‘Well, at least you could tell them the general area.’
‘And you think they’d believe me?’
‘They have to follow everything up; Archie told me that once. In case, against all the odds, it turns out to be right.’ Archie Duncan, a former pupil of Max’s, was a detective sergeant and had come to Rona’s assistance on more than one occasion.
‘Come to think of it, he’d be our best bet. I’ll see if I can get hold of him.’
Magda raised a hand as though to stop her, then let it fall as Rona hurried into the hall to retrieve the phone book. A minute later she was back, the phone in her hand and the open directory under her arm. She perched on the arm of a chair and Magda watched in silence.
But she was out of luck. Archie, it transpired, was on annual leave, and, after a moment’s thought, Rona asked to be put through to someone dealing with the Coombes inquiry. Magda waited impassively as she gave both their names and addresses and went on to give as plausible an account as she could of Magda’s implausible intuition. Coming to an uncertain end, she was smoothly assured her information would be looked into, and the police would contact Magda when someone was available to travel up to Cheshire.
‘They’ll look into it when they’ve someone free,’ Rona reported. ‘Sorry, that’s the best I can do.’
‘They think I’m round the bend,’ Magda said jerkily, ‘and I really can’t blame them. They must get a lot of crank calls; how can they be expected to know when one’s genuine? Anyway – ’ she shuddered – ‘on reflection it’s better this way.’
A chill inched its way down Rona’s spine. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, even if they did agree to drive me up there and I directed them to the house, they’d never let me within a hundred yards, would they? At best, I’d be stuck in the car while they rounded him up. And that wouldn’t do at all.’
Rona moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’
‘I told you, Rona,’ Magda said patiently, ‘it’s essential we meet face-to-face, or the link will never be broken. Even if he’s convicted and sent to prison, we’d still be joined unless we’d managed to untangle ourselves.’
‘But there’s nothing more we can do,’ Rona pointed out, not without relief.
‘Yes, there is; we’ll have to go up by ourselves.’
Rona shook her head disbelievingly. ‘Tell me you’re not suggesting we drive to God knows where, beard a murderer in his den, and say, “Hi, I’m the one who’s been having your dreams and I know you killed your wife!”’
‘That’s the gist of it, yes.’
‘Magda, are you mad?’
She smiled, a mere twist of her lips. ‘Et tu, Brute?’
‘You know what I mean!’ Rona said impatiently. ‘Look, phone Gavin, for God’s sake, and let him talk some sense into you!’
‘He’s away on a course.’
Rona’s heart sank. ‘Max isn’t here either,’ she said numbly.
‘So we’re on our own.’
Rona repressed a shiver. ‘Magda, I tell you categorically there’s no way I’m going to jump in a car and drive up to Cheshire to meet a murderer!’
Magda sighed and rose to her feet. ‘Fair enough. I’ll go by myself. It’s my problem, after all.’
‘You know I can’t let you do that.’
‘I don’t see how you can stop me.’
They stood for a moment facing each other, and Gus, on the rug between them, wagged his tail uncertainly, uneasy at the sudden tension.
‘Look,’ Rona burst out, ‘let me try the police again. If they realize how—’
Magda was shaking her head. ‘It has to be this way. We’ll need them once we’ve found him, though; we’ll phone when we get to Cheshire and can give them definite directions.’
‘You do realize he might kill us too?’
Magda gave a wan smile. ‘Safety in numbers.’
Rona gazed at her helplessly, her heart thumping. In her head, Max’s voice said, If she’s really set on meeting this man, it could become really dangerous. Oh Max, why aren’t you here? ‘You’re really determined to go, with or without me?’
‘I’ve no choice, Rona. This is my last chance to break free of him.’
But what would it take to break free? Rona wondered fearfully.
For a moment longer they held each other’s eyes, Magda’s fierce with determination. Then Rona sighed. ‘All right. Since I can’t let you go alone, I suppose I’ll have to go with you. At least one of us will have our feet on the ground, but I shall most definitely phone for help once we know where he is.’
‘Bless you. I knew I could count on you.’
Perhaps, Rona thought desperately, Magda’s nerve would fail her when they were actually on their way. ‘So – we just set off?’
‘It’s pretty straightforward – I checked on the road map. Motorway virtually all the way – M1, then M6. It shouldn’t take more than three hours.’
Rona’s eyes went to the clock on the mantelpiece. Ten thirty. ‘We’ll have to stop somewhere for lunch.’
Magda gave a choking laugh. ‘Trust you to think of that!’
‘We’ll need a break anyway, on a three-hour journey. And are you proposing to come home this evening?’
For the first time Magda hesitated.
‘It’s the heck of a lot of driving in one day, and heaven knows what we’ll have to face in-between. We’d better take an overnight bag, and we can book in somewhere on spec.’
‘OK,’ Magda agreed. ‘We’ll go in my car; it’s just outside, and I’m the one who knows the way. Go and pack your night things and we can stop briefly for me to collect mine.’
‘If we’re to be away overnight we’ll have to take Gus,’ Rona said. ‘Come to that, it won’t do any harm to have a large dog with us.’
Magda nodded without replying and Rona sensed her impatience to get going.
‘Right,’ she said, ‘I’ll get my things.’
As she hurriedly collected nightdress and sponge bag she wondered briefly if she should phone Max. But whatever he might say, there was no stopping Magda. Little point, then, in worrying him, and possibly Roland too, and by the time he phoned this evening, it should all be safely over. Safely. She bit her lip.
When she reached the hall, Magda was already at the front door, car keys in hand.
‘Hang on a minute, while I get a couple of tins of dog food.’ Rona ran down the basement stairs, returning almost at once, tins in hand. She slipped them into her bag, took her jacket off the peg and unhooked Gus’s lead. ‘His blanket’s in my car, I’m afraid. Have you . . .?’
‘There’s an old coat in the back that he can lie on. Ready?’
Rona cast a quick look about her, aware of extreme reluctance to leave the house. But there was nothing else she could do. ‘Ready,’ she said.
Rona and Gus waited in the car while Magda hurried into her house to collect her things. Having given his new surroundings a thorough sniffing, the dog had settled happily enough on the coat laid out for him. She was the one who hadn’t settled; she felt decidedly twitchy, wishing she were anywhere but here, about to set out on this crazy mission. She could only hope that when it all came to nothing – as, logically, it must – Magda would abandon the whole ridiculous idea and they could come home.
On the way here they’d driven past the Stirlings’ house and Rona reflected ruefully how, only the day before, she’d thought herself free now of distractions. But Magda had been a ticking bomb ever since they’d visited the hypnotist, and in her heart of hearts she’d known her traumas were not over. And now Magda herself was coming back down the path, case in hand.
Having tossed it in the boot, she slid into the driver’s seat beside Rona. ‘OK,’ she said, ‘on y va.’
SIXTEEN
They made good time in the first hour, and shortly afterwards stopped at a service station for a snack lunch. Neither of them had much appetite, and Rona thought back to the buttered toast at her
father’s. Little had she dreamt, then, where her next meal would be. Outside the entrance a bowl of water was provided for dogs, and when they’d eaten she let Gus out to stretch his legs and have a drink.
Then they were on the road again, but within minutes came upon a line of almost stationary traffic. Magda swore softly. ‘We shouldn’t have stopped,’ she said.
‘Magda, it’s roadworks. No matter what time we’d got here, there’d still have been a build-up.’
‘It stretches as far as I can see.’
‘Then we’ll just have to be patient.’ Personally, Rona would have been grateful for an indefinite delay. She nodded at the radio. ‘Let’s have some soothing music.’
Magda located Classic FM and sat drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. ‘I’m worried that if we delay too long I’ll forget the way,’ she admitted anxiously.
Rona, who’d been trying to close her mind to the purpose of their journey, looked at her curiously. ‘How will you know it?’ she asked.
Magda lifted her hands from the wheel and let them fall again. ‘It’s hard to explain. I can visualize the route in my head, though I don’t know the names of the town or any of the roads. I suppose it’s . . . the way he remembers driving.’
Weird, Rona thought. And what would happen if, when they got closer, the route wasn’t as Magda envisaged it? Would she accept defeat?
‘He hit her,’ Magda said suddenly, breaking into her thoughts.
‘What?’
‘Kevin. He hit Lucy.’
‘That’s . . . awful, but how can you possibly know?’
Magda shrugged. ‘It’s in his consciousness. I think it’s a new thing, though, a legacy of his hypnotism.’
‘That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence,’ Rona said after a moment.
‘All bullies are cowards at heart – he wouldn’t take on two of us. All the same, there’ll have to be some kind of physical contact, because that’s what will end it.’
Rona turned to stare at her. ‘Physical contact? You said meeting face-to-face would do it!’
‘That’s what I thought, yes, but on reflection it must have started with us touching in some way. Otherwise, why would our two minds blend, rather than with any of the others on stage? There must have already been contact between us.’
‘Did you touch him?’
‘I was hoping you could tell me – I was in a trance, remember. Was there a time when we came close? Please, Rona, try to think.’
Rona closed her eyes, willing herself back into the Darcy Hall, the lurch in her stomach when Magda, along with the other contestants, fell helplessly asleep, the acts they were instructed to perform, the role playing . . .
‘We told you about the play-acting, when you were divided into pairs and told you were quarrelling, that you’d let each other down. If it was Kevin who was your partner, I think I remember you catching hold of his arm.’
Magda let out her breath in a sigh. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
They lapsed back into silence, letting the strains of the music drift over them. The need for physical contact had increased Rona’s tension, sounding altogether too dangerous. Somehow, she’d have to dissuade her from that. Oh God, she thought, I wish I was safely at home!
It was a good half-hour before they were able to pick up speed again, but it proved to be only the first of several hold-ups. Two more sets of roadworks and an accident accounted for another hour, and by the time they turned off the M6 at the exit for Chester it was four thirty.
‘Are we going to Chester itself?’ Rona asked.
‘I don’t know, I’m just following my instinct. Please don’t talk to me now, Rona; I need to concentrate.’
Behind them Gus stood up, shook himself, and after turning round a couple of times lay back down again. He’d need to be let out soon, Rona thought anxiously. Surely they couldn’t be far from their destination? What with the lunch break and the hold-ups, the journey had already taken almost twice as long as they’d calculated.
After twenty minutes or so, Magda veered left into a road signposted ‘Nestbourne 3 miles’. Rona glanced at her quickly but her face was taut and she didn’t dare question her. Now, away from the heavy traffic, they were entering a residential district, rows of houses, a parade of shops, a school.
Suddenly, Magda drew in to the kerb and stopped the car.
‘Are we here?’ Rona asked, looking quickly about her, her heart in her throat.
Magda shook her head. ‘We’re only a couple of roads away, but I’ve just realized I’ve not considered what happens next. For instance, who’s likely to open the door?’
‘You’re asking me?’
Magda swivelled to face her. ‘God, Rona, all I’ve been thinking about is finding my way here, but what happens next?’
‘The first thing that happens,’ Rona said firmly, ‘is that I’m going to let Gus out for a pee. He must have been crossing his legs for some time now.’ She suited her action to her words and the dog jumped gratefully from the car. Rona attached his lead and he made for the nearest tree while she looked up and down the road. There were cars in several driveways and ahead of her some children were circling on their bikes, calling to each other. It was all so normal, Rona thought, so everyday. How would these families react if they heard a murderer lived just round the corner? If, of course, it was remotely possible that he did.
She let Gus snuffle his way along the gutter for a couple more minutes, then returned to the car, opened the passenger door and leant inside. ‘Come to any decision?’
Magda shook her head. She looked panic-stricken.
‘Then I suggest we drive slowly past the house and size it up. It might give us a clue how to proceed.’
‘Good idea,’ Magda said with relief. ‘Get in, then.’
They cruised forward, passing two roads leading off to the right before turning into a third, which a metal sign identified as Elliott Close. Magda crawled slowly along, her eyes switching feverishly from side to side.
‘There!’ she exclaimed suddenly, and Rona, her head swinging to the left, saw a small, unpretentious semi, its front path bordered by pebbles. Her breath caught in her throat. God, they really had found it, and Kevin Coombes might indeed be behind that front door! It was only as they passed it that she spied a notice in a downstairs window. ‘BED AND BREAKFAST. VACANCIES.’
‘Did you see that?’ she demanded excitedly. ‘It’s a B and B!’
Magda was slowing and came to a halt four houses down. She switched off the engine, and in the sudden silence Rona added, ‘It’s the solution to all our problems! All we have to do is go in and ask for a room!’
To her surprise, Magda was shaking her head. ‘No, that wouldn’t work. Don’t you see – it would put us on entirely the wrong footing. We’d have to go in to high tea or whatever and sit down at a table next to him. How, in that context, could I possibly confront him?’
Rona, deflated, sat back, and after a minute Magda struck the steering wheel with her hand. ‘I know! I’ll pretend I’m looking for my husband, then play it by ear. At least that way we should find out who’s staying there; for all we know there might be several lodgers.’
‘The house doesn’t look that big,’ Rona said doubtfully ‘I’d say two rooms at the most would be let out.’ Impulsively she turned to her. ‘Magda, are you sure you want to go through with this? It’s not too late to back out. We’ve found the house – let the police handle it now.’
‘But he mightn’t be in. We have to know he’s actually there.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘So – are you ready?’
‘As ready as I’ll ever be. Thank God we’ve got Gus.’
They climbed out of the car. A boy was coming along the pavement distributing free newspapers. In a garden down the road a baby started to cry. Rona realized she was shaking. Oh God, she thought, holding tightly to the dog’s lead, if only Max was here! Hearts pounding, they walked back to the house with the pebble-lined path, and, after briefly squeezing e
ach other’s hands, Magda pressed the bell.
Lindsey sat at her desk, gazing unseeingly into the distance. There was a mound of work awaiting her attention, but she was totally incapable of tackling it. She had just returned from lunch with Jonathan, and her mind was a maelstrom.
He must have followed her, because they’d not arranged to meet. She had set off for the Bacchus – five minutes’ walk from the office – with a new paperback in her bag, looking forward to an hour’s peace from the pressures of work; but no sooner had she seated herself in one of the little booths than he had slid into the seat opposite her.
Her request that he move to another table, on the grounds that other members of the firm came here, had been summarily dismissed.
‘If they do, they’ll see us having a business lunch, as colleagues often do.’
It was obvious from the first that he was in a mood she didn’t recognize, more serious and reflective than his usual laid-back manner. They’d ordered their tapas and, to her surprise, he’d added a bottle of house red. Alcohol at lunchtime was avoided during the working week – a rule he invariably kept. Then he’d started talking in a low voice, and she’d been startled into silence.
‘Lindsey, this past week I’ve not been able to get you out of my head. That evening at the Clarendon changed everything, and I just have to know: am I in with a chance?’
Her eyes fell before his intent gaze. ‘A chance of what?’
‘Of our getting back together, on a more serious basis.’
‘Serious?’
He gave a wry smile. ‘I won’t insult you with the old line of being about to leave my wife, because of course I’ve no intention of doing so. I’m a selfish bastard, and I want to have my cake and eat it. I’m lucky enough to have a comfortable home, an attractive wife – who’s also a social asset – two bright kids, membership of the right clubs and a good career. If we went public all that would vanish in the twinkling of an eye, added to which we’d be slung out of Chase Mortimer on our ears. That is not the way partners of the firm are expected to behave.’
A Question of Identity Page 21