Paws for Alarm

by Marian Babson

  Hazel winced. She hadn’t missed the fact that she was becoming one of ‘these people’. The pleasant respectable life she had yearned for was slipping away ... again.

  ‘If it’s any comfort,’ she said, ‘it’s quite probable that the person who killed John Blake has already been punished. Not for killing the wrong man, but because he might have drawn police attention to the contract by doing so. He might have alerted me, so that I moved away – perhaps to a place where I couldn’t be found again. I – I wish I hadn’t been so foolishly complacent. I suspected nothing.’

  ‘And so they kept watching you, waiting for your husband to join you.’ Richard was cold as a judge. ‘Or visit you.’

  ‘Actually, I’ve seen Terry several times – but never near here.’ She seemed proud of having outwitted her enemies that much. ‘The last time was in Boulogne.’

  ‘The Invisible Man!’ I exclaimed.

  ‘What?’ She was startled.

  ‘That’s where he comes in. He was there when the twins discovered you. A man in bandages.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to get used to the new face when the bandages come off. Terry had to have a bit of plastic surgery. It seemed safer — he had quite distinctive features.’

  ‘Of course!’ I said. ‘Plastic surgery had to be part of the package. That was why they couldn’t be sure which man was your husband. They didn’t know what face he’d be wearing now.’

  ‘You don’t mean they thought I was her husband –’ Arnold was aghast. ‘But I’m an American – and I’ve got the wife and kids to prove it. How could anybody have thought that?’

  I narrowed my eyes and gave him a look he had no trouble interpreting as: Because you’ve been snuggling up to her at every opportunity, the same way you wrapped yourself around that blonde at Pixie’s New Year’s Eve Party!

  ‘They’re very suspicious –’ Hazel almost blushed. ‘And you have no idea of the elaborate scenarios that are constructed to reunite husband and wife.’

  ‘How could I fit into that kind of scenario?’ Arnold asked incredulously. ‘I’ve got a wife and kids of my own.’

  ‘They might have thought the children were yours – ours –’ Hazel was growing embarrassed; she did not look at me. ‘But they might have been very doubtful about the wife.’

  ‘What?’ Now I was incredulous.

  ‘Well, you and Arnold do fight a lot, Nancy.’ The stab in the back came from Lania, standing behind me. ‘You know you’re always nagging him – and in public, too.’

  ‘You were shouting about divorce in the supermarket,’ Hazel reminded me. ‘Everyone heard you. My neighbour thought you meant it. It could have given anyone already suspicious the idea that you were ... masquerading as his wife. No one would have been surprised if there had been one final public display – and then you returned to the States to get that divorce. Leaving Arnold – Terry – free to keep the children and move in with me.’

  ‘I never thought of such a thing,’ Arnold denied instantly. ‘Besides, I’m not Terry. I’m Arnold Harper and I can prove it.’

  The trouble is,’ I told him, ‘nobody ever asked you to prove anything. They were willing to kill you for yourself alone. For which, I would be the last to blame them –’

  ‘You see?’ Lania’s voice soared triumphantly. She was enjoying herself for the first time in days. ‘You’re doing it again!’

  ‘Look –’ I said. ‘Isn’t it about time we stopped horsing around with side issues and called in the police?’

  They all looked at me as though I’d suddenly grown a second head.

  ‘Why?’ Richard asked.

  ‘What would you tell them?’ Hazel wanted to know.

  ‘The truth,’ I said blankly. ‘Somebody killed John Blake. Somebody’s been trying to kill Arnold. Somebody should be arrested and put in jail.’

  ‘But they are in jail,’ Hazel said softly. ‘The ones who are really guilty. The ones who put out the contract, although you could never prove it. And it would be almost impossible to discover the hit man who tried to kill Arnold. It might not even have been the same person each attempt.’

  ‘There’s not much that can be done,’ Richard agreed.

  ‘You mean my car’s been sabotaged, I’ve been stabbed, kicked around, shoved under a bus —’ Arnold’s voice rose – ‘and I’m just supposed to shrug and forget it? John Q. Public gets screwed again!’

  ‘That’s what crime is all about,’ Richard said. ‘Us against them. All the grubby anonymous little chancers, striking in darkness and confusion and disappearing before they can be identified. Perhaps the only thing any of us can do is try to keep some order in our own lives and hope for the best.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Hazel choked back tears. ‘I’d give anything if this hadn’t happened – any of it!’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ I said. But it was. If she hadn’t come to this town to start her new life, none of it would have happened. John Blake would still be alive and Rosemary’s life unshattered. But Hazel – Mavis – was a victim, too.

  ‘What will you do?’ I asked softly.

  ‘I’ll let the police know my cover’s blown. They’ll have me out of here in a couple of hours.’ She pushed herself slowly to her feet. She seemed to have aged ten years. ‘Don’t worry. After I’ve gone, they’ll realize they were wrong again and Arnold will be all right.’

  ‘But will you be all right?’

  ‘Eventually, I suppose. It means we start all over again –’ She walked blindly towards the door. ‘Another name, another town – perhaps even another country.’

  ‘I’ll drive you back,’ Richard said.

  ‘Do you think it’s safe?’ It slipped out; I could have bitten my tongue.

  ‘I’d go with them,’ Lania said quickly. ‘It ought to be all right with another woman in the car.’

  Richard looked at his wife thoughtfully. For a moment, I thought he’d refuse, then he nodded slowly.

  ‘One other thing,’ he said to Hazel. ‘You’ll need money and I gather you’ll be leaving house and contents behind. I’d like to buy your living-room furniture. We need something comfortable and practical for ourselves – something the whole family can live in from now on.’

  Hazel nodded.

  Lania opened her mouth, shut it again, and lingered behind a moment as Richard and Hazel went out.

  ‘The suitcase –’ she whispered to me. ‘Just shove it through the wall, would you? Then we needn’t come back for it and disturb you.’ She left hurriedly.

  I stood looking at the suitcase. The wall – all the ramifications rose in my mind again. I still hadn’t told Rosemary about that. The bedroom would have to be repapered – I hoped she hadn’t been sentimentally attached to the old wallpaper. I’d have to get samples of wallpaper and send them over to her and let her choose. We’d probably have to repaint to match the new paper, too.

  That was bad enough, but I couldn’t tell her about Hazel. Nor could I tell her that John had been so uselessly, senselessly murdered. I’d write to Patrick and Celia; they could break it to her when they judged the time was right. Maybe they could let her enjoy the summer and tell her just before she was due to return to England. It might make it easier for her if she knew she’d never see Hazel again ...

  ‘You see, honey,’ Arnold called me out of my reverie. ‘Everybody’s noticed it.’

  ‘Noticed what?’

  ‘You’ve got to admit it. Sometimes you treat me like a rat’s ass.’

  ‘Arnold, sometimes you are a rat’s ass!’

  ‘You’re still mad about New Year’s Eve, aren’t you?’

  ‘Mad enough.’

  ‘But you’re kinda glad they didn’t manage to kill me, aren’t you?’

  ‘Glad enough ...’ I picked up the suitcase and started for the stairs. ‘Coming?’

  ‘I don’t know. I was just thinking. That sofa looked pretty comfortable when it was pulled out. And it’s quiet down here ... and private. Why don’t you g
et rid of that suitcase and come back down?’

  ‘Hmmm,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure you deserve it but ... maybe I will.’