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Angel of Death

Page 26

by Charlotte Lamb


  ‘They were marvellous,’ she said as he carried her to the side of the boat to look down into the water from which she had only just escaped.

  It looked so pretty, blue and glittering, sun dancing on the surface. Who would believe it was so dangerous, so deadly?

  The coastguard was throwing raw fish to the dolphins; they leapt out of the water to take it, silvery and lithe, swallowing the fish whole, their white teeth visible briefly in that friendly grin of theirs.

  ‘Thank you, thank you,’ Miranda called and they looked at her as if understanding, grinned up at her, made more of their strange chuckling noises, swam once around the boat in a pair, nose to nose, then leapt out again, flicking their tails, before sinking back into the water and disappearing.

  Miranda was sad to see them go – she wished she spoke their language, could tell them how she felt, but her head was going round now, she was sick and dizzy.

  Neil carried her limp, shuddering body into the little cabin and laid her down on a padded bench, pushing a cushion under her head.

  He looked down at her, frowning. ‘You have terrible sunburn.’

  ‘I know.’

  Her face was blotched red, her eyes half-closed, swollen like boiled eggs, the irises mere slits between those puffy, dark red lids. Neil grimaced. ‘Is it painful?’

  She was shivering violently. ‘I feel weird. I’m very hot, but I’m so cold, too. How can you be hot and cold at the same time?’

  He gently laid a blanket over her and the warmth was marvellous; it seeped into her very bones. Even this rather hard bench felt wonderful under her.

  ‘Would you like a hot drink? Chocolate? Are you hungry? I could get you a sandwich. We have ham, cheese – what would you like?’

  Her lids were closing now that she no longer needed to stay awake and aware. She was weary, dying to sleep, to give up, give in, let go of everything.

  ‘Chocolate, yes,’ she whispered. ‘Lovely.’

  ‘Sandwich?’

  ‘No.’ She made a disgusted face. ‘I feel too sick.’

  ‘OK, I’ll be back in a minute. There’s instant chocolate in the galley, we had some earlier. Will you be OK if I leave you alone?’

  ‘Mmmm . . .’ she said, almost asleep.

  He went away. So did Miranda, sinking into warm, soft sleep and dreaming of dolphins and blue seas and fear like a poison in her blood.

  Neil talked on deck to the coastguard. ‘We must get her to a hospital. She’s in shock, that could cause serious worries. She also has bad sunburn and hypothermia. Is there a hospital on the island?’

  The coastguard shook his head. ‘We have a small clinic, attached to the doctor’s surgery, that deals with minor medical problems. Cuts and bruises, that sort of thing. But for anything serious people have to be taken to the mainland. We have a helicopter. I’ll get on to them right away, tell them we’ll need them as soon as we land.’

  Neil went back with the hot chocolate a moment later, but found Miranda asleep, breathing heavily. He put a hand to her forehead and winced at her temperature.

  The sooner they got her to a hospital the better.

  After contacting the helicopter, the coastguard talked to Alex on the radio, too. ‘She isn’t injured, but she’s been in the water for hours, she’s in shock – in fact, she’s sleeping now, and she’s suffering from sunstroke, and hypothermia. She needs immediate treatment for both, which means going to the mainland, to hospital. I’ve been in touch with the helicopter, Georgio will take her at once, as soon as we make land.’

  ‘Wait for me to get back, Stathatoo,’ Alex urgently said. ‘I should be there in half an hour.’

  Alex ended the call and put on more speed, bouncing over the water, his body tense with the drive to get to her. He had been so sure she was dead, that he would never see her again alive.

  But she was alive, thank God. And not seriously injured. But she had obviously had a bad time; she must have been scared stiff. The bastards. How could they do that to a woman? It was barbaric, inhuman. If he found out who had done it, he’d kill them – and not quickly, either. No, he would cut their throats and let them bleed to death.

  It took longer to make land than he had anticipated. At last he got there and tied up at the harbour only to see the helicopter taking off.

  The coastguard met him as he climbed the ladder on to the harbour wall.

  ‘I’m sorry, the English policeman insisted on leaving at once, he wouldn’t wait for you. He said he was worried about shock – she was getting worse and he wanted her to have medical help as soon as possible.’ A pause, the coastguard was embarrassed, couldn’t meet his eyes. ‘And he said . . . said he would rather you did not see her just yet, anyway. She needed complete rest.’

  Alex held on to his temper, refusing to let other people see how he felt. His teeth gritted, he gave a curt nod and said quietly, ‘Well, thank you, for all your help. We’re very grateful. You probably saved her life.’

  ‘Oh, the dolphins did that. They were keeping her afloat, keeping her company. What marvellous creatures they are. I fed them my dinner – a potful of fresh-caught fish I got before I went out to sea. I was going to stew them with some tomatoes and garlic, but I had to thank the dolphins somehow, so I chucked the lot to them.’

  ‘Come back to the hotel and we’ll give you the best dinner of your life,’ Alex said.

  He drove the coastguard up there and left him in Milo’s care, in the bar, then went to his own room to shower and change into clean clothes that did not smell of the sea.

  After that he lay on his bed and stared at the square of the window, angry with Neil for his high-handed arrogance in taking her away. He wants her himself, Alex thought, he always has. I’ve seen the way he looks at her. His teeth ground together. But if he thinks he’ll steal a march on me by taking her away so fast he’s wrong. I’ll cross back to the mainland tomorrow.

  In a small room in a hospital Miranda lay listening to the sound of cicadas in a garden outside. The room was quiet and shadowy, beige linen blinds closed against the light.

  She had had treatment, was sedated now, sleepy but comfortable, dazedly remembering what had happened to her, the hours of discomfort and fear, the dolphins, the rescue.

  Neil came into the room and she started, looking at him blearily. He had changed out of his damp, salt-stained jeans and was wearing a suit again, looking very English.

  ‘Neil . . . where am I? On the island?’

  ‘No, we’re in Greece now. You needed hospital treatment and there’s no hospital on the island, so we flew you here.’

  ‘Is Alex here?’

  ‘No, I thought it was wisest not to wait for him to get back to the harbour, but I expect he’ll come to see you tomorrow.’

  ‘No!’ she burst out, her hand clutching at his sleeve. ‘Don’t let him. I don’t want to see him.’

  Neil tensed, studied her, eyes narrowed. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I think . . . I think he may be in league with Terry Finnigan. I heard him talking on the phone. I think it was him . . . he arranged for me to be snatched and thrown into the sea.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alex Manoussi was volcanic with rage. He had flown back to Greece the morning after Miranda was rescued and gone immediately to the Athens hospital where he knew she had been taken by Neil, who had sent him a fax confirming this, only to be denied admittance to her private room. Two Greek policemen stood guard outside, shoulder to shoulder, big men in uniform, with darkly tanned faces and watchful black eyes. They wore guns at their belts and looked as if they would use them without hesitation.

  They were very polite to Alex, polite but firm. ‘I am sorry, sir, but our orders are that no one may be allowed to see her.’

  ‘Who is your superior? Where do I find him?’

  Expressionlessly, they gave him a name and telephone number, but when Alex tried to talk their superior officer into allowing him to see Miranda he came up against a brick wall.

  ‘S
he has narrowly escaped death, she has to be protected. She cannot see anyone except police officers.’

  Alex took a deep breath, forced himself to seem calm. ‘There is a British police officer from London, a Sergeant Neil Maddrell – do you know where I could find him?’

  ‘He is staying at the Syntagma Hotel.’

  But when Alex went there he was told Sergeant Maddrell was not in the hotel. No, the receptionist had no idea where he could be found. Alex left a note asking Neil to get in touch with him, but got no reply.

  He sent a fax to the hotel the following day. Neil faxed back that it was considered essential that no one at all should see Miranda, and he hoped Alex would leave her alone. She was very shaken, and needed rest.

  Alex’s language turned the air blue.

  A week later, Miranda flew back to London, looking almost normal. Her swollen eyes had shrunk back to their usual size, her reddened skin no longer had a rough rash, instead it had begun to peel off in strips. Her head didn’t ache any more. But the attack on her had left a long-term legacy – she was still sleeping badly, had nightmares every night and was jumpy and nervous.

  Neil took her to his flat which was a short walk from one of London’s many parks. From the window of the tiny box room she would be using she could see trees, many of which were stripping now for winter, their yellow, russet and orange leaves blowing off like ancient coins, drifting down the streets, filling the gutters and choking the drains. A brisk autumn wind rattled the windows, rain spattered lightly.

  She shivered. Autumnal London was dreary compared to the blue skies, blue seas and hot sun of Greece.

  ‘Will you be OK in here?’ Neil asked uncertainly and she turned to smile gratefully at him.

  ‘It’s fine, thank you, you’re very kind.’

  ‘I just want you to be safe. They won’t get at you in here. It won’t occur to them that you’ll be staying with me. Or to Alex, I hope. He’s been trying to see you ever since you left the island.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I’ve got to go in to work, I’m afraid. You won’t be nervous, alone, will you?’

  ‘No, I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Good. Before I go, can I get you a meal? My freezer is well stocked, or there’s a Chinese restaurant in this block. It wouldn’t take me five minutes to get you something from them.’

  She shook her head. ‘Thanks, but I’m not really hungry.’

  ‘Well, if you change your mind, take what you like from the kitchen. I’ve got plenty of stuff in the freezer, frozen foods, chops, a couple of steaks, I think, and I’ve also got eggs, bacon, salad, vegetables – everything you could need. Just help yourself.’

  He left, warning her not to leave the flat or open the door. She watched television for an hour, then rang her mother.

  ‘Where have you been? I was getting worried,’ Dorothy Knox said. ‘I had a call from that Greek, Pandora’s brother, saying you had left Greece and asking if you were with me. He wants you to get in touch with him, he needs to talk to you.’

  ‘I don’t need to talk to him,’ Miranda said flatly.

  Surprised, her mother asked, ‘What’s this all about? I thought you were nicely settled over there – why have you left so soon? Have you quarrelled with Pandora’s brother? What about Pandora, how is she?’

  ‘She’s OK, as far as I know; I haven’t spoken to her for a week. She’s still staying in bed all day, and getting pretty bored, but at least the baby is stabilised.’

  ‘What about the brother? What’s he done to make you so cross?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about Alex.’ Miranda sounded stiff and sulky.

  ‘Oh. I thought you liked him.’

  ‘I did. Now I don’t, but I really don’t want to talk about it, Mum. Honestly. Please, drop the subject.’

  Reluctantly Dorothy did, asking instead, ‘Where are you?’

  ‘London, I can’t tell you where, it isn’t safe. Did you know Sean Finnigan has been charged? But the trial may not happen for another year, maybe even two – it takes forever to come to court, apparently. It’s going to make life difficult, because I can’t risk them finding out where I am. They had another go at killing me on the island.’

  Dorothy was horrified, her voice shaking, ‘Oh, my God! What happened?’

  ‘They tried to drown me.’

  ‘How terrible – where? I mean, in your bath, like that poor girl, or . . .’

  ‘In the sea.’

  ‘Who did it? It wasn’t Terry Finnigan, was it?’

  ‘No, it was two Greeks. He must have hired them, though. Who else would want me dead?’

  ‘It couldn’t have been an accident? I mean, are you sure they meant to kill you? What exactly happened?’

  ‘They caught me swimming, dragged me into their boat, tied me up, hand and foot, and threw me in the sea miles out from land. It wasn’t an accident, Mum. No way. They meant to kill me.’

  ‘Were you hurt?’

  ‘I had sunstroke and I was in shock, but otherwise I wasn’t hurt. But it was scary.’

  ‘It must have been. You poor girl.’

  ‘The most amazing thing happened, though. I was floating out there, in the middle of the sea, when I was rescued by . . . you’ll never guess what! Dolphins!’

  ‘Dolphins? What do you mean, rescued?’

  ‘Two of them swam beside me, keeping me between them, supporting me and moving me along . . . it was extraordinary, I’ll never forget it. I might have died if it hadn’t been for them.’

  Dorothy exclaimed excitedly. ‘How wonderful. I’ve heard of dolphins helping people, but that’s amazing.’

  She talked about dolphins for some time, then asked, ‘So, was Alex Manoussi involved?’

  ‘I think he may have been. That’s why I left to come back here. Neil thought I shouldn’t stay there any longer. I’m glad to be home, but, I must say, I miss the Greek weather – London is so grey, but it was still sunny and warm back in Greece.’

  ‘Why don’t you come here? Freddy will look after us both. You’d have a full-time bodyguard.’

  ‘I wish I could, but . . .’

  ‘Why can’t you? With me and Freddy to watch over you? You’d be quite safe.’

  Miranda was tempted. It was going to be boring staying in this flat and never going out.

  ‘I’ll talk to Neil.’

  ‘Neil?’

  ‘The policeman in charge of the case.’

  ‘Oh, I remember. Nice man. All right, talk to him. Ask him to ring me and I’ll talk to him, too.’

  She spoke to him that evening when he returned, but he shook his head.

  ‘I know it will be dull for you here, but it is the last place they’ll think of looking, whereas your mother’s home is the first place they’ll go.’

  ‘Alex has already rung her.’

  ‘There you are then!’

  ‘But he will have realised she still thought I was in Greece. He won’t go there. And even if he did, I’ll have her, and Freddy, to take care of me. I won’t be alone.’

  ‘Freddy?’

  ‘Her current boyfriend – he’s an ex-policeman and he’s living there at the cottage to keep an eye on her because the attack on her in London scared her. He can keep an eye on me at the same time. Neil, you know I’m very grateful to you, but I’ll go mad if I have to stay shut up in a tiny London flat forever.’

  He looked at her soberly. ‘Miranda, if anything happened to you I’d never forgive myself.’

  ‘It won’t. I’ll be twice as careful this time. I had such a shock when those Greeks tied me up and threw me in the sea. I was more frightened than I’ve ever been in my life.’

  ‘You and me both. When I arrived and found you were missing I really thought you’d had it that time. It was such a relief to find you alive. I’m not taking any more chances with your safety.’

  ‘But Freddy and my mother will stand guard day and night. I’d have company. It’s very sweet of you to go to so much trouble to take care of me, but I can’t
live locked up in your flat for the next year. I’d go crazy.’

  He rang her mother and spent half an hour talking to her, and was finally persuaded to let Miranda go and stay at the cottage later.

  A week later he drove her down to Dorset at night, under cover of darkness. As they parked outside the cottage, a dark shape reared up in the garden and shone a torch into their faces.

  ‘What the hell . . .’ Neil burst out.

  ‘It’s Freddy,’ Miranda said, laughing.

  Neil groaned. ‘Well, I can’t say he isn’t alert, I suppose!’

  He came to meet them, wearing camouflage trousers and jacket with a hood. ‘I’m camping out here, in a tent, to make sure nobody tries to break in. Sorry if I startled you.’ He offered Neil his hand. ‘Hello. I’m Freddy – a friend of Dorothy. I was in the job myself until they retired me.’

  ‘So I gather. I must say, I’m very relieved that Miranda will have you here to look after her.’

  ‘You can rely on me, don’t worry. I’ve spent years sitting around in patrol cars at night watching someone. I’ve got good ears and I can do without sleep, I nap during daylight hours. I’ve rigged up poacher traps at the back of the cottage – black wires tied between bushes that set off alarm bells. I was taught how to do it by a gamekeeper. Nobody can move about out there without tripping over one of my wires. And they’re quite invisible at night.’

  ‘Sounds perfect,’ Neil said, furtively studying Freddy’s ginger moustache.

  Freddy let them into the cottage, switching off a burglar alarm before stepping over the threshold. Once they were all inside the hall he turned on the electric lights and Dorothy came out of her bedroom and stood at the top of the narrow stairs, peering down at them. She was in blue, brushed-cotton pyjamas over which she wore a shortie blue velvet robe and her bare feet were pushed into blue velvet slippers.

  ‘Everything all right?’

  ‘Yes, hello, Mum. You remember Neil, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I do.’ Dorothy came downstairs, smiling at him, and he blinked at her with the same stunned expression men had always worn when they first met her mother. Even now Dorothy had . . . whatever it was . . . sex appeal, beauty, magnetism, a combination which turned men’s heads, in spite of her age.

 

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