Wading Into Murder

by JOAN DAHR LAMBERT

  As if to confirm her statement the radio was turned off and one of the men spoke. “We are in Bath again. We have no more time.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Maria replied. “We will finish now.”

  For a moment her face was agonized as she looked at Lady Longtree, then she pressed her lips firmly together. “We must not weep again,” she said. “It is not safe here to show that we are… Well, we must not.”

  Leaning down, she reached for the chador, and Laura saw that her hand was shaking. Lady Longtree took it firmly in her own hand. “We will be together again soon, Maria,” she said with complete confidence. “No one would dare to stop the two of us once we make up our minds.”

  Maria nodded, equally controlled now. “I will set up another meeting as soon as possible,” she agreed. “We have much business still to discuss.”

  The van stopped then and the door slid open. Laura managed to smile at Maria before she climbed out, as did Violet. Lady Longtree looked for a moment as if her composure would crack but she quickly mastered her emotions. She did permit herself a quick look back, however, before the van door slid closed again.

  Maria raised her hand in a salute and then she disappeared.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Violet took Lady Longtree’s arm. “I think a stiff drink is in order.” She led them into a bar, not a local one this time but a place frequented by tourists.

  Lady Longtree sat down with a thump. “That was rather stressful,” she said weakly. “Wonderful but… but hard. I must find William.”

  “In due course,” Violet replied. “You need a bit of time to recover first. It isn’t every day one reclaims a long lost daughter. Grand-daughter I mean.”

  Laura stared at Lady Longtree in stupefaction. “Of course! How could I have been that stupid? Oh for goodness sake,” she went on in disgust, “is everyone in England an accomplished actor? All this time I really did think that you were…”

  “It’s all that grounding in Shakespeare,” Lady Longtree interrupted, looking pleased at Laura’s astonishment.

  Laura smiled. Her belated awakening to the old lady’s real identity had at least diluted the shock of finding Maria. Except, of course, that Lady Longtree wasn’t an old lady. She wasn’t even Lady Longtree.

  “Thank you, my dear,” Lady Longtree added. “It cheered me up immensely to see your astounded face. I must have been quite convincing.”

  “You were,” Laura agreed. “Now that I think about it though, you’ve been gradually morphing from Lady Longtree to Olivia for some time now – if your name really is Olivia. I just didn’t see it. I guess I’ve been distracted.”

  “I suppose I was too. My dedication to the role was slipping. And yes, my name actually is Olivia. So is my mother’s. I broke the succession with Maria. She seems to have started it again.”

  “Odd,” Laura commented. “I never could call you Olivia when you were Lady Longtree. It just didn’t come out.”

  “Quite a few people had that trouble, I noticed,” Lady Longtree/Olivia answered. “So I must have been a bit daunting. My mother certainly is.”

  Violet intervened. “Best to continue using Lady Longtree,” she cautioned Laura, keeping her voice low. “I am sorry to bring it all back after that amusing interlude but it remains necessary to be on our guard. As they say, the walls have ears.”

  She leaned close to Laura and spoke very quietly. “No one must know who Olivia is, in or out of the tour. That is important. She is too well-known. So do not change the way you look at her, think of her or address her. A slip of the tongue on my part, I fear. I must not do it again. Or you.”

  Laura nodded and tried to rearrange her face to its former expression. Violet and Lady Longtree laughed and after a moment Laura joined in.

  “I guess my face shows everything. I’ll try my best, though.”

  “That’s exactly it,” Lady Longtree answered with another laugh. “The effort shows too. But you’ll get it right again in no time,” she went on with assurance. “I must simply act my part properly and all will be well.

  “At any rate, I do feel better after that drink, and the light-hearted discussion. So thank you, both of you. And now, back to work.” She stood resolutely, leaning once more on her trusty umbrella, and walked slowly out the door.

  Laura set her jaw determinedly. If this case didn’t get resolved soon, she really would put herself out as bait, making sure first that help was close at hand.

  Sleep didn’t come easily that night, and what there was of it was short. The phone rang at the ungodly hour of six-thirty. Laura grabbed it irritably.

  It was the desk clerk, sounding apologetic, telling her that Rachel wanted to meet her in the lobby at seven. Laura remembered that Rachel came back on duty today, and was meeting Violet for breakfast to catch up. Probably they wanted her to join them. She had a fast shower, put on some clothes and went down to the lobby.

  To her dismay, Mrs. Takara ran to her in an ecstasy of delight. “I am so very pleased you can come after all!” she exclaimed, taking Laura’s arm. “I knew it would be all right, that they would not mind.

  “We must start early, Elise said,” she went on confidentially. “There is so much to see. We will have breakfast at a place she knows, and then go to the gorge. We will have the whole day. Is that not wonderful? But we must hurry. The car will come at any moment. Truly, I am so pleased…”

  The chatter went on and on as Mrs. Takara pulled Laura toward the door and hustled her outside. Laura tried to remonstrate, but Mrs. Takara paid no attention. Laura began to wonder if she had misheard the message and the desk clerk had said she was to meet Mrs. Takara, not Rachel, at seven.

  Finally, she came to a halt on the sidewalk outside, feeling like a balky mule. “Wait!” she said loudly. “I must explain. I am here to meet Rachel and Violet, and I don’t know if I have permission to go. I can’t come until I ask them.”

  An expression of abject disappointment came over Mrs. Takara’s face. “Oh but surely that is not right,” she said tearfully. “I was told… they said…”

  She didn’t finish her sentence. A tall man charged between them at full speed, knocking Mrs. Takara off her feet. She sat down with a thump, looking astonished.

  Laura leaned down to help her up but then she saw that the tall man had a knife in his hand and was pointing it at her. The father, she realized with horror. She couldn’t be wrong, not with those eyes. They were full of menace.

  Pulling her in front of him, he forced her to walk ahead of him down the street. “Do not struggle, do not speak or you will die,” he grunted. “She will die, too.” He pointed back at a terrified-looking Mrs. Takara. Laura saw that a second man was standing over the diminutive woman. He, too, had a knife.

  Petrified, Laura obeyed. Her assailant’s hand, and the knife it held, pressed into her back; with his other hand, he grasped her arm tightly.

  She tried desperately to think. Surely, someone had seen them and would help her. But who? This was a quiet street; she had seen no one near the hotel, and few people were out at this early hour. Both she and Mrs. Takara could be dead before anyone realized they needed help.

  The man prodded her, urging her to walk faster. Laura stumbled instead. He jerked her upright, and she squealed in pain.

  “Quiet!” he hissed. Laura swallowed hard to suppress another yelp. He was holding her arm so tightly it had gone numb.

  They were heading for the street where she had first seen him, she realized. He must be planning to take her into his house to question her, torture her…

  Stop, Laura told herself. Don’t think about that. Stay alert. An opportunity will come. It always comes. Be ready.

  And just as she had almost given up hope of rescue, it did, in the form of Lady Longtree walking briskly along the sidewalk toward them, umbrella in hand. Not daring to speak, Laura flashed a frantic message for help with her eyes.

  “Good morning, my dear,” Lady Longtree said placidly as she came up to them. �
��I had trouble sleeping so I came out for an early walk. It is a lovely morning, is it not?

  “Could you introduce me to your new friend?” She smiled ingratiatingly at Laura’s abductor.

  “This is the father of the baby, the one we found in the Baths. I’m not sure of his name,” Laura gabbled. “He met me outside the hotel, with Mrs. Takara.”

  “Enough,” the man said gruffly, pushing her forward. “We must go.” He had hidden the knife, she saw, but she still felt it on her back.

  “I shall see you soon, Laura,” Lady Longtree said cheerfully. “I believe Violet will be along soon too. I’ll let her know I have seen you right away.”

  Relief flooded through Laura. Lady Longtree had understood, would set a rescue in motion. She had only to wait – and to stay alive.

  “In here,” the man ordered, pointing with his head to a dark alley between two narrow streets. Terrified anew, Laura balked. She might not have any more time, at least not enough time to wait for Lady Longtree to get help.

  The man swore viciously when she stopped. Raising the knife, he held it at her throat. The gesture was too much for Laura and she screamed.

  His reaction was unexpected. “No noise,” he hissed again, taking the knife away for a second and brandishing it fiercely. “No noise or I will slice…”

  Laura didn’t give him a chance to finish. Sensing that he was off guard, she wrenched her arm away, gave him a hard shove with both fists, and ran as fast as she could. He sprinted after her, even faster. He would catch up with her in moments.

  A big truck was parked beside the curb. Laura ducked behind it and plunged across the street, narrowly avoiding a collision with a car. The man’s footsteps ceased as he waited for a line of cars to pass, giving her a brief lead.

  Heart pounding, Laura ran on. Where could she go?

  The Abbey came into view. Maybe she could find a place to hide in there, or maybe a priest would help her. She plunged through the door at a run.

  A cleaning woman dusting the pews looked up at her in surprise. “The Abbey is not open yet,” she said politely in heavily accented English.

  “Please,” Laura gasped. “Please, you must help me. A man with a knife is after me. He wants to kill me…”

  She broke off in astonishment. The cleaning woman was baby’s mother. It seemed impossible. “I think he is your… your husband,” she stammered.

  The thudding footsteps were audible outside the Abbey. “Please,” Laura begged. “He has a knife.”

  Fear flooded the woman’s face. She stared at Laura for a moment and then seemed to make up her mind. “Come,” she said, pulling Laura to the side of the altar. “Go down there. I will put the grate back after you. He will not be able to get to you.” She pointed toward the small hole beneath the grate Laura had noticed on her earlier visit to the church.

  Kneeling quickly, the woman removed the grate and shoved it aside. Laura hesitated, appalled. It was only a tiny hole and there might be rats, spiders certainly, and the sides would press in on her and she might never be able to get out again…

  “Quick, he is coming. You must,” the woman urged. She was right. The father had reached the door of the Abbey.

  Reluctantly, Laura lowered her body into the hole and crouched down as far as she could. Cobwebs caught at her face, and the earth pressed in all around her, cold and damp. The smell of mustiness was overwhelming. She couldn’t breathe…

  She heard the grate slide into place above her and the muted click of a key being turned in a lock. The woman’s footsteps darted away. Laura tried not to scream. Had the woman locked her in this hole for her maniac husband to find? Oh God, had she been locked in here like a sacrificial victim?

  The man’s heavy footsteps were close now. Laura heard him scuffle his feet uncertainly, then he was still. She dared to peer out. He was there, next to the grating, searching the interior of the Abbey with narrowed eyes. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the gasp of fear that was about to come out.

  Her assailant stiffened. Had he heard that tiny noise? He peered around the altar and then, suddenly, he knelt. The green eyes stared down at her.

  Terror paralyzed Laura. She was trapped… trapped…

  Triumph filled the man’s face. He yanked hard at the grating. It didn’t budge. Swearing, he pulled at it viciously; then he grabbed what Laura saw was a padlock and tried to wrench it off. Sobbing with fright, she pushed further into the hole, but it was too tight... There was nowhere to go, and he would have the grate off soon…

  Another sound came, right over her head, a sound so sudden and unexpected that Laura jumped, hitting her head on the grill.

  “En garde!” a voice proclaimed loudly into the silence.

  Laura’s eyes widened with shock. Lady Longtree’s voice! Her feet, neatly shod in their small brown boots, were visible on one side of the grating. She appeared to be brandishing her umbrella fiercely.

  “En garde!” Lady Longtree repeated in ringing tones that reverberated through the Abbey. The man didn’t move. Too astounded, Laura thought hysterically. She was too. Did Lady Longtree mean to take on this maniac all by herself with her umbrella?

  Apparently she did. Recovering quickly, the man ran at her, slashing with his knife. The umbrella smacked his arm. He took a few steps back and tried again. The small boots began to dance and Laura watched them in stupefied fascination. They lunged forward, stepped nimbly to one side as her opponent charged, then lunged again. The man was breathing heavily now, but he was getting closer to Lady Longtree. She couldn’t keep him away much longer.

  Another voice came, a voice full of authority. “Drop the knife. Now! You are surrounded.”

  The man froze. Lady Longtree took advantage of his stillness. Umbrella held before her like a dagger, she lunged at him. He let out a yelp; then he turned and ran. Lady Longtree followed. Laura heard a dull thwack, a muttered curse, and then the sound of his feet sprinting the other way. Again, Lady Longtree’s feet followed; so did another of those dull thwacks. Could that possibly be Lady Longtree’s umbrella hitting him over the head?

  Laura pressed her face to the grating, wanting desperately to see what was happening and even more desperately to get out of this hideous hole. The tears came again, interspersed with a choking feeling in her throat that she recognized as hysterical laughter. She mustn’t let herself get hysterical.

  She heard more running footsteps, heavy ones. Policemen’s boots? There was a prolonged scuffle not too far away. A gruff voice spoke: “Don’t be a fool. Drop the knife. It will go hard with you if you stab one of my lads.”

  A further scuffle with lots of cursing and heavy breathing came next. A loud thud followed. “Got him,” someone said, sounding out of breath. Laura heard a sharp click this time. Handcuffs, she hoped fervently, and tried not to cry again.

  “All right, lads, take the joker away. Keep close to him, mind you. He’s a wild one, a fighter. Watch him.

  “Take Johnny up to the surgery. Knife got him on the arm.”

  “Yes sir.” More feet moved away and the voices stopped. An eerie silence followed. Laura panicked. Had they forgotten her? She pulled frantically at the grating. “Help me!” she cried. “Don’t leave me here!”

  “We wouldn’t do that.” Violet’s voice now, her footsteps coming closer. She peered down at Laura. “Are you all right?”

  “He didn’t slash me if that’s what you mean, but I’m not all right,” Laura answered testily. “It’s horrible in here.”

  “That’s a relief.” Violet examined the grating. “We might need an ironmonger, though - a locksmith that is, to get you out. We can’t seem to find the person who has the key. How did you manage to get padlocked into a hole anyway?”

  “The mother,” Laura said, fighting tears. “She locked it, but I don’t know if she did it so he couldn’t get at me or so he could…”

  “Couldn’t I expect,” Lady Longtree’s voice interrupted. “But then she became frightened and ran away. With t
he key. Not the mother though, her sister I believe.”

  “I don’t care who she was. Just get me out of here!” Laura yelped.

  “No problem.” It was William this time. “I know where the tunnel you’re in goes. I’ll come in and fetch you. It’ll take a few minutes, though.”

  “I want to get out now!” Laura wailed. “I hate places like this. There are rats down here, I know there are. I can hear them…”

  She could too. Now that all the noises above her had ceased she could hear them, rustling sounds, or was it chewing? They might come and start to chew on her….

  “Rats don’t bother people who aren’t dead yet,” William offered by way of comfort. “There’s probably plenty of food for them in the crypts anyway.”

  Laura started to laugh then, a hysterical sobbing laugh that brought first Violet and then Rachel to the grating. She heard a murmured conversation between her gasps, and then one pair of feet moved away.

  “All right, Laura.” Rachel’s voice now, cheerful and calm. “I’m sure it’s dreadful down there, but we really will get you out soon, William’s jokes notwithstanding. I’d hand you a cup of tea if I could, but water from a flask will have to do. Here, I’ll drip it down if you’ll put your mouth up.”

  Momentarily soothed by her calmness and certainty, Laura obeyed. A few dribbles of water, laced with something stronger she suspected, went down her parched throat. It burned pleasantly. She took a deep breath and asked for another dribble. After about four of them, she felt steadier.

  “Brandied water?” she asked shakily.

  “Just a drop or two,” Rachel answered. “I keep it handy for situations like this. If I could, I’d bring one of those dogs, the St. Bernard types they have in all the pictures of Switzerland with a cask around their necks.”

  That made Laura laugh, a more normal sound this time, and she began to feel marginally better – until she remembered Mrs. Takara.

  “Mrs. Takara!” she exclaimed. “How could I forget? She’s being held hostage too. He knocked her over just before he grabbed me and said she would be killed if I didn’t come. Just outside the hotel. You’ve got to rescue her.”