The Cuckoo (Rufus Stone Detective Stories Book 1)

by K. J. Frost

  “Amelie?” I soften my voice.

  “Yes.”

  “What’s happened?”

  Before she can say anything else, she starts crying and I feel completely helpless. I sit back down and Thompson gets to his feet, ushering Ellis from the room and closing the door behind them.

  “Amelie?” I repeat. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

  “Help me,” she whimpers and I’m on my feet again in an instant.

  “Where are you?” I say, more urgently.

  “In my office at work.” She’s still sobbing, but I manage to make out her words.

  “Stay exactly where you are. I’ll be with you in five minutes.” I put the phone down and grab my coat and hat, without putting them on, and dash from the office.

  “Rufus!” I hear Thompson calling after me and turn, while walking backwards towards the stairs.

  “Something’s happened to Amelie… Miss Cooper,” I say.

  He nods his head and, although I’ve not explained to anyone at work about my feelings for her, or our budding relationship, or even that I’m driving her to and from her office each day, he seems to understand.

  “Go,” he says.

  I hesitate for a moment. “I’ll try and get to The Fox later…”

  “Don’t worry,” he replies. “I’m sure Ellis can handle it.”

  “I will try.” I turn, running down the stairs and out to my car.

  The security guard on the gate of the Hawker’s factory lets me in on sight of my warrant card and I park up, jumping from the car and running to the main entrance. I know Amelie’s office is on the left down the corridor, and I rush straight there.

  She’s sitting at a desk, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth, seemingly in a trance.

  “Amelie?” I say quietly and she jumps to her feet and, dodging around the desk, runs straight to me, throwing herself into my arms. Despite my now almost explosive fear, I hold onto her and pull her close to my chest, keeping a firm grip on her and stroking her hair. “You’re shaking,” I whisper.

  She nods into me, and as much as I need to know what’s wrong, I give her some more time to try and calm down first. Once she’s breathing a little more normally, I lean back slightly and look down at her.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  She gulps and sniffs and I pull a handkerchief from my pocket, handing it to her.

  “How many of these do you have?” she asks, deflecting my question and her own obvious anxiety, for a moment.

  “Dozens.” I watch her wipe her cheeks and nose. “Now… can you tell me what happened?”

  She swallows and looks up at me, her eyes still filled with unshed tears and I notice that her hands are still trembling, so I take them both in one of mine and hold them close to me. “I was just packing up,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible, “and the phone rang.” She twists, pulling away from me and I let her go, watching her walk over to her desk, where she touches the telephone as though to demonstrate the point. I follow her, staying close. “It was Miss Higgins,” she says, “and she told me she had a personal call for me.” She looks up at me again. “She was a bit grumpy about it, but I assumed it was you and that you hadn’t given your name because you didn’t want people to gossip.” She pauses, blinking quickly and gulping hard again. “She put the call through, and I answered… but for a moment, there was no-one on the other end. I thought it hadn’t connected properly and was about to hang up, when I heard him…” Her voice fades.

  “Heard who?” I ask.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What did he say?”

  A single tear drops onto her cheek and she goes to dry it with my handkerchief, but I get there first and wipe it away with my thumb. She moves closer, so we’re touching and then looks up at me again. “He said, ‘I’m watching you… There’s no escape,’ and then hung up,” she says. “I––I just panicked. I couldn’t even think straight for a few minutes, but then I knew I had to call you. I needed to hear your voice.” I’d like to say I feel comforted by that, but at that precise moment, she bursts into tears again. I turn her and pull her into my arms once more, holding onto her, despite the fact that my blood is boiling with rage. Whoever is doing this to her had better hope to God that it’s someone else who finally catches up with him.

  After a few minutes, Amelie calms down and leans back. “I’m sorry,” she says.

  “What on earth for?”

  “For crying all over you.”

  “Don’t be silly.” I pull her into me again. “Where are your things?”

  She points to a coat rack behind the door. “And my bag is in my desk,” she says.

  “Right. You get your bag, I’ll get your coat.”

  I let her go and cross the room, picking up her coat from the hook, then taking it over to her and helping her into it, before turning her around and doing up the buttons.

  “Where’s yours?” she asks.

  “My what?”

  “Coat.”

  “Oh… it’s in the car.”

  “You must have frozen to death on the way here,” she remarks.

  “It was only a five minute drive and… well, to be honest, I didn’t notice.”

  She puts on her gloves and beret, without passing comment and then picks up her bag.

  “Ready?” I ask, and she nods by way of reply. “Good. Then I’ll drive you home.”

  I link her arm through mine and lead her out of the office and to my car, opening the passenger door and throwing my coat over to the other side before lowering her down into the seat. I wait for her to get comfortable before closing the door, and go around to the driver’s side, opening the door and putting on my coat before getting in.

  We drive home in silence, with Amelie settled down into the seat, curled in on herself. I want to get her home… at least there she’ll feel safe.

  I pull the car up onto the driveway and go around to the passenger side to let her out.

  “I’ll come in with you,” I say, helping her to her feet. “Just to make sure you’re alright.”

  She nods and leads the way to the front door, opening it with her own key, and I’ve only just closed it behind us when Sarah appears from the back of the house.

  “Oh, it’s you, miss,” she says, then looks at me and gives me a slight curtsey. “Mr Templeton telephoned earlier and said to expect him this evening.”

  For once I feel relieved that Templeton’s going to be here and Amelie won’t be by herself in the house.

  “Very good,” Amelie says. She sounds drained.

  “And there was a telephone call for you as well,” Sarah continues.

  “There was?” Amelie says, paying more attention. “From whom?”

  “I don’t know, miss. He didn’t give a name.”

  Amelie pales and starts to shake again, and I move nearer to her. “When was this?” I ask Sarah.

  “Um… about half an hour ago, I suppose,” she says. “Maybe a little longer. I can’t be sure… I’m sorry.”

  “What exactly did the man say?” I query, desperate to hold Amelie again, but having to settle for standing as close as I can to let her know I’m here.

  “He… he asked if Miss Amelie was home from work yet. I told him she wasn’t and he said he’d try calling her at her office.” She looks at me, flustered and biting her bottom lip. “I asked his name, but he hung up.”

  Amelie looks up at me. “It’s him, isn’t it?” She doesn’t finish her sentence before she starts crying again and I turn to the maid

  “Sarah, please fetch Miss Cooper some sweet tea, will you?” I’m not sure it’ll do any good, but her absence is what I need right at this moment, more than anything.

  “Yes, sir,” she replies and goes towards the back of the house again, disappearing through the last door on the right.

  I wait until she’s out of sight and then bend and lift Amelie into my arms, carrying her through to the living room, and kicking the door closed behind me
. There’s a fire burning in the hearth, the curtains and blackout are pulled across, and two small table lamps are lit, giving off a soft glow. I carry Amelie across the room and place her gently on the sofa, kneeling beside her.

  “Are you alright?” I feel stupid for even asking, considering she’s crying her eyes out and seems incapable of stopping, and she shakes her head in reply. “No… of course you’re not. Let me help you…” I carefully pull off her beret and gloves, and am just undoing the buttons of her coat when the door opens.

  “What on earth is going on here? Step away from her, young man.”

  I turn and get to my feet, to face Gordon Templeton, who’s standing on the threshold, his face like thunder.

  “I’ve just brought Miss Cooper home,” I start to explain.

  “And that gives you the right to molest her, does it?” He raises his voice and steps into the room, slamming the door behind him.

  “I was not molesting her.” I keep my tone as reasonable as I can, considering the accusation. “I was removing her coat… that’s all. She’s had a shock.”

  He stills. “What’s happened?” he asks, his former mood forgotten.

  “Someone telephoned her at work and made a threat against her. She called me and I went to collect her and bring her home.”

  He looks at me. “I apologise.” He’s utterly sincere, and completely calm now. “I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

  I hold up my hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Our conversation is interrupted by the arrival of Sarah, carrying a tray of tea things.

  “I heard Mr Templeton come in,” she says quietly, “so I put an extra cup on the tray.”

  “Thank you, Sarah,” he replies as she puts the tray down on the table. “We’ll manage now.”

  Thus dismissed, she leaves the room. I kneel back down and am about to carry on where I left off with Amelie’s coat, when she does it for me. “I’ll manage,” she says, and gives me a slight smile.

  “Are you alright, my dear,” Templeton says, coming and sitting on the end of the sofa, near her feet, fussing with the tea. I get the feeling he rarely has to perform such menial tasks, but he manages it in the end and hands Amelie a cup.

  “Not really,” she replies honestly, pulling her arms from her coat, and taking the offered hot tea.

  “Tell me what happened?” he says, directing his question to me.

  “Miss Cooper received a call at her office,” I tell him, getting to my feet, but standing as close as I can to her. “The man said ‘I’m watching you. There’s no escape,’ and then ended the call. She telephoned me at the London Road station and I went straight to Canbury Park Road and brought her back here, because I thought she’d be safe here.”

  “Well, she is safe here,” he reasons.

  “Except I’m not,” Amelie says, looking up at me, a lost expression in her eyes.

  Templeton looks from her to me. “I beg your pardon? What does that mean?”

  “There was another call,” I explain. “I presume it preceded the one made to Miss Cooper’s office, and the caller’s purpose was to enquire as to her whereabouts. Your maid asked for the man’s name, but he declined to provide it.”

  Templeton stares at me for a long moment. “What’s going on?” he says eventually.

  “I have no idea,” I reply. “But I do know that Miss Cooper isn’t safe either at her office, or here.”

  “Or between the two places, evidently,” he says, turning to Amelie. “Inspector Stone told me you were followed from work the other evening.”

  “He did?” She looks up at me.

  “He had a right to know,” I explain. “And she has been safe on her journeys to and from work since then,” I add looking back at Templeton. “Because I’ve been taking her.”

  I can see this piece of information registering with him. His mouth opens, then closes and then opens again. “Is that part of the normal duties of a police inspector?” he asks.

  “No, sir.”

  He nods his head slowly. “So am I to assume that your interest in Amelie goes beyond the realms of this case?”

  “If you want to put it that way, then yes,” I reply and Amelie sits up, taking my hand in hers.

  “Our interest in each other goes beyond the realms of Rufus’ case,” she says, her voice the strongest I’ve heard it all evening. “So if you’re going to get cross, get cross with me, not him.”

  Templeton looks at her, then our clasped hands and then at me. I keep my face impassive as he examines me, despite the fact that Amelie’s words have made my heart swell enough to burst, and eventually he turns away and focuses on Amelie again.

  “I’m not going to get cross with anyone,” he says, and I marvel at the softness of his tone. “Providing he makes you happy and treats you well, that is…” He glances at me again and I nod my head in acknowledgement. “But in the meantime, he’s still a policeman and I would like to know what’s going to be done about this current situation.”

  I keep hold of Amelie’s hand and crouch down beside her. “Something tells me that what’s happening to you is connected to my investigations,” I say and become aware of Templeton moving a little closer. “I think someone is trying to distract me, and they’ve worked out a very good way of doing it, because if I’m worried about you, I’m not focusing on doing my job properly.” I give her hand a squeeze. “So, I’ve got an idea.” Well, it’s the beginnings of an idea anyway, but it’s only just occurred to me, and I’m hoping that it’ll come to be more than that as I describe it to Amelie.

  “What’s that?” she asks.

  “We need somewhere safe for you to stay,” I reply. “And we need to make sure that no-one knows your whereabouts.”

  “But where would I go? There’s no-one. I have no family…” The hint of desperation behind her words is heartbreaking.

  “Calm down,” I whisper, interrupting her. “I’m thinking that you could go to stay with my mother and my Aunt Issa.”

  “But I don’t know them.”

  “I know.” I lean in a little closer. “But I promise they’re very nice. They’re just like Dotty, only a little madder.”

  She smiles. “Is that possible?”

  “Yes. Believe it or not, it is. But you’ll find out for yourself, if you agree.”

  “And I’ll be safe there?”

  I nod my head. “Completely. Only you, me, your uncle and Dotty will know where you are.”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Templeton says, “but whereabouts does your mother live?”

  “Not far from Taunton, in Somerset,” I reply.

  “But… but how will I get there?” Amelie starts to stumble over her words, and I bring up my free hand and clasp both of hers in mine.

  “I’ll take you,” I explain.

  “How? You can’t drive me all the way to Somerset…”

  “No.” Not even I’m allowed that much petrol these days. “We can drive up to London and catch the train.” I’m thinking on my feet, but it’s a simple enough plan.

  “What about Aunt Millicent?” Amelie says. “Uncle Gordon has to go back to work after the weekend… so who’s going to be here for her?”

  “Mary and Sarah are here,” Templeton replies quickly, clearly supportive of my idea. “And if necessary, I’ll hire a private nurse.”

  Amelie nods her head slowly. “And my job?” she asks.

  “I’ll speak to Pickford.” Templeton has the answer yet again, bless him. “I’ll tell him you’re not well after what happened to… to Beth, and you need some time off.” He looks at me, for approval, I think.

  “That sounds ideal, sir.” I turn back to Amelie. “So?”

  She hesitates, just for a moment, and then nods her head again. “I’ll go.”

  I sigh out my relief, which I’m sure must be obvious to both of them.

  “What do we do now?” Templeton asks.

  I look down at Amelie. “Do you feel up to packing?”

  “Now
?” she asks.

  “Yes. I think it’s best if you spend the night at Aunt Dotty’s and we leave first thing in the morning.” I turn to Templeton. “She’ll have her own room, sir. I can assure you…”

  He cuts me off, raising his hand. “Amelie trusts you, Inspector, which means I trust you too.”

  I check the time. “I’ve still got some work to do this evening,” I explain. “I have to go and make sure everything’s going alright with our observations at one of the local pubs, but I know you’ll be safe with Dotty.”

  “Safer than here?” Amelie queries.

  “Yes. No-one knows you’ll be at Dotty’s.”

  She nods. “I suppose I’d better go and pack then.” I release her hands, getting to my feet and letting her stand. “I’ll be ten minutes.” She looks at me for a moment, before making her way across the room and leaving quietly.

  I can almost feel my body sag with relief that she’s accepted the plan, and with the consolation that, while the journey tomorrow might be exhausting for me, by the time I get back here in the evening, Amelie will at least be safe and no-one but the four of us – plus my mother and Aunt Issa, of course – will know where she is.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I jump at the sound of Templeton’s voice.

  “Yes, sir,” I reply, turning to face him.

  “You mentioned someone called ‘Dotty’,” he says. “That wouldn’t be Dotty Lytle, would it? Sam’s widow?”

  “Yes… yes it would. I’m her nephew.”

  His mouth drops open and he shakes his head. “Well,” he mutters, “I wish you’d told me sooner.” He looks up at me earnestly. “I’d have been a lot more obliging, if I’d known you were related to Dotty.”

  “You haven’t been disobliging,” I reply generously.

  He smiles. “I think we both know that’s not true.”

  “So, you know my aunt?” I enquire, even though I already know he does. It’s a change of subject which avoids me having to acknowledge that he’s been a royal pain in the neck during most of my investigations.

  “Yes. My family have known Sam’s family for years and… well, Dotty used to look after me when my mother died.” He falls silent for a moment, then continues, “She passed away suddenly when I was five and Dotty and Sam had just got married and lived quite near to here. My father was only a junior officer back then, and he couldn’t afford a full-time nanny, so when he went away on military duty, I used to stay with Dotty and Sam… well, mainly Dotty really, being as Sam was a young diplomat and spent most of his time up in London.”