Only the Cat Knows

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Only the Cat Knows Page 13

by Marian Babson


  ‘I believe they’re trying to drive Nessa mad,’ I told him. ‘Or else convince other people that she already is mad. That’s why I haven’t mentioned this to any of them.’

  The cat stalked over to the door, tail lashing. She was furious. She’d had enough! She glared over her shoulder at us and her message was clear: Do something about it!

  ‘The cat can hear it, too.’ Anderson sounded as though her evidence was more reliable than his own ears. I knew the feeling. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Nothing. That’s what someone wants — me rushing out impulsively. Straight into whatever they’ve got waiting for me out there.’

  ‘I could —’ he began.

  ‘Don’t even think of it!’ I cut him off. ‘Their plan would probably work just as well if they killed you — and blamed Nessa for it. Perhaps even better. They could pin the other killing on her, too.’

  ‘Other? But she wasn’t even here when Francesca —’ He broke off, abruptly realizing he’d gone too far.

  ‘Who said anything about Francesca? I’m talking about the body in the cell.’

  ‘Look — I told you the truth about that. Monica took me to it to see for myself. There was no body in the cell. Nothing but the effigy of the monk — just as there’s always been.’

  ‘We’ll come back to that later.’ He’d started to rise, but I pushed him back into the chair. ‘First, try telling me the truth about Francesca.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about Francesca.’ He folded his arms across his chest and looked at me defiantly.

  I clenched my fist, then unclenched it, fighting for control. If what I suspected was true, this might be my future brother-in-law. If I didn’t kill him first.

  ‘Then tell me more about what you don’t know.’

  ‘She … left … so suddenly.’ He was desperately unhappy at admitting anything. His gaze slithered from me to the cat, to the door, back to me. ‘Everyone was saying she’d eloped, but …’

  ‘But you don’t quite believe that, do you?’

  ‘I … don’t know … I’m not sure …’ He looked at the door again, but both the cat and I stood between him and it.

  ‘The Elopement?’ I prodded. ‘Or the Disappearance? Forget what you don’t know, what do you suspect? And why?’

  ‘The Golden Handcuffs,’ he said. ‘I don’t think she’d risk losing those. She was too close to collecting.’

  ‘Golden Handcuffs?’ I didn’t like the sound of that. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’ve got them, too. That is, Nessa has. All of the women have. Why do you think they bury themselves in a place like this and put up with all of Oversall’s whims?’

  ‘I’ve wondered. But I thought he was running some sort of Home for Retired Mistresses — and paying over the odds in memory of old times.’

  ‘Close … but not quite on target.’

  ‘Except for Nessa, of course,’ I qualified hastily.

  ‘Of course.’ Now that he’d admitted that much, he was ready to talk more — if not tell all. ‘He pays well, but not that well, although the board and lodging count for a good bit, but the real perk is the bonus system. The Golden Handcuffs is the name they give it among themselves because that’s the way it works. The longer you stay in his employment, the richer in your own right you become.’

  So that was why Madame thought I was greedy. To the point of being reckless with my own life. Nessa’s life.

  ‘Explain,’ I said. ‘Just how does it work?’

  ‘Extremely well. Oversall has gifted each one with a very substantial sum, set up in a trust fund which they will have access to after seven years. Neither he nor they have to pay tax on it — provided that he lives for seven years after the gift. He repeats this with fresh funds every seven years. Needless to say, they take very good care of him. They’re not just part of the entertainment when he has some of his dodgy business associates calling on him. They’re the best bodyguard available — they have a vested interest in his continuing good health. I believe Yvonne actually did save his life on one occasion when she spotted a Dictator’s apprentice unsheathing a concealed knife too close to Oversall’s back. And Amanda is a genius at sussing out anyone high on drugs or otherwise mentally unstable. Those two are better guard dogs than any of the four-legged variety patrolling the grounds.’

  ‘Does this just apply to the women?’ I thought of Ivor — was he out of the arrangements and angling for a wealthy wife? ‘Or do the men benefit, too?’

  ‘Actually, they do.’ His face crimsoned; he thought I was getting at him. ‘We do.’

  ‘So you all do double duty. Along with your nominal jobs, you’re part of his private army.’

  ‘If you want to put it like that, yes.’

  ‘I’d say it was a fair assessment of the situation. So, with all this money in the offing, if Francesca eloped, it would have to be with a multimillionaire to make it worth her while?’

  ‘Precisely — and there weren’t any around at the time she disappeared. In fact, Oversall had no visitors at all that week. He spent it closeted with the auditors — and none of them had enough of an income to be of interest to Francesca.’

  ‘Interesting …’ It was even more interesting that neither of us considered her being swept away by love as a possibility.

  ‘Interesting … and disturbing.’

  ‘If Nessa was enrolled in this private army, then I’m even more surprised that Oversall hasn’t sent for me yet. Doesn’t he object to the fact that I’m not pulling my full weight along with the rest?’

  ‘He’s a realist above all. He knows you’re not much use to him at the moment. He’ll bide his time.’ Anderson glared at me briefly before looking towards the cloister. ‘That music has stopped.’

  The cat looked in that direction, too, then her ears flattened and she streaked for the bedroom. The music may have stopped, but something else was happening.

  ‘Perhaps —’ Anderson stood and I made no move to stop him — ‘this would be a good moment for me to get away. I’ll take a look around outside before I leave,’ he added placatingly.

  ‘Don’t bother.’ Now I could hear what the cat had heard. ‘It’s being taken care of.’

  ‘What —?’

  ‘Miss Nessa?’ There was a light tap on the door. ‘You all right in there?’ A soft ‘Woof?’ echoed the enquiry.

  ‘It’s Bud,’ I said. ‘Making his rounds. He’ll see you to your car.’

  ‘I don’t need —’

  But I had already crossed to the door and opened it, not wide enough to let Brutus in, although he shoved forward.

  ‘Dr Anderson was just leaving, Bud. Perhaps you’d be kind enough to take him to his car,’ I said, as Bud stepped aside to let Anderson out.

  ‘What’s the doctor doing here?’ Bud glared at Anderson suspiciously. ‘You all right?’

  ‘She’s fine,’ Anderson said. ‘I’m just making sure she stays that way’

  ‘He giving you any trouble?’ Bud hung back to ask with quiet menace.

  ‘No, no, it’s all right. He’s fine.’ Bud’s sudden protective-ness made me nervous. Annoying though he was, I didn’t want any accident to happen to Anderson on the way to his car. ‘Everything is fine.’

  ‘Right, then.’ He hovered uncertainly, not sure whether to believe me or not.

  I smiled at him reassuringly.

  ‘Right.’ He leaned towards me and lowered his voice. ‘Anyone bothers you, just let me know. I’ll take care of them.’

  Brutus growled agreement.

  Chapter Eighteen

  By mid-morning, the other office staff were getting used to having me around.

  One of the townies brought a cup of coffee and set it down beside a pile of envelopes with the sympathetic smile of one who was awfully glad that she hadn’t been lumbered with that miserable dead-end job.

  Later, I became aware of someone standing by my elbow and looked up to find Yvonne staring down at me pensively.

&nb
sp; ‘It is so good to see you back … at work,’ she said.

  Back where you belong, she had almost said. But this was not where I belonged and we both knew it, although she didn’t know that I knew it.

  ‘Thank you,’ I smiled. This was the first time she had ever put herself out to be friendly I waited for the ulterior motive to surface.

  ‘Is it beginning to seem familiar?’ The solicitous voice on my other side made me jump. I hadn’t been aware that anyone was standing there.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,’ Amanda said. She and Yvonne exchanged glances over my head. ‘I was just wondering if all this was bringing back any memories.’

  ‘None at all, I’m afraid.’ The admission didn’t seem to cheer them particularly, perhaps because there had never been any memories to connect with this job or this office. ‘But it’s good to be doing something useful again.’ I gave them a brave smile.

  ‘Yes, well, keep up the good work.’ For a moment, it looked as though Amanda was going to pat me on the shoulder, but she restrained herself and settled for a nod instead. Yvonne was already moving away.

  Bemused, I drew another stack of envelopes towards me and went on with the addressing as though nothing unusual had happened. But this was the first time either of them had paid any attention to me. They had remained aloof while the others had tried to claim friendship or intimacy. Interesting … to find them now suddenly prepared to be chummy. Was it because I had been no threat to them before — but was now impinging on their territory?

  A room I had never seen before (no surprise there) functioned as the Staff Canteen. I arrived late, hoping the corridors might be deserted enough to allow for some exploration, under the guise of having lost my way. I had already suspected that none of the senior staff would use the place and I was right. No one questioned my being there, however.

  The unfriendly maid was behind the food counter, which was fine; I wasn’t in the mood for cheerful greetings. The most popular item on the menu seemed to have been the pork-and-leek sausages, there were only a few left. I nodded towards them and added a portion of onion mash and grilled tomatoes. I wouldn’t have minded a side order of the macaroni-and-cheese, but I was supposed to have a ladylike appetite.

  Murmuring my thanks, I carried my tray over to a table at the end of the room and took a seat with my back to the wall. I could see everything that was going on and no one could sneak up on me. Almost immediately, this proved to be a wise move.

  I saw him coming. I snatched up my tray and stood, but it was too late, he was faster. He stood at the end of the table, blocking my exit, then moved closer, invading my space. Smiling that oily smile, almost drooling.

  ‘Dear Vanessa —’ Ivor smirked. ‘I thought I might find you here.’ He moved closer, forcing me to inch back. The only alternative would be to hurl the contents of my tray in his face and, tempting though the idea was, there were too many interested faces turned in our direction.

  ‘And how does it feel to be back at work?’ He set down his tray, he had the macaroni-and-cheese and nothing else. ‘Are you settling in well? Are you enjoying it? Are you … remembering… the old days?’ He rolled his eyes insinuatingly at me and took the seat opposite, stretching out his legs so that I would fall over them if I made a dash for freedom. He behaved like a man with a lot of experience in herding unwilling sheep into places they didn’t want to go.

  But I wasn’t the ewe he thought I was. On the other hand, I was going to have to deal with him sooner or later, and this might be the best place to make a start. In full view of a lot of interested eavesdroppers who could only guess at the undercurrents.

  ‘I’m all right.’ I reset my own tray on the table and sat down again, looking around for possible allies.

  I encountered a couple of sympathetic smiles and a hostile glare from behind the counter. Charm Girl didn’t like any of us, but she disliked Ivor even more than most. I couldn’t fault her for that.

  ‘You’re looking better. Quite blooming, in fact.’

  ‘I still haven’t remembered anything.’ I cut short the phoney compliments. ‘Not one teeny thing.’

  ‘What a shame,’ his voice said. Jackpot! his expression said. ‘How disappointed you must be.’

  ‘Not that much. They warned me I might never …’ I let my voice quaver … ‘never get my past life back.’

  ‘You must let me help you, my dear. I can tell you what we used to do —’ He reached for my hand. ‘I can show you what we used to do.’

  ‘Not now!’ I stabbed one of my sausages with a savagery that made him wince and recoil swiftly. His instinct was right. It was only at the last moment that I had diverted my fork from his groping hand. Never, never, never had Nessa had anything to do with this clown!

  ‘Perhaps you’re right.’ He looked around, smirking. ‘This isn’t the time or place. We must reminisce in private.’

  On a freezing day in hell! Nothing he told me would ever be true. Was he as obvious as he looked? Was he just trying to take over a vulnerable young woman he otherwise would never have stood a chance with? Or did he have another, more sinister, agenda? With a feeling of deep depression, I knew that I was going to have to find out.

  ‘We can talk later,’ I said reluctantly. ‘Much later.’

  ‘Not that much later.’ He pushed away his untouched food and got to his feet. ‘I’ll be —’ that insinuating plummy note slid back into his voice as he ogled me complacently — ‘in touch.’

  He walked away with a self-satisfied strut. My gloom lifted slightly as I had a cheering thought: if he got too obnoxious, Bud would be more than willing to sort him out.

  I lingered over my coffee until even the unfriendly server gave up, dismantled her hot table and went away after telling me, with a poisonous look, to leave the dirty cup on the counter, she’d deal with it later.

  The corridor was deserted when I finally left. Looking both ways to be sure, I moved off in the opposite direction to the way I had arrived. If anyone challenged me, I was lost and looking for the way back.

  All the doors along this route were firmly closed, no sound to be heard from behind them. The corridor twisted and became narrower, the lighting seemed dimmer. Perhaps this wing was unused.

  The flagstone path leading off from the next turning was so narrow and dark that I nearly missed it. It could have been some medieval twitten running between two dwellings, except for the roof above it and the door it led up to.

  I tried the door cautiously and it swung open on well-oiled hinges. The carpet beyond was deep and luxurious, the wall sconces glowed warm and welcoming. This part of the building was definitely inhabited. It felt more like a private home than any place I had yet encountered.

  Intrigued but wary, I moved forward, trying to look unaware that I was trespassing. I had not been invited into these superior quarters.

  Somewhere ahead, familiar piano music rippled through the air. Yvonne. Was this her private apartment? I didn’t want to run into her but, as long as the music kept playing, that was unlikely.

  In any case, I had covered too much distance to retrace my steps now. It was safer to go forward and trust the carpet to muffle all sound as I hurried past her door. There were other doors beyond hers, one of them must lead me out of this maze.

  I headed towards the most promising, the one straight ahead with the corridor dividing into two paths in front of it. With luck, it might open into the grounds and I could —

  The music stopped abruptly, followed by a crash, as of a keyboard lid being slammed down. The recital was over, the pianist was not in a good mood.

  The last thing I wanted to do was to encounter her. I was supposed to be at my desk addressing those stupid envelopes. She would not be pleased to find me here.

  I turned and, walking backwards, kept my eye on Yvonne’s door. Perhaps she was just tired of the piano and was going to settle down with a magazine or something.

  The door began to open. I swung around and bolted for
cover. The door straight ahead was already slightly ajar and no indication of life came from the room behind it. I dashed inside and closed the door silently before turning to face the room.

  Out of the frying pan …

  I’d wanted to see Everett Oversall — but not this way.

  The Great Man sat behind a large gleaming mahogany desk, facing the door. A blonde head bent close to his, hair almost sweeping his cheek as she shuffled documents for him to sign, not noticing that she had lost his attention.

  I had it.

  Caught in the laser beam from his eyes like a rabbit paralysed by oncoming headlights, I could only blink. And blink again, my mind gone blank.

  ‘Come in … Vanessa,’ he said.

  ‘What?’ Amanda’s head snapped back. ‘What are you doing here?’ Now I was caught in two laser beams. ‘How did you get in?’

  ‘I lost my way,’ I said feebly. ‘Where am I?’

  ‘Home,’ Oversall said. Those hooded eyes seemed to bore into me and I stared back helplessly. He was smaller than I had expected, in the way celebrities and film stars are always smaller in real life than they look in pictures and on film. Perhaps he was shrinking with age, but he still exuded an aura of power.

  ‘You’ve found your way home.’ He gave a short bark that might have been intended as laughter. ‘It didn’t take you as long as I thought it might.’

  ‘Lost?’ Amanda was not so amused. ‘A likely story! You’ve remembered, haven’t you? You thought you’d sneak in here and —’

  ‘Amanda!’ Oversall cut her off sharply. A quick look passed between them.

  ‘I don’t remember anything,’ I protested. ‘I wish I could. This … this is all so awful!’

  Everett Oversall had kept both hands on his desk, toying with a ruby-tipped fountain pen, surely a gift from some Middle Eastern potentate. You don’t find writing instruments that florid in your local branch of Ryman’s.

  So, when the door flew open and Yvonne burst into the room, I knew it must have been Amanda who had hit the panic button.

 

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