in pain?”
“I’m afraid she is at the moment, but we can do something about that as soon as our tests are completed.”
“Can we see her?”
“Of course, but not just yet. We’ve got a lot to do.”
“And you don’t want us in the way.” Ralph made reassuring gestures to Anne. “When would you suggest?”
“If you could leave it until about noon, that would help a lot.” Ralph thanked her and gave the news to Anne.
“You’ve gone pink,” he said.
“You’ve gone white.” They stood and hugged each other.
Ralph had not taken his first sip of coffee before the list of the day was in progress. Between noting down the items, Anne bit her lip, smiled, sighed and shook her head. Her world was starting to come together again. After toast and coffee they set about their tasks, anxious to fill every minute so that time passed quickly. Anne prepared a letter on the word-processor explaining about Marnie to send to all their friends and colleagues. Ralph had just finished a call to his college when the phone rang in his hand.
“Who is this, please?” The voice was hesitant, subdued.
“Ralph Lombard. I’m a friend of Marnie. And you?”
“It’s Frank Day. I wanted to ask Anne if there was any news about Marnie.”
“She’s getting better, Mr Day. She’s conscious. We’re hoping things will be all right.”
There was a pause at the other end of the line. “Thank God.”
“Are you okay?” said Ralph. “You sound fatigued. I was rather hoping to talk to you.”
“I haven’t slept.” His voice was almost a whisper. “I’ve been worrying all night in the police station. They’ve just let me go. I’m so relieved.”
“We all are.”
“I must tell you, I had nothing to do with what happened to Marnie, you know.”
“You didn’t see anyone there, anything suspicious?”
“I’ve told the police everything I know. I just ran out to phone for help. My mobile was dead, so I went to the call-box. When I got back there were people coming from the pub. I suppose I panicked.”