Apparently Ashton did not get even that relief because after tea he retired to his study, pleading that he had to attend to paperwork. I commented that Penny had complained of the same problem, and he agreed that putting unnecessary words on paper was the besetting sin of the twentieth century. As he walked away I reflected that Ashton could not have got where he was by idling his time away playing tennis and croquet.
And so the weekend drifted by until it was nearly time for me to leave. It was a pleasant summer Sunday evening. Gillian had gone to church but was expected back at any moment; she was the religious member of the family-neither Ashton nor Penny showed any interest in received religion. Ashton, Penny and I were sitting in lawn chairs arguing a particularly knotty point in scientific ethics which had arisen out of an article in the morning newspaper. Rather, it was Penny and her father doing the arguing; I was contemplating how to get her alone so I could propose to her. Somehow we had never been alone that weekend.
Penny was becoming a little heated when we heard a piercing scream and then another. The three of us froze, Penny in mid-sentence, and Ashton said sharply, 'What the devil was that?'
A third scream came. It was nearer this time and seemed to be coming from the other side of the house. By this time we were on our feet and moving, but then Gillian came into sight, stumbling around the corner of the house, her hands to her face. She screamed again, a bubbling, wordless screech, and collapsed on the lawn.
Ashton got to her first. He bent over her and tried to pull her hands from her face, but Gillian resisted him with all her strength. 'What's the matter?' he yelled, but all he got was a shuddering moan.
Penny said quickly, 'Let me,' and gently pulled him away. She bent over Gillian who was now lying on her side curled in a foetal position, her hands still at her face with the fingers extended like claws. The screams had stopped and were replaced by an extended moaning, and once she said, 'My eyes! Oh, my eyes!'
Penny forced her hand to Gillian's face and touched it with her forefinger, rubbing gently. She frowned and put the tip of her finger to her nose, then hastily wiped it on the grass. She turned to her father. 'Take her into the house quickly-into the kitchen.'
She stood up and whirled towards me in one smooth motion. 'Ring for an ambulance. Tell them it's an acid burn.'
Ashton had already scooped up Gillian in his arms as I ran to the house, brushing past Benson as I entered the hall. I picked up the telephone and rang 999 and then watched Ashton carry his daughter through a doorway I had never entered, with Penny close behind him.
A voice said in my ear, 'Emergency services.'
'Ambulance.'
There was a click and another voice said immediately, 'Ambulance service.' I gave him the address and the telephone number. 'And your name, sir?'
'Malcolm Jaggard. It's a bad facial acid burn.'
'Right, sir; we'll be as quick as we can.'
As I put down the phone I was aware that Benson was staring at me with a startled expression. Abruptly he turned on his heel and walked out of the house. I opened the door to the kitchen and saw Gillian stretched on a table with Penny applying something to her face. Her legs were kicking convulsively and she was still moaning. Ashton was standing by and I have never seen on any man's face such an expression of helpless rage. There wasn't much I could do there and I'd only be in the way so I closed the door gently.
Looking through the big window at the far end of the hall, I saw Benson walking along the drive. He stopped and bent down, looking at something not on the drive but on the wide grass verge. I went out to join him and saw what had attracted his attention; a car had turned there, driving on the grass, and it had done so at speed because the immaculate lawn had been chewed up and the wheels had gouged right down to the soil.
Benson said in his unexpectedly gentle voice, 'As I see it, sir, the car came into the grounds and was parked about there, facing the house. When Miss Gillian walked up someone threw acid in her face here.' He pointed to where a few blades of grass were already turning brown. 'Then the car turned on the grass and drove away.'
'But you didn't see it.'
'No, sir.'
I bent and looked at the wheel marks. 'I think this should be protected until the police get here.'
Benson thought for a moment. 'The gardener made some hurdles for the new paddock. I'll get those.'
'That should do it,' I agreed.
I helped him bring them and we covered the marks. I straightened as I heard the faint hee-haw of an ambulance, becoming louder as it approached. That was quick-under six minutes. I walked back to the house and rang 999 again.
'Emergency services.'
'The police, please.'
Click. 'Police here.'
'I want to report a criminal assault.'
CHAPTER THREE
They got Gillian into the ambulance very quickly. Penny used her authority as a doctor and went into the ambulance with her, while Ashton followed in a car. I judged he was in no condition to drive and was pleased to see Benson behind the wheel when he left.
Before he went I took him on one side. 'I think you ought to know I've sent for the police.'
He turned a ravaged face towards me and blinked stupidly. 'What's that?' He seemed to have aged ten years in a quarter of an hour.
I repeated what I'd said, and added, 'They'll probably come while you're still at the hospital. I can tell them what they need to know. Don't worry about it. I'll stay here until you get back.'
'Thanks, Malcolm.'
I watched them drive away and then I was alone in the house. The maid lived in, but Sunday was her day off, and now Benson had gone there was no one in the house but me. I went into the living room, poured myself a drink and lit a cigarette, and sat down to think of just what the hell had happened.
Nothing made sense. Gillian Ashton was a plain, ordinary woman who lived a placid and unadventurous life. She was a homebody who one day might marry an equally unadventurous man who liked his home comforts. Acid-throwing wasn't in that picture; it was something that might happen in Soho or the murkier recesses of the East End of London-it was incongruous in the Buckinghamshire countryside.
I thought about it for a long time and got nowhere. Presently I heard a car drive up and a few minutes later I was talking to a couple of uniformed policemen. I couldn't tell them much; I knew little about Gillian and not much more about Ashton and, although the policemen were polite, I sensed an increasing dissatisfaction. I showed them the tracks and one of them stayed to guard them while the other used his car radio. When I looked from the window a few minutes later I saw he had moved the police car so he could survey the back of the house.
Twenty minutes later a bigger police car arrived in the person of a plain clothes man. He talked for a while with the constable in the car, then walked towards the house and I opened the door at his knock. 'Detective-Inspector Honnister,' he said briskly. 'Are you Mr. Jaggard?'
'That's right. Won't you come in?'
He walked into the hall and stood looking around. As I closed the door he swung on me. 'Are you alone in the house?'
The constable had been punctilious about his 'sirs' but not Honnister. I said, 'Inspector, I'm going to show you something which I shouldn't but which, in all fairness to yourself, I think you ought to see. I'm quite aware my answers didn't satisfy your constable. I'm alone in Ashton's house, I admit to knowing hardly anything about the Ashtons, and he thinks I might run away with the spoons.'
Honnister's eyes crinkled. 'From the look of it there's a lot more to run away with here than spoons. What have you to show me?'
'This.' I dug the card out of the pocket which my tailor builds into all my jackets and gave it to him.
Honnister's eyebrows rose as he looked at it. 'We don't get many of these,' he commented. 'This is only the third I've seen.' He flicked at the plastic with his thumbnail as he compared me with the photograph. 'You realize I'll have to test the authenticity of this.'
'Of co
urse. I'm only showing it to you so you don't waste time on me. You can use this telephone or the one in Ashton's study.'
'Will I get an answer this time on Sunday?'
I smiled. 'We're like the police, Inspector; we never close.'
I showed him into the study and it didn't take long. He came out within five minutes and gave me back the card. 'Well, Mr. Jaggard; got any notions on this?'
I shook my head. 'It beats me. I'm not here in a professional capacity, if that's what you mean.' From his shrewd glance I could see he didn't believe me, so I told of my relationship with the Ashtons and all I knew of the attack on Gillian which wasn't much.
He said wryly, 'This is one we'll have to do the hard way, then-starting with those tracks. Thank you for your co-operation, Mr. Jaggard. I'd better be getting on with it.'
I went with him to the door. 'One thing, Inspector; you never saw that card.'
He nodded abruptly and left.
Ashton and Penny came back more than two hours later. Penny looked as tired as she had the previous morning, but Ashton had recovered some of his colour and springiness. 'Good of you to stay, Malcolm,' he said. 'Stay a little longer-I want to talk to you. Not now, but later.' His voice was brusque and he spoke with authority; what he had issued was not a request but an order. He strode across the 'hall and went into the study. The door slammed behind him.
I turned to Penny. 'How's Gillian?'
'Not very good,' she said sombrely. 'It was strong acid, undiluted. Who would do such a barbarous thing?'
'That's what the police want to know.' I told her something of my conversation with Honnister. 'He thinks your father might know something about this. Does he have any enemies?'
'Daddy!' She frowned. 'He's very strong-minded and single-minded, and people like that don't go through life without treading on a few toes. But I can't think he'd make the kind of enemy who would throw acid into his daughter's face.'
Somehow I couldn't, either. God knows some funny things go on in the economic and industrial jungles, but they rarely include acts of gratuitous violence. I turned as Benson came out of the kitchen carrying a tray on which were a jug of water, an unopened bottle of whisky and two glasses. I watched him go into the study then said, 'What about Gillian?'
Penny stared at me. 'Gillian!' She shook her head in disbelief. 'You're not suggesting Gillian could make that kind of enemy? It's preposterous.'
It was certainly unlikely but not as impossible as Penny thought. Quiet homebodies have been known to lead exotic and secret lives, and I wondered if Gillian had done anything else on her shopping trips into Marlow besides buying the odd pound of tea. But I said tactfully, 'Yes, it's unlikely.'
As I helped Penny get together a scratch meal she said, 'I tried to neutralize the acid with a soda solution, and in the ambulance they had better stuff than that. But she's in the Intensive Care unit at the hospital.'
We had rather an uncomfortable meal, just the two of us because Ashton wouldn't come out of the study, saying he wasn't hungry. An hour later, when I was wondering if he'd forgotten I was there, Benson came into the room. 'Mr. Ashton would like to see you, sir.'
'Thank you.' I made my excuses to Penny and went into the study. Ashton was sitting behind a large desk but rose as I entered. I said, 'I can't tell you how sorry I am that this awful thing should have happened.'
He nodded. 'I know, Malcolm.' His hand grasped the whiskey bottle which I noted was now only half full. He glanced at the tray, and said, 'Be a good chap and get yourself a clean glass.'
'I'd rather not drink any more this evening. I still have to drive back to town.'
He put down the bottle gently and came from behind the desk. 'Sit down,' he said, and thus began one of the weirdest interviews of my life. He paused for a moment. 'How are things with you and Penny?'
I looked at him consideringly. 'Are you asking if my intentions are honourable?'
"More or less. Have you slept with her yet?'
That was direct enough. 'No.' I grinned at him. 'You brought her up too well.'
He grunted. 'Well, what are your intentions-if any?'
'I thought it might be a good idea if I asked her to marry me.'
He didn't seemed displeased at that. 'And have you?'
'Not yet.'
He rubbed the side of his jaw reflectively. 'This job of yours-what sort of income do you make out of it?'
That was a fair question if I was going to marry his daughter. 'Last year it was a fraction over?8000; this year will be better.' Aware that a man like Ashton would regard that as chickenfeed I added, 'And I have private investments which bring in a further?11,000.'
He raised his eyebrows. 'You still work with a private income?'
'That?11,000 is before tax,' I said wryly, and shrugged. 'And a man must do something with his life.'
'How old are you?'
'Thirty-four.'
He leaned back in his chair and said musingly, '?8000 year isn't bad-so far. Any prospects of advancement in the firm?'
'I'm bucking for it.'
He then asked me a couple of questions which were a damned sight more personal than digging into my finances but, again, in the circumstances they were fair and my answers seemed to satisfy him.
He was silent for a while, then he said, 'You could do better by changing your job. I have an opening which is ideal for a man like yourself. Initially you'd have to spend at least one year in Australia getting things off the ground, but that wouldn't hurt a couple of youngsters like you and Penny. The only trouble is that it must be now-almost immediately.'
He was going too fast for me. 'Hold on a moment,' I protested. 'I don't even know if she'll marry me.'
'She will,' he said positively. 'I know my daughter.'
He evidently knew her better than I did because I wasn't nearly so certain. 'Even so,' I said. 'There's Penny to consider. Her work is important to her. I can't see her throwing it up and going to Australia for a year just like that. And that's apart from anything I might think about the advisability of making a change.'
'She could take a sabbatical. Scientists do that all the time.'
'Maybe. Frankly, I'd need to know a lot more about it before making a decision.'
For the first time Ashton showed annoyance. He managed to choke it down and disguise it, but it was there. He thought for a moment, then said in conciliatory tones, 'Well, a decision on that might wait a month. I think you'd better pop the question, Malcolm. I can fix a special licence and you can get married towards the end of the week.' He tried to smile genially but the smile got nowhere near his eyes which still had a hurt look in them. 'I'll give you a house for a dowry-somewhere in the South Midlands, North of London.'
It was a time for plain speaking. 'I think you're going a bit too fast. I don't see the necessity for a special licence. In fact, it's my guess that Penny wouldn't hear of it, even if she does agree to marry me. I rather think she'd like to have Gillian at the wedding.'
Ashton's face crumpled and he seemed about to lose what little composure he had. I said evenly, 'It was always in my mind to buy a house when I married. Your offer of a house generous, but I think the kind of house it should be-and where it should be-are matters for Penny and me to decide between us.'
He stood up, walked to the desk, and poured himself a drink. With his back to me he said indistinctly, 'You're right, of course. I shouldn't interfere. But will you ask her to marry you-now?'
'Now! Tonight?'
'Yes.'
I stood up. 'Under the circumstances I consider that entirely inappropriate, and I won't do it. Now, if you'll forgive me, I have to go back to town.'
He neither turned nor made an answer. I left him there and closed the study door quietly behind me. I was at a loss to understand his driving insistence that Penny and I should marry quickly. That, and the offer of the job in Australia, had me worried. If this was the way he engaged his staff, not to mention picking a son-in-law, I was surprised how he'd got to where he w
as.
Penny was telephoning when I entered the hall. She re-placed the receiver and said, 'I've been talking to the hospital; they say she's resting easier.'
'Good! I'll be back tomorrow evening and we'll go to see her. It might make her feel better to have someone else around, even a comparative stranger like me.'
'I don't know if that's a good idea,' said Penny, doubtfully. 'She might be… well, self-conscious about her appearance.'
'I'll come anyway and we can decide then. I have to go now-it's late.' She saw me to my car and I kissed her and left, wondering what kind of bee was buzzing in Ashton's bonnet.
CHAPTER FOUR
Next morning, when I walked into the office I shared with Larry Godwin, he looked up from the Czechoslovakian trade magazine he was reading and said, 'Harrison wants to see you.' Harrison was our immediate boss.
'Okay.' I walked straight out again and into Harrison's office, sat in the chair before the desk, and said, 'Morning, Joe. Larry said you wanted to see me.'
Harrison was a bit of a stuffed shirt, very keen on formality, protocol and the line of authority. He didn't like me calling him Joe, so I always did it just to needle him. He said stiffly, 'On checking the weekend telephone log I found you had disclosed yourself to a police officer. Why?'
'I was at a house party over the weekend. There was a nasty incident-one of the daughters of the house had acid thrown in her face. She was taken to hospital and, when the police pitched up, I was alone in the house and they started to get off on the wrong foot. I didn't want them wasting time on me, so I disclosed myself to the officer in charge.'
He shook his head disapprovingly and tried to hold me in what he supposed to be an eagle-like stare. 'His name?'
'Detective-Inspector Honnister. You'll find him at the cop-shop in Marlow.' Harrison scribbled in his desk book, and I leaned forward. 'What's the matter, Joe? We're supposed to co-operate with the police.'
The Enemy Page 2