Paws for Alarm

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Paws for Alarm Page 14

by Marian Babson


  ‘I think Richard has enough problems without our adding to them.’ Arnold had a point there, but I was in too bad a mood to concede it.

  ‘We’ve all got problems.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Arnold’s mind flew to his own problem. ‘I wanted to spend the day going through my research.’ He looked yearningly towards the study. ‘Only now we’ve got to try to sort out this mess.’ His own mood was visibly worsening and I watched him with gloomy satisfaction.

  There were louder scuffling noises from the hall. Arnold was diverted.

  ‘Was that the kids?’ he asked. ‘Don’t they want to come in?’

  ‘Not if they’re smart –’ I raised my voice. ‘If they’re smart, they’ll run away from home.’

  ‘Aw, honey, don’t be like that. It was just a childish escapade.’

  ‘Oh, yes. And do you have any idea how much that childish escapade is likely to cost us?’

  ‘Good morning, Dad ...’ The twins sidled into the kitchen, wearing their best hangdog expressions. ‘Good morning, Mom ...’

  ‘What’s good about it?’ I eyed them coldly, wondering what the penalty was for infanticide over here. No, make that justifiable homicide.

  ‘We’re sorry, Mom,’ Donna said. She exchanged glances with her twin and, as though on cue, they both hunched their shoulders and looked pathetic. ‘We’re awfully sorry.’

  We didn’t –’ Donald offered the formula that had often led to forgiveness before. Unfortunately for him, it was the wrong thing to say this time. ‘We didn’t mean it.’

  ‘You didn’t mean it? You didn’t mean it? How can you tear down half a wall – and NOT MEAN IT?’

  “Take it easy, honey,’ Arnold soothed. The twins backed away from my fury and began to cry.

  ‘How can I take it easy? It’s all right for you to talk – but I’m the one who’s going to have to write to Rosemary Blake and try to explain. What can I say to that poor wretched woman? She’s lost her husband – and now we’ve torn her home to pieces!’

  ‘Honey –’

  ‘Don’t Honey me!’ I sobbed. ‘I can’t do it. I can’t write one more grovelling letter apologizing for having whelped a couple of lousy vandals instead of human beings!’

  ‘It was Perry’s idea,’ Donald whined defensively. ‘We were watching The Wooden Horse and he said we could make an escape tunnel of our own. Only through the wall, instead of underground. Angela did a lot of digging, too.’

  ‘Oh, great, great! That explains everything! And, if they’d wanted to blow up Buckingham Palace because they saw somebody do it on television, would you have gone along with that, too?’

  ‘We didn’t mean –’ Donna began, then abruptly remembered that that was a dangerous plea to cop. ‘We’re sorry,’ she snivelled. ‘We – we’ll pay for it. You can deduct it from our allowance.’

  ‘You should live so long!’ The kitchen was beginning to tilt alarmingly. I took a firm grip on the edge of the table.

  ‘Honey –’ Arnold said warningly.

  ‘You’re right about one thing,’ I told them. ‘It’s going to be a long time before you see your allowance again. And it will be a cold day in hell before you watch any more television. Arnold, go upstairs and unplug their set! Bring it down here and throw it in the study for the time being.’

  ‘No –’ Donna squealed. I was hitting them where it really hurt. ‘Please, Mom, we’ll be good –’

  ‘Mom! Hey, Mom –’ Donald protested. ‘It wasn’t our fault – not all of it!’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I’m going to have an in-depth conversation with Lania this afternoon. Angela and Peregrine aren’t going to be watching television for a long time, either. It’s going to be back to tiddlywinks for the lot of you!’

  I was just barely conscious of their cries of anguish as the world went black.

  When I came to, I was lying on the sofa in the study. The world slowly moved back into focus. Arnold was sitting in the wing chair, reading a newspaper. Water dripped from the hedge outside and beat against the window panes. I shifted position and moaned.

  ‘Feeling better, honey?’ Arnold laid aside his paper and struggled out of his chair. ‘Sorry we had to put you in here, but I couldn’t carry you up to bed. Even with the twins helping, I couldn’t manage – and I didn’t think you’d want me to go next door for help.’

  ‘You were so right.’ I heaved myself up on one elbow and squinted towards the windows. The quality of light seemed not to have changed at all. What time is it?’

  ‘Nearly lunch time,’ Arnold said promptly. ‘You went from fainting to sleeping with barely a murmur, so we didn’t disturb you. Donna’s peeling the potatoes now and Donald’s scraping carrots. The kids have been great, honey. Very supportive, all morning.’

  ‘I’m so glad.’ He winced at my tone – and he was right to. ‘It’s about time they began to do something constructive, rather than destructive.’

  ‘I’ve talked to Lania,’ he said quickly, ‘and we’ve postponed our conference until this evening. You can take it easy all afternoon. You need some rest.’

  ‘I sure do.’ I closed my eyes again and fell back against the cushions. I was feeling better, but not prepared to admit it. Let them worry about me for a change – turn about was fair play.

  Then I heard the sound of pages turning and opened my eyes. Arnold had resumed his seat and gone back to his newspapers. He was still worrying more about himself than about me.

  ‘Have you found anything?’ I asked, giving up.

  ‘Not a thing.’ He gestured hopelessly to the pile of newspapers at his feet. ‘According to all this, John Blake was the original Mr Clean. Everything’s there: the account of the accident, the police search for the other driver, the report of the funeral, tributes from colleagues, the obituary, letters from people he’d helped. One of the Nice Guys of the world – no reason anyone could possibly have for murdering him. And yet, he’s dead.’

  ‘Maybe it was an accident.’

  ‘Then why is it still going on? Why is it aimed at me? I can’t figure out any rhyme or reason for it, except that I’m square in the target area.’

  ‘In that case, we’re in the target area, too – the kids and me. So why haven’t they tried to hurt us?’

  ‘You were in the car with me when it went out of control.’

  ‘Yes, but nothing has happened to us since. And there’ve been two more attempts on your life. Also – Lania and Richard are in the target area – and nothing’s happened to them. That can’t be the answer, Arnold. It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ he sighed. ‘I’ve been clinging to it because the only other answer I can think of is even more frightening: somebody’s taken out a contract on me.’

  ‘Arnold!’ I wanted to say that such things didn’t happen, only there were more reports of them happening every day. But – to people like us? ‘Why? Who would do such a thing?’

  ‘I wish I knew. I’ve never done anything worse than fail a few lousy students who deserved it. Some of their parents got pretty mad – but I don’t think they were that mad. Besides, nothing ever happened to me in New Hampshire. They’d have done it there, if they wanted revenge. They couldn’t chase me all the way over here.’

  ‘A contract ...’ I shuddered. ‘Arnold, that’s awful. It’s – it’s so impersonal. That means it could be anybody doing it. While the person who gave the orders stays hundreds of miles away with a perfect alibi.’

  ‘That’s about the size of it, honey. It needn’t even have cost them very much. For sure, there wouldn’t have been much problem about getting those soccer hooligans to kick me around. They’d probably have done it for nothing. If somebody slipped them a few big ones and suggested they give their knives a workout, too, it would have been money for jam to them.’

  ‘Arnold – let’s get out of here!’ I threw back the coverlet and leaped to my feet. ‘We don’t have to hang around here and – and wait for somebody to kill you! We can cat
ch a flight back to the States in the morning. On standby. If there aren’t enough seats, you can get away first and the kids and I will follow you. We’ll rent a cottage for the rest of the summer until Rosemary leaves our house. I’ll start packing –’

  ‘It’s no good, Babe.’ He caught me as I dashed for the door. ‘How do we know that would stop them? Whatever it is, we may be in too deep.’

  ‘Oh, God!’ I let him lead me back to the sofa. ‘How did we get into this?’

  ‘If we knew, we wouldn’t have gotten into it. That is, I wouldn’t have.’ He went back to the desk and picked up another pile of newspapers. ‘I’ve already been through these –’ He put them down beside me. ‘Suppose you have a look. You might spot something I’ve missed.’

  ‘How can I spot anything when I don’t know what we’re looking for?’ It kept coming back to that. I lifted the top paper listlessly and scanned meaningless headlines. It was dated a lot earlier than the accident and had the usual London-based reports of criminal and spy trials at the Old Bailey, complete with the inevitable supergrasses and weeping mothers who claimed their dear sweet sons could never have done such awful things and all the evidence had been rigged against them. Just like the Stateside trials and the inevitable refrain: ‘We was framed.’

  Arnold had evidently bought that issue because there was a small story buried in the inner pages about the Blake children winning some prizes at a local Riding Academy. I wondered if it might be a good idea to enrol the twins in something like that so that they could work off their surplus energy and keep out of mischief. If we stayed here much longer, that is.

  ‘Arnold,’ I said, ‘I still think we ought to leave the country. It’s worth a try.’

  ‘I don’t like running away.’ Arnold’s jaw set stubbornly. ‘You and the kids can go, if you like –’

  ‘Not without you!’ He was the reason I wanted to get out of here; to get him to safety.

  ‘I haven’t scratched the surface of my research yet’ He caught my eye and realized that this was a dangerous excuse to give me.

  ‘Besides —’ he added hastily — ‘we can’t just walk out and leave the house in the condition it’s in now. We’ll have to repair the damage first.’

  Twenty

  Lania accepted a drink from Arnold and leaned back comfortably on the sofa, quite as though this were an ordinary social occasion. You had to hand it to her for nerve.

  Piers was rather more conscious that a certain constraint hung in the air. He retreated with his drink to a chair some distance from Lania. A bit late for that.

  ‘Come here, Piers.’ She seemed to think so, too. She patted the place beside her. Reluctantly, he joined her on the sofa.

  Arnold took the armchair across from them and I perched on the arm. There was an awkward silence. Arnold and Piers bared their teeth at each other. Lania and I didn’t bother.

  ‘The way I see it –’ Arnold began, just as Piers said:

  ‘I do think –’

  They stopped and apologized to each other.

  ‘I’m sure we’re all agreed,’ Lania said smoothly, ‘that we want that wall repaired as quickly as possible. Speed is of the essence.’

  This time, I did bare my teeth. I didn’t blame her for trying, but there was no way she was going to get that wall rebuilt before her husband got home. Then we were both going to have to re-wallpaper the bedrooms and I doubted that Lania had kept any spare rolls.

  ‘I could make a start on it –’ Arnold offered.

  ‘Oh no you don’t!’ I said quickly and explained to the others. ‘Any time Arnold tries do-it-yourselfing, he creates an area of Urban Blight for the next twenty years!’

  ‘I’ll bring my people in,’ Piers said. ‘They can do your side, as well, if you like.’

  ‘That would be more sensible,’ I agreed.

  ‘Of course, I’ll have to pull them off another job –’ I looked at him incredulously. Was he going to start bargaining?

  ‘We thought we’d say we heard Lania having a nightmare –’ Arnold offered. That effectively reminded them that they were in no position to bargain. ‘And that was how we came to discover what had happened to the wall.’

  ‘Er, yes.’ Piers flushed slightly. ‘Good idea.’

  ‘How about the insurance policy?’ Arnold turned to Lania. ‘Have you checked it?’

  ‘I don’t know where Richard keeps it,’ Lania said. ‘He’ll take care of all that when he gets home tomorrow or Tuesday. We can have a proper discussion then. Meanwhile, it would be best to authorize that the work be put in hand immediately.’

  ‘That’s okay by us –’

  The doorbell rang, cutting Arnold off.

  ‘It must be your kids –’ I hazarded a guess.

  ‘It couldn’t be,’ Lania said. ‘We left them watching television. They wouldn’t leave their programme.’

  ‘You still let them watch television – after what they’ve done?’

  ‘They didn’t do it alone!’ she snapped, then recovered and smiled sweetly. ‘It’s a programme they especially wanted to see. I didn’t want to deny them – when the whole episode wasn’t entirely their fault.’

  ‘Oh, sure.’ I went to answer the door. I had forgotten – but Angela and Peregrine hadn’t – that Lania was eminently blackmailable from now on. There wasn’t going to be much she’d be able to deny the little darlings in the future.

  I opened the door to find Esmond at eye level. I was so startled it took me a moment to look up and discover who was holding him. Then I nearly went into deep shock.

  ‘Richard! What are you doing home? We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow or Tuesday.’

  ‘Obviously.’ He swept past me grimly, still clutching Esmond, and headed unerringly for the living-room. As I closed the door and followed him, I saw that he was also carrying a suitcase.

  ‘Good evening, everyone.’ He nodded curtly to his wife and former colleague, then turned to Arnold. I wanted to return your cat,’ he said. ‘Esmond seems to think he’s found a very superior cat flap installed just for his benefit. I met him strolling out from behind the dressing table and investigated.’

  ‘Oh, Richard,’ Lania said, ‘I’m sorry. I was going to break it to you gently.’

  ‘Well, there you are. Nothing like an animal for giving the game away. I suppose, if he’d been a dog, he’d have fetched my slippers and –’ he smiled at Piers dangerously – ‘delivered them to you.’

  ‘Esmond, darling!’ I swooped over and collected him. ‘How naughty of you –’ It was a good try, but I knew instinctively that it wasn’t going to avert the storm.

  ‘Were awfully sorry,' Arnold said. ‘We wouldn’t have had this happen for the world, but the kids –’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Richard said. ‘The children told me.’ It was quite clear that that was not all they had told him.

  ‘You’re back early.’ Lania was still trying to preserve a smooth social surface. ‘Were your conferences cancelled?’

  ‘They were never scheduled,’ he said. ‘I thought it was about time we brought this to a head.’

  ‘I think we should go home –’ Lania rose to her feet.

  ‘Why? I don’t think Nancy and Arnold can have any illusions left after last night.’ Richard turned to us. ‘Have you?’

  ‘Poor Esmond must be starving,’ I said quickly. ‘I’ll take him out in the kitchen and feed him.’

  ‘I’ll help you.’ Arnold lurched to his feet.

  ‘I was just leaving –’ Piers got up and moved hastily towards the exit.

  ‘Don’t let me spoil your weekend,’ Richard told Piers coldly. ‘I haven’t unpacked. I thought –’ he looked at Arnold – ‘you might be able to put me up for a night or two, while I look around for something else? I know your sofa opens into a bed.’

  ‘Oh, sure,’ Arnold said. ‘Sure. Glad to have you – I mean, it’s okay with us. Stay as long as you like.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Richard deposited his suitcase in a c
orner.

  ‘Richard, don’t be absurd,’ Lania said. ‘Come home and we’ll settle this quietly.’

  ‘It’s too late,’ he said. ‘I thought I could trust you to be discreet, at least. But now –’

  ‘That isn’t fair!’ I spoke without thinking. ‘How could anybody be discreet with their bedroom wall missing?’

  Arnold sunk his elbow into my ribs and hustled me towards the kitchen. I didn’t object. Even Esmond seemed glad to get out of that room.

  We hung around in the kitchen until we heard the front door slam. It seemed to take a long while. After the silence had gone on for some time, we went back to the living-room, hoping for the best. We didn’t get it. Lania and Piers had left, but Richard was still there.

  Still there – and making himself at home. He had pulled the sofa out, turning it into a bed, and unpacked his pyjamas. Well, we had said he could stay. There was nothing to do but put the best face on it.

  ‘Let me get you a drink,’ Arnold said.

  ‘Thanks, I could use one.’

  I went round the room and collected the empty glasses. It didn’t seem tactful to have them cluttering up the place – and reminding us of the people who had so recently been drinking from them.

  ‘I think we ought to tell him, honey,’ Arnold said, as I returned empty-handed from the kitchen. ‘He might be able to help us.’

  ‘Tell me?’ Richard asked nervously. ‘What more is there?’ He had the nerve-racked look of a man who has been told: ‘That was the good news, now for the bad.’

  ‘Somebody,’ I said, ‘is trying to murder Arnold.’

  ‘Oh,’ Richard breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Is that – ?’ He broke off abruptly, obviously having realized that Is that all? was not quite the comment called for.

  ‘Truly,’ I said.

  ‘What makes you think so?’ Richard was intrigued rather than convinced.

  ‘All those accidents I’ve been having,’ Arnold said. ‘Don’t they make you think?’

  ‘Hmmm ...’ Richard said non-committally.

 

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