by Leo McNeir
“How could I? I never saw him again, except to identify his body.”
“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise. I just wondered if it might've had something to do with your peerage, perhaps.”
“The peerage? Why should it? That kind of thing's handled by the PM’s office in Downing Street several weeks in advance.”
“Well, it must have been something important.”
“I suppose I'll never know.”
*
In the Houses of Parliament it is relatively easy for a visitor to move around the building, provided they are heading towards an exit. Unaccompanied movement in any other direction is invariably questioned by the police officers who are stationed at every turning point. So it was that Marnie was able to drive the hired Ford Escort out of the car park without challenge.
They had separated on better terms than when they had met that day. Malcolm had accompanied her down through the labyrinth of passageways and corridors leading to the escalator off Star Chamber Court. They had taken a lift to go down two more floors, and it had surprised her to learn that there were five floors of underground car park. He had kissed her lightly on the cheek like an old friend.
“Just follow the arrows to the surface, Marnie. Go round the courtyard and through Carriage Gate. You'll come out in Parliament Square.”
“Good. You will give that note to the police, won't you?”
Malcolm patted his coat pocket. “I'll see them after lunch. I hope to God we can get this wretched business sorted out once and for all.”
“I wonder if we'll ever know the truth,” said Marnie.
“Keep in touch. I'll let you know what I find out. How do I contact you?”
“I'm thinking of going home tomorrow. There's no reason to stay in London.”
Marnie drove up to the surface, leaving the car park by the steep ramp that brought her out beside the huge Christmas tree still standing in New Palace Yard. It seemed a long time since she had anything to celebrate. She drove across town to Little Venice and found one of the long-term parking spaces. It was opposite where she had parked the Rover on the day of the explosion. The street had been tidied, but there were scorch marks and blast damage on the trees and the front wall of the nearest house was charred black. When she shivered while locking the Escort, it was not just because of the chill in the air.
Subterfuge was becoming second nature to her now, and she quickly walked along to the tube, went down the stairs into the station, crossed the booking hall and re-appeared up the stairs at the other exit on the far side of the road. A brisk walk led her to the pool where she went down to the waterside and hurried round the path over the bridge and back up to meet the road further along. Three minutes later she was opening the door into her refuge. There was no disturbance on Rumpole.
Marnie kept her coat on while she waited for the heating to warm up the cabin. She put the kettle on and made a sandwich. There was a call to make. Anne answered straight away.
“Everything all right?”
“Fine. Listen, I don't want to talk for long, but I've just seen Malcolm. I think we've found something that at least corroborates his story. I'll explain when I see you.”
“Okay. Marnie, I've got some news for you. I've spoken to Ralph this morning.”
“How did you do that? I thought we didn't know where he was.”
“After we spoke last night I had an idea. I rang our office and altered the message on the answerphone. I said for urgent matters to ring my number here. He phoned at mid-day. It must have been breakfast time in America. I didn't tell him about your car. I wasn't sure what to say about that, but I said you were down in London and wanted to contact him. He gave me his hotel number. He's there all morning, so he's there now.” Anne gave her the number.
“You're a genius. I think you'll go far, starting with Knightly St John.”
“When are we going?”
“Tomorrow. I've got a hire car.”
“Okay. I'll be ready and waiting.”
“Probably a good idea to alter the answerphone message to the usual wording.”
“I did that after Ralph phoned.”
“I should've known.”
Marnie got through to Ralph without difficulty. There was concern in his voice.
“Is everything all right, Marnie? Anne said she couldn't give me a number where I could reach you. Where are you?”
“I've borrowed a friend's place in London, but we're going back to Knightly tomorrow.”
“So, how are things?”
“Well, they have been better. The edited highlights are that opinions vary as to whether Tim Edmonds was murdered or had a ghastly accident, somebody's tried to kill me –”
“Kill you?”
“Yes. My car was blown up by a bomb.”
“What? My God! Were you hurt?”
“No. Luckily I was in a pub having lunch with Malcolm Grant when it went off.”
“That's dreadful, Marnie. I must come back at once.”
“You can't, Ralph. Look, I'm all right. Just finish your work. You can't leave now.”
“Are the police protecting you?”
“I think they still have me down as a suspect.”
“You're joking.”
“No. I'm in hiding.”
“From the police?”
“No. From everybody else. But I've had enough of this and I'm getting out of London. The bad news is that if the insurance company can prove it was a terrorist bomb, they won't have to pay up for the car.”
“Act of war?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, at least you weren't injured or … Look, Marnie, I'm going to alter my schedule here and come back. Can I ring you somewhere?” Marnie gave him the new mobile number. “What happened to the old one?”
“That's a long story, several hundred miles long, in fact.”
One last call. Marnie rang Roger and told him her plans. She mentioned the possible smell of alcohol.
“You didn't tell this to the police when they took your statement?”
Marnie sighed. “No. I wasn't sure. But now I think of it, I'm fairly certain there was a smell other than just diesel fumes.”
“It won't do any harm to mention it. Explain it as an afterthought that's just come back to you. Say you told me and I advised you to raise it with them. It might be important if his lungs were full of water.”
“Will do. Roger, I can't thank you enough for all your help. Having a safe haven here's been a lifeline to me. I'm so grateful to you.”
“I'm in no hurry to have Rumpole back just yet, you know. Why don't we leave her there in case you have to pop down again?”
“What about you?”
“Up to my eyes in work at the moment. Not a chance of using the boat. Anyway, it's not the weather for boating. Keep the keys with you, Marnie. Use her any time. You never know.”
“Are you sure, Roger? You're not just making it up?”
“Trust me. I'm a lawyer.”
“I trust you all right, but I don't believe a word you say!”
Marnie was surprised to find she was hungry and enjoyed the sandwich and coffee in the now warm cabin. While she ate, she made a list of things to do the next day and switched on the radio for the hourly news bulletin. There was a report about the bombing of her car.
“Scotland Yard has confirmed that the bomb that destroyed a car in Little Venice, central London, yesterday was not of the kind used by any of the terrorist groups, and no advance warning had been given. A spokesman stated that this was a much simpler device and had been attached under the car's fuel tank to cause the maximum damage.”
So not terrorists, thought Marnie. At least that makes the insurance situation easier. She was just thinking of clouds and silver linings when the implications of the news dawned on her.
*
“Can I speak to Inspector Bruere, please?” Marnie waited to be transferred.
“This is Sergeant Wallace, Mrs Walker. Chief
Inspector Bruere's out. Do you want to leave a message?”
Marnie explained about the alcohol. She also told Wallace about the note they had found in Malcolm's office. He promised to pass on the information, and was writing the message on his pad when Bruere walked in.
“Marnie Walker's just been on. It seems she thinks she smelled alcohol on Edmonds when she found his body. Just an afterthought, she says. And guess what? She and Grant found the note from Edmonds arranging the meeting for the evening of the murder.”
“I know. I've just seen Grant, and I've got the note.” He pulled out a transparent envelope. “Very convenient.”
“Two new items,” said Wallace. “But they don't add up to much. We knew about the alcohol from the autopsy, and we knew Edmonds was going round to see Grant. What does it prove?”
“It shows that those two are talking to each other. For a woman who doesn't know any MPs, Marnie Walker's surprisingly well connected.”
*
Marnie decided to have an early night. She had a busy day ahead. It was while she was tossing a salad that the mobile rang.
“Ralph. Great to hear from you. How are things?”
“Lunch break here. I'm trying to wrap things up. What about you?”
“Supper time here. I've just been packing things up, ready for an early start.”
“Any news or progress?”
“All quiet at present. On the news I heard that the police are saying the bomb that blew up my car wasn't the sort used by terrorists.”
“Not terrorists.”
“No.” Marnie knew what Ralph was thinking. “Stupidly, I was quite pleased at first. Then reality took over.”
“You were pleased?”
“The bad news could've been that some terrorist nutters picked on my car by chance. Bad news for my insurance policy. The good news could be that some hired assassin was trying to kill me, so my insurance cover will pay for the next car for him to blow up.”
“Oh, Marnie, this is a mess. Don't you think you should go to the police for protection?”
“Who do you think's top of my list of suspects? No, only joking. But I'm certainly not popular with them at the moment. Was I ever? Talking of the police, Ralph, did you know the Provos?”
“The provisional IRA? Marnie, my subject is economics.”
“No, the Provos in Amsterdam, back in the 60s and 70s.”
“Yes, of course. But I thought we were talking about terrorists. Why do you ask?”
“Someone was talking about radicals the other day, and I wondered if you'd had contact with them.”
“I wrote a book about the Provos and other radical groups. And several articles in journals. It all followed on from my doctorate – economic impact on Europe of the French Revolutions of 1789, 1830 and 1848. I wanted to look at upheavals in modern times.”
“Are you still in touch with them?”
“Not really. They don't interest me much professionally these days. I still see Piet Bax and Henrik de Jong at conferences, of course. I'm not sure why you think this might be relevant.”
“There's speculation about who could be planting bombs when there's supposed to be a cease-fire.”
“Well, it certainly wouldn't be the Provos of Amsterdam. Violence was never their scene. And most of them are respectable solicitors or media tycoons these days.”
“It was just a thought.”
“I don’t see how it could have anything to do with what’s happening around you, Marnie. Just keep your head down below the parapet. I'll be back as soon as I can.”
14
Thursday 5 January
It was a strange drive the next morning back to Knightly St John. The usual easy flow of conversation was missing. The usual sense of anticipation as they returned home was buried somewhere below the surface. Silence filled the car for miles, as Anne looked out of the window at the fields and trees under an overcast sky, and Marnie concentrated on the road. Everything was different now. Their way of life seemed to have been poured away. Everything they had worked to create had been thrown out. The anticipation of returning home had been replaced by uncertainty about what they would find there. The smallest details of their lives had been changed so that they felt like strangers in their own world.
Anne reached into the glove box and took out the mobile phone. It was the first time she had handled the new one, and she had to study the layout to make it work. “Where’s the memory on this, Marnie? I want to let Jill and Alex know we’re on our way.”
Marnie replied vaguely, “Oh, I’m not sure. I haven’t put the numbers in.” Anne put the phone back in the glove box and turned her head to gaze across the empty fields. She flipped open the road atlas on her lap and looked down at the familiar route.
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Marnie.
“Mm?”
“But it will be the same again one day. Once we’ve put all this behind us.”
Anne nodded slowly, as if she almost believed it. “I don’t want anything to –”
“Nothing is going to spoil it. I won’t let it. You know, Anne, I’m sick of things coming in and taking over our lives. I moved up here – we moved up here – to make a fresh start and do our own thing. Up to now it’s been great.”
“Apart from you getting murdered, almost.”
“Yes. That small detail aside. Well, I’m damn well not going to let other people and their horrible lives get in the way of our happiness. And our success. This is our time and we’re going to do things our way.”
Anne smiled for the first time that day. “Yes.” Her voice was choked so that the word scarcely came out. Marnie glanced at her friend. Anne was blinking, her eyes moist. She cleared her throat. “I’m so glad you said that, Marnie. I was beginning to think –”
“No. We have to press on and get things back to normal.”
“But what about Tim Edmonds and all that?”
“I don’t give a damn about him or any of them.” Even Marnie was surprised at the venom in her own voice.
“Right,” said Anne. “Right.”
“Well, of course, I do really. I mean, I’m sorry he died. You can’t hold that against someone. I know that. But I didn’t want to get mixed up in it. I didn’t ask to get involved.”
“It’s a bit difficult to get out of it, though, isn’t it?” Anne said quietly.
When they reached the village and drove down the High Street, it looked normal enough. Lights were on in the shop, but they drove past. Anne had bought some basic provisions that were stacked in a box on the back seat. Lights were visible in the school, where someone was getting ready for the start of the new term on Monday. Life was going on behind the scenes.
Marnie turned off the road through the gates at the top of the field track, and at that moment, for both of them, it felt like coming home. Marnie smiled quickly at Anne and reached sideways to touch her hand. Anne muttered something, but Marnie could not make out what it was because there was a rushing sound in her ears. She took a deep breath and felt free for the first time in days.
The car rolled to a halt beside the office barn. The farm buildings shone faintly in the cold wintry light. This was her place, their place. Marnie got out of the car and looked around at the complex of farmhouse, cottages and barns that seemed to welcome them from every stone, timber and slate. Anne climbed out and reached into the back for the box of groceries. Marnie turned to speak to her as she re-appeared on the other side of the car. Anne’s expression, looking beyond Marnie, stopped her before she uttered a sound. Marnie turned and saw Jill Burton standing in the doorway of cottage number one. If she was pleased to see them, it did not show in her face.
Marnie watched with misgivings as Jill came across the cobbled farmyard towards her. “Morning, Jill. How are things?”
“Hallo, Marnie. Morning, Anne. Well, it’s all a bit strange actually.”
“Let’s go into the office and you can tell us about it. It’s too cold to stay out here.” Marnie too
k Jill by the arm and guided her inside. Anne opened the shutters and put the kettle on while Marnie sat Jill in a chair. She perched on the corner of her desk. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”
Jill looked uncomfortable. “First of all, Dolly seems to have gone missing. We haven’t seen her for the last two days. I fed her Tuesday morning, as usual, and she went out on her rounds. You know she likes to go in the spinney. Usually we don’t see her for hours and then she appears for her next meal, like she had a wristwatch.”
“And you haven’t seen her since then.”
“No. I’ve hunted high and low in the spinney. Alex too. We went to the boats, up the track, we checked the road. No sign of her anywhere. She’s not caught up a tree. You know what she’s like for climbing. We wondered if she could’ve got inside one of the other buildings and got trapped somehow, but they’re all locked up and there’s no way in that we could see. I am sorry.”
“Don’t worry, Jill. It’s not your fault. We’ll have a think.”
“And then there’s the other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know quite how to put it.” Jill searched for the words she needed. Marnie waited. “While we were out looking for Dolly, I thought someone was out there.”
“Out where?”
“Just out there, around the farm. You could see where the undergrowth had been trodden down, as if someone had been moving about.”
“An animal perhaps?” Marnie said, wondering at the same time about what might have happened to Dolly. “A stray dog, a fox?”
“I showed Alex, and he said there were footprints in the ground. It’s not as hard under plants as in the open. I know you’ll think I’m being silly, but once or twice I’ve had the feeling that there was someone near the farm.”
“Just these past few days?”
“Yes. While we’ve been out searching for Dolly.” Jill shook her head. “It’s probably a daft idea, but Alex wondered if there might’ve been a tramp or someone like that, a vagrant, you know, looking for shelter. It’s been bitterly cold the past few nights. Alex has been out checking the windows and doors on the farm and the cottages. We’ve looked in the barns, but there’s been no sign of anyone trying to break in. We’ve checked at night and then again first thing in the morning. To tell you the truth, Marnie, it’s made me feel really nervous. I’m glad you and Anne are back.”