Daddy Loves Belinda

A Dark Eden Press Publication

www.darkedenpress.com

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Daddy Loves Belinda Copyright© 2007 Anne Sole Edited by Colleen Simpson Cover art by Melissa Sue Hanson Electronic book Publication: October 2007 This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Dark Eden Press, Inc.® 8824 Jeanes Lane, Alvarado, TX 76009 This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Daddy Loves Belinda Ann Sole

Ann Sole

Daddy Loves Belinda

PROLOGUE She was covered in blood when they found her. It had matted into her fair curls, was smeared over her face, hands and legs, and had soaked into her pretty, white dress. Around her mouth, the blood had created a garish, clown-like effect that sent shivers down his spine. She looked like a little vampire, Sergeant Harry Thorpe thought, as though she had rolled in her mother’s blood and drunk from the open wounds. Good grief! What was he thinking? Revulsion swept over him as he realized that his mind was playing the worst kind of trick on him. She was a child – two or three at most. An innocent victim of the madman who had viciously stabbed Janice Creek to death. It was a wonder they had found the child so quickly. Situated at the edge of Sir Melvin Gutteridge’s estate, the cottage was isolated. Janice Creek and her daughter, Belinda, lived there alone, rarely walking the five miles to the village shop in Whitney. Had it not been for the anonymous phone call, the child might have been here with her mother’s corpse for days. As it was, the body was hardly cold. “Poor little mite!” Policewoman Sarah Maddison swept the child up in her arms, carrying her outside to the woman from Social Services, who was waiting to take her to safety. As they passed Harry, the child smiled, an innocent, sweet, beguiling smile. “Daddy loves Belinda,” she said and, for a moment, her eyes looked straight into his, sending a trickle of ice down his spine. Harry Thorpe put a hand to his face, his mind reeling from the horror of too many deaths, too many murders. If he kept on this way, he would be heading for a breakdown. For a moment he’d thought he was looking into the eyes of a killer… but that was madness…

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CHAPTER ONE The sound of the telephone ringing brought me struggling out of a deep, and very satisfying, sleep. Groaning, I reached for the receiver and placed it to my ear. “Yeah…” I muttered groggily. “What time is it? It can’t be two hours since I left you, Steve. Why don’t you let a girl sleep once in a while?” “So that’s why I can never get hold of you!” my sister’s teasing voice answered. “How come you haven’t told me about this sex maniac before?” “April?” I was suddenly wide-awake and bolt upright in bed. “Where are you? When did you ring me? I left loads of messages for you in New York. They said you had disappeared days ago. The magazine people have been ringing me non-stop to ask if I knew where you were.” “I got married…” “You what?!” I held the receiver away, staring at it in disbelief. “Georgie! Are you there?” April said. “You haven’t had a coronary, have you?” “Do you really mean it?” I still couldn’t believe she had really said those words. “You actually got married – with a ring and a white dress and everything?” “A ring and a white dress – at one of those Las Vegas chapels.” “This is my sister – isn’t it?” My sister, April Langley was at the top of her career as a TV presenter, working in the realms of fashion and beauty, which wasn’t surprising because she was very beautiful herself. She’d been born with natural blonde hair, azure eyes and a figure to make the rest of us mortals envious. She had a very popular series, which took seven months of the year to film, and spent the rest of the year traveling to gather her material. She was a very professional woman, and you could usually set your watch by her. If April said she would be in Hong Kong at ten o’clock on Friday morning she was there – which had made it all the more puzzling that she had missed an important interview, with the editor of Vogue Magazine, in New York, three days ago. “How? Why? Who?” I asked and then laughed. “That’s wonderful, love. How long have you known him?” “Six days, fourteen hours and three minutes to be exact.” She giggled and I sensed she was both nervous and excited. “We met on the plane to New York. It was like something out of a movie, Georgie. I just looked into his eyes and that was it. We could hardly keep our hands off one another. If I was into things like that we would have joined the mile high club.” “April!” I wasn’t sure she was joking. I had never known her to sound so excited over anything – especially a man. My sister had been let down a few times, and she’d always sworn she would never marry. “You’ve made me curious. When do I get to meet this gorgeous hunk? I take it he is gorgeous?” “Very much so,” she said. “But that isn’t it – I don’t know how to say it, Georgie. He’s just special to me.” “As long as you’re happy it’s okay with me.” “So happy it scares me,” she said. “I know it can’t last. Nothing this good ever

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does. I suppose it was mad to get married so quickly. I don’t know Juan – but I love him.” “He sounds wonderful. Not English of course.” “South American,” she replied. “Black hair, black eyes that make your insides melt…” “I’ve met the type,” I said cynically. “But you haven’t, that’s just it,” April said. “Juan Rodan is rich, Georgie. He isn’t interested in my money. My salary would be peanuts to him.” “If he is so wealthy, what was he doing on a commercial flight? Shouldn’t he have his own private jet?” “Yes, of course he has,” April said, her tone suddenly sharp, as if she didn’t like me questioning her husband’s motives. “He had his own reasons for traveling incognito. I can’t tell you what they are, because I promised I wouldn’t – but it’s not what you think. Juan has to be careful because of who he is… he isn’t a gigolo or a fortune hunter, believe me.” Maybe it was mean of me, but I couldn’t help wondering why a fabulously rich South American should choose to travel on a commercial flight, even if it was first class. And April’s salary certainly wasn’t peanuts. She was one of the highest paid presenters on British TV – and there were rumors of offers pending from America. My sister was a millionaire in her own right. It all sounded a bit fishy to me, but she was my sister and I loved her. All that mattered was that she should be happy. “I believe you,” I said. “It’s just my suspicious nature as an investigative journalist.” “Why you work for that rag I shall never know,” April said. “I could get you into TV – if you don’t fancy being a presenter, then as a researcher. It would pay twice as much as what you’re getting.” “I like what I do,” I replied. “We work hard Steve and I – and we’re a good team.” “Exposing political scandals and social injustice?” April scoffed. “Why do you bother? People want glamour and excitement, Georgie. They don’t care that Mr. X lost out to Mr. Y, because someone gave a councilor a back hander of a few thousand pounds.” “Maybe you don’t,” I retorted, “but if that councilor has the power to tear down beautiful, ancient woodland and build brick boxes on it, you might – especially if you happened to live near by.” “Is that what you’re working on now?” “It’s one of our lead stories, yes. Steve was down there at the weekend, watching the protestors setting up camp. The wood is on Sir Melvin Gutteridge’s estate near Whitney – that’s a tiny village about fifteen minutes drive from Norwich,” I told her. “Sir Melvin wants to sell and the council has passed it for development – but the locals are revolting.” “Aren’t they always?” She gave a husky laugh. “No, I didn’t mean that – but the locals always protest, don’t they? It’s a case of not in my back yard. If you must build decent homes for other people to live in – do it somewhere else. It’s a bit dogin-the-mangerish, Georgie. They don’t own the wood. Why shouldn’t Sir Melvin do

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what he wants with his own land? He probably needs the money to keep his estate running. I don’t suppose he particularly wants to sell.” “He must be getting a million plus for the land,” I replied. “I dare say it is tempting – but the wood is centuries old, April. If they let him destroy something like that … it’s sacrilege!” “Okay, I surrender,” she said and laughed. “I never could win those arguments with you. What about dinner? You, me, Juan – and the deserving Steve? He hasn’t turned into a sex maniac by any chance?” “No, of course not. We’re good mates - that’s all it ever has been.” “What a pity,” she said, sounding disappointed. “He’s quite good looking. He might not be so bad if he ever lightened up.” “April!” “Okay – he’s perfect,” she cried. “So – dinner? Can you make it this evening?” “Yes, of course. We have to celebrate. Where shall we go?” “Somewhere discreet – where we shan’t be noticed. Antonio’s – just round the corner from you. No one will look for me there,” April said. “Seven-thirty, and make sure you aren’t followed. If the news gets out that I’m married we’ll have photographers all over us, and Juan doesn’t need that. It’s important the Press don’t know where he is at the moment, Georgie – so you must keep it to yourself. Don’t tell anyone we’re married until I give you the word, okay?” “Sure – if that’s what you want. Why all the cloak and dagger stuff, April? Is he a drug baron or something?” “No, of course not,” she said. “Don’t even think about it!” Was I imagining things, or had my sister sounded scared for a moment there? “It was just a joke, love.” “When you live in South America, you don’t make jokes about things like that – and you don’t want to know any more, Georgie, so don’t ask.” “All right, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I doubted your Juan. I’m sure he’s very nice – he has to be or my best mate wouldn’t have fallen for him.” “Yes,” April laughed. “We’ve always been best friends, haven’t we? More than a lot of sisters I know.” Perhaps that was because we weren’t blood related, even though we’d never known that until after Uncle Bill died. I’d always wondered why he had insisted that we shouldn’t know we were both adopted but, when I’d asked her about it, Aunt Jane had said he was frightened we would want to know more about our real parents. Which hardly seemed likely since they were all dead anyway. “We are sisters. No one can take away what we feel for each other, April,” I said because I knew it had hurt her to discover we were not really sisters. She’d been a lot more affected by the revelation than I had, perhaps because I’d felt so secure in my adoptive parents’ love. April had always been a little less certain, more easily upset. “Nothing else matters.” “Georgie…” April sounded a little odd. “I’ve been thinking about all that a lot, recently, and Juan was asking me to tell him about when I was a child…I don’t remember a time before Aunt Jane and Uncle Bill, do you?” “Sometimes…” I sighed, “I have a vague picture of a pretty, fair-haired woman… but I don’t know who she was. Besides, it doesn’t really matter, does it?

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Aunt Jane was our mother in every way that counts.” “Yes, of course. You know I love her as much as you do. How is she?” April asked. “I haven’t been to the nursing home for a few weeks. I can’t bear to see her there.” “Sometimes she’s as bright as a button,” I said. “She knows me and she talks about when we were children … but other times she just sits and stares. It is rather depressing on her bad days.” “But you still go regularly,” April said. “I shall have to soon. As a matter of fact, there’s something I need to ask her.” “Is it important? I could ask her if she’s having a good day.” “No – it’s something I need to do myself,” she replied. “Don’t worry about it, Georgie. It’s just something I’m curious about – not a matter of life and death. I had better go. Juan is signaling that he wants to use the phone – this is his mobile.” “All right,” I said. “We’ll talk this evening.” I put down the receiver. It had been a short call for us. Normally my sister talked for hours on the phone. I wondered why she hadn’t used her own mobile to ring me. There was no point in trying to sleep now; my mind was far too active. I got out of bed and padded naked across to the bathroom door, slipping under the shower to smother myself in my favorite Giorgio gel. I was still toweling down as I returned to the bedroom, my hair wet. I glanced at the photograph on my dressing table. It was of a family of four – Aunt Jane, Uncle Bill, April and me. We were all happy and smiling, on a day-trip to the sea. April must have been about fourteen then, and I was a few months younger. We were so alike at that time that we might almost have been twins. Both of us had soft, fair hair, hers was wavy, mine straight and longer. Both of us had bluish eyes, although hers were more azure and could look green at times. April had always had the most amazing eyes – so expressive! Aunt Jane had teased her, saying that she was like a cat when she was angry. “I sometimes expect your tail to start wagging,” Aunt Jane had declared when April was in one of her tempers. As a child, my sister had been prone to sudden rages. She had grown out of that long ago, but I thought there was still a temper there somewhere. She had it under control these days. We were very much alike. No one had questioned that we were sisters, and we had accepted it as fact, until after Uncle Bill died – and then April had discovered the truth. She’d been dreadfully upset about it at first, not that we were adopted so much – but the fact that we weren’t really sisters. I’d never known why she minded so much. As far as I was concerned we were closer than most sisters, and we loved each other. I wondered what difference April’s marriage was going to make to our special relationship. We had always been there for each other, sharing the good days as well as the bad – phoning at all hours of the day and night, fighting, arguing, laughing, and sharing our lives and our thoughts.

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If I thought about it, I was a little hurt that she hadn’t rung me before to tell me about her plans. I had been anxious about her sudden disappearance, though the magazine people had told me she had rung to cancel her appointment. The editor hadn’t been too pleased about it, and had made rumbling noises about wasted schedules and thoughtless TV celebrities. I had been a bit anxious, and had begun to think about contacting Interpol to find out what had happened to her. Only my sister’s dislike of lurid publicity had held me back. Now she was becoming even more paranoid about the Press, because of her husband! I frowned as I thought about this Juan Rodan – just who was he? And why didn’t he want anyone to know he was in the country? I had to believe he was okay for April’s sake, but I had an uneasy feeling about it in my guts. I’d had the feeling before, when I was working on a story, and I had an idea that there was more going on here than I knew. I’d never heard of Juan Rodan, but if he was a South American millionaire Steve probably would have. There wasn’t much he didn’t know about the wealthy and corrupt of this world. I was reaching for the telephone when it rang. “Hi,” I said, but got no further. “It’s Steve,” my boss said. “Something has happened in Whitney Woods, Georgie. One of the protestors has been murdered. A nasty stabbing by all accounts.” “Murder!” My attention was all his. “What’s the story? Is it to do with the protest?” “The police are keeping quiet about it at the moment. I spoke to someone about it – an Inspector Harry Thorpe – he told me they are making their inquiries but have no statement to make at this present time. You know, the usual crap.” “Yeah…” I frowned. “This is getting nasty, Steve. What’s our angle?” “We’ll print the story we were originally going with, for now,” Steve said. “It might turn out to be a drunken fight between two young men after a night on the booze. We don’t want to cloud the issue – besides, you’ve got that interview fixed with Sir Melvin, so he can put forward his point of view. I don’t want to queer your pitch by raising all sorts of hares that don’t run.” “It’s pretty amazing that he agreed,” I said. “I thought he was going to refuse to speak to me – his secretary is a bit of a dragon. I thought she was going to come back and tell me he wasn’t available. I had to ring six times, before I finally got him – and then he couldn’t have been sweeter. He sounds charming.” “That sort always are,” Steve said. “He can’t be much more than late fifties. You’ll have to watch him, Georgie!” “Don’t be daft! I’m not looking for a sugar daddy.” Steve chuckled. “Knowing you, he would need a ton of it to get past that nasty little intuition of yours.” “Thanks for the compliment,” I drawled. “It’s always nice to know you’re appreciated.” “So you’re off tomorrow then?” Steve said. “You can nose around a bit, find out what you can about this stabbing while you’re there – any nice juicy gossip or tie-ins and we’re away.” “You know Sir Melvin offered me the use of a holiday cottage,” I said. “Why

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don’t you come with me? You could investigate the murder while I interview Sir Melvin.” “Sorry, old love, but I’ve got a funeral on – remember?” “Oh, Steve!” I said regretfully. “I’d forgotten – that’s rotten of me. I ought to have been there, offering you moral support.” Steve’s father-in-law had died after a lengthy illness, and he was going to help his ex-wife through the ordeal. “Other things on your mind?” “Yes. Keep this to yourself, Steve – but April got married to some South American guy. We’re having dinner at Antonio’s this evening … you’re invited.” “Can’t make it,” he said. “Sorry about that, Georgie. Give my best to April. Buy her a good present from both of us and I’ll contribute my share when I see you.” “OK, thanks,” I said. “Do you mind if I’m late in this morning? I should like to do some shopping.” “If you’ve finished your copy, you can send it in online,” Steve said. “There’s no burning need for you to come in at all today – that’s why I rang you. We’ve been working all hours lately. Take a rest, Georgie. I’ve got a sneaking hunch that we’re on to something big. When it breaks, you probably won’t get to sleep for a week.” “Promises, promises,” I said and laughed. “It’s so good to know that I work for a caring, sharing man.” “Your tongue dipped in acid this morning, as usual,” Steve murmured huskily. “Keep it up, Georgie. It’s the reason I love you so much.” “Flatterer!” I put the phone down, smiling to myself. Steve and I were mates. A lot of my female friends thought something must be going on between us. They pulled faces when I told them Steve was just a mate, but it was true. At the start of our working relationship, we had laid our cards on the table. Neither of us were interested either in marriage or an affair at this point in time - Steve because he had just been through a wretched divorce, and me because I was burning with the zeal of a journalist with a mission. There had been men around in my life, of course. A wild fling that came out of nowhere and burnt itself out in a week, but left my heart untouched, and several promising friendships that fizzled out because I didn’t have time for them. It didn’t go down too well that, in the middle of dinner, I might receive a phone call from Steve that sent me dashing hot-footed into the night. One of my dates had told me I was obviously besotted with my boss, but that was nonsense. Steve was attractive enough, with his straight, dark hair that had a habit of falling over his forehead when he was working, his neat gold-rimmed glasses, and his thin, serious face. I was aware that a lot of women found him interesting, but there was nothing but friendship between us. We were both dedicated to our work. And we had something special that casual sex would have destroyed, so it was much better to keep things the way they were. It was good to have a day off, for once. I glanced at myself in the mirror. My hair could do with a trim – and I wanted to buy myself something glamorous for the evening. Steve had told me to buy a nice present for April, and I wondered what she might like. Her apartment, in an exclusive West End building, was already a treasure house – but there was one thing I’d seen that I’d thought she might like for her

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birthday, a small piece of Lalique glass that I’d seen in a Bond Street, antique shop. I smiled as I remembered. It was expensive, but it was exactly what I wanted. ***** I’d never been a shopaholic as far as clothes were concerned. Jeans and a shirt were my normal wear, topped up by as many layers as the weather dictated. However, I did manage to struggle into a decent dress when the occasion demanded, and I wanted to look as if I belonged to April that evening. My sister was always elegant and I couldn’t let her down. I found a simple, black, jersey sheath on my third attempt, and then made my way out into the sunshine and through the crowded streets towards the antiques arcade where I had previously seen the beautiful glass bowl I wanted for April. London was thronged with visitors of all nationalities, most of them seeming in a hurry to be somewhere else. Why I glanced over my shoulder as I turned into the arcade I have no idea, but something was making the nape of my neck tingle. Instinct, intuition, call it what you will, but I had the oddest feeling I was being followed. As I turned, a man stopped to glance in the window of a female fashion boutique. He was tall, dark-haired and dressed in an expensive, pale grey suit, but his face was turned from me. Surely I’d imagined it! He didn’t appear to be the kind of man who followed women. He looked too affluent to be a private detective, and probably wasn’t a stalker. As if to prove my point, he went into the shop. Just out to buy a gift for some lucky woman! I smiled as the relief flooded over me. It wasn’t like me to imagine things, although I had been followed before this. Steve and I had both been followed, at various times. You made enemies in our line of work, and some people would try anything to stop us publishing their dirty, little secrets. “You should try seeing it from their side,” April had told me a few times. “I know you only go after the bad guys, Georgie, but if you had a secret yourself you might not want the world to know about it.” “Then it’s just as well I haven’t,” I’d retorted, “because more than one desperate swindler has tried to nail my hide to the wall. They haven’t had much luck so far.” “But you should be careful just the same. One of these days you might upset the wrong person, and that could be dangerous.” April had given me an odd look, but dropped the argument. I knew she didn’t like what I did for a living, but her work could be even more dangerous. Her phone number was ex-directory but, even so, she’d had to change it three times in the past eighteen months because somehow people had discovered it and she’d received weird calls. She got loads of fan letters, too, from besotted fans who made her all kinds of offers, and she’d been stalked for several months, until the police had finally made an arrest. My man hadn’t been a stalker that morning. He’d just happened to be going my way… at least, I was fairly sure it was coincidence. There was no sign of him when I left the antique arcade, clutching the gift for my sister. I hailed a taxi and

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went home, pleased with my day. As the taxi pulled into the square of Georgian houses, most of which had been converted into flats, I saw the small group of journalists gathered outside one of them and my heart sank. They were waiting for me. Somehow, they must have discovered that April was married and, unable to trace her, they were after me. Flashlights exploded in my face as I paid the taxi driver. “What do you think of the news, Georgie?” “What news?” I asked innocently. “Come on – give us a break! You’re one of us. We’re only doing our job.” I glanced at the man who had spoken. He was three stones overweight, greasy, coarse and a pig. “How are you, Teddy? Why don’t you give me a break? Tell me what’s going on? Have I won the lottery?” “Where is April?” a woman’s voice asked and she smiled at me persuasively. Susie Frobisher and I were friends. We didn’t live in each other’s pockets because neither of us had much spare time, but we met up, now and then, for a coffee and she was one of the few journalists I trusted. “She disappeared for a few days, didn’t she? Now she’s in London and married to a South American billionaire.” “That’s news to me, Susie,” I said, pushing my way through them to my front door. “I’d love to give you a story, but I don’t know anything. I’m sorry.” “Where have you been?” another reporter asked. “What have you been buying?” “A new dress,” I said. “And I’ve had my hair trimmed – and I think I was followed in Bond Street. There’s a scoop for you – Georgina Langley stalked!” “You’re kidding us, aren’t you?” Susie said and grinned. “Yes – but I don’t care if you quote me. Bye, folks!” I let myself in, waving as the cameras popped again. The light on my answer-phone was flashing like mad when I got in. I played it back. The first call was from a man with a rather sexy, husky voice. “Miss Langley,” he said. “This is Fernando Rodan. I must speak to you urgently. Please call me back…” He reeled off a number far too quickly for me to write it down. The rest of the calls were either from journalists or the TV Company. Although couched in varying degrees of politeness, they all wanted to know where April was, and whether or not the news was true. I tried, again, to catch the number of the first caller, but couldn’t. Frustrated, I reset the answer-phone and went to make some coffee. Fernando Rodan – that sounded as if he were some relation to April’s husband. I would have returned his call if I could have, but his accent and swift delivery had made that impossible. Besides, I was feeling a little annoyed. If Fernando Rodan wanted to contact his relative, he shouldn’t need my help! I walked over to the window of my top-floor apartment and glanced out at the street below. The garden, in the center of the square, was bright with color, and the traffic was as noisy and busy as ever – just a normal day, now that the journalists had drifted away. They’d gotten pictures, and a quote of sorts, from me, and I smiled wryly as I wondered what they would make of it.

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Had I been a celebrity, like my sister, I had little doubt that banner headlines would have shrieked the news that I’d been stalked – whether it was true or not. I spent a couple of hours working on some research for various stories, and then went out for an evening paper. I was testing the water, just to make sure there were no sneaky journalists still lurking about. No one followed me this time, and I reached the corner shop without incident, but the headlines made me wince. My picture was all over them, together with a denial that I knew anything about April’s disappearance. Only one of them mentioned the fact that I’d stated I had been followed. It was actually very clever, the way Teddy Husk had managed to link the two, and I smiled in appreciation of his angle – then I saw the last paragraph. He’d linked April’s name with that of Fernando Rodan, whom he implied had contacts with many of the South American drug barons. “Damn you!” I muttered, as I bought the paper and took it home. Was he on his usual fishing expedition – or was there actually a grain of truth in what he was saying? He’d linked April with the wrong man. Were they brothers…cousins…father and son? Of course it didn’t mean Juan Rodan was connected to the drugs racket, even if Fernando might be. But I wouldn’t trust Teddy’s reporting to be accurate; he had been forced to print retractions more times than I could remember. His motto was print and be damned. So far he’d only been sued once, and the publicity had sent his paper’s circulation sky high. “Most people are too damned scared to sue,” I’d heard him boasting, in the pub we all frequented, at times. “If you apologize in print they back down and accept it – most of them are half guilty anyway.” Teddy was the lowest of the low. Steve never printed anything we couldn’t back up with evidence. In any case, we never went after celebrities – unless they also happened to be fraudsters and crooks. Steve was the knight-in-shining-armor of the modern Press, and I was his trusty squire. Teddy couldn’t care less whom he hurt, providing he got his story. One day he’d go too far, and someone would sue his paper for a serious amount of money that would really hurt but, knowing Teddy, he would manage to squeeze out of it somehow. No one followed me home. Feeling relaxed, I ran my bath. If we were lucky we would get through this! The phone rang just as I emerged from the bathroom. It was April, and she was furious. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” “You’ve seen the papers then? I didn’t mention you. They seemed to know more than I did.” “You must have told them. No one else knows. Juan’s phone has special security. My call to you couldn’t have been picked up.” “I’ve told no one anything. It was a joke about the stalker, to put them off the scent – but Teddy managed to make it sound as if there was something mysterious going on. Besides, he got the name wrong, didn’t he?” “Yes…” She had calmed down but still sounded annoyed. “Why did you say

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anything at all? You know what they are.” “They were waiting when I got home. I had to fight my way through. I told you, it was a joke – and they all knew it. I thought it would amuse them, convince them that I really didn’t know anything. They’ve all gone now, so I shan’t be followed this evening.” “We can’t meet now. Juan and I have to disappear again.” “Why? Something is going on – tell me, April!” “Juan’s life may be in danger. Mine too.” “No! Why didn’t you say this before?” “I didn’t want to worry you. Look, it’s being sorted. In a few days it will be over – but we have to hide for the present.” “Why don’t you go down to Norfolk?” I asked as the solution came to me. “I’ve arranged the use of a cottage for a few days. It’s pretty isolated and on Sir Melvin Gutteridge's estate. I’m interviewing him next week. You could say you were me, when you pick the key up from his secretary.” April hesitated, then, “When are you going down?” “Tomorrow afternoon. I’ll book into a hotel and pick up a hire car. We can meet at the cottage later.” “All right. Yes, that sounds okay. It won’t confuse things for you if I pretend to be you?” “No, of course not. I’ll tell Sir Melvin you picked the key up for me – say you’re a friend or something.” “Yes, that would cover it. I’ll see you at the cottage then – not tomorrow, come the next morning.” “Yes, all right. I’m sorry if anything I said caused trouble for you.” “It’s not your fault. Besides, they must have got hold of the story somewhere.” “Who is Fernando Rodan?” “Why do you ask?” “Because he rang me – left his telephone number, but he spoke so rapidly I couldn’t get it down. Have you any idea why he would want to get in touch with me?” April hesitated for a moment, then, “He’s Juan’s brother – and that’s all I’m telling you.” “We’ll talk at the cottage.” “Yes. I have to go now.” “You know where to go?” “Yes – actually I do happen to know of the estate.” She paused, then, “I love you, Georgie. Take care of yourself.” “I love you.” My heart caught as the phone suddenly went dead, and I was aware of feeling very frightened. April was in danger. Every nerve in my body was screaming its message. I was angry with myself for the stupid, careless joke I’d made to the journalists. Even had it been true, I should not have said anything. I just hadn’t dreamed of a situation like this – and yet I had known that something wasn’t quite right.

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I wished Steve hadn’t gone to that funeral. I needed to talk to him, but it had to be face to face. At the moment, I didn’t trust telephones much; they were too vulnerable, too likely to be bugged. Had someone tampered with mine? It had happened once before. Could the Press have picked up on the story from what I’d said to Steve that morning? I hadn’t noticed any odd clicks that might have betrayed some kind of a device, but I would ask my boss to check my apartment before I returned from Norfolk. Steve would sort things out for me. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on him – he’d always been there before when I needed him. At least we could be certain that the cottage would be free from any form of spying technology. Steve wouldn’t have told anyone – would he? The thought crossed my mind that he might have, but I crushed it ruthlessly. Steve never let his tongue run away with him; it was one of the first things he had taught me. Besides, I hadn’t mentioned the name of April’s husband when we spoke. No, it had to have come from somewhere else. Just what was going on behind the scenes? Was April really in danger? And was her brother-in-law mixed up in some kind of drugs racket as Teddy Husk had implied? I thought about the husky voice on my answering machine and my spine prickled. What kind of a man was he? But my imagination was taking over and that was stupid. Stick to the facts, Georgie. That was Steve’s motto and it was a good one, yet I had never been in a situation like this one before. It was all like something out of a nightmare! However, I lived in the real world. Better than most, I knew that, beneath the civilized veneer of our society, there were some very nasty people, and a whole lot of them were willing to go to any lengths when it came to big money. The drug barons were some of the most powerful people in the world, their greedy tentacles stretching out into the heart of every country, sucking the lifeblood from the people. If my sister’s husband was somehow involved in all that filth and corruption, then her life, as well as his, could very well be at risk…

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CHAPTER TWO I awoke with a startled cry, aware that my body was bathed in a fine sweat. My dream had been vivid and disturbing, but I could not remember very much – except that it concerned April. I thought that she had been calling out to me for help but, though I’d tried to reach her, I’d been unable to break through the barrier separating us. Something had happened to her! For a moment the feeling was so strong in me that it made my chest go tight, and I was suddenly gasping for air. The pain was so intense that I felt I like I was dying, but then it eased as swiftly as it had begun, and I sagged with relief. All in my head, of course, that’s what the shrinks would say, because of the dream – and my anxiety before I went to sleep. I’d had what Aunt Jane would call one of my panic attacks. Apparently, I’d been prone to them as a small child, but had grown out of them as I’d matured. I certainly hadn’t had one for a long time. As I headed for the bathroom, I struggled to remember what had been in my mind as I woke. Other than a hazy impression of April’s voice calling to me in distress, there was nothing left. Imagination working overtime! No doubt all the talk of drug rackets and people being killed had given me the nightmare. I had to forget it and get on with the job! I left the flat, half an hour later, dressed in jeans, sweatshirt, trainers and a snazzy pair of dark glasses April had given me once. Travel bag and mobile phone at the ready, my laptop was packed in the sack across my shoulders. My home phone started to ring as I walked away from the door, but the answering service was on and I didn’t go back. April and Steve had my mobile number, and would use it if they needed me. At the moment I wasn’t interested in talking to anyone else. A taxi took me to the station. I bought a plastic cup of half-decent coffee, a sticky bun and a copy of a rival investigation journal for the journey. My thoughts kept returning to the dream – and the strange effect it had had on me. I hadn’t felt like that for years. Why should it happen now? Could April have truly been in danger? As young girls we’d been very close, often thinking alike, sensing each other’s feelings – but I’d never experienced anything as real as that dream. The noise of the train seemed to drum in my head, as we flashed through the towns and countryside, and I saw little but a blur of dirty buildings or distant green fields. As far as I could remember, I’d only been to Norwich, once, as a child. We’d stopped off after a trip to Yarmouth. Aunt Jane had been suffering from a headache, and Uncle Bill had taken us all to a café for fish and chips. Aunt Jane hadn’t wanted to stop there. She’d seemed uncomfortable the whole time, until we were back in the car and on our way home to Wisbech, which was a small town in the heart of the Fens. It was odd, really, that we hadn’t been to Norwich more often, because it was a historic town with a good shopping center. Aunt Jane had always preferred a day out in Cambridge or London. I’d decided to stay at a hotel close to the center of the city, and I took a taxi

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there from the station. The town looked interesting, thronged by holidaymakers as well as the locals, and I wondered why Aunt Jane had disliked it so much. While I was here, I would take some time to explore the cobbled streets and antique shops in the old town. My hotel was quite ancient, too; the rooms had low ceilings with oak beams, and there were thick, rather faded carpets and a dusty atmosphere. Not quite what I’d expected from the advert in the guidebook, but adequate for the amount of time I expected to spend here. If my initial interview with Sir Melvin went well, I should probably talk to him again but, if I found him unwilling to open up, I should transfer my attention to other things. Steve was coming down to join me soon. We’d decided to concentrate on different angles. He was going to interview the protestors, while I worked on the local viewpoint. I also wanted to research the woods themselves, discover their history. If there was a stirring story from the past it would give me a hook to draw the readers in, and make them see why it had to be preserved for its own sake, and not just because it made sense to hang on to every precious inch of what woodland we had left to us. Steve rang just as I was about to go down for lunch. “Where are you?” “I’m in a hotel in the center of Norwich – about to have something to eat.” “Why a hotel?” “I’ll explain another time,” I said. “How did things go for you?” “Bloody awful!” he said. “Petra wept all over me and begged me to forgive her. She has split with Bernard and wants me to give her another chance.” “How do you feel about that?” “I told her there was no chance of it happening, and I felt like the world’s biggest heel. Especially when I discovered that Ron had left me his vintage Rolls. Apparently, it was his dearest wish that we should get back together… according to Petra.” “Oh – poor you,” I said. “It’s hard to contend with that kind of emotional blackmail, but that’s what you get for acting like a good Samaritan!” “Thanks for the sympathy!” “Anytime. Get your ass down here, Steve! I need you.” He chuckled. “Well, that’s told me,” he said. “What can I do for you, Georgie?” “I’ll tell you when I see you. Now, if you’ve finished sobbing into your beer, I’d quite like to eat before they padlock the dining room.” “Right! I’ll be there tomorrow lunch. Keep missing me, Georgie. I like it.” I smiled as I closed down. Steve didn’t need tea and sympathy, he needed to work. His wife was a blackmailer and used every trick in the book to get him to run after her. He swore each time it was the last, but it seemed she had an invisible string on him. Maybe he would manage to cut it now that his father-in-law was no longer lying in pain in a hospital ward. I knew Steve had been very fond of Ron. Maybe he was still a little in love with Petra? I was thoughtful as I went down to lunch. April had asked me to go over in

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the morning, and I supposed she was sort of on honeymoon – some honeymoon! I couldn’t imagine a worse situation than having to stay in hiding. The food turned out to be better than I’d expected, and I worked my way through fresh salmon with prawns in wine sauce, roast beef – and a wicked trifle. I’d always been blessed in that I could eat like a horse and stay rake thin, unlike April who had to diet to retain her fabulous figure. After lunch, I hired a car and decided to try and find my way to Sir Melvin’s estate. It was easy enough following the instructions I’d been given, but I thought I might have missed the turning if I hadn’t known about it. April had told me she knew the estate. I wondered what could have brought her to this place before, but I supposed it was work. She was constantly looking for new locations for her show. I turned up the main drive to the house – a rather impressive example of Queen Anne architecture in red brick; it had odd twisted chimneys, and small windows with grey-leaded glass. Pulling up in front of the main door, I saw there were several other cars parked in the drive, and frowned. Perhaps I ought to have rung first to confirm, but I had been invited for tea this afternoon. I rang the bell. It pealed loudly within the house, but several minutes passed before it was finally answered by a middle-aged woman, who was dressed in a grey skirt and pale mauve cashmere twinset. Her light brown hair was swept back into a knot at the nape, and her severe features were set in an expression of disapproval as her eyes went over me. “If you are from the papers, Sir Melvin has nothing to say.” “He invited me to tea,” I said quickly, before she could slam the door in my face. “I am Georgina Langley.” I had never seen the color go out of someone’s face the way it did out of hers! She looked as if she were going to faint, and clutched at the doorpost to steady herself. “That’s impossible! She picked up the key to the cottage last night.” “That was a friend,” I said. “My sister actually. I asked her to wait for me at the cottage… what’s the matter?” Her expression terrified me. I wasn’t sure why she was staring at me that way, but I did know something was terribly wrong. “You had better come in,” she said in a muffled voice. “Some people are going to want to talk to you.” “What has happened?” Chills were running down my spine and I felt sick as I followed her inside the house, only vaguely aware of its quiet, cool elegance as she led me through the hall to a room at the back of the house and knocked at the door. “Sir Melvin will explain – and there are some other gentlemen who will want to talk to you.” It was quite clear she had no intention of telling me anything. Her manner was aloof, but I couldn’t be sure whether she was disapproving or still in shock. “Thank you…” I hesitated. “Are you Miss Stratton?” She inclined her head regally. “We have spoken on the telephone, Miss Langley – if that is indeed your name. Please go straight in and tell Sir Melvin what you just told me.” She turned away and I had the distinct feeling that she was in a rush to go

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and sit down before she collapsed. What the hell was going on? My nerve ends were screaming by now, and I was beginning to find it difficult to breathe as I entered what was clearly Sir Melvin’s study. Three pairs of eyes stared at me. “Who in blazes are you?” one of the men asked. “I told Miss Stratton no journalists.” “She said I should come in – I’m Georgina Langley. I believe we had an appointment this afternoon, Sir Melvin.” I had recognized him instantly from my research, a man in his fifties, distinguished, ex-army officer type, fair-haired, very much an aristocrat. “If you’re Georgina Langley, who is in that cottage?” Another man asked abruptly. He was the youngest of the three by several years, thin-faced and suspicious. Instinct told me he was with the police. “My sister – April Langley, and her new husband,” I replied. “She needed somewhere to hide from the Press and I suggested she come here. I think her husband may have wanted to keep his presence in this country a secret. Has something happened?” I must have sounded calmer than I felt, for the men looked at each other as if wondering what they ought to do next. “April Langley?” the third man spoke at last. He was in his late forties, darkhaired, of medium build and height, with a slightly worn look about him, both in his face and his dress. “She’s a TV presenter I believe?” He came towards me, suddenly the one in control. “I’m Inspector Harry Thorpe, Miss Langley – and I think you ought to sit down. I am afraid we have some bad news for you.” “Something has happened to April, hasn’t it? Miss Stratton looked as if she were going to faint when I told her who I was – and I’ve had this feeling ever since I woke up…” I resisted the Inspector’s urging to sit down and looked him straight in the eye. “Please tell me, is she hurt?” “A woman and a man – probably South American – were found two hours ago. They had both been shot several times. The man was killed instantly, the woman managed to crawl to her husband’s side, but died soon afterwards.” “No!” I staggered back as a wave of horror rushed over me. “When – when were they shot?” He frowned. “Is that important at this moment?” “I have to know. You said she didn’t die at once…” “We don’t know for sure – but possibly early this morning. She couldn’t have suffered long if that’s what’s bothering you.” “She called to me…begging for help…” I could feel the choking sensation in my chest again, and a blackness in my head. All of a sudden I was losing control, falling… “Look out! She’s going to faint.” “Miss Langley!” The voices and faces were a blur as I fell. I think someone caught me, but I couldn’t be sure. Several minutes must have passed before I woke to find myself lying on a sofa, looking up at the anxious face of an attractive woman. “Are you better, Miss Langley?” she asked. “What fools men are! To tell you such terrible news so coldly…”

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I groaned and tried to sit up, but she placed a gentle hand against my shoulder. “Rest for a moment, my dear. Have a few sips of water and you will soon feel better.” I accepted the glass from her and took a few sips of the water. She was perhaps a year or so older than me, dark-haired, slim and gentle mannered. I wondered how she fitted into Sir Melvin’s household, for he was childless, his only son having been killed in a car accident, some years previously. “Thank you.” I handed her the glass back. “I was expecting something, but it was still a shock.” “A terrible, terrible shock,” she agreed, directing a look of disgust at Inspector Thorpe. “I’m Brenda Stratton. My aunt told me you were here and I came at once, but I was too late to prevent you being given the news so cruelly. My aunt ought to have prepared you, but you must forgive her because she was just too upset to know what she was doing. Please forgive us for letting you walk into all this.” I sat up rather gingerly and glanced at the three men, who seemed to be having an argument about me. “You can’t possibly interview her now,” Sir Melvin was saying angrily. “The poor girl is far too distressed. You must wait until tomorrow.” “No!” I said quickly. “If I can I want to be of help – the sooner you know what you’re looking for, the sooner you can get the bastards who did this. I’m all right now. Ask away, Inspector – but I won’t get up for a moment, if you don’t mind.” “Good girl,” he said and came over to the settee, bringing a single chair with him. He sat down so that I didn’t have to strain to look up at him. “Now – tell me what you know about this, Miss Langley, and why you were expecting something to happen.” “I don’t know much, but I’ll tell you everything that April told me.” I explained about the phone call telling me my sister had got married to a man she hardly knew, about the reporters waiting for me, and April’s desperation to escape them. “She definitely said both her husband’s and her own life could be at risk?” Inspector Thorpe asked, his forehead furrowed, “but you don’t know why?” “I think Juan Rodan – or his brother Fernando – may have some connection with a South American drug cartel. It was implied in an article Teddy Husk wrote in the evening paper last night. April denied that her husband was involved, but she wouldn’t tell me why he was so desperate to remain incognito.” “It didn’t look like a professional hit to me…” the younger policeman spoke, but subsided as Inspector Thorpe glared at him. “Sorry, Miss Langley, I’m not doubting your story.” I swallowed hard as I took in the implication of his words. “How many times were they shot? No, don’t worry, I’m not going to pass out on you again. I’m usually pretty tough.” “She was shot at least three times,” the sergeant told me and received a black look from his Inspector. “Her husband twice, at close range.” “Bryne!” “Sorry, sir – but she asked…” “I’ve read your work,” Inspector Thorpe went on as his companion sank into

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a subdued silence. “You strike me as being a level-headed young woman. I’m inclined to think there may be a lot of truth in your theory, but we shall keep an open mind. Now – is there anymore you can tell us?” “No, I don’t think so. If I remember anything…” “You can phone me on this number whenever,” he said, and wrote a mobile number for me on a scrap of paper. “I’m very sorry about your sister, Miss Langley. Where are you staying for the moment?” I named my hotel, but almost immediately Sir Melvin overrode me. “I think Miss Langley should stay with us for a few days,” he said, looking at me with real concern. “Unless you wish to return to London? But I don’t think you should be alone – What do you say, Brenda? Miss Langley would be safer with us, don’t you agree?” “Oh yes, of course,” she responded, giving me one of her gentle looks. “If you feel that would suit you, Miss Langley. I could drive over to Norwich and collect your things for you.” I was about to refuse when I remembered why I was there. It was a chance I couldn’t miss, even though all I wanted at that moment was a bolthole to hide in. “I’ll collect my own things,” I said. “It’s kind of you to offer, Miss Stratton, but I’m really all right now. However, I shall accept your offer, Sir Melvin. When the news gets out… I’ll be hounded by the Press. Oh…” I met his steady grey eyes. “Perhaps you hadn’t thought about that? If I stay here they will be all over you.” “I imagine we can cope,” he said, and there was an odd, wintry look in his eyes. “It isn’t the first time – and Miss Stratton is a bit of a dragon. Brenda’s aunt, not Brenda, of course. I’ve relied on her to defend me for years and she has never failed me yet.” “I’ll be going then,” Inspector Thorpe said. “There’s nothing more we can do here today but if anyone saw or heard anything strange – and I don’t mean just the shots…” “I think we understand you,” Sir Melvin said and I was aware of a faint hostility between them. “Can you see yourselves out? Good. You know where we are if you should need us.” He nodded as the Inspector and his sergeant prepared to leave. “Brenda – I imagine Miss Langley could do with some tea or, perhaps, something stronger?” “Just tea for me please,” I answered him without even knowing what I was saying. I was switched on to autopilot, going through the motions. Any moment I would wake up and discover that this was a nightmare. “Yes, of course, Melvin.” Brenda smiled at him. “I’ll see to it at once. I’m so glad you’re going to stay with us, Miss Langley – or may we call you Georgina?” “Georgie, please,” I said. Brenda was the one solid thing I could hang on to here. A nice, pleasant, normal woman, who could be trusted in this place of shifting sands. She nodded and looked pleased, then left the room. I glanced at my host, beginning to see him properly for the first time. He was still an extremely attractive man and must have been a stunner once. “This is very good of you, Sir Melvin – especially, as you know, I’m not exactly on your side over this building development.” “But I am hoping to convert you to my point of view,” he said, giving me a

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charming smile. “We shan’t get into all that just now, Georgie. And you can drop the sir, if you wish. I don’t care for the formal address when amongst friends. And there is no reason why we should not be friends, is there? I want to do all I can for you, while you are here. I am devastated that such a terrible thing should have happened to your sister on my estate.” “That is very kind of you,” I said. “I’ll try to remember in future, though it will take some getting used to. You’re Sir Melvin in my thoughts.” I gave a slightly nervous laugh. He was supposed to be the enemy and I was down here to discover what was happening over his woodland, and to dash his plans for the housing estate if I could. He wasn’t supposed to be kind to me, and I wasn’t supposed to be on first name terms with him. Steve would tell me I was a fool to feel grateful to him just for being there – but somehow I had been comforted by his kindness. I was still feeling numb, bewildered. The terrible news had thrown me completely and I hardly knew what I was saying or doing. “I’m sorry, if I’m talking nonsense here. I know what has happened, but one part of my brain is telling me this can’t be true…” I caught the sob in my throat. “I can’t believe April is dead… just like that.” “It’s very hard to accept violent and sudden death,” he agreed and looked at me with sympathy. “I’ve experienced it more than once and I can tell you that it never gets any easier. One learns to live with the pain, but it’s always there in the back of one’s mind.” “Yes, I suppose so…” My eyes were misted with the tears I refused to shed. “We were very close.” April had been dying as I sensed her calling for me. That hurt. If I’d only done something! Perhaps she might have lived, if she’d been taken to a hospital sooner. But Inspector Thorpe had told me she couldn’t have suffered long. I had to hold on to that thought. “Would you prefer to be alone?” Sir Melvin asked. “Yes, I think so…” Brenda had returned with the tea tray. She poured me a cup, and then, at a signal from Sir Melvin, they both went out. I took a couple of sips from the delicate porcelain, before setting it down. I could feel it choking me, and I knew I had to get out. There were French windows leading out into the back garden. I opened them and went outside, gulping in the fresh air. The pain was beginning to make itself felt. I headed for my car. What I needed was an hour or two alone, and then I would be able to face up to what I had to do. ***** The drive back to Norwich was a bit hazy. I was probably a menace to innocent road-users, because I was going through the motions without really knowing what I did, but I got there without killing anyone and reached the privacy of my room before the tears began. Once started, I lay and sobbed for nearly an hour, and then I got angry. Damn Juan Rodan for putting April’s life at risk! Him and his rotten brother both! I was furious that my beautiful, lovely sister had been murdered so senselessly.

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Why? Why had they done it? She didn’t know anything about the filthy rackets they were involved in! She had been a lively, enchanting, bright star and given pleasure to many through her work – and now she was dead, and I wasn’t the only one who was going to feel robbed and cheated. My body ached all over. I felt as if I had been flattened by a steamroller as I headed for the shower. Twenty minutes later, I was dressed and ready to return to Sir Melvin’s house. Life had to go on and I had a job to do. Grief was threatening to overwhelm me, but I wasn’t going to just lie down and give in to this pain. I was going to fight it, and the best way I knew how was to lose myself in my work. While I was on the estate, I intended to discover all I could about the last hours of my sister’s life. I hadn’t been that impressed with the initial reaction from the local police – and I wanted those bastards caught! I knew it wasn’t often that the police managed to catch a professional hitman – but the younger one hadn’t seemed to think the shootings matched that scenario. I was packing the last of my things, when someone knocked at the door of my room. Imagining it was the maid, I opened it to discover a man standing there – a stranger. Fear made me react instantly, by trying to slam it shut again, but he thrust it back and me with it. Gazing into his menacing, dark eyes, I thought I was about to die. “Who the hell are you?” I croaked. “There’s no point in murdering me, too. I don’t know anything.” He locked the door after himself. I gasped, and looked desperately for a weapon to use against him as he reached into the breast pocket of his suit – and brought out an identity card. “I have no intention of killing you, Miss Langley,” he said calmly, and I recognized the husky voice from my answer-phone. “If you had bothered to contact me as I asked, both your sister and my brother might still be alive.” “You’re Fernando,” I said without giving more than a glance at his identity card. “And you were following me yesterday…” “I saw you quite by chance,” he replied, eyes cold and accusing. “I did follow you for a few minutes, because I was tempted to introduce myself, but I wasn’t completely sure you were Georgina Langley.” He frowned as I stared in stubborn disbelief. “I’ve seen your column. The photograph doesn’t exactly flatter you.” “I didn’t want it to – too many cranks about these days.” “Yes, young women do need to be careful these days. I think stalking is a modern disease. Something your sister must have suffered more than once, I expect?” I nodded, looking at him suspiciously. “Are you trying to say it was a stalker who killed them? April told me her husband’s life was in danger – hers too, because she married him.” “She told you that?” I nodded. “Then Juan must have realized his cover was blown. I was trying to contact him. He should have phoned me, asked for protection.” “What are you talking about?” His eyes narrowed intently. “You think my brother was mixed up in

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something illegal – to do with drugs?” “They say you have contact with many of the drug barons. Do you deny that?” I stared at him accusingly, all my anger over April’s death focused on him now, hating him. “No. I have never denied it. They are powerful men, Miss Langley. If one has a monster in one’s midst, one ignores it at one’s peril. I am not in business with them, but I know the families and I give them respect – it is the only way to live and work in my country.” I felt the disgust rise in my throat as bitter as gall. “How can you stand there and admit you respect such filthy devils – after they have just murdered your brother and my sister?” His gaze intensified, becoming colder. “I didn’t come here to justify my actions to you, Miss Langley. I came to see if you were in trouble and needed help.” “Thank you, but you could have saved yourself the trouble!” “You may be in more danger than you imagine – if this was the work of Juan’s enemies. My brother knew what he was doing, Miss Langley. I believe he would have told April to leave him if he thought there was any danger. If she chose not to that was her privilege.” “So that makes it all right?” I was furious. “Well, I wish to God April had never met your brother – and the same goes for you, Mr. Rodan. Get the hell out of my life and stay out. I don’t need you or your help.” He looked at me hard, before inclining his head. I thought I saw a flicker of something in his eyes – humor… respect? It didn’t matter. I just wanted him to go. He hesitated, before handing me a business card. “You didn’t return my call, and you don’t want my help – but you may wish to talk one day. I expect to be in London for a while. This number will reach me here or in New York – which is where I shall go when I’ve settled what needs to be done here.” I wanted to spit in his face, but I took the card. We might need to talk about certain arrangements. “Remember I want to help,” he said. “In any way I can. Please believe me.” Something in his manner got through to me and I recognized his sincerity. “What about the funeral?” The words were forced out of me. “Juan’s body will go home – as soon as the authorities will release it. He would want that.” “April might not.” “I am afraid it isn’t her choice – or yours.” “She was his wife.” “So I have been told. Unfortunately, my brother was already married.” “You’re lying!” I stared at him in horror. “I am not in the habit of lying, Miss Langley. I believe Juan thought his divorce was final. Unfortunately, there were some complications and it had not yet come through. The ceremony he went through with your sister was therefore not legal.” “The cheating bastard!” I yelled, losing it. “He cheated her and then he killed her. It was his fault – or yours. Go away before I call the manager and have you thrown out, Mr. Rodan.”

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“You are angry and hurt,” he said. “When you have calmed down you will realize this is foolish talk.” I reached for my mobile as he unlocked the door and went out, but I wasn’t ringing the hotel management or the police. I wanted Steve! He was the only one I could trust – but his mobile wasn’t answering. I dialed again and left a message on his voicemail. “Where the hell are you, Steve? I need you!” I felt like weeping in frustration, and I wished I had done something physical to Fernando Rodan – like drop a ten ton weight on him from a great height! ***** Later that evening, alone in the comfortable, rather elegant bedroom I had been given at Whitney House, I calmed down enough to realize that nothing I could do to Fernando Rodan would touch him. He was wealthy and powerful and, even if I could dig up some dirty stuff on him, it would probably only cause ripples in his pond. I hated him and his kind. They used everything and everyone – just as his brother had used April. He’d had no right to marry her and endanger her life! And if they weren’t even married… the thought was so galling that it almost choked me. April had been so happy, so sure that Juan loved her. If he had, he would surely have been more careful. If he were mixed up in something dangerous he could have been more thoughtful of her. Why had he dragged April into his nasty little world? “It was like something out of a movie… we couldn’t keep our hands off one another…” Perhaps they had been swept along by an emotion so powerful that they just couldn’t control it? I sighed as I realized that I would probably never know the truth. April was dead and nothing was going to bring her back. I was brought out of my reverie by the striking of a gong downstairs. That must mean dinner was about to be served, and I had to put on a show. Maybe I would have been better off alone, but I didn’t want to return to London just yet – and something had drawn me back here. I needed to see more of the estate so that I could begin to settle things in my mind. I left my room, making my way along the landing and down the wide, rather imposing staircase. I was more aware now of the house. It was furnished with costly antiques; the various tables and chests in the large hall gleamed with polish, giving off a faint odor of lavender. The whole house had a pleasant, welcoming atmosphere that I liked. I paused for a moment, wondering where I should go – and then I heard the voices. “You should never have agreed to it.” “He suggested it – what could I say? It’s his house.” “But she’s a journalist. She’ll poke her nose into everything. It could spoil…” Brenda and Miss Stratton emerged into the hall and stood staring at me. I sensed her hostility at once. “Oh, Miss Langley. I was about to send Brenda in search of you. I

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do hope you are feeling better?” “Yes, thank you.” “I must apologize for the way I behaved earlier. I was just so shocked when you said you were Georgina Langley.” “Yes, it must have been a shock for you after what had happened…” “But not as bad as it was for you,” Brenda said, giving her aunt a look that was clearly a warning. “Please come into the drawing room, Georgie. We usually have a sherry before dinner. Old-fashioned of us, I suppose, but we rather like it – don’t we, Aunt Mary?” “Yes. Sir Melvin likes everything to be ordered, and sherry before dinner is so civilized – don’t you agree, Miss Langley?” “I suppose it must be,” I agreed, “though personally I’m a whisky and water girl myself.” Miss Stratton looked at me with undisguised horror, but I thought Brenda might secretly agree with me. Neither of them said anything, as Mary Stratton led the way into the drawing room. It was a beautiful room, elegantly furnished in cool colors of pale rose and duck egg blue and cream, and highlighted here and there with faded gilt tassels and ormolu mounts. Sir Melvin was standing by the sideboard, on which was a tray with several different drinks. I sighed with relief, as I realized there was more than sherry on offer, and I didn’t hesitate when he asked me what I would like. He smiled approvingly as I told him. “I think I shall join you, Georgie,” he said. “I must admit to a certain partiality for whisky myself – though sherry has its merits.” He smiled at Miss Stratton as if he thought he ought to soothe her ruffled feelings. “Please, come and sit next to me, my dear. I do hope you are feeling a little better now?” “Yes, I am – thank you.” I sipped my drink and nodded in appreciation of its smoothness. “Lovely. I was wondering if we could have our interview sometime tomorrow?” “Yes, of course – if you are sure you feel up to it?” “I think I shall feel better once I’m working. I also need your permission to go where I like on the estate.” “Granted, of course – though you will want to avoid the cottage?” “No. I want to see it – to discover what happened for myself. I always think it is best to face up to things – no point in pretending something hasn’t happened, when it has.” My eyes stung with the tears I was keeping at bay. Had I been on my own, I might have fallen apart again, burrowing into my lair to lick my wounds like an injured animal, but coming here had made it necessary to put on a front. He wrinkled his brow. “You are very brave, Georgie – but please don’t put yourself into any danger.” “No, of course not,” I said. “You are very thoughtful, Melvin, but I am sure that whoever killed my sister and her husband has no interest whatsoever in me.” “You cannot be certain of that. Sir Melvin is very right to urge you to be cautious. One never knows where danger may lie, Miss Langley,” Miss Stratton said, surprising me. She was looking at me oddly, but before I could think of a suitable

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reply Brenda suggested that we move into the dining room.

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CHAPTER THREE It was impossible to sleep in a strange bed, even though in normal circumstances I would have found it comfortable, quite modern in décor, clean and fresh. Perhaps it was being in the country, when I was used to the hum of a city that never slept – or just that grief is always harder to cope with in the dark hours. I lay awake for a long time, before I sat up, holding the covers about me and listening to the old house creaking and groaning. It was easy to understand why people thought ancient buildings were haunted; the sounds could be interpreted in all manner of ways. Footsteps, whispers, stairs creaking… someone in my room. I could hear all these things, but commonsense told me it was merely wind sighing through nooks and crannies in the eaves. It was quite windy outside now. A branch had been tapping against my window for ages, and I heard a few spots of rain rattle on the glass. “Georgie… help me…” I went cold all over as I heard the anguished whisper. Surely that was April’s voice? I had heard it so clearly, and it had sounded as though she were in the room with me. But she was dead… It couldn’t be her. I strained listened harder in case the whisper came again but, of course, it didn’t. Imagination, stress, grief… all of them combined to play their tricks on my mind. I had never believed that it was possible to contact the spirits of the departed – but, all of a sudden, I found myself wishing it were. “Tell me who did this to you,” I said, fiercely, into the darkness. I was aware of a burning desire to punish whoever had murdered my sister. It was stupid; the sane, analytical half of my mind was telling me that even the police were unlikely to trace professional killers. If it had been a professional hit the probability was that they were long gone – and there was no certainty that it had been a contract killing, because it could well have been some nutter on a rampage. The only thing that was certain was that my sister had been brutally murdered. “April … April,” I muttered brokenly. “Tell me I’m dreaming – that this hasn’t happened.” It was the frustration that was so hard to bear. Death was so final, and there was nothing I could do that would bring her back. Maybe if she hadn’t come here she might still be alive – and yet it might have happened anywhere. Finding it impossible to sleep, I got out of bed and went over to the window. The sky was just beginning to get light, and I realized it would soon be morning. I felt the need to walk. My thoughts were so confused, churning about in my head like so many bits of colored paper in a kaleidoscope. Now that the first numbing shock had worn off, I was analyzing what had happened and something was bugging me. I couldn’t place exactly what was worrying at my brain, but something wasn’t right. I felt that I was looking at one puzzle that had somehow gotten muddled up with another – yet why should I feel that? I couldn’t think in this house! I needed to be out in the fresh air. I wanted the release that comes from hard physical exercise! Pulling on my jeans and a sweater, I went downstairs to Melvin’s study and opened the French windows – and then all hell let loose. Lights started flashing and

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there was a horrible wailing sound. For a moment I was stunned, and then I realized I had set off an alarm system. I went back into the hall as Melvin came down the stairs wearing a rather elegant dressing gown in black and gold. He was followed by Miss Stratton in pink – and Brenda, fully dressed in a plain, navy dress with a neat white collar. “I’m so sorry,” I apologized before anyone could say anything. “I wanted to go for a walk and I didn’t realize that opening the French windows in your study would set off an alarm, Melvin.” “Good grief!” he ejaculated. “We must have forgotten to warn you.” He smiled his relief. “Thank goodness that’s all it was – after recent events I was wondering what was going to happen next.” “Yes, I’m sure it was a shock for everyone. I really am very sorry for waking you all like this.” “I was just about to come down and switch it off,” Brenda said, and gave me a gentle but reproving look. “I thought you might be up early. You look terrible, Georgie. I don’t think you’ve slept at all.” “No – not very well,” I said, feeling that I had to apologize again. “I suppose I’m used to town and it’s so quiet here – you hear all kinds of noises.” “Yes, I felt like that when I used to stay here as a child,” she agreed. “But I find it so relaxing these days. It’s wonderful to lie and listen to the dawn chorus on a summer morning…” “Yes, I’m sure it must be,” I said. Melvin had gone to switch off the alarm and telephone the police. “We have to ring them at once or they will come charging up here,” he told me, when he had finished. “We’ve had a couple of break-ins, in the past ten months or so, which is why we have such an efficient system.” “I should imagine you need it,” I replied. “You are a bit isolated out here.” “Yes, I suppose it must seem that way to you,” he said. “I’ve lived here for most of my life, so it doesn’t bother me that much. It isn’t always easy to hold on to staff though – which is why I was so delighted when Brenda took on the task of keeping the house running as beautifully as her aunt has always kept my business affairs.” He gave her a look of approval and I saw a faint color in her cheeks. Was Brenda a little bit in love with her charming employer? I had definitely sensed something on her side. He was several years her senior, of course, but a very attractive man – and there was the money, always a help. No, that was my cynical mind at work again. “Well, having got you all up, I think I’ll go for my walk.” “Do you think you should?” Brenda asked, looking at me anxiously. “It’s only just light. Hardly anyone will be about yet.” “I think I’ll be safe enough,” I replied. “I can’t imagine why the men who murdered my sister and her husband should be interested in me.” “Oh, but…” Brenda hesitated and looked awkward. “If it was to do with a South American drugs racket, of course, but had you thought…it might be something very different.” “You mean someone who wanted to kill April? A jealous lover or a stalker or some crank? None of them are likely to be interested in me either.”

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“Well…” She glanced at Melvin, who seemed to frown at her. “No, I suppose not. Just be careful, Georgie, that’s all.” “Yes, I will,” I said and smiled at her. She was really quite pleasant in her old-fashioned way, which came from living here so quietly with her aunt I supposed. Miss Stratton seemed to be stuck in a 1950”s time mode, and I was sure Brenda’s life must be rather dull in this house. Her plain, sensible clothes reflected her position as the housekeeper here, but she would look sensational dressed in something a little more trendy. “What time do you serve breakfast? I don’t want to put anyone out while I’m here.” “Oh, any time from half-past seven to eight,” she said, “but don’t worry if you don’t feel like coming in at exactly that moment. I can always cook you something when you feel hungry. You didn’t eat very much last night.” “I wasn’t hungry,” I said, “but I am this morning. I’ll be here by a quarter to eight.” I glanced at Melvin, who was giving me one of his concerned looks again, and then made my escape. It was very kind of them all to fuss over me, but so unnecessary. I very much doubted that my life was in danger – even though I had been scared when Fernando Rodan burst into my room the previous day. That had been caused by his high-handed manner. Why couldn’t he just have said who he was, and asked to come in, for goodness sake? My anger had cooled somewhat, but I still didn’t feel very kindly towards Juan Rodin’s brother. He was arrogant, overbearing and too damn sure of himself. I walked away from the house towards the woods. The cottage where April had been murdered was in another direction entirely. I would summon enough strength to visit that later but, for the moment, I wanted to look at the lovely old wood that had brought me to this place. At first I was disappointed. The woods I came to at the beginning were mostly conifers, which had probably been planted not much more than fifty years earlier, and were almost certainly grown for timber. They could cut these with my blessing. It was only when I came to the start of the old woodland that I felt the magical peace reach out to enfold me. Here there were oak and ash, hazelnut, beech, and elms that had survived against the odds… all the trees of ancient England. It was the kind of wood that Merlin might have visited to cast his spells, where men had hunted the noble lord’s deer, and lovers met to be alone. All kinds of wild flowers would grow here, and there must be a variety of birds and small animals, rarely seen in the countryside these days. I felt passionately that this place must be protected – and, somehow, it had become mixed up with April’s death in my mind. It was almost as if blood had been spilled in sacrifice to the old gods. I shivered, and dismissed the thought as macabre and disgusting. April’s death had been ordered by some fat pig, sitting on a pile of money made from peddling filth! I had reached the end of the ancient woodland, when I saw the ruin. It must once have been an attractive cottage, but the roof had holes in it, and there were briars growing through cracks in the walls. I thought there might have been a fire here at some time, because one wall was blackened with smoke.

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Curiosity made me go closer. It was sad to witness the neglect, though now I could see that, although the door had once been boarded up, someone had broken it open – and quite recently. “What do you want?” I jumped as I heard the girl’s voice, and turned to face her. She was young – no more than seventeen and, from her clothes, a member of the hippie fraternity, her fair hair hanging about a thin, pale face in greasy plaits. “We’re not doin’ any harm. We’ve told the police we don’t know nuthin’ about the stabbin’…” “I’m not from the police,” I said. “I’m a journalist, writing about the protest over the woods earmarked for development.” “What is it, Rose?” A young man in his twenties had come out of the cottage and stood glaring at me. “We ain’t done nuthin’.” “I was just curious about the ruin,” I said. “I’m not here to bother you.” “She’s here about the protest, Greg.” “That lot! Troublemakers, that’s all they are – we live here.” “In this ruin?” “It’s dry in parts, isn’t it, Greg?” the girl he had called Rose said. “’Sides, we ain’t got a hope of nuthin’ else. Even if they build them new houses we couldn’t afford them prices.” “Him what owns this place don’t care about us bein’ here,” Greg said. “He knows we’re here, but he never comes near – on account of the bloody murder what happened here, I expect.” My spine was crawling with chills. “You’re not talking about the recent stabbing, are you? Or – or the shooting…” I felt sick and clammy for some reason as he shook his head. “There was a woman stabbed to death here twenty years ago,” Rose told me. “She had a little girl called Belinda. People said she was Sir Melvin’s bit on the side. Janice Creek her name were. He were married then, and runnin’ for MP. Didn’t get in, though. My ma always said folk thought he had somethin’ to do with the murder.” “That’s daft talk, Rose,” Greg said. “Sir Melvin’s all right. He could have chucked us off his land weeks ago, but he didn’t – gave me some odd jobs to do earlier in the year an’ all.” Rose sniffed. “I weren’t born then, but my Ma remembered all the scandal. There was talk of an arrest, then one of the coppers in charge of the case was ill, and the whole thing was brushed under the carpet and forgot for a while. About a year later they arrested a bloke they found sleepin’ rough, and were goin’ to charge him, but he hanged himself in police cells. Some people reckoned there were something funny about that an’ all.” My spine tingled as I sensed a story here. “That’s interesting, Rose,” I said and smiled at her. “Could I talk to your mother, do you think? I should like to hear more of what she remembers about this.” “Ma died last winter,” Rose said and wiped her runny nose on the sleeve of her grubby cardigan. “That’s why we’re here. She had a tied cottage. The farmer let her stay on after Dad were killed in an accident on the farm but, after she died, he said he needed the cottage and we had to go.”

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“That’s rotten luck,” I said. “Wouldn’t the council house you?” “We’re on the list,” Rose said and glanced at her partner. “But Greg prefers it here. He says there’s too many interferin’ social workers on the estate.” Greg glared at her, clearly thinking she’d already told me too much. “It was nice talking to you, Rose,” I said. “I’ll come again another day if I may?” “Yeah – if you want to,” Rose said, and I caught the odd pleading look in her eyes, realizing that she needed contact with the outside world, even if Greg didn’t. “But I can’t tell you much more.” “That’s okay. We’ll just have a chat about things in general. Is there anything I can bring for you?” Rose hesitated, glancing at her partner again, then shook her head. “No thanks. We manage okay.” I nodded and moved away, resisting the urge to look back. Rose’s information was news to me. I’d done some research on Whitney Woods, and a very little on its owner, but obviously I hadn’t gone back far enough. The story about the development had only broken a few days before I’d arranged to come down here and, as yet, I’d hardly got started. I hadn’t really planned a character assassination for Sir Melvin, but I’d done enough research to discover a personal tragedy in his life. His son had been killed in a car crash; the unofficial verdict was that he had been guilty of dangerous driving while under the influence of drugs. That was one of the reasons why I’d been surprised that he had agreed to speak to me about selling his land. I would have expected him to hate the Press after some of the stuff they had written about his son. Steve might have caught a whisper about the old scandal, though. He’d sounded as though he was on to something, when he’d told me about the recent stabbing – and now I understood why. The death of one of the protestors was, perhaps, just the result of a drunken argument between two young men – but there was always a chance it might be connected to the old, unsolved murder. Come on now! I scoffed at the way my imagination was leaping to conclusions. It was highly unlikely that they were linked. The fact that the case was unsolved did hold possibilities for a story, and some creativity could make it appear there was a connection. Teddy Husk wouldn’t hesitate to use the angle, but I would need more evidence. Dragging up the old story might cause distress to Sir Melvin, especially if there had been a lot of gossip and speculation at the time. Obviously, the police hadn’t managed to make a case against him – or anyone else. The man who had hanged himself before he could be charged might not have had anything to do with the murder – again, it was just speculation and hearsay. I would certainly do my research on the old crime. It might add spice to our story, though I was oddly reluctant to do anything that could harm Sir Melvin. Was I going soft… losing my edge? I ought to have turned down his invitation to stay in his house, of course, but I liked him and his house. I felt oddly at home there, though it was way out of my league. Steve would think I had lost my marbles! Maybe it was just grief that had made me reluctant to abuse Sir Melvin’s hospitality.

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It was odd that so many murders should have happened in the vicinity of Whitney Woods, though, and it made sense of my host’s rather odd statement the previous evening. I should imagine he might feel pretty devastated if yet another young woman were killed on his estate. Of course, the shootings were entirely different; they could have happened anywhere. Two cases of death by stabbing – even though twenty years apart – could, with a stretch of the imagination, be made to appear linked, but the deaths of my sister and her husband were something very different. The feeling I’d had in the woods came back to haunt me as I made my way towards the house. I struggled against it, telling myself that it was ridiculous to make any sort of a connection. April and Juan Rodan had been killed on the orders of ruthless South American drug barons! ***** After breakfast, Melvin invited me into his study to talk. I took my tape recorder with me, but didn’t switch it on immediately. “So, you’ve seen the woods – what do you think of them, Georgie?” He looked at me with barely disguised eagerness. “Magical,” I replied. “Surely you can’t want to destroy them? I can hardly believe you were given permission to build there.” “I wasn’t, not officially,” he said and smiled. “It was what you might call a bit of a cock-up – a mistake. The ancient woodland is perfectly safe. My intention is to cut the conifers for wood and then sell that parcel of land.” I stared in stunned disbelief, feeling as if the ground had been snatched from beneath my feet. “If that is the case – but I’ve seen the maps. It definitely shows the ancient woodland as being marked and passed for development.” “A clerical error,” he admitted. “The council have egg on their faces – and, if I wanted, I would have them over a barrel. The maps were supposed to mark the development land in red and the woodland in black. Somehow the whole thing got lumped together and it was passed without anyone spotting the error – but of course the permission was only meant to be for the wood my father created. Those trees are forestry and planted to be cut for timber, and they are ready now, which is fortunate for me if I wish to sell the land.” “Yes, of course. I don’t think there could be any real objection to that – but why didn’t you tell me this on the phone? Why not publish a public retraction immediately, and save yourself all the trouble of a protest on your doorstep?” “Would you believe – a dislike of being told what I may, or may not, do with land my family has owned for centuries?” There was a hint of arrogance in his manner, and then his eyes twinkled. “Combined with a puckish sense of humor…” “You wanted the Press to make a fool of itself?” “In a manner of speaking – yes,” he admitted. “I have not had cause to love journalists, Georgie. My family’s name has been dragged through the mud on a couple of occasions. I was planning on demanding a retraction, of course. I suppose

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you think I am a stupid old man?” “No – certainly not old and not stupid. I think it was a pity you decided to play a joke on us.” “Yes. I’ve realized that it was a foolish thing to do. That protestor who was killed wouldn’t have been here… and your sister…” “April must have been followed here,” I said. “Her life was at risk wherever she went, because of her husband. You shouldn’t blame yourself over her death -– but the stabbing was unfortunate.” “Yes.” He looked at me in silence for a few moments, then, “I would never have wanted that to happen. You must believe me.” Something flickered in his eyes. “Once was enough…” “You are speaking of the murder of Janice Creek?” “So you know about that? I should have expected you would. You are a journalist – and a good one. That’s why I agreed to give you an interview. I believed you might appreciate the joke. There’s a lot of humor in your writing, Georgie. It’s sharp, succinct and honest. I don’t always agree with your point of view, but I find you fair.” “Thank you, I try to be.” Instinct told me there was something more going on here, but I wasn’t sure what it was. “You wouldn’t be trying to force the price up on the land by any chance?” He laughed delightedly. “Clever! Very clever. I must admit the protest has given me a breathing space. And I tell you this in confidence, Georgie. Someone else wants the land – and much more. I’ve been offered a great deal of money to sell the whole estate.” “Sell this house – all your land?” I was stunned for a moment. “Surely you wouldn’t consider it?” He frowned, taking his time about answering. “My son was killed in an accident, Georgie. What good is all this to me now?” “What good is the money if you sell? Besides – you might marry again, have another family.” “Don’t think I haven’t considered that,” he said. “If there was someone I loved – someone who would appreciate the place…” He sighed heavily. “My marriage was unhappy. I married because the estate needed money at the time. Later, I realized that I had sold myself into a life of misery. My wife became an invalid after our son was born…” “I’m sorry. Has there been no one else…” I stopped and blushed. “Forgive me, that was a personal question and I had no right to ask it.” “I gave you the right by telling you my thoughts. And there was someone once, but it was a long time ago.” I nodded but, sensing a withdrawal in him, did not ask any further questions of a personal nature. “What do you want me to do about this story on the land? I can write a small piece about a clerical error if you wish – unless there’s a real story about what you intend to do with the land?” “Not yet. The negotiations are still very much a secret. If they come to nothing I may yet have to settle for a housing estate – much though I would dislike that.”

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“Don’t answer this unless you wish – but do you need to sell?” “Unfortunately, I shall soon have to do something – though it isn’t desperate for a while.” “April told me I ought to think about this from your side,” I said, “when I mentioned the story to her. She also said that she knew your estate. Had she ever been to look over it as a location for her show?” “No. No, I certainly haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her. I would have remembered that. Your sister was a very beautiful woman, Georgie. I don’t care for the kind of show she produced, myself – but I think Brenda may have watched it sometimes.” “It was primarily for women,” I agreed. “I wonder what April meant – she definitely said she knew of this estate.” “I dare say quite a few people who have never been here may know of the estate.” “Yes, I suppose so,” I agreed. “I doubt if it was important. What happened to my sister was nothing to do with her being here.” We heard voices in the hall, and then Brenda came in to announce a visitor. “It’s a Mr. Steven Roberts. He insists on seeing Georgie.” “Steve!” I sprang to my feet as he entered the room. “It’s so good to see you…” In another moment I was enclosed in his arms, and he was stroking the back of my neck. I had never felt gladder to see him, and was comforted by his arms about me. Steve was strong and reliable and familiar, and I had needed him badly. “What a foul thing to happen! I’m so sorry I wasn’t around, Georgie. I came as soon as I got your message.” I glanced up at him, warmed by the concern in his face. Tears had started to run down my cheeks. He wiped them away with a white handkerchief. “Sorry! I’m all right. It was just seeing you.” “Yeah. I know the effect I have on women – but not usually you.” I blinked hard. “What am I going to do, Steve? Fernando Rodan says April wasn’t his brother’s wife – something about the divorce papers not being through. And he wants to take his brother’s body home. I think April might have wanted them to be buried together.” “Leave me to deal with him,” Steve said, his expression grim. “Where do you want April buried?” “I hadn’t thought…” I faltered, my throat tight. “She might want to be cremated. We never spoke of these things. They won’t let us for a while – will they?” “Not for a while,” Steve said. “I’ll do whatever you want. I can sort this out for you. You don’t have to worry about the details.” “Perhaps I could be of help?” Melvin said. “We have a family crypt at the local church. If you wished for a cremation you could have the ashes interred there … merely a suggestion, of course.” His suggestion was such a surprise that I hardly knew how to answer. “Yes, perhaps. I need to think for a bit longer.” “Of course.” Melvin looked directly at Steve. “You are Georgie's employer, I take it. I am pleased to meet you.” He offered his hand and, after a slight hesitation,

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Steve took it. “I asked Georgie to stay with us, because I didn’t like the idea of her being alone in a hotel at the moment,” Melvin told him. “You are quite welcome to stay here for a few days, Mr. Roberts. We have plenty of room.” The telephone started to ring, before Steve was able to answer, and Melvin picked up the receiver. “Yes, Inspector. She is here with me now…I’ll ask her.” He looked at me. “Apparently, they need a formal identification of your sister – do you feel up to it, Georgie?” “I’ll do that,” Steve offered at once, but I laid my hand on his arm. “I should like you to come with me,” I said, “but I need to see her, Steve. I have to say goodbye.” “Yes, of course.” He walked across to the desk. “May I?” he asked, and took the phone, explaining swiftly who he was and taking details. He looked at me as he replaced the receiver. “I’ve told him we’ll be there in half an hour.” “Yes, that’s fine,” I said and turned to Melvin. “It was good of you to invite Steve. He will stay just for tonight, thank you.” Steve looked at me as we left the house a few minutes later. “Was it wise to stay with him? Won’t you feel compromised when you come to write the story?” “It won’t matter, because I shan’t be writing that kind of a story.” I explained about the mix up over the planning permission. “So you see, it’s going to be a reprimand to the council for bungling its work at most – though there might be a story about the protestor who was knifed.” Steve shook his head. “That was definitely a personal thing – the other man involved has pleaded guilty to manslaughter. No, the story here isn’t going to be the stabbing, Georgie.” “You mean April?” I sighed as I saw the answer in his face. “I suppose we’ve got to expect that once the story breaks.” “It already has,” Steve said. “You clearly haven’t looked at a paper or listened to any media announcements this morning.” “I think that must be deliberate on Melvin’s part,” I said. “He has been rather sweet to me over all this, Steve. I like him.” “Obviously, since you are already on first name terms with him. I told you to watch out for him. Don’t be too trusting, Georgie. The way he was looking at you, I should say he fancies you.” “Steve! He’s old enough to be my father. Besides, he has been considerate, but there’s nothing like that in his manner at all.” I felt a bit annoyed with Steve for saying such a thing. I saw some cars gathered outside the gates of Sir Melvin’s property, and flashlights popped suddenly as we swept by in Steve’s car. Obviously, the Press had gathered already. The only reason I’d known nothing about them was because Sir Melvin’s household had been guarding me from intrusion. “You’ll have to be prepared for it,” Steve said grimly. “They are going to hound us, Georgie – and they will write anything. If they can’t get a quote they’ll make one up.” “And twist anything you’re foolish enough to tell them,” I replied angrily. “I

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don’t care about the Press, Steve. I want those bastards that killed her.” “You’re thinking of the drug angle,” he said, his brow furrowed. “I’m not sure if that’s the only one, Georgie.” What do you mean?” I turned my head to stare at him as we left Sir Melvin’s estate behind and headed towards Norwich. “It has to be a professional hit – doesn’t it? Why else would anyone want to kill them? Besides, April told me her husband’s life could be in danger.” “You had better tell me all of it,” Steve said. “Take it easy, Georgie and try to remember every last detail…” ***** Steve listened but didn’t make many comments as we continued our journey to the morgue where my sister and her husband had been taken. He was like that, and I knew he would turn the evidence over in his mind, sifting it until he could see a pattern emerging. I always took the direct path, but Steve was more careful, chewing things over for longer – perhaps that combination was what made us such a good team? We were met by Inspector Thorpe, who shook hands with Steve, and then conducted us inside. I felt the shivers run up and down my spine as I sensed the atmosphere of the place, and caught its smell… the smell of lost hope, I thought, my imagination working overtime again. April was lying on a metal table, covered by a sheet. I steeled myself and then nodded for Inspector Thorpe to draw back the sheet. My immediate feeling was one of relief. I had expected April to look frightened or as though she were in pain – instead, death had relaxed her lovely face so that she actually seemed to be smiling. All traces of blood had, of course, been washed away by now, and the sheet covered her wounds. I bent to touch my lips to her cold cheek, and my throat caught with emotion. “Rest in peace, my darling,” I whispered. “I love you – I love you so very much.” “You are identifying this person as your sister, Miss April Langley?” the Inspector asked formally and, for a moment, I had a wild desire to laugh. Was it likely that I would kiss a stranger? “Yes,” I replied. “She is April Langley.” “I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes,” the Inspector said. “Just ring the bell when you want to leave.” “Do you want me to go?” Steve asked, but I shook my head and reached for his hand. “Okay, I’ll stay.” I stayed for just a few more minutes, my heart aching as I gazed down at April’s face. This was the last time I would see her – but she was no longer there. At that moment my sense of loss was almost unbearable. When the pain began to ease, I would be able to remember other times, all the laughter and love we had shared. “I’m ready to go,” I said and Steve rang the bell. We emerged into the fresh air some minutes later. I breathed deeply, and then turned to Steve. “I want justice for April,” I said. “Maybe we can’t get them for her

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murder – I know it isn’t likely that any leads would go back to the men who ordered her execution – but we can nail them to the wall if we can expose their dirty little schemes.” “I would agree with you if I thought it would do any good,” Steve said. “And I’m willing to expose any criminal I can find enough evidence to incriminate – but, in this case, I’m not sure you’re on the right track.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “You said that in the car – before I told you what April said to me. She was frightened, Steve – I know she was. And her husband may have been involved with a drugs gang.” “You only have an article by Teddy Husk to go on,” Steve reminded me, with a frown. “I wouldn’t bet sixpence on him having got his facts straight, Georgie. Let’s give ourselves time to think about this. If we come up with some concrete evidence, I’ll back you all the way – but I think we ought to look for other possibilities first.” “Like what? You think April and Juan Rodan might have been killed by a stalker? Some fan who was jealous because April got married?” “Yes, that is one possibility,” Steve said, and his gaze narrowed. “But you seem to be missing something here, love – and that isn’t like you.” “I don’t understand…” I looked into his eyes, and something in them began to get through to me. “You mean … perhaps it wasn’t April the murderer meant to kill at all?” “Well, it is a possibility, Georgie. You were supposed to be at that cottage, not your sister.” “But why should anyone want to kill me?” “You may have stepped on someone’s toes,” Steve said. “You don’t think what you do is dangerous, Georgie – but we have exposed some pretty nasty people over the last couple of years. Some of them went to prison because of the work we did.” I felt cold all over. “April could have been killed because someone thought she was me? That is horrible, Steve. It makes me feel as if I sent her to her death.” “Of course you didn’t – and your own theory might be right. Or it could have been a jealous fan – or an old lover. We have to keep an open mind on all possibilities. I was merely trying to warn you not to go overboard on this drugs thing until we have a better picture of what happened that night.” “And how are we going to get that? Inspector Thorpe wasn’t exactly forthcoming when I spoke to him.” “I know Harry,” Steve said. “He’s okay if you give him time. I’ve arranged to meet him this evening for a drink – very partial to a drop of the good stuff is our Harry. He’ll tell me anything that is bothering him, providing I agree it’s off the record.” “And what about Fernando Rodan?” I asked. “I think he is mixed up in all this, Steve. He came to my room and practically accused me of causing it all because I didn’t let him know where April and his brother had gone. He said Juan needed protection, because his cover was blown – whatever that means! But it does seem to prove my theory.” “Yes, it makes it look that way,” Steve said, but he was unconvinced. “If you give me the card he left with you, I’ll see if he’s willing to talk.”

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“I want to see him too,” I said. “We’ll ring him when we get back to Whitney, Steve – and make an appointment to meet. I need to talk to Mr. Rodan.” “Yes, I think that may be a good idea, providing you’re up to it – but I’m not sure about staying at the house. Supposing we do have to write a story about our host, after all?” “I’m sure we won’t,” I replied. “Trust me on this one, Steve. I like him. I don’t know why, but I’m pretty sure he’s straight. I don’t believe he has anything to do with any of this – besides, if there is something going on behind the scenes, I’m in the right place to find out about it.” Steve’s look was skeptical. Clearly he wasn’t happy about my being there, but something was telling me to stay…

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CHAPTER FOUR After lunch, I paid a brief visit to the cottage where my sister had died. It was sealed with official yellow tape, and a young police constable was stationed at the door. There was nothing to be gained from lingering outside and, obviously, I wasn’t going to be allowed inside. My mind was beginning to settle now that I’d seen April. I doubted I would ever truly get over the aching loss her death had caused, but I had lost the desire to weep all the time. For the moment I had my grief under control. It might catch up with me again but, for now, I was angry and hurt, my journalistic instincts to the fore. More than anything, I wanted to hit out at somebody. I wanted to punish whoever was responsible for April’s murder. Steve was right, of course – there were alternatives to my first theory, though I was still inclined to think drugs the most likely explanation. Someone had to have leaked the story to the Press, and if the idea behind that had been to make April and Juan break cover… yet somehow I’d begun to see holes in my theory now. If it was a hitman, why hadn’t he killed them in London? Why follow them down here and wait several hours before shooting them? I remembered that the young police sergeant with Inspector Thorpe had blurted out his opinion that the shootings hadn’t looked like a professional job to him. At the time, I’d been so upset that all I had been able to think of was April’s pain and suffering… but I mustn’t let myself think about that too much, or I would be wanting to cry again, and I had to be strong. If I was going to settle this in my mind, I had to know what had really happened. I wasn’t the kind who could just let go – after all, I was used to research. I had as much chance of discovering the truth as anyone else. Steve had gone back to Norwich after lunch. He was uneasy as Sir Melvin’s guest, and I’d begun to realize that I should have let him decide for himself whether or not he wanted to stay. “I’ll see you later this evening,” he had told me. “You can ring me if you need me.” “Yes, all right. Don’t worry, Steve. I’m over the worst.” That wasn’t strictly true, but I wasn’t going to be a clinging vine – he’d had enough of that from Petra! After he’d left, I’d wandered about the gardens for a while, and then made my way to the cottage. Melvin and Brenda were being tactful and kind. I’d hardly seen Miss Stratton since I’d accidentally set the alarm off that morning, although I thought I probably had her to thank for fending off all the many calls from the Press. They must know I was here now, and they weren’t going to rest until they managed to get some kind of a story. It was a pleasant afternoon, the wind of the previous night having died away taking the threat of rain with it. Walking seemed to help settle me, and Sir Melvin’s estate had plenty of interest – including a rather pretty stream that rushed over moss-laden boulders, a park, grazing fields near the stables, and of course the woodland. I stood watching some horses and foals running together, for several minutes

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after leaving the holiday cottage. This place was perfect for a holiday complex when you thought about it – the house would make a comfortable hotel and more cottages could be built. The stables were already there, and there was a farm belonging to the estate a little further on. Farm holidays were becoming more popular. Perhaps that was what the new offer was about – some kind of a holiday complex? The idea appealed to me more than a housing estate, and I could understand why Melvin might be considering it. Had his son lived to provide an heir, it would no doubt have been different. There would have been someone to continue to care for this place – and it needed a loving hand. The idea of a family coming to an end after so many years was rather sad. I imagined Melvin’s feelings about the prospects for his estate in the future, and I could see why he might want to settle it now. Lost in my thoughts, I was startled when someone spoke to me as I turned away from the paddocks. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry, Georgie. That piece I did was tongue in cheek. I never expected anything like this…” Teddy Husk was standing behind me, having approached unnoticed when my mind was elsewhere. I stopped and stared at him in disgust. “Do you ever really consider what might happen as a consequence of what you write?” I asked. “You knew I was just teasing when I said I’d been followed that morning. Everyone else took it as a joke – why couldn’t you?” “Sorry,” Teddy said, looking as contrite as I’d ever seen him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I admire you, Georgie. I admire your work – you’ve got more balls than most men.” I laughed harshly. “I’ve no intention of giving you anything, so you can cut the crap. I’m shocked and upset – that’s all I have to say. Besides, how did you get in here? Journalists have been ordered to remain outside the gates.” “There are always ways and means, you know that,” he said with a knowing grin that made me want to hit him. “Have you seen Fernando Rodan yet? He’s in the country.” I must have betrayed something, because his gaze narrowed. “You have seen him, haven’t you? What has he got to say about all this? Was his brother mixed up in some kind of a drugs deal? I know there is a connection, but I keep coming up against a brick wall.” “No comment.” I started walking faster, hoping he would leave me alone, but he followed, firing questions at me until we were close to the house, and then I stopped and gave him a straight look. “If you don’t go away I shall be calling the police.” “Come off it, Georgie.” He grabbed my arm when I would have walked away. “You always were a hoity-toity bitch – you and that prick-teaser sister of yours. It was only a matter of time before someone got to her.” “You bastard!” I yelled and struck him hard across the face, a signet ring on my little finger cutting his mouth and making it spurt blood. He put his fingers to the blood and stared at me in shock for a couple of seconds, then raised his arm to hit me back. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a cool voice said from behind me. “Miss

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Langley was well within her rights to strike you. You have been bothering her for some minutes.” I was shocked as I saw Fernando Rodan. He must have driven up in the sleek, silver Mercedes now parked in the drive near by. I had been arguing with Teddy Husk and hadn’t noticed. Much as I disliked him, his intervention was timely and I felt a sense of relief. “Big brother to the rescue,” Teddy sneered. “Planning to keep it all in the family, are we? Well, the Press isn’t going to go away on this one, believe me.” “Perhaps not – but I suggest you do, before I have you removed. You are on private property – though you knew that, of course.” Teddy gave him a belligerent glare, but something about those hard, cold eyes made him back down. He spat on the ground, before he turned and strode off. “Thank you,” I said, and realized I was shaking. “I lost my temper. It was something he implied about April…” “You should know better than to talk to scum like that.” His eyes flicked over me scornfully. “I didn’t have much choice,” I said. “He followed me back here. And if you’re referring to that article about April, that was all conjecture. I made a throw away remark about being followed, and he twisted it into something it wasn’t.” “You should have learned from that.” “Look, Mr. Rodan, I’m grateful for your help – but I don’t have to defend myself to you. It was you he was asking about actually. He was very curious about you and your whereabouts. I didn’t tell him a thing, which is why he got nasty – but I can imagine what he’s going to make of this, can’t you?” He nodded, his dark eyes intent on my face. “I came to see Sir Melvin. We have an appointment – but I would like a chance to speak to you afterwards, Miss Langley.” “Yes…” I was reluctant to have anything more to do with him, but there didn’t seem to be much choice. We did have to talk about certain things. “I’m staying here for the moment. I’m going to do some work in my room but, if you ask for me when your business is finished, I’ll come down.” He nodded. “Good. This is painful for us both, but it has to be done.” I nodded but didn’t reply. There was no way I was going to give him anything! We parted. He was taken to see Sir Melvin, while I went upstairs to change and make a few notes on my clever little laptop. I was beginning to get a story, which was very different from the one I had come here to write, yet had a fine thread connecting it to the same principle. It was to do with heritage, with what was happening to our fine old houses and ancient estates. The idea was vague so far, but it was meant to show how the traditional guardians of our countryside were dying out. Unless we, as a nation were prepared to take over, to fight for what we had, so much would be lost. I took a shower, changed into a simple, navy shirtdress, and worked for half an hour before Brenda came to tell me that I was required in Melvin’s study. She was wearing a pair of khaki slacks and an open necked shirt, and carrying a gardening basket. I noticed that wisps of her hair had escaped from the severe hairstyle she

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usually preferred and I thought how attractive she was at that moment. “You look a little better,” she said approvingly. “Is there anything I can do for you, Georgie?” She hesitated uncertainly as though wondering whether to go on. “I’ve been wondering if…well, sometimes I think the spirits of people killed violently stay close to the earth for a while. If you wanted...I know someone who could help you to make contact with your sister.” “You mean a medium?” “Muriel is a psychic,” Brenda said and blushed. “She is very good. She really can reach the departed. I asked her to help me after my mother died in an accident.” “And did she help you?” I was curious. Brenda hadn’t struck me as the type to seek help from a psychic. “Yes, very much. I found it a great comfort,” Brenda said. “I know a lot of people don’t believe – they think it’s just a con – but a true psychic can make contact. Especially just after a violent death. It’s the best time, you see – before the spirit has crossed over.” “Yes, I see. Thank you, Brenda. I’m not sure…” “It’s your choice, of course,” she said hurriedly. “You won’t say anything about this to Sir Melvin? He certainly wouldn’t approve.” “No, I shan’t tell him. I know you meant it kindly,” I said. “I had better go now.” I went quickly down the stairs. Brenda’s suggestion had made my skin prickle. I remembered the voice I’d heard the previous night – imagination or April trying to reach me? It was an odd feeling… What was I thinking? I didn’t believe in things like that! Fernando Rodan was alone in Sir Melvin’s study when I opened the door. He was staring out of the window, but turned as I entered. I thought I saw approval in his eyes. “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting, Miss Langley. I hope there is no need for us to be at odds with one another. If I upset you yesterday, I apologize.” He was being generous. I had not been at my best at our first meeting either. “Thank you. The way I see it, we neither of us have much choice. If you were telling the truth about your brother’s divorce, April’s wishes don’t come into this. You have the right to take your brother’s body home.” “Yes, I have that right,” he agreed, “but I have given the matter more thought since we met. Juan certainly intended to marry your sister. I’ve discovered that he actually went so far as to make provision for her in the event of his death. Nothing that would stand up in court – but sufficiently clear for me to have followed his wishes had she lived. My brother’s wishes are important to me, Miss Langley. And it would seem that he cared a great deal for April.” “Well, I’m glad that’s sorted,” I said. “At least he cared for her. It wasn’t all a big con.” “My brother was a wealthy man. As your sister’s next of kin it may be that his provision for her…” “No! No, thank you,” I said before he could finish. “Not one penny. I’m not interested in his money – or yours. All I want is that my sister should be able to rest in peace, and if that means being buried with her husband…”

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“My brother was a Catholic – though his first wife was not. They went through a civil ceremony, which is why the family agreed to a divorce. My family will expect a Catholic service.” “Yes, I can understand that – but I still think they should be buried together somehow.” “Have you considered Sir Melvin’s offer? I think I could agree to that – if it was what you wanted?” “You mean their ashes could be interred together after separate services?” He nodded and I felt some of the tension drain out of me. “Yes, I think I should like that – they died together here.” It suddenly seemed right, and a tiny part of the pain eased inside me. “I should be grateful if you could agree to them being together.” “Perhaps it is fitting,” he said, and then frowned. “I have no wish to cause you further pain. Please believe me. You blame my brother for her death, of course.” “He should never have put her into danger!” “I agree,” he said, surprising me. “My brother was not usually reckless, Miss Langley. If he risked breaking his cover by marrying April in his own name, he must have been very much in love with her.” “What do you mean – breaking his cover?” “Juan worked for the American Narcotics Bureau,” he said, and I felt the hairs stand up at the nape of my neck. “He had infiltrated a large cartel and was about to bring off something that would have resulted in one or even two of the most powerful men in this business being arrested – not for drug trafficking but tax evasion. It’s the only way we can sometimes get them – they are too careful to link themselves to anything that smells of corruption.” “We…” I looked at him consideringly. “Does that mean you are involved too?” “I used the term loosely,” he said, giving me an odd smile. “I am neither as brave, nor as dedicated as Juan, Miss Langley. We had many arguments on this subject. I tend to take the easy route. Juan was passionate about these things. He had worked amongst drug addicts in our own country, and it was the despair he found there that made him determined to try and break the power of the drug barons. I warned him that the work was too dangerous, that he would be killed eventually, but of course he wouldn’t listen.” “I see. I am very sorry your brother was killed. I think I might have liked him. April said he was a terrific guy.” “Yes, he was,” Fernando said. “I had a great deal of respect for him. Juan had the kind of zeal in his work that you put into your writing, Miss Langley. He would have admired your work – as I do.” I nodded but didn’t thank him. I wasn’t that easy a push-over. Maybe he was above board and maybe he wasn’t. For the moment I was reserving judgment. “You still don’t quite trust me,” he said, and seemed slightly amused. “I am not sure that I blame you. In the circumstances.” “You believe it was a professional hit then?” “Yes – why?” He looked at me intently and I knew I had shocked him. “Is there any question of anything else? I knew that Juan was in danger – I was tipped off that there was a contract out on him. That is why I rang you. Had I been able to

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contact him, I might have arranged protection.” “You gave your number too fast,” I said. “I would have rung you, though I couldn’t have helped. April used your brother’s phone. She wasn’t answering her own mobile – and she wouldn’t tell me where she was. If your brother wasn’t answering your calls, it may have been deliberate – because he wanted to be left alone.” “Juan knew he was in trouble then,” Fernando said. “He ought to have contacted me – but you asked me if I were certain it was a professional hit. I have assumed that was the case. As yet the Inspector in charge of the case has refused to give me more than the bare details.” “They were both shot several times. April didn’t die at once – she managed to crawl to Juan’s side. The young police sergeant with Inspector Thorpe didn’t think it was a professional job, because of that.” I drew a shaky breath as I thought of my sister, badly wounded, using her last breath to reach her husband. My eyes stung with the tears I refused to let fall as I raised my head and looked at him. “Of course that could have been intended on the part of the killers – to cover their tracks.” “You have managed to learn more than I so far, but I intend to be kept fully informed on this, and I shall take whatever measures are necessary to make sure that I am.” His expression was grim, but I could see that I had given him food for thought. “I shall have to bring some pressure to bear. I want the truth, Miss Langley. I imagine you feel the same.” “Yes, I do. I want whoever did this to be punished,” I said, head up, meeting his eyes. “In whatever way possible.” “We are agreed on that,” he said, and something in his face told me that he didn’t intend to take the easy route this time. “Shall we make a pact, Miss Langley? If I discover anything I shall let you know – and you will pay me the same courtesy?” I hesitated for a moment, then, “In that case you had better call me Georgie.” He smiled suddenly, and I discovered that he was actually a very attractive man – a man I might like, if I let myself. “I should be honored, Georgie. I am Fernando to my friends and family.” “Well, I suppose we’re almost family.” He gave a husky laugh, appreciating the point. “Yes. I have not yet become a friend. I must do what I can to earn that favor, Georgie.” “They won’t let us have the funeral yet, I suppose?” “Not for a while,” he said. “I’ll work on that, Georgie. Once the autopsies are finished, it should be a formality. I promise to do my best.” He glanced at his watch – a gold Rolex, of course. “And now I must go. I am expected in London this evening. An official reception of your Government. You have my card. Ring me at any time.” “Yes, thank you. I shall stay here for a few days. I don’t feel like going home until some of the fuss dies down.” “You mean the Press, of course. You will have a great deal to put up from them. I dare say they will hang around for some time. I am sorry, Georgie. Very sorry this happened.” “Yes, so am I,” I replied. “But I don’t suppose either of us could have done

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much to prevent it – both your brother and my sister went pretty much their own way.” I held my hand out to him, but instead of shaking it, he raised it to his lips and saluted it gallantly, which brought a blush to my cheeks, making me feel I had been touched by fire. “Au revoir, Georgie,” he said in that husky voice of his. “Until we meet again.” ***** Melvin was busy, so I had tea with Brenda. She apologized for her aunt’s absence, telling me that, although Miss Stratton was putting a brave face on things, she was very distressed. “She has gone to lie down, and seems a little unwell. I don’t think I have ever known her to be quite this shocked,” Brenda said. “Of course she is getting on a bit, though no older than Sir Melvin. He always seems so young, don’t you think so?” “Yes. Yes, I suppose he does,” I agreed. “He has been very kind to me – and so have you, Brenda. I am sorry your aunt is unwell.” “She feels responsible in a way – in fact we all do,” she said and looked concerned. “It happened in our cottage. I know we all feel that we should have done something to prevent it – though what we could have done, I don’t know.” “You couldn’t, of course. None of you were to blame.” “Guilt is an odd thing,” she observed. “One often feels it for no good reason. After my mother died, I felt I should have done the shopping for her that day. She was knocked down on a pedestrian crossing by a speeding car. If I had gone to the supermarket myself in the car... but I was busy, and she enjoyed going on her own sometimes.” “Yes, I know what you mean,” I said. “I feel guilty because I told April to come here – but it could have happened anywhere.” “Yes, I suppose so.” Brenda frowned. “You don’t think… no, that’s foolish of me.” I stared at her uncertainly, not quite sure what she was saying. “You are wondering if my sister was killed in mistake for me?” Brenda hesitated, and then nodded. “Had you considered the possibility?” “Steve thought we should,” I said. “I might have upset someone. I can be a bit harsh sometimes in print – Steve says my tongue has been dipped in the acid, and my pen by the same token.” “But you’re not at all as I imagined,” Brenda said. “When my aunt told me you were coming down – I thought you would be one of those hard-bitten feminist types.” “And a lesbian to boot?” I laughed as she looked slightly embarrassed. She clearly wasn’t used to plain speaking and I must be a shock to her. “Sorry, Brenda. I’m used to saying what I think, but I’m not sour or bitter… not even over April’s death. I would punish her murderer if I could, but we may never know who was responsible.” Brenda nodded in sympathy. “That’s how I felt about the driver of that car. I

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wanted to punish him. Just taking his license away didn’t seem enough somehow.” “No, it wouldn’t,” I agreed. “They caught him then?” “Oh yes,” she said. “He was punished – but it still wasn’t enough. I suppose it never is.” “The worst of it is, I’m going to get no peace. The journalists will keep trying to get to me. Especially when I get home.” “Are you thinking of going home?” “I shall have to soon. I can’t stay here forever.” “Why not?” Melvin asked, coming in at that moment. “We love having guests, don’t we, Brenda? Persuade her to stay – it will be some young company for you, m’dear. You must get bored with just Miss Stratton and me sometimes.” “Of course I don’t,” she denied at once, giving him a lovely smile. “But I shall be happy if Georgie wants to stay.” Her cheeks were pink and I was struck by the way her eyes glowed as she looked at him. It was pretty amazing that he seemed not to be aware that she was in love with him. And rather a shame. With a wife like Brenda, he would probably have begun a young family in a very short time. “I shall stay for a few days,” I said. “You’ve made me feel so much at home. And if April and Juan’s ashes are to be interred locally…” “You must feel free to return at any time,” Melvin said. “My home will always be open to you, Georgie.” His tone and his look were so warm at that moment that I did begin to wonder if Steve was right. It was possible that Melvin found me attractive – and yet I had seen nothing of the older man lusting after a young woman in his manner, either towards Brenda or myself. He was just a kind and generous man – and I was beginning to like him more and more. “I wanted to talk to you about a piece I’m thinking of writing,” I told him. “It has come out of this wood thing – but there’s a very different slant. I thought it might be interesting to highlight the difficulties that the traditional guardians of our heritage are experiencing these days. Land and houses that have been looked after by families for generations, and what happens when the estate is sold…” He looked interested and gratified, as if he appreciated the thinking behind my new angle and saw it as a compliment to himself. “I might be able to help you there,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I have some relevant material myself. I’ve given some thought to this problem over the years, as you may imagine.” Brenda had got up to clear the tea things, making a little clatter as if she disapproved of our talk in some way. She hadn’t said a word, but I sensed that she was annoyed, although I wasn’t sure what had upset her. “Brenda doesn’t know that I might sell the estate,” he told me when the door was safely closed behind her. “She wouldn’t like that idea at all. She isn’t pleased at the idea of having a housing estate on our doorstep either – but it has to be one or the other.” “Have you thought of making more of the holiday aspect?” “I might have known you would make the connection,” he said with an appreciative look. “It is holidays of a sort – but there’s a golf course involved. It

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would mean quite a bit of the open land would be swallowed up – but the house and some extra building would provide accommodation.” “I hadn’t twigged the golf course,” I admitted, surprised that he should be willing to tell me so much of what was surely confidential. I was, after all, a stranger and a journalist – one of a breed he had no cause to love. “I should imagine you might face some stiff resistance over the golf course. My idea was more of a quiet country hotel with good walks, riding stables – and perhaps a tie in with the farm. Animals that children can pet and play with, you know the idea.” “That sounds appealing” he said, and smiled. “If I had a son to carry it on I might have a go myself – but my buyer wants a golf course. We have a bit of an edge with the council because of the mistake over the wood, though I dare say there will be opposition. There always is, these days. I dare say I shall be accused of ruining the environment.” “It’s better than a housing estate,” I said, “but you will make up your own mind, of course.” “I’ve enjoyed talking to you about things. I value your opinion.” I was just about to suggest that he might want to employ a manager to run the place for him when Brenda came in. She was carrying the evening paper and looked extremely disturbed. “How could he?” she cried and her eyes held accusation as she looked at me. “Why didn’t you warn us that a reporter had been asking questions?” “Teddy Husk?” I asked, already knowing it had to be him. “I’m sorry. I ought to have mentioned it. He was here earlier. Mr. Rodan managed to get rid of him – What has he been saying? Knowing him, it stops just short of libel.” “He has dragged up all kinds of things from the past,” she said unhappily. “And he has linked the death of Melvin’s son with drugs – implying that there is some kind of underhand deal going on with Fernando Rodan.” “Give that to me, Brenda.” Melvin took the paper and read a few sentences. He scowled and crumpled it before throwing it down. “Not a word of truth! The fellow deserves to be shot!” “He ought to be sued,” I agreed, rescuing the torn paper and scanning the first few paragraphs. “One day someone will call his bluff. He really is scum. I am sorry he has chosen to do this. It was out of spite, of course – because I refused to tell him anything. He is the most despicable man!” “But why must he drag all that nonsense up from the past?” Brenda asked, looking tearful. “It’s so unkind…” “Don’t let it worry you, Brenda,” Melvin said gruffly. “And you mustn’t blame yourself, Georgie. I’ve read this kind of filth before. It is true that my Ralph did dabble with drugs when he was a teenager – show me a lively lad that doesn’t these days. However, the night he died it was from natural causes. He had a heart attack at the wheel. Unfortunately, his car went off the road and injured a young boy rather badly. The boy lived but he has brain damage. The insurance paid out, of course, but it wasn’t enough to provide him with the all round care he is going to need for the rest of his life. I’ve tried to help a little by buying some special equipment, though my lawyer warned me not to do it. Now the parents are suing me personally.”

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“That’s rather unfair!” “Yes – but I brought it on myself by trying to help. And my son was driving my car – after having suffered a slight heart attack a couple of weeks earlier. They are trying to make a case that I should not have let him take my car and that, by doing so, I am responsible for what happened. I suppose there might be a liability by a stretch of the imagination.” “And you feel guilty regardless of the truth,” I said. “I suppose they’ve offered to settle out of court?” “For a hundred thousand.” He smiled sadly. “My lawyer insists I should fight the case and he thinks I’ll win. If I do and they lose what little they have, I shall never forgive myself.” “Call their bluff. They probably won’t go through with it. Or make Teddy pay by suing him for this filth. I think you would win.” “Perhaps – but it would mean dragging it all through open court. To be honest I’m sick of it, Georgie.” “Who wouldn’t be?” “Well, I think this Teddy Husk deserves to be punished,” Brenda said. “Couldn’t you do what Georgie said, Melvin? I am sure you would win.” “So am I,” I agreed. “Unfortunately, his sort tend to get away with it far too often.” “Oh well, I suppose there’s nothing we can do. We should go up and change for dinner,” Brenda went on. “Your friend has returned, Georgie. He brought the paper.” “I’ll have a word with him,” I said. “Steve might be able to discredit Teddy in print. It’s not much, Melvin – but I think we can force him to publish a retraction.” “Don’t upset yourself, m’dear. I’ve been through this sort of thing before – and worse. I shall survive.” I nodded but made no reply. As I followed Brenda to the bottom of the stairs, she stopped to air her opinion once more. “It is disgusting! How could he write such lies?” “He will write anything. He really is scum, Brenda. Melvin should make him pay for it – but he seems to prefer to let it go.” “He has been hurt too many times,” she said rather fiercely for her. “Where do you think he is – that journalist? Will he have gone back to London?” “Oh, I doubt it,” I said. “He can send his copy in online in seconds. No, he hasn’t finished with us yet. He will hang around here, probably stay at a local pub and keep digging until he finds some more dirt to throw at us.” “Don’t say that!” She looked horrified. “What can we do to stop him?” “Pray that he has a heart attack?” “Georgie!” She gave a little giggle but looked shocked. “You don’t mean that? Of course you don’t.” “Why not? The world would be a better place without him – but don’t look so shocked. It won’t happen. It never does to the Teddies of this world. I’m going to freshen up now. I’ll see you later.” I ran upstairs. As I reached the landing, I saw Miss Stratton. She appeared to be hovering. I smiled at her but, before I could approach, she gave me an odd look,

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then turned away and went into her own room, shutting the door with a little bang. I wondered if she had been eavesdropping on my conversation with Brenda. She was really a rather strange woman. I knocked on the door of the room given to Steve. He opened it with his shirt out of his trousers, obviously about to change. “Are you staying for dinner?” “No. I told you, I’ve arranged to meet Harry Thorpe. We’ll have a few drinks – maybe get a snack from the bar.” “Where are you meeting him?” “At the village pub. Some of the reporters are staying there. I’ll see what I can do to get them off your back. I think I shall drive back to London afterwards. You stay here if you want, but I’d rather not.” I didn’t like the note of disapproval in his voice. We seldom disagreed, and I wanted him with me on this. “I can’t understand why you dislike Melvin so much. He’s perfectly pleasant…” “It isn’t that – I just have a gut feeling that something isn’t right here, Georgie. I should have thought you would feel it, too.” “Well, I can’t. I like Melvin and I like being here.” “Please yourself.” He shrugged. “Ring me tomorrow. I think you should come back and face the Press, Georgie. Get it over. They’re not all like Husk. Why not give an interview to someone you like? They will probably leave you alone then.” “That was a vile piece Teddy wrote, Steve.” “We’ll get him for it,” Steve promised grimly. “If I see him this evening, I’ll have a few words – and I should imagine Rodan will sue. He can afford to take it all the way.” “Yes, I suppose he can. I hadn’t thought about it from his point of view.” I sighed as I looked at Steve. “I shall come back soon, but I don’t want to be alone… not yet.” “You can stay at my place if you’re nervous.” “Thanks. I’ll bear it in mind for future reference.” He grinned. “Why not think about it, Georgie? We might turn out to be more than mates – who knows what could happen when you see me in all my natural glory?” “We might lose what we’ve got. You’re not serious, Steve?” “Nah – just joking,” he said, but there was an odd expression of regret in his eyes, and I wasn’t convinced. I was thoughtful as I went to tidy up for dinner – which meant putting on a smarter belt and shoes. I hadn’t come prepared for a long stay. I was aware of unease. Steve’s feelings towards me couldn’t be changing – could they? I wasn’t sure how I would react if he were serious about us moving in together. Steve meant a lot to me – but it was only friendship. At least, I had thought that was all it was on either side. *****

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Miss Stratton did not come down for dinner that evening. Brenda said her aunt was still feeling unwell. “She is lying on her bed with a headache,” she told us. “I shall make her a few sandwiches and some cocoa later. I know that sounds dreadfully old fashioned, Georgie, but she likes it, and I try to humor her. She has been a little…unlike herself. I’m sure it’s just all the upset of the past couple of days.” “It isn’t like your aunt to break down,” Melvin said, and frowned. “I’ve only known her to be ill once in the past twenty years. Should we have the doctor, do you think?” “Oh no! She wouldn’t like that at all,” Brenda said quickly. “I’m sure it’s just stress. She will be fine in a day or so.” “Then we’ll just leave her in peace.” After dinner, Sir Melvin said that he had arranged to go and see someone. Brenda cleared away the dishes. I helped her carry them to the kitchen and stack the dishwasher. The kitchen was very modern and bright – and spotless. “You keep this beautifully,” I said. “I could eat off the floor.” “No, please don’t,” she replied, and smiled in her gentle way. “I like order, Georgie. And I like things to be right. It’s my way.” “A very good way, Brenda.” “Thank you.” She gave me an earnest look. “I am so glad you are staying with us for a while, Georgie. There are such dreadful people about – and I would hate anything to happen to you.” “Teddy Husk is a scumbag, but not a murderer.” “But he attacked you this afternoon. My aunt told me that she saw him from the upstairs window. She said he wouldn’t leave you alone?” “Yes, that’s right. He kept asking questions, but I wouldn’t answer – and that made him angry, and then I struck him. Not a wise thing to do to a man like that. It could have been very nasty, if Mr. Rodan hadn’t happened to be there.” “I think Mr. Husk is an evil man,” she said, looking distressed. “It is a pity he ever came here.” “Yes, it is,” I said. “Do you want to watch TV, Brenda? Or would you rather do your own thing? I can go upstairs and work if you like?” “I’m going to wash my hair. You work if you want to, Georgie. I’ll bring you a drink, when I take my aunt’s cup of cocoa - if you like?” “Thank you, but make it tea please.” “Oh yes, I prefer tea at night.” She gave me a conspiratorial look. “Actually, I sometimes have a little drop of whisky in mine.” “That sounds good,” I said. “But just tea would be fine.” “Whatever you prefer, Georgie.” She smiled at me. “I just want you to be comfortable here.” We parted, and I went upstairs. I had been working for about half an hour, or so, when I saw the flash of headlamps on my window. I didn’t bother to investigate. It was half past nine by the clock on my computer. I supposed Sir Melvin had returned from his appointment. The words were flowing now, coming out of my head almost faster than I could type. By the time I had finished, corrected and saved, it was nearly eleven.

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Brenda was later with the tea than I’d expected. I was about to go in search of something to drink myself, when she knocked at the door, her hair still in jumbo rollers. “Have you been working all this time?” she scolded. “You will wear yourself out!” “I lost track of time,” I said. “You don’t sleep in those things, do you?” “Oh no,” she laughed and touched the rollers. “I’ve been talking to my aunt. She says she feels much better now. My hair was dry ages ago. I’ll take these out when I go to bed.” “You’ll never rest otherwise. Thanks for the tea, Brenda.” “Goodnight then, Georgie. Sleep well. Everything will look better in the morning, you’ll see.” “Yes, I expect so. Goodnight, Brenda.” I took my cup of tea to bed, drank it and put out the light. I was asleep within minutes and I didn’t wake once in the night. ***** Harry Thorpe woke from the nightmare covered in sweat. For a moment he stared into the darkness, the dream too vivid to be instantly dismissed. It was a dream he had not had for years… and one that he could do without. He had been at the cottage, witnessing the aftermath of Janice Creek's murder all over again. Getting up to make himself a cup of coffee, Harry wondered why he should start having the dream again. It had haunted him for months afterwards, until he’d thought he was losing his mind. Perhaps he had been a little mad for a while, but then he’d gradually conquered his fears and he’d thought he’d forgotten that time. It had been a particularly bad time for Harry, personally, coming as it did soon after the death of his only daughter and a painful divorce. His little girl had been killed in an accident, but he hadn’t managed to get to the hospital in time to be with his wife as she went through the trauma of an operation that had failed to save their child’s life. She’d hated him for that – and he’d known she was right to hate him. He despised himself. He was filled with self-loathing. He had been working late, that’s what he’d told his wife, but the truth was he’d been discussing work over a drink in the pub. He could have been home an hour sooner. He’d seen his daughter’s lifeless body lying against the white of a hospital sheet – she was only a baby, not much older than Belinda Creek. And she had run out into the road in front of a car. “She thought it was you coming home,” his wife had told him accusingly. “I called to her, but she wanted her daddy…she hardly ever saw you, Harry. But she wanted her daddy…” Maybe it was the blood that had made Harry react so badly to Belinda Creek. She had crawled in her mother’s blood, of course, but to his tortured mind she had seemed to be a little vampire. His daughter’s blood had stained the road in front of his house. He’d taken a hose to it, but it was weeks before it was finally washed away – and he hadn’t been able to get the picture of his child’s bleeding body out of

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his mind. The shrink had explained it all to him and, in the end, Harry had realized what he ought to have known from the start. The child was innocent, of course she was. Belinda could never have killed her mother. It was just that the case had never been closed. He supposed it was the murder of April Langley and her husband that had stirred things up again, though he wasn’t sure why. There was no reason to imagine the two were connected. They were completely different, so why had something been nagging at him for the past few days? He mustn’t let himself become obsessed by this case as he had the earlier one. Ever since his return to work, Harry had managed to retain a certain detachment, but there was something about this that was beginning to haunt him…

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CHAPTER FIVE I decided to drive down to the village of Whitney after breakfast. I hadn’t yet seen the church, where my sister and her husband were to be interred in Sir Melvin’s family crypt. It was rather an outstanding offer he had made us, and very generous. I had been wondering why he should have made the offer at all. He hardly knew me, and he had never met my sister or Juan Rodan. Yet, despite puzzling over it, I could not discover any ulterior motive. So why should he have been so kind? Unless he was feeling a little responsible because the murder had taken place on his estate. I supposed he must be thinking that, being the last of his family, there would be no more Gutteridges to come after him, which I thought was rather a pity. I had noticed once or twice that he looked a little sad when looking at me. Steve would say I was losing my grip! My sister’s death had certainly affected me powerfully, making me all too aware of my own vulnerability. The church was Norman, and quite beautiful when I saw it with the benefit of glorious sunshine that morning. There was a large moss-grown churchyard and, right at the far end, almost hidden by the trees, a statue of a stone angel guarding the place where my sister’s ashes would lie. I felt a tremendous sense of peace, as I stood and looked at that angel, and I felt that I could have been a part of this family. Ridiculous, of course! However, the feeling of rightness convinced me that it was the perfect place for April and the man she had loved. And that eased a part of the ache inside me. It was as I was standing alone in the churchyard that I saw the man laying flowers on a grave. He knelt beside it, pulling out some weeds that were obscuring the inscription on the stone, and I could see that he was feeling some personal distress. To leave the churchyard I would have to pass him, and I hesitated to do so because I sensed he was grieving but, as he stood up, he happened to glance my way and I knew that he had seen me. He waited and I felt obliged to walk to meet him. “Good morning, Miss Langley,” he said. “I was thinking about you earlier this morning.” “Were you, Inspector Thorpe? I hope I haven’t done anything wrong?” “I wouldn’t know about it if you had,” he said, giving me a wry smile. “How are you feeling now?” “A little better I think.” “You don’t look better, you look tired,” he said. “I suppose you haven’t thought of anything you want to tell me?” “Not yet, Inspector.” “No – well, if you do, you know where to find me.” “Yes, of course, thank you.” He nodded, his eyes narrowed intently for a moment as he looked at me, then he turned and walked away. I glanced down at the grave he had been tending and saw that a child was buried there. Anne Thorpe, aged four, dearly beloved daughter of Harold and Sarah Thorpe. My throat felt tight for a moment as I glanced after him, feeling sympathy.

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His child had died a long time ago and, yet, he still brought flowers. He had seemed such a stern, hard man, not the type to be sentimental. After leaving the church, I drove into the village and paid a visit to the local supermarket. I filled my basket with tins of baby food and other, similar, items that I thought might be useful to Rose, intending to leave them at the ruin on my way back. “Disgraceful! That’s what I call it. I don’t know what this village is coming to!” I heard the woman’s sharp voice behind me, but resisted the urge to look round, as I continued to add small things to my shopping. “It must have been some of the louts from that camp near the woods. Nasty, dirty lot they are! No one local would do such a thing,” another voice replied. “Three cars were damaged in the pub yard last night... tires slashed, paintwork scratched. Sheer vandalism if you ask me.” “The cars all belonged to journalists,” yet a third voice chimed in. “I reckon they got what they deserved. Coming down here and causing trouble. Two of them almost came to blows in the bar last night. It could have been unpleasant if Inspector Thorpe hadn’t stopped it.” “Still sober was he? That makes a change,” the first voice said. “It’s a wonder they didn’t throw him off the force years ago. It’s no wonder the crime rate is so high when half the police are either drunks or villains themselves.” “Friends in high places. Besides, Harry’s not a bad sort. And you’re too hard on the police, Mary. There will always be a few bad apples in every barrel…” “Pity about his wife leaving him – after he was ill that time. He never got over that.” “Better off as he is I expect…” I took my shopping to the counter. “You’ll be the young lady staying up at the house then?” the assistant said brightly. She was a woman in her sixties, grey-haired, with heavy glasses perched on the end of her nose. “Friend of the family?” “Something like that,” I said. “Did I hear someone say there was trouble at the pub last night?” “Dreadful!” she said and pulled a face. “Several cars were damaged – and there was a bit of a fight between two of the journalists. One of them was that fat man.” She screwed up her mouth in distaste. “I didn’t like him much. He came in here to buy cigarettes and asked all kinds of questions about Sir Melvin’s son. I didn’t tell him anything, but there’s plenty would for the price of a drink.” “Yes, I suppose so. Was anyone hurt last night?” “Not that I heard. Just a few cars damaged.” She finished ringing up my shopping. “Got a baby have you, dear?” “No – these are for a friend. Well, I must go. Thank you.” “It was nice meeting you, Miss…?” “Langley. Georgina Langley.” I smiled at her, picked up my shopping and went out. I was thoughtful as I stacked my bags in the back of my hire car, and wondered about the damage done to the cars in the pub yard. Some of the journalists had probably come down by train

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and hired a car like me, but Teddy Husk always drove his own car. It was a vintage Jaguar, and lovingly restored. I believed he was very proud of it. I could imagine his reaction if that car had been damaged. It was poetic justice in a way. I drove out to the ruin. There was no sign of Rose or her partner, even though I knocked at the door, so I left the groceries under the porch and hoped she would get them. I doubted that Rose could have told me anything I couldn’t get from the records office. Both the local and national newspapers would have reported the murder twenty years ago – though sometimes local gossip had a slant to it, rather like the gossip I’d heard in the village shop. Some of what was being said there would be libelous if it was in print. Even though I had decided to write a very different story to the one I’d first intended, I was still intrigued by the old mystery, perhaps because it had never been solved. It wasn’t that I was going to use it, I was just curious. I didn’t linger by the ruin. There was a bit of an atmosphere about the place, close to, that gave me goosebumps all over. Had I noticed it before Greg told me about the murder? I couldn’t remember – but I was definitely aware of it now. I laughed at myself. It was probably just my imagination! Brenda would say it was the spirit of Janice Creek, crying out for justice. Apparently, the police had bungled the investigation twenty years ago, as I imagined they might this time. I had very little hope of them discovering the truth, let alone catching the killer. I could only hope that Fernando Rodan would come up with something. He had denied that he himself was involved in any way with the people his brother had worked for, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. Perhaps he didn’t work for the Narcotics Bureau in the same direct way as Juan had, but I believed there was more to him that he let most people see – and I imagined he was a very influential man. He had told me things that must have been secret before his brother’s death. I sensed that he was usually a very private man, a man who might be difficult to approach in normal circumstances, but his brother’s death had moved him. His family clearly meant a great deal to him, and I liked that in him: a sense of family was important. Thus far I had avoided reading the newspapers, other than the one Brenda had shown me. I did not know if anyone had got hold of Fernando’s version of events yet. No doubt he would manage that if it suited his plans. At least I knew that he would do his best to obtain justice for his brother and my sister, and that formed a bond between us that would not otherwise have been there. I was thoughtful as I drove back to the house, remembering the man I had seen in the graveyard. It had been a revealing moment when he knelt to lay those flowers – and something I had seen in his eyes had made me feel that I was looking into a tortured soul. Brenda was arranging flowers in the hall, when I got back to the house. The scent of the lilies was very strong, almost too strong for my taste – they reminded me of the flowers one saw in a churchyard. I shut out the thought before I became morbid.

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“Have you been for a nice walk?” Brenda asked when she saw me. “I drove down to the village to do a little shopping,” I said. “Have you heard the latest news?” “What has happened now?” she asked, looking apprehensive. “Please don’t say there has been another murder!” “No – not that I know of,” I replied. “Some cars were vandalized in the pub yard last night. Apparently, one of them was Teddy Husk’s – and it was rather special, classified as vintage I imagine. He has spent a fair amount of money having it restored to its original state. I should think he would be rather upset about that.” “Oh dear, how terrible,” Brenda said, looking shocked. “Some people do such awful things these days, and the police don’t seem to do anything. Was Mr. Husk’s car the only one damaged?” “No, from what I heard, I think that at least three vehicles were attacked. Some of them might have been hire cars – but the insurance doesn’t cover for tires so it’s going to cost the drivers money.” “It shouldn’t have happened, of course.” Brenda looked at me expectantly. “But it does make you think there might be some justice after all, doesn’t it?” “Well…yes.” She gave a defiant giggle. “I can’t pretend I’m sorry it happened to that dreadful man, Georgie. I know it’s wicked of me, but I think he deserved to be punished.” I thought about Teddy’s beautiful car and imagined his anger at finding it badly damaged. “Yes, well, I believe you can safely assume he has been.” “Good! Oh dear, how awful of me!” She looked guilty. “I shouldn’t say things like that – should I?” “Why not? I do – and in a way it does serve him right.” We smiled at each other. Naturally Brenda would think the whole affair was dreadful, which it was, of course, but also rather satisfying that swift retribution had followed Teddy’s vitriolic attack on Sir Melvin. “If I’d wanted to punish him, I couldn’t have thought of anything more fitting,” I admitted. “Well, I suppose he did deserve it, she said, “even though I wouldn’t normally condone such action. Perhaps it will make him decide to go back to London, where he belongs.” “He might,” I agreed, “but that doesn’t mean he will leave us alone. He’s hardly started yet. The journalists are going to drag up everything they can about April, because she’s hot news at the moment – and any other piece of dirt they come across in the process will be flung in for good measure. For some reason, Teddy seems to have it in for Sir Melvin as well as me. I doubt if we’ve heard the last of him yet. He’s sure to have another go at us before he’s finished.” “Oh, I do hope not,” Brenda said and looked upset. “Please, don’t talk about him anymore. Will you be here for lunch and dinner, Georgie?” I thought about it and came to a decision. Now that the worst of the shock had worn off, I was beginning to realize there wasn’t much point in staying on here. The past couple of days had given me a chance to get my thoughts together, and now I was starting to feel restless. There were things I needed to do, and I would do them better at home.

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“I’ll stay for lunch,” I said, “then I’ll take my car back to Norwich and catch the train to London.” “Oh dear, must you?” she said, looking disappointed. “I thought you might stay over the weekend at least. I’m sure Melvin will be sorry to see you leave so soon.” “I expect I shall be coming back in a few days. I’m not sure how long before… they will let us arrange things.” Tears stung my eyes but I blinked them away. “Stupid… that won’t help anything.” Brenda saw my distress. She came towards me, reaching out to touch my hand. “I am so very sorry, Georgie. My offer stands – about Muriel. If you change your mind, I would be glad to arrange a meeting for you.” “You are very kind. I think I’ll pack my stuff before lunch.” I ran upstairs to my room, cursing the weakness that had brought me close to tears once more. There was no point in crying again! Tears wouldn’t bring my sister back. I just wished I thought there was a chance of catching her killer. As I entered the bedroom I’d been using during my stay, I caught a faint whiff of lavender and sensed that someone had been here shortly before I arrived. Could that scent be polish – or a woman’s perfume? Glancing round, I thought some of my things might have been moved. I’d made my own bed and left my room tidy before I went out, but the cleaning woman Brenda employed to do some of the heavy work might have been here. I was on my way to the wardrobe to start packing my clothes when I saw my mobile was lying on the dressing table. I’d closed up and switched off the previous evening, leaving it beside the bed, but now the small screen was live. I had one of the new generation phones and it seemed I’d received an email. I glanced at the sender but didn’t recognize Atlas, but I pressed the button just the same, thinking it was probably a journalist trying yet another trick to get a message to me. I went cold all over as I read the message. “Hi, baby,” it began… which was how April had often started her messages to me. “I called but you didn’t answer. Don’t let me down again. Find him, Georgie. Nail the bastard who murdered us…” I was shivering as I stared at those words. It wasn’t possible! Someone was playing a macabre joke on me – someone who was able to send messages couched in similar terms to others April had sent out in the past. Who would or could do such a thing? I was certain I had switched my phone off the previous evening. I never left it switched on overnight, because that meant the battery inevitably went down when you really needed it. Even as I stared in disbelief, my phone started to ring. I picked it up, feeling nervous and half expecting to hear April’s voice. Brenda’s mumbo jumbo about contacting the dead was getting to me despite myself. “Hello,” I croaked. “Georgie,” Steve said. “Are you okay?” “Yes, fine,” I muttered, relieved. “Something odd happened just before you rang. I had an email on my mobile – and it appears to have come from April after she died.” “You’re kidding me! Who the hell would play a rotten trick like that?”

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“I’ve no idea,” I said. “It has to be someone who knows my email address – and the way April started her messages to me.” “You mean – ‘Hi, baby’? I’ve seen them come into the office. I suppose quite a few people may know that kind of thing. It’s not hard to hack into someone else’s computer if you know how. I’m always telling you to vary your passwords! And April was hopeless at security – anyone with any knowledge could break down her passwords in five minutes flat!” “That’s not quite fair, and I do try to protect my stuff – you know I do. This is sick, Steve. Who wants to hurt me like this? And there’s another odd thing. I’m sure I left my phone switched off when I went out. It was on when I came back and open for me to read my email.” “I told you not to stay there. Someone must have been messing with your things and left it on, probably because they didn’t know how to work the thing! Have they been at your laptop?” “I don’t know. If it was opened it was closed when I got here. Don’t worry my security has been breached. The passwords I use on my files are so complicated that I can’t remember them half the time.” “Are you sure you didn’t switch on the mobile yourself?” “As sure as I can be. I haven’t been my usual efficient self. Look, Steve, I’m coming back to London this afternoon. Have you checked out my phone system at home?” “Of course – there was nothing wrong.” “Okay. I’m satisfied if you are. Did you get anything useful from Inspector Thorpe? I saw him this morning in the local churchyard, but he didn’t say anything…” And I hadn’t felt like asking questions. “I’ll pop over this evening and tell you – about seven?” “That’s fine. It will give me time to sort a few things out first.” “I’m glad you’re coming back, Georgie.” “So am I after this. It’s given me the creeps!” “Just ignore it,” he advised. “It sounds as thought it might have come from someone who bears you a grudge.” “It’s something Teddy Husk might do. He probably hates me after yesterday.” “I nearly thrashed him in the pub last night. If Harry hadn’t stopped me, I think I would have floored him.” “Did you hear about his car?” “No – what happened?” “Three of the journalists” cars were vandalized last night – tires slashed, paintwork scratched. You know how much time and money Teddy spends on that car of his!” “That must have happened after I left,” Steve said. “I returned my hire car at nine-thirty and caught the next train back. Sounds as if I left just in time!” “So it must have been after nine-fifteen then.” “Yes – I left about ten past nine. I didn’t see anything unusual when I went out to my car. It’s odd, isn’t it? That the cars all belonged to journalists.” “I couldn’t swear to that. It was hearsay. The woman in the supermarket told

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me Teddy’s car was damaged.” “Serves him right,” Steve said. “I think he deserved that and more.” I laughed wryly. “I’ve been wanting to stick needles in him, but honestly speaking I should say this was bad enough. If Teddy loves anything it’s that car. I almost feel sorry for him now.” “Stay clear of him, love. He is not a nice man to know.” “The further away the better as far as I’m concerned… I think the line is breaking up. I’ll have to recharge while I have lunch. I’ll see you this evening, Steve.” “Bye.” I closed down and put my mobile on charge while I packed my things. I still felt pretty certain, in my own mind, that I had not left my phone on, but it was possible that the cleaning woman had been playing with it. It was state of the art stuff and she might have been curious, and having switched it on she probably didn’t know how to switch it off –very few people did. The email was clearly the idea of someone who wanted to punish me. Teddy Husk was the most likely – and the user name sounded like something he might choose. Unless there was a person or persons out there who hated my guts? Could April and her husband have been killed because she had been mistaken for me? Yet only a few people knew I was coming down here - Steve, Sir Melvin, Brenda and Miss Stratton – none of whom had any reason to want me dead. Miss Stratton hadn’t been that friendly towards me, and she had been behaving a little oddly, but somehow I didn’t see her as a gun happy killer. Who else could have known? Unless my phone at home had been tampered with – and Steve had just said it was okay. But there were always ways of finding out if someone really wanted to know. A shiver went through me. It was possible that someone wanted me dead. I had written some pretty harsh things about certain criminal types – and one of them might have it in for me. That was a horrible thought! Not just because it scared me, but also because it would mean April’s death had been a mistake, which made it even worse somehow. Surely not! I had dismissed the idea when Steve brought it up first, because I’d been so sure it was a contract killing. Supposing it wasn’t? That would leave two likely options – some kind of a nutter who was jealous of April or someone out for revenge! ***** Sir Melvin was sorry I had decided to leave. “You must come down again soon,” he said as we shook hands. “Not just for the funeral – but for a proper holiday. I’ve enjoyed meeting you, Georgie. Not every young woman is prepared to humor an old man.” “You aren’t,” I said, appreciating the twinkle in his eyes. “I shall certainly be in touch, as soon as they give us the go ahead. I’m very grateful for your offer, Melvin. I went to have a look – and it’s very peaceful in the churchyard.” “I thought it might appeal to you,” he said. “I am glad I was able to do

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something for you.” “I saw Inspector Thorpe while I was there,” I said. “I believe he was visiting a grave…” “That would be his daughter’s,” Melvin said. “She was killed in a road accident years ago. Sad affair. His wife left him afterwards and he seemed to fall apart for a while. I always thought perhaps that was why…” He shook his head and sighed. “Harry Thorpe isn’t such a bad chap, Georgie. You can probably trust him to do his best.” He smiled at me. “I hope we shall keep in touch, my dear.” “I shall come down occasionally,“ I told him. “Just for a couple of days now and then – to bring flowers.” I was sorry to part from him in an odd sort of way. Perhaps Steve was right and he did fancy me a little, though I preferred to think he liked me. We had got on so well that we might always have known each other. “Yes, of course.” He smiled at me. “I may come up to town soon – if I rang you, would you have lunch with me?” “Yes, I should enjoy that.” Miss Stratton gave me a brief nod in passing. She appeared to have recovered from her illness, and was busy typing on the old-fashioned machine in Sir Melvin’s office when I popped in to say goodbye. It seemed they had not yet advanced into the age of computers. Brenda came to see me to my car. “Remember that I am always here if you need me,” she said. “You are not alone, Georgie. You have friends you can turn to.” I was a little embarrassed by the sudden kiss she gave me on the cheek. Brenda was clearly an emotional young woman, though she had tried to disguise that at first. Had I told her about the email on my mobile, she would undoubtedly have believed that April was trying to get through from the other side of the grave. I did not believe that. It had given me a shock when I first saw the message, because the words were uncannily like April. When I thought about it, though, I realized that April had used those words a lot. I was not the only person she had called ‘baby’. Sometimes, she came out with something of the sort during her TV show. Anyone with a sharp mind could have put two and two together – and my email address wasn’t a state secret. I gave it to people all the time! Yet who knew that she hadn’t died immediately? Inspector Thorpe hadn’t been exactly free with his information to the Press – his sergeant was another matter, of course. An experienced journalist could have wheedled that out of him without too much effort. I had picked it up from a chance remark. So all the indications pointed to Teddy Husk. I took pleasure from the thought that at least he had been made to feel some of the pain he meted out to others. Sitting on the train on my way home, I wondered who had inflicted the damage on those cars and why. Was it some disgruntled local who had felt annoyed about something one of the journalists had written – or louts from the camp, as the villagers had seemed to think? It was a mystery, but not one that held my thoughts for long. I had other, more personal problems on my mind.

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***** There had been so many messages on my answer-phone that the tape had run out. I played it over, but apart from one of genuine sympathy from April’s producer, there was nothing I wanted to hear. I wiped the tape and reset before going to take a shower. Drying my hair on a towel, I came out of the bathroom to discover the light was flashing again. There were three calls, two from journalists and one from Fernando Rodan. “I understand you are back,” he said. “I shall come to see you this evening at eight. You have my number. Ring me back if it isn’t convenient.” It was six-fifteen now and Steve would be here shortly. I looked for Fernando’s card and remembered I had lent it to my boss. His was the middle call of the three so there was no point in trying the ring back service. Well, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t planning anything special for the evening. Besides, Fernando might have discovered something. I dried my hair, dressed in a black halter-top and hipster pants. I needed something to lift the outfit and looked in my trinket box for a pearl choker April had given me. In the tiny drawer at the bottom was a key – the key to my sister’s apartment. “I want you to keep this,” she’d told me once. “You know how to switch off the alarm. Just in case I don’t come back from my travels one day. You’ll find everything you need in the safe – and the combination is my birthday followed by yours.” “Don’t!” I’d begged, feeling upset by the suggestion that she might die unexpectedly. “I don’t need to know this.” “Probably not,” she had agreed, “but someone has to – and I’m afraid you’re it.” We’d hugged each other, knowing that, at that time, we were really all we both had. Aunt Jane hardly knew one day from another, most of the time. And there was no one else. Aunt Jane had told us our parents were dead. “April’s mother committed suicide,” she had told me privately. “Her father – well, no one ever knew who he was. Your parents were both killed in a car crash abroad, Georgie. In America, I think.” I hadn’t pressed her for more details. She and Uncle Bill – as we had learned to call him, after his death – had been our parents. There seemed no point in trying to find the grave of people that I had never known. April hadn’t been so sure. “Wouldn’t you like to find out more?” she’d asked me once. “I know it doesn’t really matter – but it might be good to know who we really are.” “I know who we are,” I’d told her confidently. “Our parents have gone, April. It wouldn’t help me to know where mine are buried now. We should let the past go.” I had known she wasn’t satisfied. I supposed the mystery about her father’s identity had tantalized her. Her mother was dead, but her father could possibly still be alive.

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Perhaps I might have felt differently if there had been a chance that my father was still alive, although I had held back from trying to trace my family mainly because I felt it would be disloyal to Aunt Jane. It would seem that now she was ill, I was abandoning her to find a new family for myself. I was aware at that moment that I was now very much alone. I had friends, of course, especially Steve – but I didn’t belong to anyone. I didn’t have anyone special of my own that I could talk to. That made me feel sad. I found myself remembering Sir Melvin’s kindness. If anything, his behavior towards me had been more avuncular than anything else. I had liked both him and his house, and I was touched by his generous offer. Giving April’s ashes – and those of her husband (for Juan was married to her as far as I was concerned), a beautiful place to rest, was something I would never forget. ***** Steve let out an admiring wolf whistle, as I opened the door to him a little later. “I don’t think I’ve seen that outfit before,” he said. “You look wonderful, Georgie.” “Thank you.” I blushed, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the warmth in his eyes. I was beginning to think he had been serious when he spoke about us moving in together. “I’m making coffee – or would you prefer something stronger?” “Coffee is fine,” he said, perching at the edge of my desk, as I moved towards the kitchen. “So what have you been working on? Anything I can help with?” “No, not this time. It’s something different. I’m not even sure it’s going to be anything you would want to publish, Steve. I’ll show you when I feel I’m getting there.” “Okay,” he agreed easily. “You want to know what Harry Thorpe told me in confidence – right?” “Yes. Let’s get that over first.” “He thinks it was more likely to have been a nutter than a contract killing. The shooting was wild, wounding haphazardly rather than a clean shot. Juan took a bullet in the chest – it looks as if he might have tried to disarm the gunman. He was killed just inside the cottage. April was shot several times, first in the sitting room and again as she was running forward…” I drew a sharp sobbing breath as I pictured the scene. Juan must have opened the front door to someone. April was in the next room, perhaps with the TV on… it was painful to think of what she must have felt and suffered. “Do they know what kind of gun was used?” “It seems to be old army issue – donkeys’ years old, probably.” “An army revolver? There must be thousands of those knocking around in the country.” “Yes. Harry said there was some scoring on the bullets. It should be an easy match if they find the gun.” “And that could be anywhere by now, of course.” “The police probably have more chance of finding him if it is a nutter,” Steve

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said. “They are going to want access to April’s files. If someone has been stalking her…threatening her… a fan perhaps or a lover she broke with who might have been jealous because she had got married.” “Yes, I understand,” I said. “Her office will have anything that was directed at the show, but I have access to her apartment. I could meet the police there – if that’s what they want. Her alarm will need to be dealt with, and there’s a safe.” “You know the combination?” “Yes. April made sure of that – so that I could sort things out if I had to.” “Ring Harry Thorpe tomorrow,” Steve said. “He gave you his personal number, didn’t he?” “Yes. I shall have to ring him.” I sighed. There was no escaping from my responsibilities, painful as they might be. “I’ll get the coffee now.” When I returned with the tray, Steve had settled in front of the TV. The news was on, but he switched it off as I came in and stood up, coming to take the tray from me and set it down. I was conscious of him hovering uncertainly, and thought he was trying to protect me from whatever had been on the news. “Were they talking about April?” “Yes – something about her lover having been working undercover for the American Narcotics Bureau.” “Fernando told me that his brother was involved in secret work. He must have decided to give the story to the TV. Perhaps that’s why he is coming over this evening, to warn me to expect something on the news.” “You didn’t tell me that bit, Georgie.” Steve frowned, seeming slightly put out that I hadn’t confided in him. He looked at me for a moment, before adding, “I wouldn’t trust Rodan too much, if I were you.” “You’re always telling me not to trust people,” I said. Why was he so down on every man I met these days? “I think Fernando is on the level, over this, at least.” “Maybe.” Steve’s eyes narrowed. I saw a little pulse flicking in his throat, and realized he was trying to control his emotions. I turned away, wishing he wouldn’t say any more. “Don’t fall for him the way April did for his brother – they weren’t married. His divorce papers were late coming through, some trouble because he was a Catholic.” “But he intended to marry April,” I said, glancing back at him. “I’m sure it was just a mistake. If they hadn’t been properly married… I’m sure he would have married her again. They were in love.” Steve looked skeptical. “I’m just trying to protect you, Georgie.” “Thanks – but I’m a big girl. I haven’t needed any protection before this and I don’t need it now.” He moved in closer, his eyes holding mine. I tried to look away, but he touched my chin with one finger, persuading me to look at him. I did so reluctantly, guessing what was coming and trying to hold him off. Steve was one of the best people I knew, and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. “Georgie…don’t be like this. You know I care for you…” “We’re friends, Steve. You know that’s all it has ever been. Don’t try to make more of it…” I broke off as I saw reproach in his eyes. “It worked well. We neither of us ever wanted more…”

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“Not at first…” “Steve…please, don’t…” I didn’t want this. We were best friends and I was afraid of change, afraid of losing what I already had. “We both have our own lives…” “It doesn’t always have to be that way. I had no choice…the way things were with Petra - and Ron so ill,” Steve said and his eyes seemed to be asking for understanding. “It’s going to be different now. I’ve cut the strings, Georgie. I’m looking for a new life, a new future, and I thought, maybe, we might be good together?” “I’m not sure, Steve. We’ve been good the way we were. Why can’t it stay that way?” “Because…I think I’m in love with you,” he said. “It’s been coming on for a while, but I wasn’t ready to handle it before.” “Well, I’m certainly not at this moment,” I said. Why was he doing this to me? I needed Steve around, he was my best friend – but I didn’t need complications. Not at this moment. “I can’t think about this now, Steve. My sister has been murdered and my emotions are in a mess. If we tried this, it would go wrong. I really care about you, but I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” “It’s my fault,” he said, looking contrite. “It has been on my mind for weeks, but I’ve dropped it on you from a great height. I should have known you couldn’t cope at this moment. Forget it for the time being – but think it over when you’re ready?” “Yes, of course,” I said, hardly looking at him. “Give me some time, Steve.” “I was going to ask you out to dinner…” “Not this evening. Fernando is coming over, and I’m not in the mood.” “I may as well go then…” “Yes.” I managed a wry grin. “We do need each other, Steve – but I’m not sure about the rest.” He looked rueful and disappointed as he left. I was sorry if I had hurt him. Steve was special to me, but I hadn’t considered a more intimate relationship. In the past I had seldom found sex more than a fleeting pleasure, good while it lasted but forgotten in a few hours. It would be a pity to lose the secure friendship I had known with Steve for the past couple of years. I was still trying to sort out my thoughts when the street bell rang. I checked my security camera, and then pressed the release button, opening my door to Fernando Rodan a few seconds later. “Hi,” I said, feeling oddly shy, for no particular reason. He was wearing a dark grey, silk suit with a black shirt opened at the neck, revealing a glimpse of smooth, tanned skin. Now that I had calmed down a bit, I recognized him for what he obviously was, a very sexy, attractive man. “Please come in…” “Thank you, Georgie.” He smiled, and my heart suddenly did a back flip. That smile had a friendliness about it that I found extremely appealing, and I wondered if I had been wrong about this man. I’d written him off as being a hardnosed businessman, but now I was beginning to think he might be rather charming. “Would you like coffee or something different?”

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“I wondered if we might go out for a meal,” he suggested. “Somewhere quiet and intimate, where we can talk without being overheard or stared at.” “Yes, if that’s what you want,” I said, feeling slightly guilty as I remembered that I had refused Steve’s offer. “Had you somewhere particular in mind?” “I booked just in case,” he said. “We have half an hour before we need to be there. My driver will pick us up in ten minutes – time enough to discuss the funeral arrangements.” “Are they giving us the go ahead?” “Yes. I managed to persuade someone that there was really no need to delay any longer than absolutely necessary. We can arrange for a collection on Monday. Certificates of Death by Unlawful Killing are being issued. You will be able to register the details after that.” He was trying to be tactful, but it all sounded so clinical. Deaths had to be registered, the formalities gone through despite one’s grief. How was it possible to do that, when all I wanted to do was scream at someone? It was unfair, unjust – but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I blinked back my tears, lifting my head. “God, I wish this was over!” He gave me a look of concern. “Don’t imagine I’m indifferent to all this, Georgie. I know you’re going through hell – and I’ll help in anyway I can. If there’s anything you want, just ask.” “Thanks…I’m not sure I deserve this.” “You don’t deserve what has happened,” he said softly. “Nor did April. If I could I would turn back the clock and make it right for you – you do know that?” “I’ll cope.” His concern was showing me his softer side, and it made me want to weep in his arms, but I was determined not to give in to this pain inside me. “Thanks, but I really can manage.” “But you will remember I’m available if you need me?” “Yes, of course.” Pride helped me conquer an excess of emotion. “I shall have to contact April’s lawyers. The police want access to her flat. I shall have to let them in – alarms and things.” Fernando nodded, looking thoughtful. “Have you considered going there yourself first – just to make sure there’s nothing you would rather the police didn’t see?” “I hadn’t thought of that…” I looked into his eyes. “Do you think I should?” “It might be wise.” “Yes, I suppose so. I’ll go tomorrow morning – before I phone the police.” “If April gave you her key and made you aware of all the necessary details, she probably wanted you to be the first on the scene.” “Yes, that makes sense. I can’t see why – or what she had to hide, but I shall take a look first.” “Are you all right going alone? If you need company…” “No, I can manage, thanks.” I produced a watery smile. “If I’m going to cry I would prefer not to have a witness.” He nodded. “Back to business then. I’ve learned that it looks as if it wasn’t a contract killing after all.”

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“Yes. Steve was here earlier. He told me that’s what the police think.” “So it means that it may have been a fan, who was jealous because April got married – or just a nutter.” “Unless whoever it was thought she was me? I was supposed to be staying at the cottage, not April.” “But not many people would have known that – would they?” “Unless my security had been breached somehow. All my appointments are logged into my computer.” “A possibility, of course.” He frowned. “In that case you should be very careful, Georgie. If he tried once and got the wrong sister, he might have another go.” “Yes…” I shuddered. “I have good security here. All I can do is to avoid being out late at night alone.” “You could hire a bodyguard.” “That’s going a bit far! I’m still convinced April was the target, Fernando. Steve thinks there’s a possibility of something else – but I’ve never actually been threatened. At least…” “Yes? You’ve remembered something?” I told him about the strange email I’d received. “Ghosts don’t use the Internet,” he said. “Why bother – when they could simply appear at the foot of your bed and moan at you?” I laughed as he’d intended. His eyes were dark and thoughtful as he looked at me. “Someone wanted to hurt you – to punish you or make you nervous.” “Yes. I think it was Teddy Husk. You remember him – you stopped him hitting me and he wrote that vile piece for the evening paper.” “Ah yes, Mr. Husk,” Fernando said. “Something may have to be done about him.” “It already has!” I explained about his car. “A childish prank,” Fernando said contemptuously. “It will merely make him more spiteful. A man like that needs to be treated with respect. Mr. Husk would make a formidable enemy. I may sue for libel. My lawyers are considering whether or not I have a cast-iron case. If I go for him, I don’t intend that he shall wriggle free.” “Good! I like a man who gets what he wants.” “Oh, you can be sure I usually do that.” Fernando laughed but not in an unkind way, and then glanced at his watch. “My driver will be waiting,” he said. “We had better go down.” I picked my jacket up. Fernando took it from me and placed it around my shoulders. His hand brushed against my bare skin, sending a quiver through me. I was very aware of him in a sexual sense, much more so than any other man I knew – but I was determined to fight it. I wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship! And particularly not with a man like this one. He was tough and sexy, and I was beginning to find him fascinating, but he wasn’t for me.

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CHAPTER SIX Glancing nervously over my shoulder, I let myself into April’s flat, early the next morning. I was feeling uncomfortable at being here at all, and I was exhausted. I hadn’t slept well – and that might have been due, in part, to the kiss Fernando had given me when he’d escorted me home at the end of the evening. “Thank you,” he’d said simply, and bent his head to brush his lips softly over mine. “I’ll be in touch soon, Georgie.” Then he had smiled and walked away, leaving me feeling as if I’d been consumed by fire. If he had asked to stay, I would not have refused, which was stupid! I was well aware that any relationship with a man like Fernando was doomed to die a painful death. We were from different worlds! I should be a fool to let him into my life and, normally, I would have stayed well clear, but at the moment I was feeling vulnerable. Perhaps that was why I had let myself begin to like a man I knew wasn’t for me, but it might also have had something to do with the fact that he was funny, generous and intelligent. We were from different worlds, but the glimpses of the real man he’d shown me, as we’d talked the previous evening, had caught my interest in a way I hadn’t expected. He was an amusing and charming companion, and I had discovered that we thought alike on more subjects than I would have imagined. He was very interested in the world around him, and his knowledge of what was happening on a global scale had impressed me. As had the fact that he was prepared to treat me as an equal, something few men, other than Steve, ever did. I’d imagined Fernando belonged to the male chauvinist brigade because of that disastrous first meeting, but I was fast learning that that was not the case. Despite my natural caution, I was already looking forward to seeing him again. I had to suspend all personal thoughts as I dealt with the alarm just inside April’s apartment. That done, I snapped the security bolt on and glanced around me. The main feature was a sumptuous, cream, leather suite, but the rest of the furniture was antique and expensive. It was very much the home of a celebrity. April’s collection of paintings was valuable, though there were some odd prints that she’d picked up just for fun. She had often bought things on impulse, and her books, DVD films and records were much like what you might find in any reasonably well-paid woman’s home. She also had a lovely show of glass, ranged on shelves along one wall. I thought of the wedding present she had never received, and my throat tightened. “Oh, April,” I said. “Why? Why?” I almost turned tail right then, but I took a grip on myself. I was here for a purpose, and I had to go through with it – I owed that much to April. The police would go through everything thoroughly. I could leave it to them to look for evidence as to the identity of her killer. April had made a point of telling me the combination of her wall safe, which meant that anything she wanted me to find would be there. I would investigate the contents, and leave the rest for the police. The safe was in her bedroom, behind a small mirror. As I went in, I saw her

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dressing robe lying over the back of a chair, and the smell of her perfume brought her back to me so sharply that I gasped. Her jewelry box was on the dressing table, but that would only contain trinkets. Anything good would be with her or in the safe. Her instructions had been so clear that it was an easy matter to open the safe. On the top shelf I found her Will, which I would need to send to her lawyers. There were share documents and several deeds to property I hadn’t even known she owned, and those, too, I would send to her lawyer. Underneath these was a folder marked “Private” in red ink. April had written my name on the folder and underlined it. Obviously, this was what she had particularly wanted me to find. I slipped it into my shoulder bag, together with the other documents, closed the safe and replaced the mirror. Then I left the bedroom, went back into the hall and reset the alarm before leaving. I walked very fast for a distance of several streets, and then took a taxi home. I was shaking inside. It had been even more of an ordeal than I had imagined. I’d felt so guilty! Like an intruder. As if I’d had no right to be there. Why did it have to happen? Why did April have to die? I loved her and needed her – I didn’t want her possessions, even though I supposed they would probably come to me, as her marriage hadn’t been legal. The painful thoughts went round and round in my head, as I tried to understand what had happened and why, but there were no answers that made sense. Perhaps I would find some answers in the folder marked “Private”? It must contain something important or April wouldn’t have kept it in her safe. Did it have anything to do with her death? When I walked into my apartment building, I was greeted with a big smile from the caretaker as he handed me a large, cellophane box, containing a single red rose. “From one of your admirers, Miss Langley,” he said. “Romantic sort, ain’t he?” “It certainly looks like it, Fred. Thank you for taking care of this for me.” “Didn’t want to leave it in the hall in case it got lost,” he said, and his smile faded. “I was sorry to hear about your sister, miss.” “Thank you. It was a terrible shock.” He nodded, but didn’t try to detain me as I made for the stairs, running up them two at a time. I was getting used to people offering me sympathy, but it was very hard to take. I opened the cellophane box and saw that the rose carried a card with Fernando’s signature and nothing else. The thoughtfulness behind his gift made me smile, banishing the hurt for a moment as I inhaled the rose’s lovely perfume and put it in water. He had known I would appreciate its simplicity rather than something more elaborate. Fred was right; it was a romantic gesture. I made strong coffee and drank two cups straight down. Without glancing at April’s Will, I placed it in an envelope, together with the other documents, and wrote a brief note to her lawyer before sealing it. Then I rang for a courier to collect

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the package. After that, I sat down and opened the folder. My hands were shaking. I was terrified by what I might find, but my fear turned to surprise when I saw there were lots of photographs of April and me as children – many of them I did not recall ever having seen before. Some were badly taken snapshots of a pretty, fair-haired woman with a child in her arms. I frowned over one of them. Surely I’d seen that one before? Where? I couldn’t think for a moment, and then it came to me – it was the same as one that had been cut to fit inside a small, silver locket April had often worn when she was little. I hadn’t seen it for years but, knowing April, she would still have it somewhere. Was this woman April’s mother – the woman who had been deserted by her lover and who had then committed suicide? It seemed likely that she was, and I understood why April had wanted to know more about her; she had a rather sweet smile. Where had April found these photographs – and why had she thought it important that I should see them? I continued to glance through them until the bell rang. Checking, I saw that it was the courier, and went downstairs to give him the package for the solicitors. We spoke in the street for a couple of minutes, perhaps, and then, as I turned away, a hand grabbed hold of my arm and I saw that Teddy Husk had crept up on me without my noticing it. He had a habit of doing that, and I didn’t like it. “Would you mind taking your hand away?” “Say please, Georgie.” His eyes narrowed with menace. “I was hoping for a little chat with you.” He looked so pleased with himself that I was tempted to hit him, but the chances of Fernando turning up to save me again were slim. I decided to play safe and contented myself with giving him a slaying look. “You have as much chance of that as an ice cube has of surviving in hell!” “Okay. I know I was out of line the other day…” “You were more than that, Teddy!” “The scum of this world deserve all they can get.” “Are you speaking of Fernando Rodan?” I frowned as I saw the answer in his face. “If I were you I would be careful. You might just have met your match there, Teddy.” “He won’t sue. He has too much to hide.” “Maybe you should check your facts for a change.” He leered at me. “Fancy him, do you? Watch out, Georgie. You’re the one in danger of getting burned.” “Get lost, Teddy. I’ve nothing to tell you – and I wouldn’t if I had.” “Maybe I know something you ought to know.” “Like what?” “An exchange of information. You tell me why the police don’t think it’s a contract killing, and I’ll tell you something about April you might find interesting.” “Keep digging, Teddy,” I said. “And don’t try to con me again.” I went inside quickly and shut the door. He was ringing the bell as I walked

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to the lift. I didn’t bother to look back. Even if he really knew anything, Teddy was the last one I was going to trust! He was just trying it on, of course. What could he know that would interest me? The thought niggled at the back of my mind. Supposing he really knew something? Of course he didn’t! My telephone was ringing when I got back to the flat. I hadn’t set the answerphone and I snatched it up in a hurry. “Georgina Langley…” “Oh, Georgie, I was beginning to think you were out.” Brenda’s voice sounded breathy with anxiety. “How are you? Have you had more trouble with the Press? “Hardly any,” I replied. “There were several messages waiting for me, but the only one who has waylaid me so far has been Teddy Husk.” “That man!” she said. “He really is too bad, Georgie. I hope you told him to go away.” “Yes, I did – he says he knows something I should know about April, but I think he was just trying to con me into giving him information the police haven’t made public yet.” “What could he possibly know about your sister that you don’t? He was trying it on, Georgie.” “Yes, I’m sure you are right. April and I were so close – if there was anything I should know she would have told me.” “He is just a very unpleasant man. You mustn’t trust him,” Brenda said. “Well, you take care of yourself. When are you coming down again?” “Soon. We shall be able to have the funeral next week.” “That will help you settle your mind,” she said solicitously. “I’ve been so anxious about you, Georgie. I’m not sure you should be alone at a time like this.” “I’m used to being alone. And I have friends. Please don’t worry about me, Brenda.” She hesitated, then, “I went to see Muriel. She says she might be able to help. I took a scarf of yours. You left it behind and it smelled of your perfume… she felt the vibes immediately and wants to see you. She says it is very important that she talks to you.” “I don’t believe in psychic contact with the dead, Brenda.” “But perhaps you need help. Muriel was really worried about you. Won’t you let me arrange a meeting when you’re down? It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.” “I’ll think about it,” I said to please her. “Look, I have to go now, Brenda. Thank you for ringing. I’ll let you know when I’m coming down.” “Please do think about it,” she urged. “I don’t know why, but I’m worried about your safety.” I found myself wishing she wouldn’t worry so much as I replaced the receiver. Her constant urging to see this psychic was beginning to give me the creeps. I didn’t want to get drawn into any of this. Nothing was going to bring my sister back. I glanced at the folder of photographs. Still tucked inside was an envelope,

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which looked as if might be a letter in April’s handwriting, but I couldn’t face looking at any more of this stuff for the moment. Brenda’s talk about her psychic friend had made me uncomfortable – why the hell should this woman want to see me so urgently? I thought the folder was evidence that April had been trying to trace her family, and perhaps mine too. Knowing her, if she started something like that she would do it for both of us, despite my lack of interest. I might find it interesting to see what she had discovered another day, but I didn’t think the contents of the folder held any clues as to why she had been murdered. I gathered the pictures up, closed the folder and tucked it into the top drawer of my desk, then picked up the phone and dialed Inspector Thorpe’s number. “It’s Georgie Langley,” I said when his voice answered. “Miss Langley. Have you thought of something?” “Not really. April didn’t say anything to me about being pestered or followed recently. It’s just that Steve told me you wanted access to April’s apartment. I have the key and the codes you need for the alarm and safe. I could meet you there tomorrow if you like?” “Yes, if you’re ready for that. We’ve collected some stuff from your sister’s office, and my staff is working their way through it, but so far we haven’t come across any leads. We might find something at the apartment. Names of old lovers, letters – anything that could give us a clue as to why someone would want to kill April.” “You don’t think it was a contract killing, do you?” “We are pretty sure it wasn’t. Whoever shot your sister and Juan Rodan was an amateur, Miss Langley. It was an old army-type pistol, the kind of thing lying around in drawers or attics. No self-respecting gunman would use a weapon like that.” “Yes, I see. You think it was a stalker or a crazy guy then?” “We are keeping an open mind.” “When are you going to release this to the Press?” “Soon, I imagine. We wanted to keep an element of surprise while we were considering the idea of a contract killing – but if this was a stalker, someone may have seen something. Not the night your sister was killed, but previously. At the moment we don’t have much to go on.” “No, I realize that,” I said. “You need a motive and some suspects.” “We may find clues amongst your sister’s personal things. You’re sure she hadn’t mentioned anything about being upset by an overeager fan or anything like that? No obscene calls or poison pen letters?” “Not recently. She was used to it, of course. She’d had her telephone number changed a couple of months back, but the calls she had been getting were just a nuisance. Mostly from fans that couldn’t resist calling her, just wanting to talk to her really. As far as I know, she was perfectly happy, not worried about anything. She was just the same as always before she flew off to New York. It was only when the Press got hold of the fact that she was married to a South American that she became upset – and she was always a bit paranoid about journalists.” “Ah yes, her disappearance for a few days…”

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“She got married – at least she believed she was married.” “Mr. Fernando Rodan has explained that side of things, Miss Langley. You can probably take the marriage as genuine by intention if not by law.” “It was because she was frightened for her husband that I told her to go down to Norfolk. Something must have happened that day – somehow the Press got hold of the story and April panicked.” “Yes, we know Mr. Rodan was involved in undercover work with the Americans, and that it was true there might have been a contract out on him -–but we believe that someone else got there first. The suggestion that she go to Whitney came entirely from you?” “We had intended to have dinner together that evening, but then an article in the papers seemed to frighten her. She wouldn’t have been at the cottage if she hadn’t said it was imperative that they disappear.” “But you had intended to go down the next day yourself? You haven’t been getting any threatening calls, Miss Langley?” “I would have told you at once if I had.” “I hope you won’t keep anything from me, Miss Langley. I wouldn’t like to have yet another murder investigation on my hands.” “You’re making me nervous!” “Better safe than sorry, miss. We have to explore every avenue. There is a slight chance that you were the target. You are both blonde, pretty, young women. It would be easy enough to make a mistake. Especially if the murderer was nervous.” “Yes, I suppose so.” I shivered and turned cold all over. The idea wasn’t pleasant and harder to shrug off now that I was alone. Teddy had found it easy enough to grab me in broad daylight. “What time shall we meet tomorrow?” “I can be there by ten-thirty if that’s all right with you?” “Yes, fine. Goodbye then.” “Goodbye, Miss Langley. Don’t forget you have my number. If you have reason to be frightened, ring me. I’ll have someone out to you much faster than a normal emergency call.” “Thank you, but I’m sure it won’t be necessary.” I put the phone down abruptly, beginning to feel jittery. I had planned on working at home, but suddenly the walls seemed to be closing in on me and I needed company. I decided to do some research at the British Library in St. Pancras, and phoned to ask if it was okay to come in. I would spend a few hours going through their microfilm records of newspapers from twenty years ago. Not that I imagined there was any connection between April’s murder and the stabbing of Janice Creek. Something had intrigued me about the old mystery, perhaps because of what Rose had said concerning Sir Melvin. It had sounded as though he had been a suspect for a while. Had he been Janice Creek's lover? Was she that special someone he had cared for years ago? I had no intention of writing a story about the earlier crime, though I had considered it for a while. Now I was reluctant to do anything that would hurt Sir Melvin. It had become a personal thing. I wanted to know why my generous host had been suspected of murdering a woman, living in an isolated cottage on his

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estate… ***** Harry stared at the receiver before replacing it. That Miss Langley was a bit of a fire-eater. Maybe that was why she had been playing on his mind since their meeting in the churchyard. It was stupid and he had nothing to go on, no reason for it – but he had this uneasy feeling, in his guts, about her being in danger. It was nonsense of course. Sergeant Bryne was convinced the murder of April Langley was down to some nutter – a fan that had become insanely jealous when he discovered that the woman he worshipped from afar had been secretly married. Harry knew it was also the opinion of his superiors, who had been urging him to make some headway with the case – but he still couldn’t get it out of his mind that there was more to this case. He’d had some rather unpleasant dreams recently. Dreams of the child Belinda crawling in her mother’s blood. Sometimes he still wondered what had happened to her and where she was. It wasn’t easy to get hold of information like that. Her identity would be protected because of the way her mother had died and other things. He shook his head, annoyed that he should be letting the old case get to him again. Sometimes he felt as if he were losing his grip… ***** It took me an hour or so to research the files of various National newspapers for any reports on the murder of Janice Creek. The crime had been reported in most of them, and there was mention of an anonymous tip off to the police – which struck me as a little odd. Who had made that call and why? Had the murderer suffered an attack of conscience? One or two of the reports mentioned that Janice had been a bit of a recluse, and that her cottage was on Sir Melvin’s estate. In one paper, his intention of running for Parliament was given half a paragraph, and two reports hinted that the police had a suspect in mind, but there was no direct reference to Sir Melvin. The crime was actively reported for some weeks, and then everything went quiet for months, until the report of a man arrested in Whitney Woods being found hanged in police custody. One paper had hinted that the mystery of Janice Creek’s murder might have been solved but, after that, there was nothing. The Press had lost interest. They were much more tenacious when it came to the later reports of Sir Melvin’s son having run off the road, with lots of veiled references to Ralph having used drugs in the early reports. There was barely a mention of the fact that he had actually died of a heart attack. It wasn’t surprising to me that Sir Melvin did not exactly love the Press. At the end of my search I had still not found a direct reference to Sir Melvin having been suspected of the crime anywhere. Perhaps that was just a local thing then? Speculation in the minds of village people – but it must have been fairly strong locally if it had prevented Sir Melvin getting elected. I found one report with a rather good photograph of Sir Melvin as a younger man, and another with a very blurred picture of Janice Creek. She appeared to be

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wearing a uniform, and I saw that she had been in the Wrens for a few months before her marriage. So she had been married then, that was interesting. I wondered if I had missed something about her husband, and discovered, from further searching, that he had been killed in a car accident abroad somewhere. Janice had gone to live on the estate some months after that, and continued to live there for four years until her death… Hang on! My mind was performing rapid calculations. Her daughter was only two and a bit when the murder occurred. So the child wasn’t her husband’s, which meant… there would have been a lot of talk in the village when Janice was pregnant. People would wonder about the father, and the fact that she was living on Sir Melvin’s estate would lead to the conclusion that he was the most likely candidate … what was the child’s name? I’d made a note of it somewhere… ah, yes, Belinda. The questions started popping into my head. Was Sir Melvin Belinda’s father? Was he having an affair with Janice Creek before she was murdered? It wasn’t necessarily so, but I had to admit that it was likely – hence all the rumor and speculation locally. People thought Sir Melvin might have quarreled with Janice and killed her. So they expected an arrest but it hadn’t happened, and they punished the man by refusing to vote for him. Rough justice! Especially if he were innocent. I considered the probability of his guilt or otherwise from what little I knew of him, but it was impossible to gauge. The man I’d met seemed too well-balanced and charming to be a murderer, but it could have been a crime of passion… if Janice had cheated on him. Speculation! It could only be speculation. The police clearly hadn’t been able to prove anything. Twenty years had passed and the mystery was still unsolved. The trail would have gone cold long ago – unless the vagrant who had died in the cells… His name was John White of no fixed abode. The police report said he had been seen loitering in the woods, the previous year, and was known to be a surly type, but that wasn’t a crime. Apparently, he’d been banned from the local pubs for being violent, and was suspected of breaking and entering properties in the area. Nothing else of importance about him had been reported – no mention of a family. Obviously no one had come forward to claim him, and perhaps the police hadn’t tried too hard to trace his relatives. In the circumstances it was probably easier to let it all fade away – relatives might have asked awkward questions. I was curious about this man who might, or might not, have been involved in the murder of Janice Creek. It would not be possible to trace him through the register of births and deaths, of course. I had nothing to go on, no proof that he was called John White. I might be able to discover more about Janice’s husband, though and perhaps the identity of her child’s father. It was certainly worth having a go –but not for the moment. I had done enough research into an old story for one day. It was time I got on with some work. ***** I spent most of the evening working on stories that were really just following

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up things Steve and I had done before, and I read through the material that Sir Melvin had lent me. It was actually rather good; I would be able to use some of it. At half past eight I rang Steve, but he wasn’t home. I hesitated before trying Fernando’s number. I was told it was unavailable for the moment and pulled a face; it had taken courage to actually ring him. But perhaps it was just as well that he wasn’t available. For some reason, I was restless and I went to take a bath, feeling oddly uneasy, though I couldn’t have said why. Something was nagging at the back of my mind, but I didn’t know what – was it April or the murder of Janice Creek? The two kept running together in my mind as if there was a connection, but of course there couldn’t be. Why should the death of a woman, twenty years ago, have anything to do with April? It couldn’t, of course it couldn’t. This feeling of having overlooked something was because I’d been trying to do too many things at once. I was muddling it all up in my mind, which was unlike me. I was usually very clear and precise in my work. There were no similarities between the two murders, none at all. Nothing that could remotely connect them. No, it was ridiculous! I was letting my imagination run away with me. I walked into the sitting room, with a towel wrapped round my head, and flicked the TV on, in time for the news. For a moment I stared blankly, as a familiar face came on to the screen. Why was Teddy Husk in the news? I pressed the sound button hastily to bring the volume up. “The police consider the death suspicious…” What? What had I missed? There must be some mistake! The presenter had moved on to something else. Damn! I flicked over the channels hoping to hear more, but then my mobile rang. “Yes, who is it?” “Steve.” He sounded worried. “Did you catch the news, Georgie?” “About Teddy? What happened? I thought they said he was dead but I only heard a few words.” “He was killed earlier this evening – a hit and run accident.” “Hit by a car – where?” I could hardly believe it! “He was here earlier today...” “He must have decided to go back to Whitney. He was actually coming out of a pub just outside the village. The Swan – it’s a dangerous spot with a blind corner. Apparently, a white van came round the corner, ran him straight down and shot off without stopping.” “That’s horrible,” I said, feeling slightly sick. “Did anyone get the van’s number?” “If they did, the police aren’t saying anything, but I doubt it. That stretch of road is a bit isolated. Probably not many people would have seen the incident.” “Was it an accident do you think?” “What do you mean?” Steve’s voice was slightly hoarse. “Some drunk I imagine.” “Yes…” Except that my nerves were screaming, and I had the most horrible feeling in my guts. “Could he have upset someone, Steve? Teddy must have had

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enemies – and it sounds so deliberate.” “It isn’t long since I was seen to hit him.” “I didn’t mean you, Steve, of course I didn’t!” “I won’t say I haven’t been tempted to clobber him more than once, in the past – but if this was deliberate it was murder.” “Yes…” I felt cold all over. “I said I wished he would drop dead of a heart attack, but I didn’t mean it. Even this morning… he said he knew something I should know about April. I told him to get lost.” “Best thing you could do,” Steve said. “He was just trying to get an exclusive interview, Georgie, to gain your confidence, so that you would talk about your sister. How could he know something? April always told you everything, didn’t she?” “Most things,” I agreed. “I didn’t believe him then – but now I’m wondering…” “Well, don’t,” Steve said sharply. “Forget it. Forget you ever spoke to him. It’s not worth getting involved with scum like that.” “No, of course not. Where are you, Steve? I rang you half an hour ago and your answering service was on.” “I’m in Norwich,” he said sounding defensive. “I came down to check something out.” “What kind of something?” “Just something…” He hesitated. “It could make things awkward for me, Georgie.” “Because of the row with Teddy? Surely not! No one could think you would do something like that.” “They might,” Steve said. “But it’s not my style.” “Of course it isn’t! You’re subtler than that – you would have done something with panache. Like a poison dart possibly? Or a sonic wave that turns the brain to mush. Nothing so messy as a hit and run!” “Steve of the Amazon?” He chuckled. “Thanks, Georgie. I was feeling squeamish but that’s sorted me.” “Only an idiot would suspect you – but I’ve got a gut feeling about this, Steve. I think someone might have done it deliberately.” “Who? Not you or me – Rodan perhaps? He strikes me as being ruthless enough to order a hit and run. He wouldn’t have done it himself, of course. Anyway, I think he was leaving for New York this afternoon.” “Oh, he didn’t say…” I wondered why that disappointed me. “I don’t think Fernando did it, Steve. Maybe it is all in my mind. It could have been just an accident.” “We’ll have to wait and see what the police make of it.” “Yes, I expect that’s best.” “I’ll see you tomorrow at the office?” “Yes, yes, of course.” I was frowning as I rang off, then, more out of idleness than anything else, I flicked the button to see if any email had come in for me. There was a message from Atlas. A shiver went through me as I remembered the last one from that source, but I

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pressed to bring it up on screen anyway. “Your fucking sister was the daughter of a murderer – see what you make of that since you’re so clever.” I gasped with horror and threw the phone down as if it had burnt me. Only one person could have sent me that – and he was dead!

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CHAPTER SEVEN I was shaking all over. The message I was certain had come from Teddy had really got to me this time, partly because I knew he had been killed a few hours earlier, which gave it a creepy feel. He must, of course, have sent the message after we parted, furious with me for having refused to listen or talk to him. I mustn’t let my imagination take over. There was no way I was being sent messages from beyond the grave. This was just Teddy getting back at me because I had refused to speak to him. I began to think about the content of the message rather than anything else. What the hell did he mean about April being the child of a murderer? How could he know something like that when April didn’t know who her own father was… or did she? Was there a connection here somewhere I was missing? Suddenly I was desperate to look through April’s folder again. Something had clicked into place, and I knew what had been bugging me earlier in the day. The photograph of a woman with a child in her arms – and Janice Creek in her Wren’s uniform. Neither picture had been particularly clear but my nerve ends were tingling as I took the folder back to the settee, and that was usually a sure sign that I was on to something. I looked feverishly for the photo I’d noticed earlier. A fair-haired woman with a child in her arms – a picture I was almost certain I’d seen in April’s silver locket that she had cherished so much as a child. When I found it, I stared at the picture for several minutes. Yes, it could be the woman I’d seen in the newspaper files. It was too blurred to be absolutely certain, but there was definitely a resemblance – and if it was the same as the one in April’s locket… It could mean that she was the daughter of Janice Creek and that her father was… Sir Melvin? Steady up! I rebuked myself sternly. I was jumping to conclusions here. I had to look at this in a cold clinical manner. I couldn’t be sure this woman was Janice Creek – or that she was April’s mother. I flicked through the photographs again and came to the envelope with my name on it. It contained a letter to me from April. “Hi, baby,” she’d written. “If you’re reading this I’m probably not around any more. So I’d like to say I love you, Georgie. We were closer than sisters, but unfortunately we’re not. I know that now for sure, though I’d always hoped to discover we really were after all. They shouldn’t have lied to us and they did, to both of us. I haven’t finished digging yet, but I’m getting closer. I might have exciting news for us both soon – yes, both! I believe we both have one parent living, which is quite odd, isn’t it? I’m pretty certain my mother didn’t commit suicide. Yes, I’ve known about that for ages, but I’m almost sure it was another lie. I suppose Jane wanted to protect both of us from things she thought would hurt us, but I wish she hadn’t. I can’t be absolutely sure about your news yet, but I think I’ve found…” The letter ended abruptly. Something must have happened to make April break off… perhaps a phone call? She had put the folder away meaning to return to

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it another day. It was undated so I had no way of knowing when she’d begun it, but I thought it might have been just before she went to New York that last time. Tears were stinging my eyes. “Oh, April,” I wept. “April why didn’t you finish the letter?” I read it over again when I’d stopped crying, trying to make sense of it all. April believed we might both have one parent living – but she hadn’t said whether it was her father or my mother. She’d said her mother hadn’t committed suicide, and that Aunt Jane had been trying to protect us – from the knowledge that April’s mother had been brutally murdered perhaps? I had a feeling that I’d stumbled on to something important. If Janice Creek was April’s mother… then she might believe Sir Melvin was her father. And it would explain that odd pause when she’d told me she knew of his estate. Of course! April must have discovered the story of Janice Creek’s murder, and gone down there to have a look around. And she had died there! There had to be a connection – had to be! My instincts as a journalist were telling me that I was on the right track this time. April and Juan might have been hiding from a contract killer, but her murder had nothing to do with drugs. I was as certain as I could be that there was a link to the past – but what? Had April stumbled on something while she was searching for the truth about her birth? Had some person or persons unknown been afraid that she would reveal their guilty secret? My mind was beginning to hare off down this new track when my phone rang. I made a sound of annoyance but answered it dutifully. “Georgie?” Fernando’s rich deep voice made me tingle all over. “Did you try to ring me earlier?” “Yes…” I was suddenly breathless. I had wanted to talk to him, but now I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. “Anything wrong?” My mind worked frantically. “No, not really. I just needed to talk.” “Did you find anything at April’s flat?” I hesitated, then, “I might have – nothing definite. It’s just an instinct – a link between April and Sir Melvin’s estate…” “You should be on your guard,” he warned. “I’ve learned that Mr. Husk was killed, this evening, near Whitney. I think something odd is going on, Georgie. Please be careful.” “You sound as if you care…” I stopped abruptly. My voice was distinctly wistful. What the hell was the matter with me? I was aware of an aching loneliness, a need I’d never felt before. “Damned fool! Not you – me. I’m being sentimental.” “You’re missing April,” he said, and his husky tones made my bones melt with a fierce, urgent need. “I’m in New York. I’ll be back on Sunday. I’ll drive you down to Whitney.” “I can go on the train…” “Don’t be foolish, Georgie. It makes sense for me to pick you up. We have things to discuss.” “Okay – have it your way.”

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Why was I giving in so tamely? Why was I kidding myself I had a choice?! I wanted to be with him, that was the truth of it. How stupid could a girl get? “Don’t do anything foolish, Georgie. And I do care…” I stared at my phone as the line went dead. My mouth had run dry and I was aware of burning sexual desire. I wanted to sleep with Fernando Rodan. I wanted it badly. ***** I telephoned Brenda early the next morning, but she was out. Miss Stratton answered. She sounded odd, a little distracted – not her usual crisp and efficient self. “I’m afraid she isn’t here, Miss Langley. She had to go to – to see someone, a friend I believe. She will be back tomorrow. Shall I tell her you rang?” “I wanted to ask if she’d heard the news about Teddy Husk.” “You mean that poor man who was knocked down and killed last evening by a hit and run driver? What a terrible thing to happen!” “You do know who he was – the journalist who wrote that unpleasant article about Sir Melvin?” “Was it him? I didn’t realize. Perhaps what happened to him wasn’t entirely undeserved then. You saw that article he wrote, of course. It is too much! We’ve had to put up with things like this before and it is unfair we should have to suffer again. The local paper wrote some wicked things years ago. Sir Melvin should have sued at the time, but naturally he wouldn’t.” She made a sound of annoyance in her throat. “Mr. Husk’s article had nothing to do with his accident, of course. It was probably a drunk – or a joy rider. Apparently, the van may have been stolen.” “Oh – where did you hear that?” “I – in the village I think.” She sounded vague. “Excuse me, Miss Langley. I am very busy.” She replaced the receiver abruptly. I was puzzled by her manner. During our previous phone calls I had been struck by her efficiency, but this time she’d seemed hesitant – nervous. Why? And why hadn’t she wanted Brenda to talk to me? I was almost certain she was there – so why hadn’t Miss Stratton let me talk to her? I had the distinct feeling that Miss Stratton was hiding something from me. But why should she? My thoughts were going round and round in circles as I chased the idea that April’s murder was connected to something – or someone – at Whitney. It might even carry a link to the murder of Janice Creek. I pulled myself together sharply. That was nonsense! Of course the two weren’t connected. How could they be? Glancing at my watch, I realized it was getting late. I had arranged to meet Inspector Thorpe at April’s apartment and, if I wasn’t careful, I was going to be late. He was there, waiting for me, when I arrived, his sergeant too. Inspector Thorpe’s keen eyes went over me and he frowned. “You look as if you haven’t slept for a week, Miss Langley.” “Thanks for the compliment. You certainly know how to make a girl feel good.” “If this is going to be too much of an ordeal for you…?”

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“I can manage, thanks.” He obviously believed it was my first visit to the apartment, since April’s death, and I wasn’t about to enlighten him. I certainly had no intention of handing over the folder – or of telling him my suspicions concerning anything else. We entered the flat. He glanced round appreciatively. “Nice. Very nice.” “Yes, I suppose it is. What are you looking for exactly?” “Diaries, love letters – computer files.” “I’ll let you get on with it then. I can open the safe for you, but you will need a password to get into April’s computer…” I glanced round. “That’s odd, I thought it would be here. She may have taken it with her, of course. She had a small laptop.” “It wasn’t at the cottage,” Inspector Thorpe said. “Perhaps in the bedroom?” “I should like to take April’s trinket box,” I said not looking at him. “Unless you need it?” He shook his head. “I’ll get it – it is in the bedroom.” “You could make sure she hasn’t tucked any letters inside, but otherwise do as you wish, Miss Langley. We are only interested in anything that might give us a clue as to why she was killed.” “You haven’t found anything yet then?” “Nothing at all.” His eyes were thoughtful as he looked at me, almost suspicious. I had a feeling that he didn’t quite believe me. “You haven’t received any threatening messages, Miss Langley?” I thought of the emails from Atlas, but they hadn’t been threatening, merely nasty. Designed to wound, rather than kill – and I believed I knew where they’d come from. I wasn’t likely to receive any more. “No – why do you ask?” “Just a theory,” he said. “But we’ll see what we can find today. Fetch the box you want. My sergeant will search the bedroom – and be careful, Bryne. Remember this is a victim’s property not a suspect’s!” His sergeant’s face remained expressionless and I could see a flicker of something in his eyes – resentment perhaps? He must get tired of being spoken to like that surely? Sergeant Bryne followed me into the bedroom. I picked up April’s trinket box and opened the lid to show him the contents. “Nothing different or unusual?” he asked. “Not that I’ve noticed so far,” I said. I had noticed the silver locket and I could hardly wait to open it and look at the photo inside. “You take it, miss,” Sergeant Bryne said kindly. “I expect it’s a few keepsakes of your sister?” “Yes, nothing valuable. I gave her a lot of these things when we were much younger.” He nodded and began to open drawers, making a careful search. No diaries or letters were found. I hadn’t expected there would be. April would keep anything private in the safe – just in case. “Would you like me to open the safe?” I asked and removed the mirror covering it. “Yes, miss. That would be helpful.”

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I knew the combination by heart now. Sergeant Bryne looked inside, saw the money – about a thousand pounds in cash – and several jewel boxes. “Is that all, miss?” He frowned as I nodded. “Would it be normal for Miss Langley to have that amount of cash?” “Oh yes, I think so. She kept it there for when she’d gone too far on her credit cards. My sister earned a lot of money, but she spent it very quickly. I doubt if she has much in the bank – it will all be in property, pictures or jewelry.” “You can close the safe, miss – unless you wanted to take something out?” “No, it was just this box,” I replied. “Everything else is with the lawyers. I don’t know what April intended for her estate – and at this moment I don’t care much.” “No, I wouldn’t have thought so. You’ve never really been a suspect.” A chill of horror went through me. “Surely no one thought… that I would want April dead?” “It’s one of the family more often than you might think,” he said. “They turn on the tears, give an Oscar-winning performance some of them – but underneath they’re seething with hatred or jealousy. Money is what drives a lot of them, of course – but I told the Inspector that I thought you really loved her.” “I did – I still do.” “Yes, that’s what I thought, miss.” He looked pleased with himself. There was clearly a certain amount of rivalry between Sergeant Bryne and his Inspector. I left him to continue his work and went back into the sitting room. Inspector Thorpe was taking the tape from April’s answering machine. He put it in a plastic bag together with a book of telephone numbers she had kept on the table. “Was the laptop there?” “No. I’m sorry. I’m sure April would have taken it with her.” “It wasn’t in their car or the cottage. I’ll check everything again myself now I know about it – but it does look as if it might be missing.” “That’s odd,” I said. “Did she have much jewelry with her?” “I think there was a traveling case with a few things in it. You could come in and have a look yourself – tell us if anything is missing.” “If you think it would be helpful?” “It might,” he said. “If the motive was theft it puts a different complexion on the case.” “Might the laptop have been snatched on impulse?” “Would you shoot two people and then hang around to go through their things?” “I wouldn’t shoot anyone,” I said. “The pen is mightier than the sword, Inspector.” “Not in Mr. Husk’s case,” he replied and frowned. The sense of his not quite trusting me was even stronger now. “I understand you and he didn’t get on too well, Miss Langley?” “I thought Teddy was a slob and a brute,” I said, “but I didn’t steal a van and knock him down.” “How did you know the van was stolen? That information hasn’t been

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released to the Press yet.” “As I understand it, there’s a rumor going round Whitney village to that effect.” He nodded, still seeming suspicious. “So you’ve spoken to someone down there today?” “I wanted to speak to Brenda. I’m going down there at the weekend – but Miss Stratton told me she’d heard it in the village.” “I know that village likes its gossip, though I had thought Miss Stratton kept herself to herself most of the time” he said with a wry twist of his mouth. “Well, we’ve just about finished up here, Miss Langley. I shall be giving you a receipt for what we’ve taken, and then we’ll go and leave you to it.” “I’ll leave when you do,” I said. “I have nothing more to do here.” I couldn’t wait to get home and compare the picture in the folder to the one in the locket! ***** “So – what do you think to Miss Langley then, Bryne?” They were sitting in a pub, grabbing a sandwich and a drink, before catching the train back to Norwich. What is she hiding from us, do you suppose?” “Hiding, sir?” Sergeant Bryne was surprised by the question. He took a sip of his beer and thought about it. “She seems a straightforward girl to me. Bit independent – but then, most of them are these days. I liked her myself.” “Straightforward…” Harry Thorpe arched his brows. “Fancy her do you?” Sergeant Bryne blushed bright red, making his superior chuckle. “No, sir! I’m a happily married man. My wife wouldn’t like me to have thoughts about other women, not in that way. She complains enough about the hours I work, without any of that stuff.” “Methinks he doth protest too much,” Harry remarked sotto voce. “I wasn’t suggesting you seduce her. Just thought you might have noticed she was attractive. I was wondering about Gutteridge. He seems to have taken a shine to her. Bit unusual, offering to have her sister interred in his family crypt. Doesn’t it make you wonder why he should do that?” “Feels responsible…” Bryne said, “because the murder happened on his estate.” “Maybe…” Harry frowned as he finished his beer. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d had this nagging in his guts ever since the shootings. He still couldn’t get it out of his head that there might be a tie up with the murder of Janice Creek. “Fancy another?” “I won’t if it’s all the same to you, sir. I’d rather catch the next train. We’ll miss it, if we’re not careful. I’m off early today, sir – taking my wife out this evening.” “You’re right as usual, Bryne.” Harry sighed. “You don’t want to keep that pretty wife of yours waiting. I think I’ll take the next train. I’m going to hang on here for a while, do a bit of nosing around. I’d like to know a bit more about Miss Langley and her sister.”

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Harry was thoughtful as he made his way to the bar to buy another beer. These young detectives were all into computers and the new age technology, but sometimes they forgot to look about them. Most detective work was gut instinct, at least, as far as Harry was concerned. And he was pretty certain that Miss Langley was up to something… ***** I put the trinket box on the glass coffee table in front of me and stared at it for a moment, almost afraid now to confirm my theory. My hands were shaking slightly as I withdrew the small oval locket and held it in my hand. Immediately, I was swamped by memories… April perched on the swing and laughing at me, the sun glinting on the silver of that locket. Just why did she love it so much? We had both been given gold ones for our birthdays, but April preferred this one for some reason. I opened the catch and looked at the photo inside. It was the same! My spine tingled as I slipped my nail behind it so that I could remove it and compare it side by side with the larger picture. As I did so, I saw there was an engraved message in the locket that I had never realized was there. It read: "Daddy loves Belinda." I felt the goose pimples rise all over my body. Surely this must be proof of my suspicions? It couldn’t be a coincidence! Janice Creek’s daughter had been called Belinda, and someone had given her this locket as proof of his love. Who was that someone? The finger of suspicion seemed to point right at Sir Melvin. I pictured the scenario – a youngish, ambitious man married to an invalid, whom he no longer loved, and then a pretty young woman came to live on his estate. She was a widow and very unhappy. He’d comforted her and soon they were having an affair. Janice had given birth to a daughter. Sir Melvin’s political aspirations made it impossible for him to divorce his wife, but he cared for her and she continued to live on his estate. He visited her as much as he could, took gifts for her and the child, to show that he loved them both. Everything fitted so neatly that I felt it was too easy. Surely I was missing something? Yet it was the obvious answer, the reason why local people had suspected Sir Melvin of killing her. What had happened the day Janice was brutally stabbed to death in that isolated cottage? Had Sir Melvin gone to see his lover and quarreled with her – perhaps finding her in the arms of another man? Was it the classic case of the jealous lover killing the one he loved most? I had always thought it odd that someone had phoned the police to warn them that something was wrong. Not many murderers would be that considerate unless they cared about the child? Yet a loving father would hardly have left his daughter with her dead mother! So, if it wasn’t the murderer, and it wasn’t Sir

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Melvin – who had made that call? I had a feeling that it might be important to discover the identity of that person, though I wasn’t sure why. I’d read the reports of the child being covered in blood and it had sent shivers running through me. Had someone witnessed the murder but not been a part of it? Someone who had kept quiet all these years for reasons of their own? The pieces of the puzzle were jumbled in my mind. I replaced the photo and put the locket back in April’s box, then locked it into my wardrobe. I had to go to work! ***** “You look tired,” Steve said when he saw me later that day. “Haven’t you been sleeping?” “Not well,” I admitted. “I can’t seem to think of anything but April.” “No, of course not. It was a terrible thing to happen. You know how I feel without my saying it?” “Of course.” I sighed. “I still feel as if she’s going to ring me or walk in at any moment – I’m going to miss her so much, Steve.” “Yes.” He hesitated for a moment. “Have you been to see Jane?” “No – not yet. She probably wouldn’t understand, Steve – and if she did it would upset her.” “She wouldn’t want to be at the funeral? I could fetch her and look after her for you if you liked?” “That’s really thoughtful of you,” I said, “but it would only confuse her. The last time I took her for a ride in the car, she kept trying to get out while we were in traffic. I’ll go to visit her next week, when it’s all over. I can try getting through to her if we sit quietly…” I frowned. “April spoke of visiting Jane. There was something she wanted to ask her, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was.” “April always did want to know who her parents were. She mentioned it to me a couple of times – said you weren’t interested, but she wanted to know the truth, good or bad.” “She had been doing some investigating,” I said. “Apparently, she thought she might be on the verge of discovering something important.” “Like who her father was?” “Yes…” I bit my lip. “Aunt Jane said he deserted April’s mother, but April thought it was a lie. She was sure her mother hadn’t committed suicide. I think...” I stopped and shook my head. “No, I might be making a silly mistake... but I don’t think I am.” “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” Steve said gently. “The way you would if it was a story we were both working on together.” “I think… I think April’s mother might have been Janice Creek.” “Good grief!” Steve ejaculated, staring at me in amazement. “Where did that come from?” I explained about the photographs, the picture in the newspaper, the halffinished letter and the locket. Steve looked grim as I brought my account to an end. “You know what all this means, don’t you?”

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“What?” I waited, wanting him to say it. “Tell me what you think, Steve.” “The murders have to be connected,” he said. “I felt something was wrong in that house – that’s why I didn’t want either of us to stay there.” “You think Melvin might have killed Janice Creek?” “And by that token he was probably April’s father.” Steve was glaring at me. “I warned you not to trust him. It’s obvious he knew who April was – why else would he have offered to let you have their ashes interred in his family’s vault?” I felt the ice spread all over me. Why hadn’t I seen that? The pieces were falling into place too quickly for me. It shouldn’t be this easy! I was suspicious. Yet perhaps I just didn’t want to believe that the charming man I’d liked so much was a murderer. “Even if he was April’s father it doesn’t mean he killed Janice – it could have been someone else.” “Yes, it could, but it is probable that he was the culprit,” Steve countered. “Step back from this, Georgie, and think about it as clearly and coldly as you would if it didn’t concern you so closely.” “I’m trying to – but I liked Melvin, Steve. I mean really liked him, felt as if I’d known him for years.” “For goodness sake!” He ran exasperated fingers through his hair. “Murderers are often charming; that’s how they trap their victims. You’re not going to go ahead with the funeral there?” I hesitated, and then inclined my head stubbornly. “Yes, I am, Steve. I felt April belonged in that peaceful place, and if she is Sir Melvin’s daughter that is even truer.” “Even if he killed her and Juan?” “Steve! That’s a disgusting thing to say. I can’t believe you’ve just said it to me.” “Why – because he flattered you, made a fuss of you?” He was annoyed with me and it wasn’t like Steve to lose his cool! “That’s bloody ridiculous!” I exploded. “If you’re going to be like this I’m going home now.” “You can hand it out, but you can’t take it, huh?” “Damn you, Steve! I don’t need this!” I walked out of his office, slamming the door behind me. It hurt me that he could say such a thing. Steve – who had always warned me that you didn’t make accusations unless you could prove them! Why was he acting this way? It was almost as if he were jealous, which was ridiculous! Sir Melvin was charming but not the type I would choose as a lover – even if he had been younger. Besides, whatever Steve thought Sir Melvin hadn’t tried to seduce me. I hated the idea that he might have killed Janice Creek – especially if she had been April’s mother. Sir Melvin might just be capable of killing his lover in a jealous rage – but could he murder his own daughter and her husband? No, I did not believe it! Steve had been wrong to suggest it. Even now I could hardly credit that he had. Yet someone had taken a gun and shot them, not once but several times. That

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person – or persons – had to be evil! Steve rang me that evening to apologize. “I’m sorry, Georgie. I don’t know what got into me. I shouldn’t have said what I did – especially to you.” “No, you shouldn’t – but I shouldn’t have blown my top. I’m sorry too. Are we friends again?” “Yes, of course.” He hesitated and I sensed he was feeling his way. “Shall I drive you down there this weekend?” There was a note of suppressed eagerness in his voice, which made me oddly defensive as I replied, “Fernando has already arranged to drive me to Whitney – but thanks for offering. I appreciate it.” “Okay.” I could sense his anger. “Send in any copy online. I’m not going to be around for a few days.” The line went dead immediately and I felt as if he had slapped me. What was happening to us? We had always been such good mates. I needed my friend as never before and suddenly he wasn’t there. ***** I had never felt as alone as I did the rest of that week. April and Steve were my best friends; without them I had no one who really mattered. There were other friends I could have talked to – a couple of them actually rang me, but they were uncomfortable, obviously uncertain of what to say. People were shocked by April’s murder. I had seen a couple of tributes to her on the TV now, and an article in the paper that I liked very much but, although the tearing agony of her loss had become less sharp, there was an ever-present ache. I had thrown myself into my work, trying to pretend nothing was wrong, but now the realization of what all this meant was catching up with me and I was suffering. I wanted, needed to be held in someone’s arms, to be loved, comforted and told that it would stop hurting soon – but there was no one I could go to other than Steve, and he wasn’t answering his mobile. On Sunday morning I packed a few clothes and made myself a sandwich for lunch. I didn’t eat much of it because it tasted like ashes in my mouth. “Damned fool!” I muttered aloud. “Pull yourself together, Georgie!” This wasn’t me – I didn’t indulge in self-pity and cry at the drop of the hat, but then I’d never felt this miserable in my life. I was desperate to talk to someone by the time Fernando rang my doorbell. I answered at once and told him to come up. The moment I saw him standing outside my door, I burst into tears. Fernando came in and kicked the door shut behind him. He dropped the parcels and flowers he was carrying on the floor and took me in his arms. I clung to him like a drowning sailor to a rock, and the next moment he was kissing me – not the way he had after our dinner date. This was a hungry, consuming kiss that set my pulses racing like the wind. “Poor baby,” he said. “I shouldn’t have left you.” He lifted me in his arms and carried me through the sitting room into my bedroom, and then set me down. I gazed up into his eyes and felt myself melting

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with desire, my body aching for his touch. All of a sudden, it was as if the dam had burst, and we were discarding our clothes, letting them fall to the floor as we ripped at buttons and fasteners by mutual consent, both of us eager to touch and taste. We were kissing… lips, nose, eyelids, and throat… anywhere that was revealed to our thirsting mouths. My fingers tangled in his hair as he bore me to the bed, covering me with his lean, hard body. For a while we couldn’t stop kissing, but then our mutual need brought us together in an urgent clashing of bodies that was as swift as it was passionate. “I’ve thought of nothing else but you,” Fernando muttered as we lay entwined, our lust slaked for the moment. “Every hour – I haven’t slept for wanting you.” “Me too,” I said and nibbled at his earlobe. “You taste of shrimp.” “You taste of honey and wine,” he said, and laughed down at me as he reached for me once more. “I’m like a man in the desert who hasn’t tasted wine for a year…” His lips and tongue were arousing the desire I had felt so urgently a few minutes earlier but, this time, it was different – a slow burn rather than an explosion. Fernando took his time, teasing me with his tongue, bringing me thrillingly, tinglingly alive with a skill I had never met before. My other lovers had been mere amateurs compared to this man. At the back of my mind I was already asking the question – how did he get so good? Was it a natural talent or had he had lots of practice? Now wasn’t the time to think about that – now was the time to enjoy. He was sweeping me along with him, taking me to a place I had never been, but wanted to visit again and again. It was a long, long time later that we came back to reality. Fernando went to the bathroom, and I headed for the kitchen to set the coffee going. I carried a tray into the sitting room as he came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. “That was some homecoming,” he said. “I must go away more often if you receive me like that, Georgie.” “It was probably delayed reaction, and I may never be that way again,” I said. “Besides, these things burn themselves out, Fernando. You caught me at a bad time – or a good one depending on your point of view.” “Are you always so cynical?” “Don’t you agree? Surely you don’t believe in hearts and flowers?” “I brought you flowers,” he said, glancing at the bouquet that still lay on the floor. “Aren’t you going to put them in water?” “I wasn’t sure they were for me.” “Who else would I give them to?” I shrugged. “How would I know? You might have half a dozen girlfriends in town.” “You don’t really believe that?” His frown deepened. “I don’t know and I don’t want to know, Fernando. I’m not asking anything of you – except what you gave me just now. I need a friend at the moment, and you

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happened to be around.” “I hope you don’t greet all your friends in that way?” He smiled wryly. “You know what I mean. No, there isn’t anyone else – not in that way. Steve is a friend. I’m not into sleeping around much. You were special, Fernando. I’m just saying that I’m not going to demand a wedding ring.” “I’m afraid it wouldn’t do you much good if you did,” he said. “I’m married, Georgie – and I can’t get out of it if I wanted to. We are Catholics and we have a family.” “Thanks for telling me now!” “You said it didn’t matter.” “It doesn’t. I expected it anyway.” I turned away feeling hurt. I didn’t want him to declare undying love, but he might have told me sooner that he had a wife. He took hold of my shoulders, holding me pressed against him, his breath warm on my neck. “I care, Georgie,” he said. “You’re a modern girl and you know the score. I shall never leave my wife – but that doesn’t mean I want a one-night stand with you. Things can be arranged…” I pulled away from him, hating him, hating myself for already wanting to return to bed with him. “Sure … I can be your mistress and live in an expensive apartment paid for by you.” “Why should that worry you?” he asked. “But it doesn’t end there, Georgie. I come to London a lot. We could be together when I come – and I can help your career.” “Don’t try to bribe me,” I said coldly. “If I fuck you it’s because I want to, damn you! You can take your money and…” He spun me round and silenced me with a bruising kiss that punished as much as it pleasured. I went limp in his arms, knowing that it was already too late to fight him. I wanted him, more than I had ever thought it was possible to want a man – and I finally knew what had made April marry a man she had only just met.

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CHAPTER EIGHT We didn’t leave for Whitney until Monday morning. Our spat had led us back to bed and a night of passion, during which it seemed that neither of us could get enough of the other. It was madness, of course, almost unreal, something apart from the sanity of everyday life. A romantic might have called it love, but I wasn’t a romantic. I knew that, at best, we would never have an easy relationship. We were worlds apart in the way we thought and lived – but, just for this moment in time, what we had was very special. Fernando was very special. When I let him be, he was generous, entertaining and funny. I knew in my heart that it would be easy to love such a man, but I was still trying not to give in – perhaps because I was afraid to love. It seemed that I lost everyone I loved. Despite that, the terrible aching loneliness of the past few days had been burned out of me, and I was back to my usual self as we drove the last few miles to Whitney. We had stopped in Norwich for lunch, and to make the arrangements for the cremations. They were to be held in separate chapels one after the other, since Juan was a Catholic like his brother. Later, Fernando and I would go privately to that quiet, peaceful place where their ashes would rest side by side. Fernando had made a considerable concession in allowing Juan’s ashes to remain here with April’s and I was grateful. I told him so. “Juan chose to risk everything he cared about to be with her,” he said. “She must have meant a lot to him.” His tone was sincere, his smile warm and caring. “Some of the family are not too pleased – but my decision is final. I believe this is what Juan would have wanted.” “Yes. I think they were just caught up in something they couldn’t handle.” I wrinkled my brow as he made no reply. “Did he blow the whole deal by breaking his cover? Or will you still manage to get those men for tax evasion?” “I understand something is happening this weekend. Hopefully, the operation will be successful despite what happened. Juan had made contingency plans.” “Is that why you went to New York in a hurry?” “If it were, I wouldn’t be at liberty to tell you anything, Georgie.” “Afraid I’ll do an exposé on drug dealers and reveal my sources?” I raised my brows at him mockingly. He laughed huskily. “You might if it suited you.” “Yes, I might,” I admitted. “If I thought it would achieve anything – but I dare say your way is best, even though it isn’t enough for scum like that!” “It’s all we have.” “Yes, I suppose so. Life’s a bitch, isn’t it?” He frowned but didn’t answer; he was given to silences sometimes, and I guessed he was mulling things over. I knew Fernando thought I was too cynical, but it was the way I saw things. I wasn’t bitter, but I had few illusions about life. As we approached Sir Melvin’s house I felt a sense of pleasure, almost of

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homecoming. I liked this place despite everything that had happened on the estate. Yet I was also aware of a prickling sensation at the nape of my neck. Steve’s warnings had sunk in, even though I was determined not to let them color my judgment. Brenda met us at the door. She was smiling, delighted to see us – and she kissed me, giving Fernando a warm smile. “I thought you might come yesterday,” she said. “Sir Melvin asked if you would go to him in the study, Mr. Rodan. You know your way, of course.” Fernando inclined his head and walked away. “My aunt wasn’t clear about your intentions,” she said, and there was a flicker of anxiety in her eyes. “To be honest, Georgie, I’m a little worried about her.” “Oh – why?” I looked at her intently. “I thought she was getting better?” “She did seem to be better – but then she …oh dear! I’m afraid she hasn’t been at all well recently,” Brenda said as she took me upstairs to my room. “I think all this trouble has played on her nerves. She’s been having headaches and she seems…” Brenda hesitated. “She isn’t like herself.” “In what way?” “I don’t know exactly. We’re all a bit upset over what happened to your sister, Georgie – and then there was that journalist…” She gave me an odd, half-guilty look. “I know I thought he should be punished and, although I am shamed to admit it, I was glad when his car was damaged with the others – but I didn’t want him to die. It’s a terrible thing … terrible. I feel as if I did something to make it happen…” “Of course you didn’t, Brenda!” She looked really upset and I hastened to reassure her. “I was the one who said he should drop dead of a heart attack,” I reminded her. “It was just a throwaway line. I never expected him to get killed like that.” “How could you? You disliked him but you would never…” She broke off and again I saw that anxious look in her eyes as she lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper. “People are saying it might not be an accident.” “I wondered about that myself – but murder is a desperate thing, Brenda. Teddy had enemies, I’m sure of that, but someone must have hated him an awful lot to do that. It was probably just an unfortunate accident.” “Yes…I can’t believe that anyone would…but wicked things do happen. Your poor sister…” Brenda caught a sob in her throat. “I am so sorry … it’s just all such a strain, and I’m so worried about my aunt. I really think … she isn’t well at all.” I was getting a prickle at the nape of my neck. What was Brenda hinting at? I had noticed something when I talked to Miss Stratton on the phone, but I had thought she was embarrassed because Brenda didn’t want to take my call. Now, I suspected there might be more to it. Brenda was keeping something back, but I wasn’t sure what was bothering her. I was sorry she was so upset. She was a nice person, despite her irritating ways. “Could you get Miss Stratton to see a doctor?” “I have tried but…she can be so difficult.” Brenda sighed and then laughed. “Oh dear, here I go putting all my little worries on you, and yours are so much worse. But you look better, Georgie. I was very worried about you last week.” “You’re very thoughtful, Brenda, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’m

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pretty tough. I dare say I shall survive.” “It’s just my way,” she said. “I should like us to be close. Since my mother died – well, there’s only my aunt and me. I’ve been lonely sometimes.” “Of course we’re friends,” I said. There was little else I could say when she was looking at me with those sad spaniel eyes. “I’ll just tidy up and then I’ll join you for tea.” “Yes, of course. I expect you are exhausted after your journey?” Brenda seemed to imagine I was a fragile flower that might wilt under the slightest strain, and that wasn’t me. I had lost it a bit after my quarrel with Steve, but I was back to normal now. I changed out of my jeans into black trousers and a crisp white cotton shirt and went downstairs. Melvin, Fernando and Brenda were already in the sitting room. They all glanced at me as I entered and I wondered if I had been under discussion before I came in, and then Sir Melvin came towards me, hands outstretched. “Georgie my dear,” he said and kissed my cheek. “I’m very glad to see you – how are you?” “Better than I was,” I replied and glanced at Fernando. “Once things are settled – well, you understand.” “Yes, of course.” His smile was warm, almost affectionate. How could I ever have thought that he might have been concerned in the murder of Janice Creek? I felt ashamed of my doubts. This man wasn’t a murderer; I felt it instinctively. I turned away to sit down on the comfortable sofa, and Brenda handed me a cup of tea. “Would you like a piece of my walnut cake, Georgie? I made it especially for you.” “Thank you, yes.” Brenda was a wonderful cook. I tasted the cake; it was deliciously moist and melted in my mouth. “This is gorgeous, Brenda. So much better than anything you can buy.” “Yes, our Brenda is a first class cook,” Melvin said. “But then she does everything well. I was extremely lucky to get her. I’ve no idea why she wants to stay here, because it’s not much of a life for a young woman – but I’m glad she does. We should miss her terribly.” Brenda glowed under his praise. I wondered why he couldn’t see that she was devoted to him – or perhaps he knew and accepted it as his due? Much as I liked him, I thought he might be a little vain. After tea, Brenda cleared away the things, refusing my offer of help. Melvin and Fernando went back to his study to discuss some business, and I slipped outside for a walk. It was not as warm as it had been earlier in the day, a cold breeze blowing up from nowhere that seemed to herald a change in the weather. I wished I had brought a jacket out with me, and I shivered, thinking that perhaps I ought to go back and get one. As I glanced round at the house, I saw a pale face gazing down at me from an upstairs window. There was something about the way she was staring that made me feel uneasy. What was it about Miss Stratton that made me uncomfortable? Why did I feel that Steve might have been partly right to warn me about this house, not about Sir

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Melvin – but a member of his household? There was something about the way she looked at me… something odd in her manner. Brenda was clearly anxious about her aunt. She’d told me Miss Stratton was ill, but I sensed it was more than that. When I thought about it, I realized that Miss Stratton had been behaving oddly from the moment I’d first arrived and told her who I was. She’d been so very shocked when she realized that it wasn’t me who had been killed in that cottage. Anyone would be shocked, of course, but she had seemed to be deeply affected. I’d seen the color leave her face, and then she’d taken to her bed, as if it were all too much for her. I hadn’t been noticing much at the time, because I’d been shocked myself – but April was my sister. Why should Miss Stratton be so disturbed by the death of a stranger? And she had seemed to become even more distressed a day or so after the murder – why was that? It didn’t make sense. She wasn’t the type of woman to go to pieces just because a murder – murders! – had been committed locally. At least I wouldn’t have thought so from our first telephone conversations. She had seemed a capable woman who could handle most things – and I was sure she had dealt with the Press efficiently at the time. So why had she become ill now – and why didn’t she wish to speak to me? I had the distinct impression that she was doing her best to avoid me. She had moved away from the window as if she’d realized I’d noticed her standing there. I continued my walk, braving the cold wind as I puzzled over the mystery. No obvious solution presented itself. Unless my theory about April having discovered a guilty secret from the past was incorrect? If the person who had killed April thought it was me, however, it would be shocking to discover that I was still alive a few hours later. What was I thinking here – that someone had killed April in mistake for me? No, that was ridiculous because, if I followed the theory to its logical conclusion, it would mean Miss Stratton had to be the murderer. Somehow, I couldn’t see her taking a gun and firing wildly at two people… she was surely too controlled? Yet she had to be one of my suspects. I didn’t want to believe Melvin capable of murder, and Brenda certainly wasn’t the type – was she? I considered the idea for a moment and then dismissed it; she was far too nervous and easily upset. Besides, I had this nagging feeling that there was a connection to the past, and Brenda was obviously too young. On the other hand, Miss Stratton had a reputation for being a bit of a dragon. I supposed she just might be capable of killing if she had reason enough. It was an unpleasant thought, but I had to consider it. If she had known April and wanted to kill her, she wouldn’t have been so shocked to see me when I arrived. But why would a woman I had never met want to kill me? There couldn’t be a reason. Nothing made sense. Unless she had been protecting someone else? Who could command Miss Stratton’s loyalty to the extent that she was willing to cover up a terrible crime? It had to be her employer or her niece. Or was I allowing myself to drift up a blind

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alley again? On balance, I thought I was probably misjudging an innocent woman. When I had walked in that afternoon she’d believed the woman she’d given the key to was Miss Georgina Langley, and the discovery that I was still alive had naturally thrown her – it would anyone. So that was another theory down the drain. I was steadily working my way through a whole range of them. I returned once more to the idea that April was the daughter of Janice Creek and Sir Melvin. The evidence for that seemed almost conclusive, though I had no proof that he was Janice’s lover – but it was probable. That did not mean she had been murdered because of something she’d discovered, of course. In London I had convinced myself my theory was correct, but now I was uncertain. Of course April could have had a connection with someone else in the area. Supposing I was wrong about Sir Melvin having been Janice’s lover? Supposing there was a local man involved… a man who had killed and been afraid of discovery? It was a possibility I hadn’t explored until now. And April’s laptop had disappeared – so perhaps the motive was simply theft. My thoughts were muddled, running in different directions and I wished I could talk to Steve about it, because he usually had such clear sight about these things – but his usual insight seemed to be missing. In any case, he wasn’t around. And I hadn’t told Fernando about my theories, because I wasn’t sure of my facts. Besides, we’d had other things on our minds. ***** Steve came down for the funeral service. I hadn’t been sure that he would, but he was at the crematorium at the right time. He came in just before the doors closed and left almost immediately afterwards. We didn’t speak, but our eyes met for a brief moment as he stood near the door, and the look he gave me was heavy with reproach. Was it that obvious to him that Fernando and I were lovers? He couldn’t know and, yet, I sensed that he did. His expression was a mixture of jealousy and hurt, and I felt regret that our relationship had turned sour. I did not regret what had happened between Fernando and me – it was the one bright thing in my life at that moment. His presence beside me at the service for April comforted me, and I was grateful. I accompanied him to Juan’s service, which seemed strange to me and, afterwards, he drove us back to Sir Melvin’s house. Miss Stratton had accompanied Brenda and Sir Melvin, which had surprised me. Somehow I hadn’t expected her to make the effort. Brenda wept all through the service, but her aunt kept her gaze fixed straight ahead. She looked pale and strained, and turned her head aside when I looked at her directly. “Miss Stratton shouldn’t have come this afternoon,” I said to Brenda when we were all back at the house. “She is obviously ill.” “I told her to stay at home,” Brenda said. “But she insisted on coming with us – she said she had to pay her respects.” The chapel had been full. We’d tried to keep the whole thing private, but there were people who’d had to be told and, somehow, the location had leaked out.

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It wasn’t just journalists, who stood outside in a drizzling rain, and those that were amongst the silent crowd had shown both restraint and respect. A lot of April’s fans had been there, too, and some of them were weeping openly. Apparently, a lot of people had loved her. Inspector Thorpe was one of the few invited back to the house afterwards. “You can collect Miss Langley’s personal belongings whenever you wish,” he told me over a cup of tea and a slice of Brenda’s fruitcake. “We’re holding some diaries and telephone tapes for a while – but we’ve finished with the rest. If you do think anything is missing please let us know.” “I haven’t been back to April’s apartment. I suppose I shall have to once I’ve seen her lawyers…” “Ah yes…” He frowned at me. “I was about to ask, Miss Langley. Would I be right in thinking you had been to your sister’s apartment after her death and before your visit with us?” Something in his tone warned me that he had been speaking to April’s lawyers, who had obviously told him that I had sent them a package. “Yes. I collected some papers for the lawyers.” “You didn’t think that worth mentioning?” His eyes were bright with suspicion. “What else did you remove?” “Some personal photographs,” I replied. “Nothing that would interest you, Inspector – childhood pictures.” “You are quite sure?” “Perfectly.” I lied without flinching. “Now – may I ask you something?” “Yes, of course.” “You worked on the Janice Creek case, didn’t you?” “Yes.” Something registered in his eyes – a flicker of fear, resentment… something. “Why do you ask?” “I’ve been researching the case out of curiosity. I wondered if there was anything of interest that wasn’t in the papers?” Again that flicker in his eyes. “The case was never officially solved. I was taken off it after some months – personal problems. A man was arrested a year later. Someone tipped off the local police, informed on him, accused him of the murder. Unfortunately, he took his own life before a confession could be obtained so we shall never be certain if he was the one.” My journalistic instincts honed in on one sentence. “You say someone informed on him anonymously – that’s a bit odd, isn’t it? Didn’t you get a phone call telling you something was wrong at the cottage on the day of the murder? Doesn’t that make you wonder about the person who contacted the police?” His gaze narrowed in suspicion. “You seem very interested in the case, Miss Langley. Is there a particular reason?” “Only that I’m naturally curious about these things.” “You should be careful of poking your nose into murky corners,” he said. “Mr. Husk asked a lot of questions about Janice Creek, too. Perhaps he asked one too many.” I felt cold all over. “What are you implying?” He glanced in Sir Melvin’s direction for a moment. “You surely don’t think…” I was shocked as I saw his

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expression. “The case was taken away from me, Miss Langley,” he said, and I sensed his resentment. “Someone complained to my superiors. I was ill and I had made some foolish remarks about the child. They gave me an extended holiday. I might have made an arrest then, but it’s too late now. I doubt the mystery will ever be solved – in this case the murderer seems to have got away with it.” Clearly he still believed that Sir Melvin might have been guilty! “What do you mean – foolish remarks?” “It was just a look in her eyes. For a moment I thought…no, there’s no point in bringing all that up. It was just a foolish notion. At the time I was ill, and I drank too much. Janice Creek wasn’t a pleasant sight…” He was visibly affected by the memory. “There was a lot of blood…” “Belinda was only two and a bit wasn’t she?” “I’m not sure exactly – but somewhere around that. She would be twenty-two or three by now I imagine.” “Have you any idea what happened to her?” “She was adopted I suppose.” April had been twenty-three on her last birthday, which was three months ago, just a few months older than me. “Could Belinda have been two and a half when it happened?” “Perhaps – why? What are you keeping from me, Miss Langley? It is an offence to withhold evidence, you know.” “If I had evidence I would give it to you now, Inspector. All I have are theories – at the moment rather too many of them.” “You should leave the detective work to us. It could be dangerous if you happened to stumble on something you ought not to know.” “Have you stumbled on anything important, Inspector?” I countered. He glared at me. “If I discover you’ve been hiding something…” “Are you bullying Georgie?” Brenda had come up to us unnoticed. She gave him what was a fierce look for her. “I doubt if I could,” he muttered and moved away. “He is not a nice man,” Brenda said. “I don’t know why he came here this afternoon. He isn’t welcome in this house. You do know he practically accused Melvin of being a murderer once?” “I’d heard something about it. That’s all in the past and he didn’t mean to be rude to me. He was only doing his job,” I replied. “I asked him a few questions, that’s all.” “Well, as long as he isn’t upsetting you?” “No, I’m not upset.” “That’s good.” She touched my hand. “Funerals are such an ordeal, aren’t they? Thank goodness it is all over.” As far as I was concerned, the most important part was still to come. Once April’s ashes had been put to rest, then perhaps I could begin to forget all this and think of the good times – the happy years we had had together as children and friends.

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***** Fernando, Sir Melvin and I were the only ones present when the last farewell took place. It was a lovely afternoon once again, the cold breeze having gone, and dappled sunlight falling across the churchyard. I felt a sense of peace as I said a private goodbye to my sister. “Sleep well, love,” I whispered. “I’ll never forget.” Tears were stinging my eyes as the vault was closed and locked behind us. I laid flowers on the lead roof of the stone vault and then turned away. There was no more I could do for April here. I must go on with my life. She would expect it. But if it were possible I would unravel the mystery of her birth – and her death. “Remember you are welcome to come down whenever you wish,” Sir Melvin said, when we were back at the house later. “I shall be pleased to see you at anytime, Georgie.” “Thank you, you’ve been very kind.” “One day I might visit you in town,” he said, repeating something he had said once before. “We might have a little talk.” “We could talk now if you wish?” “This isn’t the right moment. What I have to say will keep.” I was already sure I knew what he wanted to tell me. He was giving me time to recover from my grief. “Just let me know when you’re coming,” I said. “We’ll meet somewhere – or you can come to the flat?” He kissed my cheek. “Take care of yourself, my dear. I’m always here – if you ever need help.” “Thank you.” Steve and Inspector Thorpe were both wrong. There was no way this man could be a cold-blooded murderer. Miss Stratton said goodbye to me before we left. She looked desperately ill, shadows beneath her eyes and a gaunt, sunken appearance to her cheeks. “I haven’t told you,” she said stiffly. “But I am truly sorry about your sister. I wish… that I could have prevented it somehow.” “Silly old auntie,” Brenda chided, coming to slip a protective arm around her waist. I thought how good she was with her aunt, how caring. “How could you have done anything? It was a stranger – someone who followed April Langley down here. A fan or a jealous lover… one of those people, who came to the funeral and stood in the rain perhaps.” Miss Stratton nodded and turned away. She went into Sir Melvin’s study and I could hear her old-fashioned typewriter clicking furiously as if she were attacking it. “She isn’t well,” Brenda said, that anxious look in her eyes. “But she won’t go to bed and rest. I’m so worried about her.” “You must have the doctor,” I said. “She has changed so quickly – it’s as if she’d had a stroke or something.” “Do you think so?” Brenda was clearly upset. “Yes, now you mention it, it

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does look that way. I think I shall ring the doctor, tomorrow, if she is no better. She will be cross with me, but I would prefer that, to seeing her like this.” Fernando was waiting for me. I had seen him checking his watch several times and I knew he wanted to leave. We had been here three days and that was a long time for a man with a busy schedule. On the drive home he told me he was flying to New York the next day. “I was hoping for a little time alone with you first, Georgie.” “We have tonight – unless you have other plans?” “A few hours,” he agreed. “I’m going to be away for at least two weeks, perhaps longer. I’ll have to ring you, when I’m surer of my dates.” “No big deal,” I replied and shrugged. “I know the score.” “Do you?” He glanced at me and then back at the road as we took a bend sharply. “Why do you always have to play it so cool? You’ve been like a stranger the whole time we were at Sir Melvin’s.” “I could hardly creep along the hall to your room at night.” “No, of course not. I wasn’t suggesting that – but I thought we had something going, Georgie.” “We do have something,” I agreed and sighed. “Okay – so I’m being a bit prickly. I’m hurting, Fernando. Please don’t hurt me again – at least, not yet. Let me get over this.” “Why don’t you try trusting me for a change? Maybe I’m more in danger of being hurt than you.” I shot him an incredulous look. A little nerve was flicking in his cheek, and it was clear that he was in the grip of some strong emotion. I considered the idea that he might have some reason to complain of my attitude, and realized I might have been a bit harsh. “Sorry – I’ve been like this ever since April was killed. I feel as if there’s a powder keg inside me. It could explode if I don’t keep it clamped down.” “So let it,” he said and pulled over into a layby. He switched the engine off and turned to look at me. “I care about you, Georgie. I want you and I want to be with you. I can’t marry you, but I can give you companionship and comfort – maybe love. Who knows where we might go if we give ourselves a chance?” “Okay.” I smiled wryly. “You weren’t the only one to feel frustrated at Whitney, Fernando. I’ve wanted to be alone with you, every day – but it had to be done.” “Yes, it did,” he agreed. He smiled and reached out to touch my cheek. “We could go somewhere when I get back – by a beach perhaps or take a trip to the country? Get to know each other?” “That sounds like a good idea.” I leaned over to kiss him on the mouth. “Meanwhile – why don’t you get us to a bed and quit wasting time?” ***** I lay in bed after Fernando had gone, first to his own apartment and then to catch his plane. It had been good between us, as good as on the first occasion, which had surprised me.

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Could it be the real thing this time? I knew I had been a bit bolshie with Fernando, but I was still raw inside and it had all happened so fast. Thinking things over, I didn’t care that he had a wife and family – at least I wasn’t going to be foolish over it. I wasn’t looking for marriage and the kitchen sink, not yet anyway. Maybe when I was thirty-something… I enjoyed my career, and I had enjoyed my life until April was murdered – but I had to get over that. I had to build a new life out of what was left. And I had to square things with Steve somehow. ***** Harry Thorpe glanced at the morning paper, as he munched his way through a doorstep of toast, thickly buttered and oozing with coarse-cut marmalade. Hearing the letterbox click open, he went through to the hall of his semi-detached house, picking his way through the clutter of fishing tackle he had abandoned after his last trip to collect his letters. He flicked through them, impatiently discarding the bills and grunting with satisfaction as he saw the envelope he had been waiting for. It had taken a lot of phone calls, and a couple of visits, to persuade an ex-colleague of his to come up with the information he needed, but Sarah Maddison – now Mrs. Johnson - had finally come through. He frowned as he read the information she’d sent him, concerning the social worker who had dealt with Belinda Creek. Maybe it was just idle curiosity on his part, but he had this notion in his head that if he traced the child he might just have a chance of solving the mystery… Thinking about Belinda made him remember his conversation with Georgie Langley after the cremation service. She’d been asking a lot of questions about the Janice Creek murder and he’d almost told her that he’d thought for a moment the child might be a murderer, but at the last moment he’d held back. He wasn’t sure why… just a feeling… If his theory was right… and, yet, surely it couldn’t be? He’d had that nightmare several times recently, and he was beginning to think he might be on the verge of another nervous breakdown… ***** There was a letter from April’s lawyer waiting for me the next morning. The firm had asked me to come in at my convenience. I rang and made an appointment with a Mr. French that afternoon. Steve still wasn’t answering his mobile. I left a message for him. “If you don’t answer this time, I quit. Get your ass back here and do some work before we go bankrupt! Georgie.” If there was anything left of the friendship we’d had, that would fetch him. I worked at home, sending in my copy as usual, and then finished the article

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on heritage that I’d been sweating over for several days. I read it through a couple of times, before sending it to Steve. He probably wouldn’t publish it – it wasn’t really our thing, but I still wanted him to see it. I wore a black trouser suit for my appointment with April’s lawyer. My feet dragged when I got there; this was the last thing I needed to do right now, but it was best to get it over. “Miss April Langley left everything to you,” Mr. French told me, which was more or less what I had expected. “She asks that you continue to pay for Aunt Jane’s nursing home care, but otherwise it’s all yours.” “And her marriage – that doesn’t affect the Will?” “It would have, had the marriage been a true one but, as you know, there was a difficulty with some papers and she wasn’t legally Mr. Rodin’s wife.” “Yes, I see. Have you all the papers you need?” “Yes. You sent them to me, the others were already here. I haven’t had time to go through everything yet, of course but, once probate is granted, there will be assets of around three million before tax.” I nodded. It was no surprise to me. April had been highly paid the last few years, and I knew she had invested much of her money. “It is mostly in property or paintings, isn’t it?” “There are some shares, which I managed for her.” He arched his brows. “Do you have any questions?” “No, not really. I’ll leave you to carry on. I am not very interested in the money – though I shall have to do something with it when you’ve sorted out all the red tape.” “Would you like me to advise you on what to sell and what to keep?” “I wasn’t thinking about investing it,” I said. “I was wondering who could use some of it. I want it to go to something worthwhile.” “You mean – give it away? All of it?” He looked horrified, as if what I had suggested was sacrilege. “Oh, I’ll keep a few personal things,” I said. “But most of it will go to a charity. I’ll have to work out who would benefit the most.” “Well, it is your money, of course.” He was clearly disapproving. “What Miss Langley would have said I do not know.” “April won’t mind,” I replied with a smile. “She would expect me to do something of the sort. I don’t do fast cars and a luxury lifestyle, Mr. French.” “You could invest some for the future – just in case you are ever ill and in need of help.” “Maybe I shall, a bit of it,” I said. “Do you want me to sign anything?” “Not at the moment.” “Fine. Let me know when you do and I’ll come in again.” I felt stifled, and I couldn’t wait to get out of his office, with its plush carpets and the sickly sweet smell of air freshener. I didn’t want to benefit from April’s death. It was obscene! Her money could go to people who needed it. I just had to figure out what would have pleased April. When I was ready, I would come up with some ideas.

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***** Steve had left a message on my answer-phone when I got home. “I’ve missed you, Georgie. I hope you’ve been working your butt off to save me from the folly of my ways? See you tomorrow.” I smiled. Steve sounded normal again. Whatever had been eating at him, he had conquered it. I was glad. It would be good to have my friend back.

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CHAPTER NINE Wherever he’d been – and he wasn’t telling - Steve had collected some new leads for stories that would keep us busy for a while. We didn’t mention our quarrel, or Fernando. Steve gave me a sheepish look when I first went into his office, then started to talk about a pensions scandal he’d been investigating. He handed me a floppy disc, and told me to see what I thought of it so far. “I think it’s right up your street,” he said. “I’ve given you some leads – now get digging!” “Yes, boss!” I saluted smartly and grinned, relieved that we were back to normal. “Have you read any of the stuff I sent in?” “Some – not all. I’ll get around to the heritage piece this weekend.” “Okay – I’d like your opinion.” I was a bit disappointed that he hadn’t read it yet, but I knew he must have a lot of catching up to do. I wasn’t Steve’s only contributor; there were several regular freelance writers who sent in their copy online, and he must have had a pile of work waiting for him when he got back. Besides, the heritage piece probably wouldn’t be right for our readership. Now that I was back to work, the pressure of grief began to lift a little. I still cried, now and then, mostly when I first woke in the mornings, and realized that I would never see or hear April again, but I was keeping busy. For me, the best cure for heartache was work. I was able to lose myself in it for hours, and the pension fraud was a demanding story that had to be presented accurately. It was already well known that the managing director of what had been thought a highly-respectable firm had resigned after discrepancies were found in the accounts. Millions of pounds of people’s money had gone missing, much more than had been thought at the start, and the scandal seemed to have long-reaching tentacles that were going to stretch over a wide area of the financial sector. Just up my street! This was the kind of abuse that really brought out my fighting spirit. The people who had been cheated and let down were often those who could least afford to lose; people who had relied on funds that were now either missing or seriously depleted. And, in my book, that just wasn’t fair! It was of course exactly what I needed and Steve had known that. He was my friend again and the awkwardness between us had passed. He began to perch on the edge of my desk in the old way, holding a mug of fast-cooling coffee while we discussed the stories we were both working on, tossing ideas back and forth. “We’re a good team,” he said one morning. “You aren’t really thinking of leaving – are you?” “Where would I go?” “You’re an exceptional journalist, Georgie. Several magazines might be interested in taking stuff from you freelance.” “I’m not quitting – unless you are?” “This is all I know,” he said. “You’re more versatile. You could do anything – write a book maybe?”

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“Perhaps. One day,” I agreed. “But not at the moment. I enjoy what I do, Steve. Maybe I like conflict.” He grinned. “You certainly know how to hit where it hurts. Keep it up, girl!” I laughed and watched as he went back to his own office. Steve was a great guy, fun to work with, and he’d been a good friend to me. It had been very lonely without him. I suppose I hadn’t realized just how important he was to me. The week was soon over, and I decided to drive down to Cambridgeshire on the Sunday and visit Aunt Jane. She lived in a nursing home just outside the historic city of Cambridge. The house was set in a pleasant situation, with large grounds for the residents and their relatives to walk and sit in, and the rooms were both clean and comfortable but, most important of all, the staff was caring and kind. April and I had chosen the home together, when it became clear that the woman we both loved dearly was going to need constant care. “I can afford the best for her,” April had told me when we’d discussed it, “and she’s going to get the best available. If it hadn’t been for her, you and I might never have known one another. We were lucky, Georgie. Very lucky.” We had been lucky, and I had loved both Uncle Bill and Aunt Jane. I still did, despite the fact that they had lied to us, letting us believe they were our real parents until after Bill’s death. April had been hurt and upset when she’d discovered we were both adopted but, for some reason, I hadn’t minded so much. As far as I was concerned, my adoptive parents had given me as much love as any blood parent. I cherished them and April, and nothing was ever going to change that. I didn’t get to visit my aunt as often as I would’ve liked, but it wasn’t the easiest thing to do, because it hurt seeing her the way she was, knowing we’d lost the old companionship forever. I saw one of the nursing staff as I entered the reception area. Martha was a very pleasant lady and we had talked about my aunt on several occasions. “Hello,” she said. “It’s strange but I was thinking about you this morning, wondering when you would come down. It was a dreadful thing… about your sister…” “Yes…” I hesitated, then, “Do you think I should tell Aunt Jane?” “She probably wouldn’t understand,” Martha said. “She has been very confused recently. She talks about the past, just fragments, hopping from one thing to another and then forgetting all about it. Yesterday she thought it was her wedding day.” “Is she well in other ways?” “Yes, fine. Mrs. Langley is a lovely person. We’re all fond of her. It’s so sad, because I think she must have been a very intelligent lady.” “She was,” I said, remembering all the kindness and goodness I had received from my adoptive mother. “I get very angry sometimes. She doesn’t deserve this.” “But she’s lucky to have people who care for her.” Martha looked slightly anxious. “Will she be able to stay here now? I mean, I know the fees are higher than at some other homes.” “April provided for that,” I said. “There will be a fund to take care of Aunt Jane for as long as she lives.” “Oh, good. It would upset her to move. She’s happy with us and we shouldn’t

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want to lose her.” I agreed and then asked, “Where is she – in her room or the sitting room?” “You will find her in front of the TV. She doesn’t move from there much unless we take her out for a walk. She likes to watch, though I’m not sure how much she gets from it.” “She always liked the television,” I said and smiled. “I’ll go and see her now if that’s okay?” I always made a point of asking one of the staff before I visited, and especially if I wanted to take her out. Aunt Jane was sitting comfortably in a wing chair and one of the auxiliary staff was giving her a mug of tea and a biscuit. Aunt Jane dunked her biscuit in the tea, and then seemed to forget to eat it. “That will fall to bits if you don’t eat it,” I said. She looked up, a smile of delight on her face as she recognized me. “Georgie! I’ve been wondering where you were. It’s time to get ready. Your uncle has the car packed. We’re going to the sea today.” Her biscuit had dissolved in the hot tea. I took the mug from her and left it on the table, then bent to kiss her cheek. “How are you, love?” “I’m fine – but you haven’t been well. Someone said so…” She looked vaguely distressed as if trying to recall something she’d heard. “Are you better now?” “I’m very well, dearest. I brought you some sweets – the chocolate creams you like.” Aunt Jane smiled but a glazed look had come into her eyes and she stared blankly at the TV. It was showing a costume drama, with lots of men dashing about on horses. I felt the familiar sadness inside. This was one of the cruelest forms of illness. A healthy, lively woman reduced to an empty shell, with only moments of clarity. The auxiliary came back and looked at Aunt Jane’s mug. “Oh dear,” she said. “She’s done it again. I’ll pour a fresh one – would you like some tea, dear?” “No, thank you. It’s very kind of you to look after her. I’ll try to make sure she drinks this one.” “Here’s a nice drink of tea, dearest.” My aunt took the mug when I put it into her hands and drank obediently, but she didn’t look at me and I sensed that she wasn’t really aware of me as Georgie. I was just another vague figure in her world of mists and memories. I sat with her for half an hour hoping for a change, but it didn’t happen so I kissed her and promised to come back soon. “That’s nice, dear,” she said. “Tell Georgie I want to see her.” “Yes, I will. I love you…” I felt choked as I left her sitting there, staring at the flickering screen of the TV. It was wrong, unfair, and ridiculous that something like this could happen to a woman like her! Why couldn’t they come up with some kind of cure or preventative treatment? I was raging against the unfairness of life as I drove home. Uncle Bill had died suddenly of a heart attack when he was fifty-six. My aunt was only fifty-seven now.

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Neither of them had deserved what had happened to them. Why was it that crooks and scoundrels seemed to skip through life without a care and good, decent people had to suffer something like this? It was hardly surprising that I had become cynical. I let myself into the flat and discovered that the light on my answer-phone was flashing like mad. The first call was from Steve’s ex wife. “If Steve is with you tell him I want to talk to him!” I blinked as I heard the venom in her voice. That was one angry lady! What had Steve done now – and why did Petra think he might be with me? My second call was from Susie Macdonald, the journalist I had shared a joke with the evening I’d been besieged by journalists wanting to know if April was married. “I wondered if we might meet,” she said. “I don’t want to tread on toes, Georgie, but my editor wants me to do some stuff on April – her life before she became famous. I’ve done some research, but I would like to check with you first. I’m going to treat this with kid gloves, so you needn’t be afraid I’ll start slinging mud. I just want to discuss a few details with you. Give me a ring sometime please.” I made a note of her telephone number. It was better to be consulted by a journalist as sympathetic as Susie, than let the Press indulge in a free for all. Maybe I could help to keep the record straight. My last call was from Fernando. “I’m thinking about you,” he said, his husky tones setting off a tingle that went right to my toes. “We’ll definitely go somewhere warm and exotic when I get back. I’ll ring you again soon. It may not be this evening, because I have meetings. Read your papers tomorrow, Georgie. You might be pleasantly surprised.” I felt a pang of regret as I replaced the receiver, wishing that I’d been home when he’d telephoned. I made myself some supper and a mug of coffee and took it in front of the TV, but after flicking through the channels I switched off and reached for my phone. I might as well speak to Susie right away. Noticing that there was an email for me, I pressed to receive and then realized it was from Atlas. How could it be? A shiver of horror went through me – Teddy Husk was dead, knocked down by a hit and run driver! “One down one to go.” What the hell did that mean? It was distinctly menacing this time –especially if the one to go was meant to be me. I dialed Steve’s number. He answered at once. “It’s Georgie,” I said. “I’m a bit worried about something. Would you mind popping over this evening?”

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“I’ll come now,” he said. “A few minutes, I’m at Antonio’s just down the road from you.” “Am I spoiling something for you?” “It’s business. I’m with you, Georgie.” He hung up and I stared at the message from Atlas again. Just who the hell was doing this to me? Steve was there before I had time to work anything out. “What’s wrong, Georgie?” I showed him the message on my mobile and told him this was the third one I’d received. “I thought they were from Teddy Husk,” I said. “The first one was a bit weird – as if it was supposed to come from April, but the second was about her…” I told Steve what it had said. “Now this…” “Someone is trying to scare you,” Steve said and looked angry for my sake. “Have you told Inspector Thorpe any of this?” “I haven’t told him anything…” I bit my lip. “As yet I hadn’t told Steve about my suspicions concerning April’s visit to Sir Melvin’s estate, but it was time I did. “There’s something else…” Steve listened without comment until I’d finished and then nodded. “I thought there was more to this than met the eye, Georgie,” he said, looking grim. “So your theory is that April discovered someone’s nasty little secret while she was looking for clues about her father?” “It seems likely… don’t you think so?” “Don’t you think that rather points the finger of suspicion at Sir Melvin himself?” “I could believe that he might have killed his lover in a fit of passion,” I agreed reluctantly. “But – to kill April and her husband in cold blood… No, I don’t think so, Steve.” “They were killed with an old ex-army pistol,” Steve said. “Did you know that Sir Melvin was a member of the Territorials some years ago?” “That doesn’t mean anything. Thousands of those pistols must be lying in attics or drawers all over the country.” “Why won’t you admit that he could be guilty?” “I don’t know,” I said and sighed. “I know I’m not looking at this as clinically as I should Steve – and I have considered it, believe me. It’s just a gut instinct that’s all. I think he is involved in some way, but I don’t believe he murdered April and Juan – though the jury is still out on Janice Creek.” “Fair enough,” Steve said. “Your instincts are usually sound, and I was out of line to say the things I did about him fancying you – even if he does, there’s nothing particularly wrong about that. I dare say a lot of men feel the same way.” “Steve…” “Let it go,” he said and smiled at me. “I have. All I want is for things to be the way they were, Georgie.” “That’s what I want too,” I agreed. “I need you, Steve. You’re my only real friend, the only one I can talk to. I’m getting a bit out of my depth here. Where do I go from here?”

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“What about April’s birth certificate?” he asked. “There must be adoption papers, which probably don’t give the name of her real parents – but there might also be a birth certificate. She would have needed one to get her passport I imagine.” “Aunt Jane did that for both of us when we were fifteen,” I replied. “We both went on school trips and Aunt Jane filled in the forms for us – all we had to do is sign them. I’ve never seen my adoption papers or a birth certificate – if there is one. I’m not sure Aunt Jane would have it. The adoption agencies try to keep that a secret, at least until the child grows up -–don’t they?” “They used to make it very difficult,” Steve agreed. “But I think it is possible to trace parents these days if the child really wants it to happen. That’s if they are traceable, of course. People move or die or change their names…” “Yes,” I said and frowned. “It’s odd that I’ve never seen my papers or April’s. April cleared out the bureau after we let the old house go… but she never gave me anything.” “And there was nothing in her safe?” “Nothing like that – which is odd, if she was meaning to tell me about our parents. She was trying to find mine as well as her own.” I fetched the folder from my drawer and gave it to Steve to look through. He glanced at the photographs and read the unfinished letter. “It’s a pity this didn’t get finished.” “Yes, it might have helped a lot.” He handed the folder back to me. “Don’t you think you should tell Inspector Thorpe about your theory?” “I would if I could be sure,” I said. “But I think I should talk to Melvin first.” Steve was immediately alarmed. “That could be dangerous, Georgie. Supposing he is the murderer?” “I don’t want to cause bother for him, Steve. Inspector Thorpe already suspects him of killing Janice Creek. Melvin has been kind to me – I can’t make more trouble for him.” “Don’t see him alone, Georgie. Make sure someone is with you when you speak to him about this.” “I might telephone him – ask him if he will come up to town. You could be present at the meeting – if you like?” “I would feel safer if someone was with you,” Steve said. He was about to say more but my telephone rang. “I’ll answer that…” He was up like a shot. “Yes – who is it?” “Who… Petra? Why are you ringing here?” He frowned and I could hear the sound of a raised voice. Petra was obviously shouting down the line. “I’ve been away. I didn’t feel like answering your calls that’s why. We’re divorced, Petra. It’s over – and please don’t bother Georgie again. My refusal to answer your constant demands is nothing to do with her.” He put the receiver down, and switched on the answering machine, then turned to look at me. “Sorry about that, I didn’t realize she had been bothering you.” “She hasn’t – well, there was a call on my machine earlier. It didn’t worry me, Steve,” I raised my brows at him. “Giving you some trouble is she?”

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“She won’t let go,” Steve said. “It’s my own fault. I let her get away with it for too long. I felt sympathy for her when her father was ill and, of course, I was fond of Ron – but our marriage is finished and she has to accept that.” “She will get tired of ringing eventually. You’ll just have to be tough, Steve.” “I know – but it isn’t easy. I’m worried she might do something stupid. At one time she was threatening to commit suicide, if I didn’t go round there.” “If she wanted to do it she would have,” I replied. “She had you on a string, Steve, and she wants you back there.” He ran frustrated fingers through his hair. “That’s my problem. I just hope she doesn’t cause you a lot of bother.” “I can take it,” I said. “I don’t mind when I know who is threatening me – it’s when I don’t, I get nervous. This Atlas thing isn’t funny.” “It couldn’t be just a crank, could it?” “I suppose it might be,” I said, “but why? I’d never had anything like this before April was murdered.” “Why don’t you contact your server? Ask them to block any calls from that particular source – or change your email address?” “Maybe I will,” I said. “I wasn’t going to give in – that let’s them win – but perhaps it would be a good idea.” Steve nodded. “Normally I would agree with you,” he said, “but rather than be upset by this crank – because he is whatever his motive – I’d change things.” “Yes, you’re right,” I agreed. “I’ll do it first thing tomorrow.” “If you’re nervous about being here alone you could stay with me, Georgie – no stings attached.” “Thanks, but my security is pretty good here,” I replied and smiled at him. “I’m not going to be driven out of my home, Steve. I could spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.” “You won’t change your mind and tell Inspector Thorpe about this?” “I might tell him about the emails,” I said. “But I want to keep the rest of it to myself for the time being. You’ve given me some things to think about, Steve. I’m going to ring the lawyers tomorrow and ask if they have our adoption papers there. Mr. French said he had some papers so they might be amongst the things he has in his safe.” “Yes, that’s a start anyway,” Steve said. “If April did manage to get hold of her birth certificate it might have the name of her father – of course that might not be the case. If she was illegitimate it might just say father unknown.” “Well, it will have the name of her mother – and that would be something,” I said. I made a sound of frustration. “I know I’m missing something, Steve. It’s bugging me. When it finally clicks I shall wonder why I couldn’t see it in the first place.” “Your aunt couldn’t be of any help I suppose?” “She didn’t know who I was when I saw her earlier today. For a moment she seemed to and then it was gone. I wish there was a chance of talking to her about this, but it’s unlikely.” “In that case you have two chances – a birth certificate with April’s father’s name, or Sir Melvin himself. Do you think he would tell you the truth if you asked

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him?” “I think he might… he did say he wanted to talk to me about something. I believe he might want to tell me that April was his daughter, if she is of course. We can’t be certain of that, Steve. It’s just a theory.” “Well, just be careful, that’s all. I don’t want to lose my best journalist.” He hesitated, then, “I’ve submitted your article on heritage to a rather high-class glossy magazine, Georgie. I couldn’t publish it, but I know someone who might.” “Steve!” I stared at him in surprise, feeling enormously pleased. “You liked it then?” “It was brilliant – perhaps one of the best things you’ve ever written. If the editor accepts it I’m sure you will be asked to contribute again.” “That’s terrific. Why didn’t you tell me before?” “Because I didn’t want to disappoint you, if it was turned down, but Eleanor rang me yesterday, and said she thought she would probably use it. She is going to contact you next week to discuss fees – and the possibility of further articles, I should imagine.” “Oh, Steve! Bless you,” I cried. “That’s fantastic.” “I may be a fool, but I think you could go a long way,” he said. “Our little rag doesn’t have the kind of circulation you will reach if you get into this magazine – it’s probably the best of its kind.” “I still want to work for you and with you. I can do anything else in my own time.” “Good.” He glanced at his watch. “I’d better go – if you’re okay now?” “Yes, I’m fine. It was just the shock of finding that on my phone.” “You haven’t given your address to anyone new recently, have you?” “No – but April’s laptop is missing. It would have been logged into that – and anyone could have picked it up from there. Providing they could get into her files.” “That would mean it had to be someone who has had at least some slight acquaintance with computers.” “Yes – which rules out Miss Stratton, Sir Melvin and Brenda.” Steve nodded. “Yes, I don’t see any of them as being a hacker. Appearances are deceptive, of course.” “Of course I do have it printed in the front of my diary – the one I carry in my bag. And it could have been on the letter I sent to Melvin to confirm my visit…” “Get it changed, Georgie – and next time don’t write it down where it can be discovered by anyone who happens to look through your bag.” “Yes, I will,” I said ruefully. I smiled at him. “Thanks for coming over at such short notice, Steve.” “You only have to ask,” he said. “See you tomorrow, love?” “Yes, of course.” I went to the door with him, and made sure the security bolt was on afterwards. Steve was right – anyone looking through my things could have found that email address. Which meant that anyone at Whitney House could have been sending me those messages. But a hell of a lot of other people knew it – so that proved nothing.

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* * * I changed my email address the next morning and sent a notice of the change to all the people I wanted to have it, and then I rang April’s lawyers. “I was wondering if you might have come across some adoption papers amongst April’s things, Mr. French?” “I have rather a lot of papers belonging to Miss April Langley, but I will ask my secretary to check when she comes in. She is away this morning – a dental appointment.” “Thank you. I would be grateful if she could look right away. It is rather important.” “Yes, of course. If they turn up I’ll send them round by courier – shall I?” “Yes, please.” I dialed Sir Melvin’s telephone number. Brenda answered it. “Georgie,” she said brightly. “How lovely to hear from you. I was about to ring you myself. I am coming up on a shopping trip – the week after next. I wondered if we could meet while I’m in town. Perhaps have lunch together or something?” “Yes, of course, providing I’m here. I shall be going away for a few days soon, but I’m not sure when.” “Oh, well, I do hope you will be there,” she said, sounding disappointed. “I was looking forward to seeing you.” “I hope so too,” I said. “Is Sir Melvin around? I wanted a word with him if possible.” “He’s out I’m afraid,” she said. “I’ll tell him you rang the moment he comes in.” “Thank you. How is Miss Stratton? Did you get her to see the doctor?” “She refused to let me,” Brenda said, “but she is a little better now. Whatever it was seems to be clearing up.” “I’m very pleased,” I said. “I know what it’s like when someone you care for is ill. I went to see my adoptive mother yesterday. She is in a nursing home in Cambridgeshire and has Alzheimer’s, which is very distressing. She hardly knew me yesterday.” “That is very sad,” Brenda said. “I sometimes think it is better if people die, rather than live with a disease of that nature.” “I keep hoping that they will discover a new drug one day – something that will bring her back to us. Her memories are all there, somewhere; she just can’t put them together.” “You are kind to go and see her,” Brenda said. “I don’t think I could bear that. I can’t bear to see anyone suffer.” “You worry about things too much,” I said. She gave a nervous little laugh. “I suppose I do – but it’s my way.” “Well, I expect you’re busy. I won’t keep you. Let me know when you’re coming up, and we’ll meet if I’m here.” I was thoughtful as I replaced the phone. Brenda’s fussy ways could be irritating, but she was always pleasant – and it was quite obvious that she cared

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about her aunt. Yet something was beginning to bug me. Steve was right. I hadn’t noticed at first, because I was so distressed about what had happened to April – but there was something not quite right in that house. ***** I met Susie for lunch that day. She was delighted that I had agreed to give her an exclusive, and showed me what she had done so far. It was all very flattering to April and, since I wasn’t going to get any peace until I gave an interview to someone, it might as well be Susie. We had known each other for a long time, swapping notes on a couple of cases we’d both worked on in the past. I liked the way she wrote, and I had always thought she was more honest than most journalists. I believed I could trust her. “This is all very complimentary,” I told her after I had read the copy and looked at the pictures. “I’m not sure there’s much more I can tell you.” “I just wanted to check a few things with you,” Susie said, looking as though she was anxious to please. “I am right to say that you were both adopted, aren’t I?” “Yes, that’s right. We were not actually sisters, though we loved each other as much as sisters – and we were great friends. We talked to each other all the time, except for the few days when she disappeared. You know that April got married during that period – but that her husband’s divorce papers hadn’t come through?” Susie nodded and looked thoughtful. “Was her husband working undercover for the USA in the fight against drugs?” “I don’t think I’m at liberty to tell you that, Susie.” She gave me a meaningful look. “Have you seen the papers today?” “No – I haven’t read them this morning. I’ve been too busy.” “Juan Rodan is credited with having brought down the boss of a South American drugs cartel.” “Yes, of course!” I had remembered that Fernando had told me to read the papers. “So they managed to get one of them then.” “Did you know about this?” “Off the record?” “Scout’s honor.” She gave me a mock salute, but she wasn’t joking. If Susie promised to respect a confidence, she meant it. “Yes, I knew something like this was on the cards. They’ve got some books or papers, computer records, that prove tax evasion, haven’t they?” “Yes, that’s about the size of it,” Susie said. “Do you think April and Juan were killed because of that?” “At the time I was convinced of it,” I replied, “but now – well, I’m not sure.” “Have the police come up with any clues?” “Not that they’ve told me,” I said. “They’ve been looking for something that might have come from a persistent stalker or a jealous lover – but as far as I know they haven’t found anything. April certainly wasn’t worried about anything like that, because she always told me these things. If there had been something on her mind she would have mentioned it.” “Do you have any theories yourself?”

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“I’m working on something – but nothing is certain yet.” “Right, we’re back on record now,” Susie said. “Did April ever know who her real parents were?” “I think she was trying to find out.” “Do you think that had anything to do with the murder?” “I have no idea,” I said. “At the moment I am as baffled as everyone else.” “All right, that’s it,” Susie said. “But if anything new comes up before I go to print – will you let me in on it?” “Yes, if it is publishable,” I replied. “If anyone is going to do this I would rather it was you, Susie. Some rubbish has been printed about this already, and I would really rather there wasn’t any more.” She nodded, and then wrinkled her brow. “It was odd about Teddy, wasn’t it? That he should be killed down there…” “Yes, it is odd,” I replied. “This is strictly off the record, Susie, but I think he may have been killed deliberately – and I am wondering the same thing you are. Had he stumbled on something that made him a danger to the murderer?” “Teddy was a bruiser,” Susie said, “but in some ways he was a good journalist. He wouldn’t let go once he got hold of something. He just kept asking questions and fishing for a lead that could get him a story. I know some of what he wrote was close to being libelous, but there was usually a grain of truth in there somewhere.” “Yes, I know he was tenacious,” I said. “Inspector Thorpe warned me not to ask too many awkward questions. I believe he thinks there may be something more than a simple hit and run accident – but don’t print this, Susie. If you do you could be the next one. Until we know more about all this… well, just believe me that it might be dangerous to appear to know too much. I should hate anything nasty to happen to you.” She looked at me, eyes narrowed. “Have you been threatened, Georgie? I got your email this morning – did you change your address because you were getting odd messages?” “Yes – but if you print this I shall deny it. I’ve had three. They were vicious, and at first I thought Teddy had sent them. We had an argument and I thought it was his way of getting back at me, but I’ve had one since he was killed. The last one seemed to imply that I might be the next victim.” “Have you told the police?” “Not yet. Steve says I’ve got to, but I’m not sure…” “Why? You must tell them. You could be at risk, Georgie.” I shrugged my shoulders. “So what can the police do? They can’t put a twenty-four hour watch on me, and I wouldn’t want them to if they offered.” “But you need to be aware. There is someone very nasty out there, Georgie – someone who will do anything to get what they want.” “What do they want? If I knew that I might have some idea of who had killed April.” Susie nodded and looked grim. “If I were you I would ring Inspector Thorpe anyway. It makes sense to alert the police to anything that might help them.” “Yes, all right,” I said. “I’ve had this from Steve twice already. I’ll do it as

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soon as I get back to the office.” ***** “Three emails so far,” Inspector Thorpe said, when I managed to get through to him. “And now you’ve blocked that route – so you can expect phone calls next. Or poison pen letters.” “You don’t think…” “I don’t think Atlas is playing games, Miss Langley. Not in the light of what has happened. Three murders already, and it sounds as if he’s planning a fourth.” “Why he? It could just as easily have been a woman – couldn’t it?” “Yes, of course. It was a figure of speech. Atlas implies that it is a man – but that might be a form of disguise. Have you any idea who might want to harm you, Miss Langley?” “None at all,” I replied and a shudder ran through me. “Do you think I was the target all the time, Inspector?” “It is looking increasingly likely, Miss Langley. We haven’t been able to find any threatening calls made to your sister. Her emails at work were all straight forward – a few from fans, but they were all complimentary. Of course, if we could find her laptop we might discover something more.” “I can’t think where it has got to,” I said. “April often left things on planes or in taxis. You could try lost property at the airport – or in New York. It might be sitting there laughing at us.” “That’s an idea, Miss Langley.” He hesitated, then, “Now – is there anything more you want to tell me? You haven’t got any further with your theories?” “Not yet,” I said. “As soon as I think of something that might be relevant I’ll be in touch.” “In that case, stay away from lonely places and keep an alarm of some kind with you.” “Thank you for your advice, Inspector.” “You’re a brave girl, Miss Langley. I admire your work. I would rather not have to read your obituary just yet.” ***** Harry frowned as he dropped his mobile on the seat beside him and reached for his glass, taking a sip of malt whisky. He’d known Miss Langley was hiding something from him, and even now he was certain there was more. Was she deliberately deceiving him and, if so, why? Bryne was certain she couldn’t have had anything to do with the murder of her sister but, although Harry was inclined to agree with him, she would bear further investigation. Not that his investigations were getting him anywhere at the moment. So far his research into what had happened to Janice Creek’s daughter, after the social services took her, had come up blank, but that could wait for a while. He stood up and took a turn about the room, standing by the window to stare out at his garden for a moment. The lawn needed cutting but he couldn’t find the

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necessary enthusiasm to do it. If he retired from the force next year, as certain people were suggesting, he would have plenty of time for gardening. Scowling, he poured himself another drink. To hell with the lawn and the people who wanted to run his life for him. He might be slightly mad, but he was still a damned good detective, better than these young idiots who were lost if their computers went down! For the moment he was going to concentrate his efforts on discovering a little more about Miss Georgina Langley and her sister. There was definitely something suspicious going on here and he was going to get to the bottom of it one way or another…

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CHAPTER TEN The idea that I might be a target for a murderer who had possibly already killed three times was not a pleasant one. I wasn’t a nervous person, nor was I given to imagining things, but I caught myself glancing over my shoulder in the street a few times that week. Steve insisted on taking me out to dinner one evening. “You can’t stay in the house the whole time,” he said, “and you’re safe enough with me.” “Thanks – but I’m being careful, Steve. You can’t watch over me the whole time. Besides, it all seems a bit unreal – as if it were something out of a movie.” “It’s real enough,” Steve warned, looking at me grimly. “Let’s look at this from all sides. I know I said at the start that you might have been the intended victim all along – but we have to examine all the angles. There is a possibility the murderer might have been a crank who was obsessed by April, because of her TV show – but it is equally possible that you could have stumbled on something that makes you a danger to someone without knowing it. You may have more clues than you think. Perhaps Atlas thinks you have discovered his identity.” “What has he done?” I asked. “That’s the point, Steve. Why did he want to kill me – and why did he kill April instead? Was it just a case of mistaken identity?” “If we knew that we’d be three quarters there,” Steve replied, running his fingers through his hair in a familiar, loveable way that made me realize how very dear he was to me. “All I am certain of is that he is very dangerous.” Both Steve and Inspector Thorpe were still insisting that Atlas was a man – and they both considered Sir Melvin the most likely suspect. Why was I refusing to accept it? One explanation was that April had come across his guilty secret while researching her mother’s tragic death. He would have been afraid that he would finally be exposed after all these years – yet what kind of a man would kill his own daughter? He would have to be mad or… an evil, cunning, ruthless man, who did not care for anyone or anything. Sir Melvin was not that man; I knew it instinctively. Besides, that scenario didn’t fit with Steve’s theory that I had been the murderer’s intended victim all along. When I pointed that out to him, he stared at me in silence, for a moment, and then sighed. “I’m just trying to work things out, Georgie. I don’t have any answers for you. Maybe Sir Melvin doesn’t have anything to do with this at all.” “Maybe we’re on the wrong track entirely. I don’t believe he killed my sister, Steve – whatever he might have done in the past.” I was surprised that Melvin had not replied to my telephone call, but perhaps he was busy. I thought about ringing again, but decided to leave it a few more days. He telephoned me towards the end of the week. “I am sorry I haven’t been in touch sooner,” he apologized. “Brenda had left a message on my desk but, somehow, I missed it. I found it this morning when I was

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looking for something else.” “I expect you’ve been busy?” “Yes, but not too busy to talk to you, Georgie. I would have rung straight away had I known. Brenda is out at the moment but, from her note, I gathered you wanted to talk to me about something?” “There is something I need to ask you – but not on the phone. I think we need to discuss this privately.” “It sounds serious?” “Yes, I think it is.” He seemed to hesitate for a brief moment, then, “Perhaps I have an idea of what you want to ask – and it isn’t something I care to discuss on the phone either. I think we should meet.” “Can you come up to town?” “Let’s see – I can’t make it tomorrow – but the day after would be fine. Shall we meet somewhere nice for lunch?” “Saturday? Yes, that’s fine with me – but I wondered if you would like to come here first?” “So that we can talk privately?” He was silent again, for longer this time. “I’m not ashamed of what I have to say, Georgie.” “Come here at eleven thirty,” I said. “Afterwards, I’ll take you somewhere nice for lunch.” “I thought I was doing the taking?” “This is the twenty-first century, and I owe you a lot.” “Oh no,” he said. “You don’t owe me anything. And there is something I would like to tell you – if you will permit me.” With that cryptic remark he rang off. I was even more certain now that he was April’s father and, in a way, that pleased me. I liked him, and I thought she would have been happy to know he was her father. She had so wanted to belong to someone! Which was silly of her, because no one could have loved her more than Jane and Bill – and me, of course. I rang Steve, a little later that evening, and told him I was meeting Sir Melvin for lunch on Saturday. He warned me to be careful, and I promised I would, but I didn’t tell him that Sir Melvin was coming to my apartment first. Perhaps I was taking a risk in trusting a man I hardly knew, but for some reason I wanted our meeting to be private. ***** I went into the office the next morning. Steve popped in but didn’t stay, as he had several appointments throughout the day. “I shan’t be free until late this evening,” he said. “Go home when you’ve finished what you’re working on, Georgie. There’s no need for you to hang around here.” “Okay, thanks. I thought I might go shopping in my lunch hour but I can have an extended trip. I haven’t done anything exciting for ages and I need a break.” “That’s right.” He gave me a wicked look. “Go and buy yourself some new

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clothes.” “Yes, I might do that,” I agreed. “I might be taking a few days off soon, Steve – but I’ll tell you in plenty of time, and I’ll make sure I’m up to date with my copy.” A guarded expression came into his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He was determined not to mention Fernando, but I was sure he knew there was something between us. After I closed up the office, I went on a spending spree. Fernando had mentioned somewhere warm and exotic, and I had nothing suitable to wear. It was years since I’d bothered to buy a new bikini. Perhaps because I needed to shake off the blues, I splashed out on some expensive holiday clothes, buying things I wouldn’t have looked at a month ago. I was thinking of what would please Fernando, and I knew chain store just wouldn’t do. For a while I would be living in his world and, for once, I was willing to conform. I was clutching my parcels and looking forward to trying everything on again when I let myself into the flat. The light on my answering machine was flashing furiously again. I pressed play and heard a brief message from the editor of the country magazine Steve had mentioned asking me to contact her, an even briefer one from Fernando, who said he would hopefully be back sometime on Sunday. He sounded a little annoyed because I’d been out again, but promised to ring later in the evening if he could manage it. “Miss Langley?” A woman’s rather anxious voice came on next. “This is Mrs. Stevens from the Briarwood Nursing Home. Will you please ring us as soon as you get in – this is rather important.” My heart jumped with fright. Had something happened to Aunt Jane? Feeling apprehensive, I dialed the number I’d been given immediately. “Can I speak to Mrs. Stevens please?” “Just one moment – who shall I say is calling?” “Georgina Langley.” The line went silent and I sensed something… I drummed my fingers impatiently on the desk. Why hadn’t the message been clearer? What was going on? “Miss Langley?” Mrs. Stevens came on the line. “I’m glad you’ve called…” “Yes. I got your message – is something wrong? Has anything happened to my aunt?” “She isn’t with you then?” “No – what do you mean? Why should she be with me?” “We thought you might have taken her out. It seems – she seems to have gone missing. She was in the garden this morning. Apparently, Nurse Barker only left her for a few minutes – and she disappeared.” “How could that happen? I believed she was supervised all the time?” “Mrs. Langley never wanders as a rule. Some of the patients can’t be left for a moment, but she always sits quietly where she’s left. I’m terribly sorry this has happened. Someone said she went off with a woman, that’s why we rang you. You do take her out sometimes.” “No, it wasn’t me. I wouldn’t dream of taking my aunt out without first checking with you or a member of your staff. What have you done about finding

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her? Are you sure she isn’t in one of the toilets or somewhere in the grounds?” “We have made a thorough search of the house and gardens.” “Have you alerted the police?” “Well, no, not yet. We felt sure she would either be with you or somewhere near by.” “I think you should telephone them now. I shall come down at once. I’ll leave immediately.” “Do you think that’s really necessary? I’m sure Mrs. Langley has just wandered off. She surely can’t be far away, and I’m sure we shall find her safe and sound.” “I wish I had your confidence. She isn’t fit to cope in the outside world alone – that’s why we pay to have her looked after.” “I understand your anger. I really am very sorry. Nurse Barker has already been reprimanded.” “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I rang Steve and left a message for him, and then I picked up my car keys, my shopping abandoned on the floor. If I’d come straight home from the office instead of going shopping… but there was no use in thinking that way. The nursing home was responsible for Aunt Jane’s safety. I was angry that she had been allowed to just wander away like this. Surely someone must have noticed! The whole point of her being in care was that she was apt to do things without noticing what she was doing – left alone and unsupervised she might do anything! Where would she go? She couldn’t walk into Cambridge; it was too far and she would lose track of where she was going long before she got there – but she might not have left the grounds alone. Someone had thought she might have gone with a woman. Who would take a patient away from the nursing home without asking permission? Not someone who was acting out of kindness. The anxious thoughts kept chasing through my mind. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being alone and confused… especially as night began to fall… anything might happen to her. She would be frightened and confused - she might have had an accident! She could even now be lying in a ditch somewhere… The traffic out of London was terrible, and I fretted as I sat for ages hardly moving, my fingers drumming on the steering wheel. I was stuck for what seemed like an eternity, and I began to wish I’d gone on the train, but I had some wild idea of driving round the Cambridgeshire countryside to look for my aunt. She had to be found safe and well. I couldn’t bear the idea of losing her and, at the moment, I had no confidence in anyone else. I would search for her myself, all night, if need be. It was nearly nine o’clock when I reached the nursing home and I was frantic with worry. My mobile lay on the seat beside me. Why hadn’t the nursing home called with news? If anything had happened to Aunt Jane… I parked my car outside the front door, something that was frowned on unless you were picking up a fragile patient – but to hell with the rules! As I rushed into reception my pulse was racing wildly, and I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. The first thing I saw was a police officer talking to Mrs. Stevens and my heart caught with fright. Had they found Aunt Jane? Was she hurt badly? “Oh, Miss Langley,” Mrs. Stevens said and her voice carried a note of relief. “I

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would have rung you but I knew you were on the way down…” “Is she all right? Have you found her?” “You are Miss Georgina Langley?” The police officer looked at me and registered my fear. “It’s all right, miss. There’s nothing to be upset about – Mrs. Langley was found in a teashop in Cambridge. The manager called us when his staff became worried about her because she just kept staring in front of her and didn’t answer when they asked if she was all right. She’s fine – just a little confused.” “A teashop in Cambridge – but how did she get there? She couldn’t have walked all that way and she wouldn’t have had any money.” “The manager told us that his staff thinks another woman was there at the start. They had tea together and money had been left on the table for the bill. It wasn’t until someone noticed that she looked a little vacant that they began to think something was wrong.” “You mean this woman took Aunt Jane there, and then just abandoned her? Why? Who would do such a thing? She could have wandered out alone and been knocked down by a car… anything might have happened. She can’t be left alone that’s why she’s here.” “Well, nothing terrible happened this time,” the officer said. “I gather there’s very little chance of Mrs. Langley being able to tell us what happened – or give a description of the woman who took her away?” “None at all,” I said. I was so angry with him for seeming so casual about it. “It was such a cruel, thoughtless thing to do! Surely the restaurant staff must remember what this woman looked like?” “Apparently they took her to be an older woman, because she was wearing a long tweed skirt and a twinset – and she had a felt hat pulled down over her face…” He sensed my anger and gave me a wry smile. “It isn’t much to go on, miss. I’m sorry.” “We’ll take good care it doesn’t happen again,” Mrs. Stevens said and looked apologetic. “I really am very sorry it was allowed to happen this time. I’ve given orders that she is never to be left alone in the garden again.” I had calmed down now, and I could see she was genuinely distressed. “Thank you – and I’m sorry if I was sharp with you earlier, but I was upset and anxious for her. You couldn’t have expected this, of course.” “I am just so glad she is safely back with us. It was very irresponsible of whoever took her, especially to leave her alone like that.” “It was more than that,” I said as my spine began to tingle and I realized that this might have been a warning to me. “Where is she – may I see her?” “She’s watching TV. She didn’t want to go to bed. I think she enjoyed her little adventure.” Mrs. Stevens frowned. “She said she had been out with a friend.” “But that isn’t possible. As far as I know she doesn’t have any friends these days – at least, no one who would come to take her out. Besides, a friend would have told me she was coming to visit, asked me for my advice. No, I think this was done deliberately… to frighten me.” “What do you mean?” Mrs. Stevens looked bewildered. “I don’t understand, Miss Langley.” “Nor do I – but you’re going to have to be very vigilant for a while. Next time

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we might not get her back safely.” The color washed out of her face. “You can’t mean…?” “I’m not sure what I mean,” I said, “but I am warning you to be careful – and now I am going to see Aunt Jane.” My aunt was sitting in her usual chair. She looked up and smiled as I kissed her cheek. “So you came then,” she said. “Your friend said you would.” I felt chilled as something told me I was right to suspect this had been done to frighten me. “What friend was that, dearest?” “You know. You sent her to see me. We went out to tea together.” “What was her name? Tell me, dearest – what did she say to you? It’s very important.” Her eyes veered away, back towards the TV and I knew she had lost concentration. “Your father wants to talk to you. He thinks you should learn to drive, April. You and Georgie.” “I am Georgie,” I said. “What did she look like – the woman who took you to tea?” “What woman?” Aunt Jane stared at me. “What are you doing here, Georgie? April was here just now…” “Was she? Did you go to tea with April’s friend?” Her eyes had gone blank. She was staring at the TV again. It was hopeless. There was no chance of her telling me who had taken her away from the home. I took her hand and held it to my cheek, my emotions veering between despair and anger. She was so vulnerable and so precious. If I ever found out who had taken her from her home and then abandoned her… Well, I wasn’t sure what I would do. It was a wicked, cruel thing to do, but deep down inside I was sure it had been done to punish me. I had blocked the emails and this was the result. Atlas was showing me that he – or she – could reach me whatever I did. ***** It was late when I returned to the flat. Steve had returned my call. “I’m ringing Harry Thorpe,” he said. “This has gone far enough, Georgie. There’s a nutter out there and he wants to make you suffer. I’m not taking any chances.” At two in the morning, it was too late to argue with him. I just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. Another call had come from Fernando, who sounded more than a little annoyed that, yet again, I was out. He had asked me to ring him when I came in, but I was too exhausted. All the way home, I had been going over and over things in my mind. Why was someone trying to hurt me? If they wanted me dead – why didn’t they just go ahead and do it? A woman had taken Aunt Jane – so had a woman killed April and Juan? It had seemed unlikely to me, and yet it was now a distinct possibility. I could only think of one possible suspect and that was too horrible to contemplate. Why should Miss Stratton want to kill my sister and abduct my aunt?

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I could not see any reason nor could I truly believe she was responsible. Yet she had been acting very strangely since April’s death… and she might have been around when Janice Creek was murdered. What was the connection? There had to be one… but I was too tired to puzzle it out, and I fell asleep still feeling confused and upset. If I dreamed, I did not remember my dream when I woke. Inspector Thorpe rang me early the next morning. I was still bleary eyed and drinking black coffee to try and wake myself up. “I’ve been in touch with my colleagues in Cambridge, Miss Langley. I understand your adoptive mother has been recovered safely – have you anything more to tell me? This might be important and you should tell me anything that is bothering you – however insignificant it seems.” “I may have something to tell you later today. I can tell you it was a woman who took my aunt away from the home, Inspector. Does that help you to draw any conclusions?” “It might. We’ve had an anonymous tip off that a woman was seen driving a white van near the scene of the hit and run – when Mr. Husk was killed. That might mean something or nothing, of course.” “So you’re looking for a woman not a man?” “Or a man wearing a wig.” “Come off it! That’s cheap B-movie stuff isn’t it?” “Is it? You tell me your theories, Miss Langley, and I’ll tell you mine.” “My theories don’t seem to be getting anywhere at the moment. I’m meeting Sir Melvin for lunch. If I have any news for you I will ring you this evening.” “Be sure you do, Miss Langley. Or I might have to charge you with obstructing the law. It is a serious offence to withhold evidence that might affect a case.” As I rang off, I wasn’t sure he was kidding. ***** I was feeling very nervous as I pressed the release and allowed Sir Melvin into the building a little later that morning. My pulses were racing, and I was a bit like a cat on hot bricks. In a few minutes I might be given the answers to at least some of the questions that had been worrying me for a while now. Melvin smiled as I opened the door, presenting me with a large bunch of freesias that smelled wonderful. “I didn’t know what to bring you. I’ve never been taken out to lunch by a young woman before.” “They are lovely, thank you. I’ve always loved freesias.” I inhaled their perfume. “Glorious!” He seemed a little awkward as I led the way into the sitting room, but looked around as if he were interested in my home. “This is nice – comfortable,” he said. “Have you lived here long?” “Since I left college. Aunt Jane became ill while I was still a student, and we had to give her house up soon afterwards. She has Alzheimer’s and needs constant care.”

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“Yes, I did know that…I believe someone told me recently, Miss Stratton perhaps. It was very unfortunate for all of you.” He looked me in the eyes. “You wanted to ask me some questions I believe? We might as well get it over, don’t you think? Clear the air as it were. Then we can talk properly.” “Yes, I think that’s a good idea. I’m not sure if you know, but both April and I were adopted,” I said, motioning him to sit down. “Neither of us knew, until a few years back. We thought Jane and Bill Langley were our parents. It was a shock to us both to discover the truth, but April was very upset. She wanted to know who her parents were. She had been doing some research…” “Miss Stratton told me about your background actually. She is always very good at keeping me informed,” he said, his gaze narrowing as he looked at me. “And you – didn’t you want to know about your parents?” “No, not really. Aunt Jane told me they were both dead and I accepted that. It didn’t seem to matter so much. I was happy and loved and there was nothing I could do, if my parents were dead. I accepted it as the truth. I couldn’t see why Aunt Jane would lie over something like that, but April wouldn’t believe it. She thought our real parents might still be alive somewhere – and, just before she died, she wrote me a letter in which she seems to say that we do both have a parent living. I can’t be sure because she didn’t finish the letter, and some of the documents are missing, but I think she was fairly close to discovering something important.” Sir Melvin nodded. “And did she discover the identity of these people – or have you taken over the investigation where she left off?” I took a deep breath, knowing that what I was about to say was an intrusion into his privacy. “I’m trying to establish what April thought she knew, and I have a theory. As yet, I don’t have much to go on, but I think April may be the child of Janice Creek – and I wondered if you might have been her father?” “You thought April might be my daughter – that that was the reason I suggested you might like to have her ashes interred in my family vault?” He was silent for a moment, his eyes regarding me gravely. “I’m sorry but I have no idea who her parents were – though you are right to assume that I was the father of Janice Creek’s daughter. We had a good relationship and I was fond of both Janice and Belinda. I would have taken Belinda as my own after her mother’s tragic death, but it was impossible.” I felt the disappointment sweep over me. I wasn’t going to find out the truth of my sister’s birth from him. However, there were other questions I needed to ask. “You couldn’t take Belinda for your daughter, because of your wife? You didn’t want to hurt her?” “Because of my wife,” he agreed, “and the circumstances. Some people thought I might have killed Janice. There was a time when the police were considering an arrest I believe.” I met his eyes, understanding what he was telling me. He wanted me to know that he was innocent of the crime. “But you didn’t kill her – did you?” “No, I didn’t kill her, Georgie. I loved Janice. If it had been possible I would have married her. Why would I want to kill her? I’ve never understood why people thought I might have done.”

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“I don’t know why they should – unless it happened in a jealous rage perhaps?” It was a question that had to be asked, even though I could see the hurt in his eyes. “Yes, I imagined you had heard the story, and I came prepared to tell you the truth, Georgie,” he said and gave me one of his sad smiles. “Janice was very dependent on me. I had no reason to be jealous. She was the one who was jealous of the time I spent away from her. If we quarreled at all, it was because she was afraid I would get tired of her, and then she would be alone again. She had no need to worry. I would never have abandoned her. Or my child…” I nodded, believing him sincere. I had never really thought him guilty in my heart, and now I was certain of it. “I am glad you didn’t kill her – but I am sorry you aren’t April’s father. I really thought you might be.” “I can’t be certain, Georgie.” He sighed. “I wish I did know where Belinda was living now. I tried to find out some years ago, but came up against a brick wall. I imagine she has a new identity and a loving family to protect her – at least I comfort myself with that thought. It is a great sadness to me that I was unable to trace her.” “Yes, I am sure it must be. I’m so sorry.” “It is something I have learned to accept,” he said. “These days it is possible for the child to trace her birth parents if she wishes. I can only assume that Belinda would rather not – and perhaps it would be unfair of me to force it on her, even if I could. She would have to learn of the tragedy of her mother’s death. She might not be able to cope with something like that.” “Perhaps not,” I said. “I think she would like to know you – if she ever met you.” “How kind you are,” he said and smiled at me. “Forgive me for saying this, Georgie – but when we met I felt a kind of bond between us. Perhaps I should not say this, but you are almost the same age as my daughter would be now and, with your coloring, you must be very like her.” “Yes, I felt a certain understanding too,” I admitted. “I believed we liked each other…” “I offered the use of my family vault because I wanted to ease your pain,” he said, “but I also wanted to be your friend – if you can accept the friendship of an older man? I assure you I have no ulterior motive … except that I sometimes need to talk. I felt we could talk, Georgie?” “Yes, I felt that too. I should be honored to be your friend, Melvin.” “The honor would be mine,” he said. “Perhaps you would be interested in a little proposition I had in mind?” “What kind of proposition?” “You spoke of my turning the estate into a holiday complex,” he said. “I have given that suggestion a great deal of thought, Georgie, and I am considering following up on your advice.” “It was merely a suggestion. It might not be a viable idea.” “I shall naturally explore that side of it, before going any further,” he said. “But I wondered if you would visit me again soon – go over the estate with me and

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give me some more of your ideas? I’m afraid I’m not the imaginative type and this needs careful planning if it is to succeed.” “I’m not sure what qualifications I have for giving advice,” I said. “But I should be very happy to walk the estate with you and tell you what I think might work.” “That is all I ask.” He smiled at me wistfully. “You could have been Belinda, you know.” It was equally true that April could have been his daughter. Perhaps he hadn’t given that thought much consideration just yet, and it might be too painful for him. To discover that the daughter he had longed to trace had been killed on his estate… a case of history repeating itself. I did not press the point with him, but I still believed there was a possibility that my sister could be Belinda Creek and I still intended to solve the mystery if I could. “I suppose the police haven’t come up with any clues as to why your sister was killed?” Melvin asked, bringing my thoughts back to the present. “I’ve racked my brains, but I can’t come up with any explanation as to why she was killed in that cottage.” “To be honest, nor can I,” I replied. There seemed no point in discussing my theories with him. It would only distress him if I told him I still suspected there was a connection between Janice Creek’s death and that of my sister. “I’ve spoken to Harry Thorpe, but he refuses to tell me anything – though I’m sure he has his theories. He tends to be very tenacious when he gets his teeth into something or someone. I suppose he hasn’t said anything to you? Do you think he has anything to go on?” “I don’t know,” I admitted. “At the moment, I’m feeling totally bewildered. I thought I could crack this case, succeed where the police would probably fail – but I have to admit I’m not doing any better than they are. I feel there is a piece of the jigsaw missing. If we could find that maybe the rest would just slot into place.” I paused as I remembered something. “There is one thing...April had a locket, a silver locket she was very fond of…” His face had gone white suddenly and I stopped. “Has that made you think of something?” “Do you have it?” he asked and I nodded. “May I see it?” “Yes, of course. Shall I fetch it for you?” “Please…” He looked shaken. “I had forgotten, but I gave Belinda a locket once… for her birthday.” “It has an inscription…” “Daddy loves Belinda,” he said, and his eyes closed as he read the answer in my eyes. I raced into the bedroom and returned with the locket. One glance at it was enough. He nodded, seeming overcome with emotion. “It doesn’t mean that she was your daughter,” I said. “Perhaps she found it or someone bought it secondhand in a shop.” I didn’t know why but, suddenly, I wished that I had never mentioned the locket to him. “We still don’t know for sure, do we?” “No, we can’t know for sure,” he agreed. “But I did give Belinda this locket,

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Georgie. And you had already worked it out…” He glanced up at me. “Why? What made you think of it?” “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I suppose it was because she said she knew your estate, but you hadn’t met her… it just seemed to fit that’s all.” “But it would mean…” The shrill ringing of the telephone made him break off. “Perhaps you should answer that… some water. I’ll get myself a glass.” I picked up the receiver as he went into the kitchen. “Inspector Thorpe – I was going to ring you a little later. I do have some news for you.” “I have news for you, Miss Langley. Your sister’s laptop has been found and we’ve made an arrest. We are holding a young local man for questioning.” “A local man?” I was shocked at the revelation. “Am I allowed to know his name?” “Not yet – but I can tell you he lives in a derelict cottage at the edge of Whitney Woods. He was the one who reported something wrong at the cottage that morning. He told another man who works on the estate, but didn’t report it to us himself – and we’ve only just started to question him.” “But that’s Greg,” I said in disbelief. “I’ve met him. He lives with a girl called Rose and they have a young baby. Surely you can’t think he killed April and Juan? No, I’m sure you’re wrong.” “I didn’t say we were charging him with murder – but he is answering some questions for us, Miss Langley. He was in the vicinity of the crime scene that day, and he did sell the laptop to a secondhand shop in Norwich. Fortunately, when the owner of the shop realized who it had belonged to, he rang and reported it.” “Well, that has cleared one mystery up,” I said. “Did Greg say anything about it?” “He says he found the laptop under a bush near his cottage, and he admits selling it – but says he didn’t steal it. However, time will tell. Now you said you had some news for me?” “Yes, Inspector. I have discovered that there is a possibility that April was the daughter of Janice Creek.” “Hang on there,” he said. “You’re telling me that April Langley was Belinda Creek?” “That may have been her name as a child, yes. We were not actually sisters. April was adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Langley, as was I – and neither of us knew who our parents were. But I thought you knew this, Inspector.” “I knew you were not actually sisters, but I had no idea there might be a connection with Janice Creek. You should have told me before, Miss Langley.” “I really didn’t know, though I had begun to suspect April might know something. Sir Melvin has told me that Belinda Creek was his daughter. He does not know for certain if April was Janice’s child, but there is some evidence to suggest that it might be the case – a silver locket he once gave Belinda. He is here now if you would like to confirm it with him?” “I’ll take your word for it, Miss Langley.” He sounded a little strange, and my immediate reaction was to protect Sir Melvin from his suspicious mind. “I thought if April were connected with the estate it might have some bearing on the case, but I’ve changed my mind. I think the killer

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must have been a jealous fan or something similar. Anyway, you will be glad to know that I have decided to leave the detective work to you, Inspector.” “Well, I’m glad to hear that, Miss Langley, but, if you should think of anything else, I shall be interested to hear from you.” “Yes, of course – and thank you for worrying about me, but I don’t think it’s really necessary.” Melvin was looking a little better as he came back from the kitchen. He asked me if the phone call had been from Harry Thorpe, and I told him about the missing laptop. “That rogue!” he said angrily. “I let him stay in the ruin because I felt sorry for Rose – and now he’s done this!” “I don’t think he’s done anything but sell a laptop he found,” I said. “I can’t see Greg shooting anyone just to steal a computer. My sister had jewelry in the cottage and that would have been much easier to sell.” Melvin looked at me for a few minutes and then nodded. “I have to agree,” he said. “He’s a stubborn young man, but I don’t see him as a murderer. This is more police bungling. They’re grabbing at straws because they haven’t come up with any real clues.” “Yes, I agree with you,” I said and smiled at him. “Anyway, I told Inspector Thorpe that we suspected April might have been your daughter, and I think that rather floored him.” “He will probably start suspecting me of killing her now…” Melvin looked at me in sudden horror. “You didn’t think that, Georgie?” “Never! Not for one moment. Scout’s honor.” “Thank you,” he said and smiled. “That locket is undoubtedly the one I gave Belinda – but I’m trying not to believe she was my daughter.” “Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you?” “No, I’m glad you did,” he replied. “We must try to find out for certain, Georgie. Perhaps her solicitor has papers that will prove this one way or the other?” “I shall certainly make inquiries,” I said. “And, now, I think we ought to go to lunch – unless you would rather not in the circumstances?” “Belinda was lost to me years ago,” he said and, again, I sensed the deep hurt in him. “At least this tragedy has brought me your friendship.” “Yes,” I said. “I know it hurts you, Melvin – but it would make me happy if I believed she was your daughter.” “Would it?” He smiled at me. “Then perhaps I should hope for the same?” ***** It was six o’clock before Sir Melvin finally left to catch his train home. I was feeling more relaxed than I had for a while. Somehow, the pressure I had been under since April’s death had eased a little, though nothing was actually solved. I had forgotten all about Fernando asking me to telephone him and, when the phone rang, I was surprised to hear his voice. “So you’re there at last,” he said and I could hear the annoyance in his tone. “Why haven’t you been taking my calls, Georgie?”

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“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said. “It was too late when I got back in last night – well, it was this morning really. I’ve had such a lot going on here, Fernando. I’m afraid I just forgot to ring you today.” “What has been happening – are you all right?” “How long have you got? It’s going to take some explaining.” “In that case, you’d better keep it until I get there,” he said. “I’ll be with you tomorrow afternoon – if you want to see me, of course?” “Why shouldn’t I?” “I’m never sure with you,” he said. “I thought we might fly out to Florida – if that suits you?” “It sounds lovely,” I said, “and I really am sorry I haven’t returned your calls, Fernando, but it has been hectic.” “Forget it,” he replied, but I knew he wasn’t pleased. “I have to go now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I’m looking forward to it. I’ve missed you.” “Have you?” He sounded as though he doubted it. I sighed as I replaced the receiver. My feelings were mixed at the moment. Fernando had come into my life at a time when I needed him, but I had always sensed that it was a temporary thing. And I wasn’t sure where we were going from here. I sighed and put my love affair to the back of my mind. So much had happened in such a small space of time that I hardly knew where I was. It was very odd. I had discovered that I could think about April without the tearing pain at last. I was remembering things now that I had almost forgotten… April running to meet me in the garden with some treasure she wanted to share... sitting on the swing laughing…with the silver locket around her neck. She had never shown me the inscription inside – had she known it was there? Surely she must have done? Was it that inscription that had made her so determined to discover who she really was? Had she believed she was Belinda? What had she discovered before she died? I believed Aunt Jane had been right to keep the truth from us. I wasn’t sure either of us could have coped with knowing that April’s mother had been brutally murdered. It was difficult enough to accept now, and without having previously met Sir Melvin and appreciating him for the man he really was, we might have grown up believing he had killed Janice. I was absolutely convinced of his innocence. I had believed in it before he told me his story and now I was certain. No one could have talked about Janice with such sincerity and been guilty of her murder. He had loved her, but had felt trapped by his marriage and his ambitions. “I wish I’d taken Janice and run away with her,” he had told me over lunch. “If I had, she might still be alive and I wouldn’t have had all the years without her – and my daughter.” “It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known she would die like that – so brutally.” “It was terrible. At the time I thought I should go mad. The case drove Harry

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Thorpe half-mad – but his own child had just died.” “How did she die?” “Knocked down by a hit and run driver. Rather nasty by all accounts. His wife left him afterwards.” “Poor man…” “Yes, I felt sorry for him.” “You’re a nice man, Melvin.” I’d smiled at him. “You will come and visit me sometimes?” he’d asked before he left that evening. “I know it must be painful for you, because of what happened to April, but…” “No, not really. It could have happened anywhere. And I love your house – I love the woods, and April is there in that peaceful place. That will always make it special for me. She may not have been my sister by birth, but she is still April, and I shall never forget her.” “No, of course you won’t. And, if I go ahead with your idea for the holiday complex, you’ll be able to visit as often as you like.” “How will you manage to finance it?” “Perhaps a mortgage. I’ll have to see.” He seemed cheerful. “I didn’t care much what I did before, but things are different now. I have something to look forward to.” I’d smiled and kissed his cheek. There was a ghost of an idea floating around in my head, but I wanted to think it over for a few days, and I would need to speak to April’s solicitors. I was thoughtful, as I reflected on the day’s happenings. I had told Inspector Thorpe that I would be leaving the detective work to him in future, and that was surely for the best. My fierce anger had burned itself out. I had accepted April’s death, and I knew that I could not do anything about her murderer. I must simply hope that the police would catch and punish whoever had done these terrible things. I had to get on with my life. I had been offered generous terms by a prestigious magazine for the piece I had written on heritage, and the editor was very keen to receive more from me. An idea about environmental values was just beginning to form in my head. It was something that fitted very much with my own views, but might just be right as a follow-up to the first article. Instead of watching TV, I would spend the evening working to make sure that I was up to date with my copy, before I left for the holiday with Fernando, but first I would ring Steve, and tell him that Sir Melvin had given April that silver locket.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN Fernando seemed to have gotten over his annoyance, when he arrived on Sunday evening. He had bought me some good wine and a bottle of very expensive perfume. I accepted them with a smile and refrained from telling him that he shouldn’t have. He took me out to dinner and, over our meal, I explained what had been happening since he was away. He listened in silence, making no comment until I had finished. “I have always believed Sir Melvin to be a decent man, Georgie. It was one of the reasons I agreed to allow Juan’s ashes to be interred there. But I had no idea there could be a connection between April and Sir Melvin. You are sure he had no idea?” “I had thought it a possibility, but it was a complete shock to him.” “What made you suspect the connection?” he asked, frowning as if he did not particularly like the idea. “But you knew I was working on the theory…” I broke off as I realized that was wrong. I had confided in Steve eventually, but I hadn’t told Fernando of my suspicions. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t believe I did tell you.” “I had no idea you thought April might be Sir Melvin’s daughter.” Fernando frowned. “I wish you had mentioned it to me. You do realize that this could put quite a different complexion on the case?” “Yes, of course I do. Steve and I have talked about it, but we still can’t come up with a solution.” “You have spoken to your employer about this, but not to me. I think you might have shown a little more consideration, Georgie. My brother was murdered as well as your sister.” “I haven’t forgotten. I’m sorry.” Why had I confided in Steve and not Fernando? I wasn’t sure, but it seemed significant somehow. Maybe I didn’t quite trust this man the way I did Steve? Whatever the truth, and despite our disagreements, the physical attraction was still as strong as ever. We made love that night, and it was as good as the first time. As we drank coffee afterwards, I asked Fernando where he was taking me to in Florida, which was, after all, a huge state, with many different features and attractions. “Where would you like to go?” he asked, smiling at me indulgently. “I’m not sure. I suppose Florida to me is the Disney theme park or the Everglades, besides those miles of golden beaches, of course.” “It is certainly known as the Sunshine State,” Fernando agreed. “If it would please you, we could take the tourist trail – but I had something rather different in mind.” I raised my brows at him and he shook his head. “Why don’t we let it come as

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a surprise?” “You are the most infuriating man at times!” “Yes, I have been told that before,” he laughed huskily, seeming at his most attractive. “What I had in mind was cruising round the Keys. We could do a little fishing, swim, lie in the sun – and make love. I spend most of my life rushing from one place to another, Georgie. A few days of peace with you would be something special for me.” “It sounds like heaven. I’ve never been on a cruise.” “I could show you a whole new way of life if you would let me.” The picture he was painting was tempting. I could have raised all sorts of objections but, for the moment, what Fernando was offering was very appealing. I needed to get away from all the horror and anguish of the past few weeks… to leave my life behind, for a while, and be someone else, someone for whom the shadow of murder did not hover so closely. “Let’s start with the cruise and see how we go on, shall we?” “Whatever you want,” Fernando said. “I’ve put everything else on hold for the next ten days. For once in my life I’m going to do exactly as I please.” “That must have taken some organizing?” He nodded, and I felt flattered. Fernando had gone to a lot of trouble to take this holiday with me; the least I could do was to smile and be happy. “It’s a good thing I bought a couple of swimsuits,” I said, and kissed him on the mouth. “When do we leave?” ***** We left the next afternoon in Fernando’s own private jet. After being shown to the VIP lounge at Heathrow, we were whisked through the formalities in a way that opened my eyes. “All they needed to do was lay out the red carpet,” I remarked wryly as we sat ensconced in our luxurious seats on board the plane. “Do you always get that kind of treatment?” “Usually.” He smiled oddly. “Does it offend your sense of justice, Georgie?” “No. There are other things that offend me more. Your wealth entitles you to some privileges.” “Thank you.” I could see he was amused. “But you would prefer that I gave it all away?” “That would be ridiculous of me, wouldn’t it? I dare say you are in a position to help society in many ways and you probably do.” “Yes, I probably do,” he replied, but did not elaborate. “Were you satisfied with the results of Juan’s work? He may have indirectly helped thousands of people – though, of course, it’s only a matter of time before the monster grows another head.” “Which you, or someone like Juan, will attempt to cut off?” He smiled as I arched my brows. “I don’t think we should get into this too far – do you?” “It might make for a more relaxed holiday if we don’t.” “Okay. I shan’t raise another eyebrow for ten days.”

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“I wonder why I don’t quite believe that?” I leaned across to kiss him on the mouth. “Believe it, Fernando. This holiday is going to be perfect, scout’s honor.” “Okay, I believe you.” He placed his hand at the back of my head, deepening the kiss so that I felt desire leap inside me. Whatever else we might disagree on, we had this in common. Perhaps that wasn’t very much but, for the moment, it was satisfying. The flight was long but incredibly comfortable. We were waited on like princes – which I suppose Fernando was in his own way – and we had every facility to rest, sleep and refresh ourselves. For someone who had only ever flown on a package holiday it was like visiting another world, and I began to feel I was living in a dream. It all seemed a little unreal. This wasn’t me and it wasn’t my life – but it was pleasant just to let myself drift for a while. I would be a liar if I pretended to hate it. I might think it a waste of energy, money and resources but, like anyone privileged enough to taste the high life, I enjoyed the experience. When we finally arrived in Miami, we were whisked through the airport and driven in a very large and expensive car to an impressive hotel. The sense of being in a dream increased, as I was shown into a fabulously luxurious suite, where champagne waited on ice, huge baskets of flowers perfumed the air and everyone seemed to live merely to please us. “Anything you need, Madame,” the bellboy said, “just ring and someone will come.” “Supposing I asked for something the hotel doesn’t have?” I said to Fernando, a mocking tilt to my head as I challenged him. “Then I shall arrange for it to be flown here immediately,” he replied, his tone as mocking as my own. “What can you conjure up from that fertile mind of yours, Georgie? I warn you, it will need to be inventive to catch them out.” “The nectar of the gods,” I said, “because, I don’t think, even you can’t manage that, Fernando.” “Come here, and I’ll see what I can do,” he murmured, pulling me against him hard. “I believe you are talking of love, my darling, and I can mostly certainly provide you with a surfeit of that…” I laughed as he swept me up in his arms and carried me to the bed, showing me that he was a man who kept his promises – at least in one respect. I was floating on clouds, my fears and doubts left behind somewhere in the cool, grey climes of England. Here, in this palace of plenty, I was prepared to believe in fairytales in a way I would never have done in London. Indeed, the food offered me might have been ambrosia for all I knew. We spent the night at the hotel and the next morning flew by helicopter to Key Largo, the island where Fernando’s yacht was moored. If I had raised eyebrows at his private jet, they went up several notches as I saw the gleaming white yacht. It was huge and inside there were several luxurious suites for entertaining guests. The crew was well trained and respectful. If they wondered about the woman their employer had brought on board, they gave no hint of it, even though they must have been aware that I wasn’t of his world. The staterooms were more palatial than the hotel we had stopped at

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overnight, beautifully furnished and scrupulously clean. I thought the crew must spend their whole lives cleaning, and I discovered, during our trip, that I wasn’t far wrong. Nothing I had ever experienced had prepared me for this. Fernando’s yacht was a floating palace, and he was lord of all he surveyed. I had only to see the respect with which he was greeted to understand the importance of the man. I had known he was wealthy. I had suspected that his lifestyle was very different to any I had experienced, but somehow I hadn’t expected him to live quite like this. It wasn’t that he snapped his fingers or treated others as underlings, he was far too much of a gentleman for that, no, and it was just that others expected to serve him. I was determined not to spoil things. This was something I might never experience again – cruising on a calm sea in gorgeous sunshine with a man who could make my bones melt with a look or a kiss. It had to be wonderful and it was. Fernando had surprised me with a wardrobe full of wonderful new clothes, once we were on board – the kind I had seen wealthy women wearing in Hollywood movies. “You don’t have to wear them,” he said, when I stared at him in silence for a few moments. “I bought them for you – but wear your own if you would rather.” “They are beautiful…” I fingered the fine materials reverently, taking out a long, slim-fitting, white silk, sleeveless dress and a matching coat, both with slits almost to the thigh. The sheer elegance of the ensemble took my breath away, and I knew that it had been cut by a superb craftsman. It would look fabulous on and I should be foolish to spurn such a wonderful gift. “I’ll wear them for you, Fernando. Why not?” “I want you to be happy,” he said and touched my cheek. “You are beautiful, Georgie – so why should you not have beautiful things?” Everything he had chosen was in perfect taste, simple, classic designs that relied on the quality of the cutting and the material, but many of them in jewelbright colors that looked like a rainbow as I rippled my hand across them. Matched with a variety of leather belts, Italian sandals and long silk scarves, these outfits would make me look as if I had stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine. The idea amused me, and I giggled as I tried them on one after the other, Fernando watching and approving as I twisted and turned for his benefit but, in the end, I wore nothing at all, as I lay in his arms. “I think I wasted my money,” he murmured huskily. “This is the way I want to see you, Georgie.” “I’d better put something on when I come on deck,” I replied wickedly. “That’s unless you’re planning to spend the whole trip in the cabin?” “I might even do that,” he replied, and bent his head to kiss me again. It was a very special time for both of us. Each day blurred into the next, slightly unreal but pleasant. I had no quarrel with Fernando’s lifestyle – if he gave it all up tomorrow, it wouldn’t change the situation of the underprivileged. What was needed, to my mind, was for the rich and powerful of this world to make the kind of laws that would bring a new dimension to equality. Meanwhile, I was prepared to enjoy myself. Perhaps this wasn’t my world but, in this new mood that had gripped me, I could appreciate the benefits and enjoy

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my surroundings – and the Florida Keys were undoubtedly a little bit of heaven. A verdant island chain stretching across a deep bluey-green sea. The islands themselves were a wilderness of flowering lushness, a necklace of jewels shimmering beneath the sun, though they were also beset with many of the tourist problems encountered in paradise these days. Despite all efforts to protect the coral reefs and the treasures of these islands they were suffering from the influx of eager visitors. Over the next few days we swam, went skin-diving and snorkeling, fished for snapper and snook, and marveled at the dolphins that sometimes came to join us at our play. Fernando taught me to water ski, and we hired jet skis to whiz us up and down the bays. He made me laugh, teasing me gently, sweeping me along on a tide of passion as we made love lying on a deserted beach. Sometimes we explored some of the smaller islands, walking on sandy beaches or watching the elusive deer and pale raccoons that inhabited the Lower Keys. Throughout these woods there were exotic trees, and tropical birds flitting amongst the lush greenery. In the evening we occasionally put in, to one of the larger islands and went out to dinner, dancing until the early hours of the morning – but at other times we simply sat and watched the wonderful sunsets over the Keys. His excellent chef provided us with delicious picnics, which we ate in our splendid isolation, sipping fine wines and long, cool fruit drinks. My skin turned a pale gold in the warmth of the sun, and I glowed with a feeling of well-being. London seemed far away, as did all the events of the past few weeks. I could almost believe that none of it had ever happened, though of course there were some things I would never completely forget. It was on the ninth day that I went up on deck, wearing yet another new outfit that Fernando had bought for me. He was already there, using his mobile phone, his back towards me. “You should have told me sooner. You had no right to keep this from me, Arianne. I would have come home if I had known…” Fernando turned and saw me. “I’ll be there in a couple of days.” He was frowning as he closed the call. “Something wrong?” I asked, going to look out across the rails to the mangofringed shore of an island. “Just business…” “No,” I said, looking round at him as he joined me. “I don’t think that’s true, Fernando. That was personal, wasn’t it?” “I suppose there’s no point in trying to hide it. The call was from my wife. She wanted to know when I was coming home. It’s been some weeks since I was there. I’ve been avoiding it.” “Why – because of me?” “Yes. I needed to be sure how I felt – that this wasn’t just a physical thing that would burn out in a few weeks.” “And?” He hesitated and I started to move away, but he caught my arm preventing me. I looked back at him. “You don’t have to pretend, Fernando. I’m not demanding anything.” “I care about you, Georgie.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. “I’ve been

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thinking that I might ask Arianne about a separation. Divorce isn’t an option, but I was ready to make a change…” “You were – but now you’re not so sure?” I read the uncertainty in his face and it hurt. I had been prepared for this but it still stung like mad. “Why? What did Arianne say that changed your mind?” “Don’t leap to conclusions,” Fernando said and I saw that he, too, was hurting. “I may have to put the separation on hold, that’s all.” “You still haven’t answered my question. Why have you thought better of leaving your wife? Why did she really ring you? She must be used to your being away half the time.” “She just told me that our son has leukemia.” I saw the anguish in his eyes and knew why he was hurting. “He’s six years old, Georgie.” “Leukemia? Oh my God!” I cried. “Fernando, I’m so sorry. You have to go home right away. She needs you, and so does your son. You have to be with them.” “Yes, I think I do,” he said. “I’ll go in a couple of days, when I’ve seen you home, Georgie.” “Get us back to an airport,” I said. “I can take myself home. If you imagine I’m going to stay here another day now that I know – How long have you known?” “Just now – that phone call was the first I’d heard of it. Arianne has been back and forth to hospital for weeks apparently.” “You have to go to her and your son, Fernando. Give the order now – please?” He stared at me for a few moments longer, then inclined his head and walked away. I stood where I was, gazing out at the island we were to have visited that day. Our holiday was over. After half an hour Fernando came back to stand beside me. “I didn’t want it to end,” he said. “It had to soon anyway. This isn’t real life – for either of us.” “I’m not sure when I shall get to England again.” “I know. Your family comes first – and your work.” “I love you, Georgie. I know you don’t believe in love…” His dark eyes seemed to burn into me. “But I do love you.” “Who says I don’t believe in love? I just don’t believe in happy endings.” “Maybe… when this is all over.” “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” I turned to him, suddenly aware that he meant more than I had ever expected or wanted. “I love you, Fernando. I didn’t intend to say it, or to let it happen, but it has, and I want you to know that, whatever happens now, I shall always be glad that we had this time together.” “Georgie, I…” “No – don’t say anything.” I touched my fingers to his lips. “Let’s make the most of our last few hours. Take me to bed, love me.” “Georgie!” He crushed me to him, his lips bruising mine in a hungry, desperate kiss that set the blood racing in my veins. “I can’t let you go – I can’t!” Our lovemaking was sweeter, hungrier, and more poignant than it had ever been. We had been forced to admit our feelings, because we were being torn apart, and we both knew that this was the end. Fernando was fighting it but, in his heart,

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he knew. I had always known that it could not last. In those last hours we lived a lifetime of loving, and I knew I would never forget this time or him. I hadn’t wanted to love him. I’d fought it desperately, throwing up a barrier of cynicism to protect myself, but my defenses had been swept away. For the first time, I gave myself to him with love, and it was something I had never felt before. Afterwards, I lay in his arms, and wept as he stroked my hair. “It’s not over,” he said huskily. “I love you. I won’t give you up. One day we’ll be together…” He was lying. We both knew it, but it eased the sting of my grief because I knew he wanted to believe that he was telling the truth. He wanted to believe we had a future together. We didn’t, of course. We were from different worlds and, now, his world was reclaiming him. I had always known it would happen, so I couldn’t complain, but that didn’t stop it hurting. It didn’t stop me wanting to protest that it wasn’t fair. But, deep in my heart, I knew that I had no choice but to let him go. ***** Fernando made sure that I would be flying home first class, and that I would be looked after. The service wasn’t quite up to the standards of that from his own staff, but it was fine. All I wanted was to be left alone. I had more luggage than when I’d left home. Fernando had insisted I keep the clothes he’d bought for me – which I knew I would never wear again. I would probably dump the whole lot in the first church jumble sale advertised near me. It didn’t matter. He had wanted me to have them, and I hadn’t felt up to arguing the point. Behind my designer sunglasses, my eyes were red from crying. I felt lousy by the time I reached my flat. And that was my own stupid fault! I had known exactly what to expect from the beginning, and I would have to live with what had happened. I would get over it! It just felt like hell at this moment. The light on my answering machine was flashing when I got in, but I was too damned tired to bother with that now. My whole body ached and I felt as if I had been rolled over by a steam tractor. I was going to take a shower and then crash out for a few hours. Maybe things would look better in the morning. ***** My front door bell was ringing loudly when I finally surfaced the next morning. I fell out of bed and went to investigate who could be calling at this unearthly hour. It was only… twelve-thirty. Twelve-thirty in the morning! I had thought it was still early. My personal time clock had gone completely haywire. “Are you there, Georgie? I got your message to say you were coming home sooner than you’d intended. Are you all right? Can I come up?”

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“I’ve just struggled back from the depths” I said. “I’m pressing the release now. Is something the matter?” “I’ll tell you in a minute…” I realized I wasn’t wearing anything and went to slip on a dressing robe, returning just as Steve arrived at my door. I opened it to admit him and his eyes went over me searchingly. “Tanned but exhausted,” was his first observation. “Is that just jet lag, or have you been crying?” “Don’t ask, Steve. I would rather not lie to you, and I’m not up to answering at the moment. I was going to ring you later. Why all the rush?” “Aunt Jane has been ill, Georgie. They took her to hospital in a hurry – a heart attack they think. She was unwell for a couple of days, and then this happened suddenly. We left messages on your answer phone, but none of us knew how to reach you. Your mobile wasn’t receiving.” “I didn’t take it with me…” I had wanted to get right away, but I hadn’t expected anything like this to happen. My legs had turned to jelly. I stumbled towards the nearest chair and sank down, reeling from the shock of this latest blow. “Is she going to die?” I croaked as the tightness grew in my chest. I was having one of those odd panic attacks that had occurred from time to time in my childhood, and I could hardly breathe. “No. Don’t pass out on me, Georgie.” Steve looked alarmed. “I promised Mrs. Stevens I would bring you down as soon as I could. Apparently, she asked for you several times.” “Did she?” My heart felt as if it was being squeezed. “But she doesn’t always know what she’s saying… I should have been here, Steve. I should have been here when she needed me.” “It wasn’t your fault. How could you know this would happen while you were away?” Steve knelt down in front of me and took my hand. His manner was gentle, concerned, almost loving. “I’m here, love. Whatever else happens I’ll be around. Hang on to that thought. It may just be Steve, but he’s there for you – always.” “Oh, Steve!” The sob of despair burst from me. “I can’t lose her, too – not when I’ve just lost April...” “It’s bloody unfair,” Steve said roughly, “but we don’t know for sure yet. Go and take a shower, Georgie. I’ll wait while you get ready and then I’ll drive you down there.” “Thank you.” I blinked back my tears. “Damned fool! Me, not you. I’m in a mess, Steve. I need to get my head straight. I’ve been a bloody idiot!” “Glad you said it instead of me,” Steve said. “We’ll get through this, love – and I’ll be with you every step of the way.” “You’re my best friend, Steve. I’m not sure I could cope without you right now.” “Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to. Quit wasting time, Georgie. We have to go and see Aunt Jane. Time enough for you to feel sorry for yourself later.” “I’m not feeling sorry for myself!” I denied hotly. “Make the coffee and I’ll be

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with you in a few minutes.” “Yes, boss!” He gave me a mock Nazi salute. I laughed chokily. “That’s better,” Steve approved. “Hit back, Georgie – it’s the only way.” I smiled at that, and went off to shower and dress, trying not to panic. My aunt had been ill, but that didn’t mean she was going to die. Please don’t let her die! We left as soon as I’d thrown a few things into a bag. I hadn’t bothered to check my messages; they seemed unimportant beside the one Steve had brought me in person. In any case most of them were probably from him and Mrs. Stevens. “She was very upset when they rushed your aunt off to hospital,” Steve said. “She contacted me to ask me to find you, but I didn’t know where you’d gone.” “Poor Mrs. Stevens,” I said. “After what happened last time, she must be thinking I shall blame her for this, but it isn’t her fault, of course.” “No, of course not.” “I just hope she is going to be all right. I feel so guilty…” “Well, don’t. You couldn’t have done anything if you’d been here.” “No, I don’t suppose I could,” I replied, but I still felt guilty – as if I had deserted my aunt. “Sir Melvin rang me yesterday,” Steve said. “He told me you were going to help him with a business project…” “I’m going to give him my opinion about something,” I replied. “It means I shall be visiting more often I expect – at least for a while.” “I still think you ought to be careful, Georgie. I know you like the man and there’s a possibility that he may be April’s father, but…” “You don’t trust him,” I said as he hesitated. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Steve, because I may spend weekends there quite often and I thought it would be pleasant if you came too…” “I thought…” He paused and frowned. “You’re not thinking of moving in with anyone then?” “No. I’m not thinking of moving in with anyone.” Steve was silent. I hadn’t told him my affair was over, but he seemed to know it, just as he’d known when it began. “If you want to stay with your aunt for a while, just until she gets better – I can come down and discuss anything we need to talk about, and you can send in your copy in the usual way. I’ll look after everything this end, check your messages…” “Thanks, Steve,” I said and smiled at him. “You’re a good friend. I think I probably shall stay for a while.” ***** The journey down to Cambridge seemed to take ages. When we finally arrived at Addenbrookes Hospital, it was to meet Mrs. Stevens just leaving the geriatric ward to which my aunt had been taken. When she saw me she looked startled, and then her face crumpled and she started to weep into her handkerchief. “Oh, Miss Langley,” she said in a muffled tone. “I am so sorry … so very sorry. We did everything we could for her, but it was no use.”

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“You mean…” For a moment I swayed, but Steve was there to support me and prevent me from falling. “When – when did she die?” “Just a few moments ago,” she said. “She was very peaceful at the end, Miss Langley – and she spoke your name. I believe she thought I was you.” “Did she say anything?” I took the handkerchief Steve offered and wiped my face. “She asked for me several times, didn’t she?” “Yes…” Mrs. Stevens frowned. “We can never be sure with patients like your aunt, Miss Langley – but I had the impression that she wanted to tell you something. At the end she mentioned a letter…” “A letter? Do you have any idea what she meant?” “She seemed to be apologizing to you,” Mrs. Stevens said. “I heard her say she shouldn’t have lied to you. Yes, yes, that was quite distinct. I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you. Except to say that I am very sorry.” “Thank you. I shall be in touch soon, Mrs. Stevens. For the moment I would like to see my aunt … before they…” “Yes, of course. We shall pack her things naturally. Would you like to collect them – or shall we send them on to you?” “Oh – send them please,” I said. “Excuse me… I have to say goodbye…” ***** They let me sit with Aunt Jane for half an hour, before they told me I must leave. I was struck by how peaceful she looked lying there, almost like her old self. “I’m so sorry, dearest,” I said as I bent to kiss her cold lips. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here, and I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you more often.” After I had said my farewells, I left the hospital ward and found that Steve was waiting for me outside. He came to me at once, taking me in his arms and holding me as I wept against his shoulder. “Cry it all out if you want, Georgie,” he murmured. “At least she’s at peace now, love. She isn’t suffering anymore.” I looked up at him, my cheeks wet with tears. “No, she isn’t suffering,” I said. “But I still wish I’d been here when she needed me, Steve. She wanted to tell me something. I’m sure she did.” “Perhaps she left you a letter amongst her things,” Steve said, looking thoughtful. “Before her illness Aunt Jane was a very sensible, fair-minded woman. It’s quite possible she wanted you to know the truth about your parents – and April’s. “Yes, I think that’s what it may have been,” I said and lifted my head to look up at him. He smiled and wiped the tears from my face with his fingertips. “Thanks, Steve. Thanks for being here when I needed you.” “Glad to be of service,” he said. “You’ll need to make arrangements for the funeral. Do you want to do that while we’re here? Or shall I drive you back to London?” “I’m not sure… Yes, perhaps I will go home.” “Was there something else you wanted to do? Somewhere else you wanted to go?”

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“No – No, I don’t think so. I might go down to Norwich this weekend, but it would be better to telephone first and let them know. I can’t just descend on Brenda without some warning.” “I’m not getting at you over this,” Steve said, “but think about it before you decide to visit, just be a little wary, Georgie.” “Thanks for caring,” I said and kissed his cheek. “But I’ve decided that all those wild theories of mine were way off base. April must have been killed by some nutter – a jealous fan.” “I hope you’re right,” Steve replied. “I’m just warning you to be careful who you trust, that’s all.”

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CHAPTER TWELVE It was very hard to make the arrangements for Aunt Jane’s funeral. I had lost first my sister and now the woman I had thought of as my mother for years – and my brief love affair with Fernando was over. For a while, I hoped that he would ring and tell me he had decided that he couldn’t live without me, that I was the most important person in his life. It didn’t happen, and I could not have accepted such a gesture if it had. I’d always known that our relationship could not last but, foolishly, I had let down my guard during those magical days on Fernando’s yacht and now I was paying the price. I telephoned Whitney House and spoke to Melvin. “I’m so very sorry to hear about your aunt,” he said. “Would you like me to attend the funeral with you?” “That’s very kind of you,” I said. “It won’t be until the middle of next week – but I thought I might come down for a couple of days and then go on from your house.” “I think that’s an excellent idea,” he said. “We should all love to see you, Georgie – and, if you can persuade that friend of yours to stay with us, he is very welcome.” “You are speaking of Steve?” “Yes. Did he tell you I telephoned him while you were away?” “Yes, he did. Was there something in particular you wanted to know?” “I wondered if you’d heard any more from April’s solicitors?” “No, I don’t think anything came from them while I was away. I had forgotten for the moment that we were expecting some papers, but I’ll telephone them again and ask what has happened.” “It isn’t a matter of urgency,” he said. “You’ve had a lot on your mind, Georgie. It would be nice to discover whether or not April was my daughter…Yes, Miss Stratton…” He broke off to speak to his secretary for a moment. “I’m sorry about that, Georgie. Miss Stratton wanted something. As I was saying, it would be nice, but it can wait until you are feeling more yourself.” “I shall ring the solicitors in the morning,” I said. “I can’t imagine why they haven’t sent them to me – if they have anything of course. Will you tell Brenda to expect me at the weekend?” “Yes, of course, my dear. I know she will be delighted to hear it. Miss Stratton hasn’t been at all well recently, most unlike herself. Brenda is very worried about her.” “Yes, she mentioned it to me, but I thought there had been an improvement?” “It’s very odd, she seems better some days than others … I don’t like to say it, but her mind seems affected. She forgets things. I’ve never known her to be like this before. It really is most upsetting.” “I’m very sorry. I know that kind of thing can be very worrying.” “Yes, of course. You’ve had experience of that yourself. Once again, I can only

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say how sorry I am. I know you were fond of your adoptive mother.” “Yes, I was. I had lost her sometime ago, of course, but death seems so final.” “It always is, my dear.” “Yes… Well, I shall see you at the weekend.” I rang off as the tears caught at my throat. Sir Melvin’s kindness was almost more than I could bear. ***** Once again, going back to Whitney was like returning home. I had persuaded Steve to accompany me, and Brenda was there to welcome us at the door. She kissed my cheek, the suspicion of tears in her eyes “I am so pleased to see you, Georgie,” she said. “What a terrible time you are having.” “Yes…” I glanced beyond her to where Miss Stratton stood, like a pale specter, at the foot of the stairs. There was no welcoming smile on her lips, and she frowned as she turned away. “It hasn’t been very pleasant just lately.” “I wish I could come to your aunt’s funeral with you,” Brenda said as she led the way inside. “I am truly sorry, Georgie, but I cannot leave my aunt alone at the moment. I am sure you understand?” “Yes, of course. Besides, you didn’t know Aunt Jane. I wouldn’t expect you to come.” “You are always so brave, Georgie,” she said. “But you will not be quite alone. I know Melvin intends to come with you and I expect you will have other friends.” She sighed and looked sad. “There will only be Melvin, Steve and me - besides the staff from the home,” I said. “And I shall come back here afterwards. I thought I might stay here for another day or two after the funeral – if that is all right with you?” “Yes, of course it is,” she said at once. “You know we love having you here.” “Thank you.” She gave me an approving look. “Please go on up to you room, Georgie. You know which is yours by now. I’ll show Steve to his – and tea will be served in the drawing room in half an hour.” Steve glanced at me and pulled a face, but I ignored him. Brenda was undoubtedly a fusspot but she meant well. ***** The funeral service was very brief. For some reason I did not cry. Perhaps I had used up all my tears. Afterwards, Mrs. Stevens spoke to me for a moment. “I just wanted to ask what you wanted to do with Mrs. Langley’s clothes,” she said. “I have gathered all her personal effects and they will be delivered to you in London in a day or so – but you won’t want her clothes?” “No, I would rather you disposed of them,” I said. “Yes, I rather thought you might. Some of them are quite good, you know. There are lots of old people who could do with them – if you don’t mind my passing

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them on?” “Of course not. Do as you think fit.” “I shall of course go through everything carefully so that no valuable items are given away.” “Thank you, but I doubt my aunt had anything very valuable with her. I would be grateful if you could look for a letter though – any papers or documents she might have kept.” “Yes, of course. Once again, may I say how sorry we are to lose Mrs. Langley. Everyone was fond of her.” I thanked her, but I was glad when I could leave and drive back to Whitney with Steve and Melvin. Steve had decided to return to London that evening. “Are you sure you won’t come with me, Georgie?” he asked, and I knew he was reluctant to leave me there alone. “Not just yet,” I said and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for everything, Steve. I shall be in touch soon.” “Ring me,” he said, “especially if you are worried about anything – day or night.” “Good gracious,” I said. “Anyone would think I was alone here. Don’t worry, Steve. Brenda and Melvin will look after me.” Brenda was waiting for me when I returned to the drawing room after seeing Steve off. “Isn’t this nice,” she said, looking pleased. “It’s just you and us now, Georgie. I’m really looking forward to spending a little time with you.” “I shall have to get on with some work,” I said. “I’m not really on holiday, Brenda. But I can work in my room.” “Yes, you’re so clever,” she said. “I’m sure I wouldn’t know how to work that laptop of yours and that mobile phone. I should be quite lost. I don’t understand all this email stuff. My aunt knows a little bit about it. She tried to tell me once, but I really wasn’t interested.” “I didn’t think Miss Stratton was either.” I looked at her in surprise. “Oh, she quite surprises me sometimes,” Brenda said. “I think she wanted Melvin to buy a computer, but he doesn’t like them very much.” “But you’re not interested?” “Oh, I wouldn’t be clever enough,” she said. “My talents don’t lie in that direction, Georgie.” “Well, it wouldn’t do for us all to be alike, would it?” “Oh no,” she said and smiled. “It wouldn’t do at all.” ***** I spent an hour or so, before dinner, working in my room. When I came down I saw Miss Stratton leaving the kitchen. She gave me a very strange look, before moving in the direction of the stairs. “Oh, please don’t go for a moment,” I said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Miss Stratton – are you feeling any better now?” “I have not been unwell,” she said and blinked. “Perhaps a little tired – but I

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assure you there is nothing wrong with me. And if anyone tells you there is they are wrong!” “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” “Why did you come here?” she asked. “It would have been far better if you had never come here…” “What do you mean?” I asked, but her eyes had a strange glazed look about them, and I wasn’t sure she was listening to me. I stared after her in bewilderment as she went on up the stairs. Why didn’t Miss Stratton like me? Was it possible that I had done something to offend her without knowing it? Her behavior made me wonder if she might have some reason to want me dead. Yet I had made up my mind to discard that theory, along with all the others that had occurred to me. April had died at the hand of a jealous fan. It was the most likely explanation and, yet, I had a sudden suspicion that Miss Stratton might be a little dangerous…perhaps a little unstable… ***** We had a wonderful dinner. Brenda had prepared homemade mushroom soup, followed by roast beef and Yorkshire pudding with a light mousse to follow. “That was splendid,” Melvin said, when Brenda brought us coffee afterwards. He had tea instead of the coffee, but Brenda and I drank two cups each. “You know I had intended to visit a friend this evening, but I really don’t feel like going out now. I think I shall retire to my study and write some letters. Perhaps we could have a word before you go to bed, Georgie?” “That was rather a big meal you ate,” I said, teasing him. I had refused the soup because, as I’d explained to Brenda earlier in the day, I had never liked mushrooms. “Oh that’s, such a shame,” she’d told me. “We have them quite often because Melvin is so partial to them. What can I make for you instead? Would you like a seafood cocktail, Georgie?” “I would rather just have a glass of fruit juice,” I’d insisted. “Please don’t go to any trouble for me, Brenda. I shall be quite content with the main course and some of your excellent pudding.” “Yes, I had noticed you don’ teat very much,” she said. “Melvin enjoys his food so…” “Always been a good trencherman,” he replied. “And you spoil me, my dear.” I helped Brenda clear away the dishes after dinner but, once they were stacked into the dishwasher, I left her to seek Melvin out in his study. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about my little project,” he said. “I heard from the bank today, and they are prepared to lend me at least a part of the cash I need.” “That is good news,” I said. “I’ve been wondering how you might feel about a little scheme I have in mind…” “Why don’t you tell me about it?” he invited, gesturing me to sit down

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opposite him. “Would you let me buy the land you were planning to sell as a housing estate?” “You?” He was puzzled. “Why would you want to do that?” “To build a small holiday complex of bungalows – for the use of women and children who have been abused in some way. Or who, in some cases, simply need a holiday and can’t afford to go away themselves. I should like to be able to use the stables and I thought I might be able to arrange something with the farm…animals the children can feed and touch.” He was clearly surprised. “Where would you get the money for all this?” “April left me nearly three million pounds. I think she would have approved of this scheme – particularly for abused women and their children. I know she gave money to a shelter for women once.” Melvin looked thoughtful for a moment, and then inclined his head. “I think it is a splendid idea, particularly if it means you will be visiting us more often?” “I hope to do that anyway,” I said. “So, will you sell the land to me?” “I’ll sell it to you for a hundred thousand pounds.” “Which is the amount you need to settle that claim against your son. It is worth far more than that!” “I want to be a part of this scheme, Georgie. It will run side by side with my own plans to have some holiday cottages to let in the normal way.” “I still think I should pay the true worth of the land,” I said. “But…” A tap at the door interrupted me and Brenda poked her head round. “I do hope I am not intruding? I am about to make a hot drink for my aunt – would either of you like one?” “No thank you,” Melvin said and rubbed at his chest. “I think I’ve already had a little too much this evening.” “Are you feeling unwell?” Brenda asked, looking anxious. “You’ve been doing too much recently, Melvin. You rush about all over the place and never consider your health.” “Fit as a fiddle,” he said and stifled a moan. “I’m sure it’s just indigestion.” “Tell him he should take more care of himself,” Brenda said, looking at me. “He ought not to work so hard.” “Nonsense!” Melvin looked annoyed and Brenda turned away hurriedly, as if sensing that she had irritated him. “I’ll take that drink up to my aunt,” Brenda said and went out. Melvin frowned as the door closed behind her. “She’s a good-hearted sort – but fusses over me too much.” “You’re not ill are you – no suggestion of any heart trouble? I mean this holiday complex will take a certain amount of administration on your part.” “Believe me, I’ve never been better,” he declared stoutly. “It’s just that I eat too much. I can’t resist Brenda’s mushroom soup. Ate too much of it I expect.” “You wouldn’t like me to call the doctor?” “No, I most certainly would not!” “Then I shan’t,” I said. “I try to stay away from them as much as I can.” He chuckled. “Woman after my own heart.”

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“I’m glad we’ve had this talk,” I said. “I accept your offer – if you’re sure you won’t let me pay you any more?” “Wouldn’t hear of it,” he said. “I’ve no one to leave this place to, Georgie. What do I need loads of money sitting in the bank for? I shan’t deny you if you want to invest something in my venture – be a partner?” “Yes, of course I will,” I agreed instantly, as I saw his eager look. I realized he had been a very lonely man and, for some reason, he had taken to me. “I should like that very much.” Instinct made me bend down to touch my lips to his cheek as I said goodnight. “I am so glad we got to know one another.” “So am I, my dear. So am I…” ***** I was woken suddenly in the night by a loud knocking at my door. Before I could open it Brenda came in. She was wearing a long, filmy, rather glamorous nightdress in a shocking pink color, over which she had thrown a rather shabby toweling robe. With her hair loose and ruffled by sleep, she looked attractive and very different from her usual demure rather staid self. “I’m so sorry to wake you,” she said. “But Melvin is unwell. He has been dreadfully sick and I think he is in pain, but he refuses to let me summon the doctor. Would you come and see what you think, Georgie?” “Yes, of course I will.” I was wearing nothing but a pair of scanty panties as I threw back the covers. Brenda turned her back hastily, as she realized I was half-naked and I reached for my own dressing gown. “I think he is being sick again…” She said in a muffled tone and rushed out of the room. I followed her down the hall to the bathroom. Melvin was just emerging looking rather pale and extremely unwell. “Are you in pain?” I asked as he clutched at his chest. He nodded but didn’t answer so I turned to Brenda. “You should phone for the doctor now.” “No… really,” he protested but then his face contorted with agony again and he half stumbled. “So foolish…bound to be over-indulgence.” “Let me help you,” I said, putting an arm about his waist. “You should sit up against your pillows. Rest if you can. I’m sure the doctor will be here soon.” “Sorry to be a trouble to everyone…” “You aren’t,” I said. “Just relax as much as you can.” He was sweating and clutching at his arm, obviously suffering a severe attack of something. I’d had no experience of these things, but it looked suspiciously like a heart attack to me. Once he was back in his room, he lay reclining against the pillows I’d arranged for him, his eyes closed. Brenda came to the door of the room, looking pale and anxious. “How is he?” she mouthed at me and I shook my head. She was clearly very upset and seemed afraid to come into the room. The

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moment the front doorbell rang, she scuttled away like a scared rabbit. She was obviously terrified that Melvin was going to die. “How long has this been going on?” the doctor asked after he had examined Sir Melvin. “After you came to bed or earlier?” “I had some pain earlier in the evening, but it suddenly came on much worse,” Melvin said. “All this fuss for nothing. I’m sure it’s just indigestion.” “It may be,” the doctor agreed, “but your symptoms are similar to those I would expect from someone who had suffered a mild heart attack. I think we’ll send you to the hospital just in case.” “I told you to take more care of yourself,” Brenda said and was silenced by a black look from Melvin. “Is that really necessary?” he asked of the doctor, and then gasped and went a little blue around the mouth. “Damn…” “Yes, I am afraid it is necessary, sir. I’ll arrange for an ambulance straight away.” ***** The journey to the Norfolk and Norwich Hospital seemed to take forever, though in reality we made good time. Sir Melvin’s sudden illness had stunned me. He had appeared to be such a fit, healthy man. But, of course, something like this could happen to anyone regardless of age. Brenda had decided not to come in the ambulance with us, partly because Melvin had made it quite clear that it was me he wanted to accompany him to the hospital. “You go,” she said, her eyes avoiding mine. “I’ll come along later.” “You have your aunt to think of,” I said trying to ease the distress she was obviously suffering. “Besides, they won’t let either of us be with him for a while. It’s only a matter of sitting and waiting to hear what they have to say.” She nodded, but didn’t say anything more. I felt guilty, because I suspected that Brenda had been nursing hopes that Melvin would ask her to marry him one day, and she must feel that I had usurped her place in his affections. I should have to talk to her later and tell her that it wasn’t so. Melvin wanted nothing from me but friendship. It was an anxious time when we reached the Emergency Unit at the hospital. Melvin’s condition seemed to have worsened during the journey and the crash team rushed him away out of my sight. I sat in the corridor and waited. About an hour later, Brenda joined me. She looked terrible and I felt sympathy for her. She obviously cared for Melvin very much. “Have they told you anything yet?” she asked. “No, not yet. Has he ever had anything like this before?” She bit her lip. “No, I don’t think so…” A nurse came out of a side ward and looked in our direction. “Are you with Sir Melvin Gutteridge? He is stabilized now, but under sedation. There really isn’t any point in both of you sitting here. One of you may

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visit Sir Melvin for a few minutes, but he may not be aware that you are there.” “You go,” Brenda said. “I’ll just sit here and wait.” “Are you sure?” “Yes, it’s you he will want to see,” she said and gave me a sad smile. “You should go, Georgie. I’ll see him another time – but I’ll wait and drive you back to the house.” I thanked her and then followed the nurse to the little side ward. Sir Melvin was lying propped up against some pillows, and there was an intravenous drip feeding into his arm; his eyes were closed, his face pale and drawn. I went to sit by the bed and, for a moment, his eyes flicked open and he seemed to be aware of me. His fingers moved and I reached for his hand, holding it carefully. “It’s all right,” I said. “Everything will be fine now.” He seemed to smile, but then his eyes closed and I knew the sedative was taking effect. I bent down to kiss his forehead, before going back outside. One of the doctors was talking to Brenda. I went up to them. “Do you know what was wrong?” I asked the doctor. “I’m not certain,” he said and frowned. “Are you a relation?” “No – just a friend. I’m Georgie Langley. Sir Melvin seemed to have a mild heart attack and I came with him in the ambulance.” “Yes, the symptoms did indicate a heart attack,” he said. “I’m not prepared to say more until we’ve done further tests.” “Does that mean you will be keeping him for a while?” “Yes, for a few days.” He smiled at me. “I don’t think you need to be too anxious, Miss Langley. Your friend is not in any immediate danger.” “Oh, that is a relief,” Brenda said. “Isn’t it, Georgie? We were so worried.” “Yes, these kind of attacks are always nasty,” he said. “Hopefully we shall have some results in a few days.” “What a nice man,” Brenda remarked as he walked away. “Shall we go, Georgie? We can visit again tomorrow – and I’m a little worried about leaving my aunt alone. She was very distressed and confused when I told her Melvin had been rushed to hospital.” “Yes, we should get back. Melvin is sleeping now. We can visit him tomorrow.” ***** I rang Steve at half past eight that morning and told him the news. He was shocked. “I wouldn’t have expected him to have something like that,” he said. “Are you sure it was a heart attack, Georgie?” “No, I’m only telling you what his own doctor said when he sent him into hospital. The hospital doctor wasn’t sure and they are doing some tests…” He sensed the hesitancy in my voice. “What’s wrong, Georgie? Something is worrying you.” “I’m just being silly…” “Tell me!”

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“It’s just that I seem to be a walking disaster area recently. I send April to stay at a cottage that was meant for me, and she is murdered. My aunt dies of a heart attack and now…” “Now you are being foolish,” Steve said. “Your aunt’s death and Sir Melvin’s attack are not related, though I’m still a bit worried about you. I don’t like the thought of you being in that house alone.” “I’m not alone, Steve. Brenda is here.” “Why don’t you come back to London?” “I shall soon,” I promised. “But I couldn’t leave while Melvin is like this. But you could come down if you wanted…” “It isn’t possible at the moment,” he said. “Is there anything you want me to do for you here?” “You could see if there is any mail for me at the apartment.” “Yes, all right. I’ll do that,” he promised. “And I might come down this weekend if I can.” “Thanks Steve.” ***** For me, the next couple of days were divided between visiting the hospital and working in my room. Brenda and I took it in turns to visit Melvin, and we were both very relieved when he showed signs of making a rapid recovery. I had hardly seen Miss Stratton. Brenda told me her aunt was unwell again, and keeping to her bed. Late one evening, I heard the sound of raised voices as I was working at my computer but, when I went out to investigate, I saw Brenda coming from Miss Stratton’s room carrying an empty mug. “Aunt Mary was having a bad dream,” she said. “I hope she didn’t wake you?” “I wasn’t asleep. I often work late.” “You work far too hard,” Brenda scolded. “My aunt is just the same. She was worrying herself, in case she hadn’t done something Sir Melvin asked her to do before he was taken ill.” “She really ought to see the doctor.” “It’s Melvin’s illness coming on top of everything else. She seems not to be able to cope…” “I’m so sorry. It’s such a worry for you.” Brenda herself had been very subdued for a while but, after the doctors told us Melvin would be able to come home on the Friday, she recovered her spirits. “I was afraid he might die,” she confided to me. “It was such a shock, Georgie.” “Yes, it must have been,” I said and smiled at her. “I believe you are very fond of him?” “Oh, there is nothing between us,” she said and blushed. “But yes, I do care about him.” “He has been very kind to me,” I said. “I can’t say too much yet, Brenda, but I think we are going to be partners in a little business venture.”

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“Oh but surely… after this…” She bit her lip. “Don’t you think he ought to take things more easily?” “Well, perhaps for a while…” I didn’t contradict her, but I doubted that Melvin would be prepared to sit at home in an armchair merely because he’d had an unpleasant experience. He was certainly determined to carry on as usual when I fetched him home from the hospital on the Friday afternoon. I had spoken to the young doctor, who had told me they were doing tests, before collecting Melvin, and I found what he had to say a little disturbing. “We still don’t know what caused his illness,” he told me. “It appeared to be a heart attack, many of the signs were there – but his heart is perfectly sound. I am having more tests done, Miss Langley, but I can say no more until the results are in. A report will be sent to Sir Melvin when we have more idea about what caused this condition …although…” “Yes?” “It’s just something niggling at the back of my mind…I wonder what he had for supper that evening?” “Mushroom soup followed by a roast dinner.” “M’mm…” He nodded and I noticed an odd gleam in his eyes. “Well, perhaps he should stick to a light diet for a while? It may have been just over indulgence at the table, but we’ll see.” “I’ll try to make sure he does. At least for a while.” Melvin was looking well when I went in to tell him we had been given permission to leave. After a nasty attack like that, it would take time to feel confident again, but the doctors did not consider he needed to be on medication. “All they’ve told me is to watch what I eat and take plenty of exercise,” he said. “I think I’ve been very lucky, Georgie.” “Yes, you have. We were all very worried about you.” “I’m afraid you’ve given up a lot of your time to run after me.” “I wanted to be here. I shall have to go back soon, but I’ve been keeping busy and making plans. I’ve decided I’m going to sell my own apartment and April’s and buy something a little larger than the one I have at present. It will give me an extra room so that I can have friends to stay sometimes. I’ve also decided that I would like to spend more time at Whitney – if that is all right with you?” “You know nothing would please me more.” He smiled and touched my hand. “I have become rather fond of you, Georgie – just in a friendly way, of course.” Brenda had everything ready for us when we reached Whitney. The house was scrupulously clean and there were flowers in every room. She kissed both of us on the cheek. “I’m glad you got here before it rained,” she said. “I’m sure there’s going to be a storm later.” “Yes, you may be right, the air is a bit oppressive,” I said and looked at Melvin. “Perhaps you should go straight up and rest? The doctor said you needed to rest for a while.” “I’m quite well again now,” he said. “I shall just sit quietly in my study for an

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hour or two.” “Of course you are well. You just need looking after.” I glanced at Brenda. “And not too much rich food. The hospital said a light diet.” She nodded, but I sensed a faint resentment, and knew it was because I was indirectly suggesting that her cooking might have been the cause of his illness. I did not want to offend her, but the doctor at the hospital had stressed that Melvin should be careful about his food. As I went upstairs, I met Miss Stratton on the landing. She was looking rather pale and withdrawn. “Ah, Miss Langley. You’ve brought Sir Melvin home? I trust he is feeling better?” “Yes, thank you. He is resting in his study now and I’m sure he will be pleased to see you. How are you, Miss Stratton?” “I am perfectly well, thank you.” Her frowning look seemed to say that she did not wish for sympathy from me. “I understand you are going to stay with us for a time?” “Yes, for a few days. Until I am sure Sir Melvin is better.” She frowned and I sensed her disapproval. “Yes, well, we must hope there is no reoccurrence of his illness.” “Yes, we must.” I was about to go past her when she laid her hand on my arm. “You should be very careful, Miss Langley. Stay away from the woods and…” “What do you mean? Why do I need to be careful?” She was looking very strange and her words had sent a shiver down my spine. She blinked, then shook her head. “It is nothing to do with me. You must do as you please of course.” She walked away, leaving me to stare after her in dismay. Just what was that supposed to mean? One moment she appeared to be warning me of something, the next she had withdrawn, her manner becoming abrupt and dismissive. Was that what had worried Brenda so much about her aunt? It seemed to me that Miss Stratton’s manner was a little odd to say the least. I had seen strange behavior before, when Aunt Jane had first started to be ill, periods of intense anxiety, and others of withdrawal. It would be a terrible thing if Miss Stratton was also beginning to suffer the effects of Alzheimer’s. I did hope I was wrong – but she certainly wasn’t the woman I had first spoken to on the phone. What could have happened to make her change so dramatically? ***** Steve rang me that evening. He told me that he had collected some packages for me from my apartment building and would bring them down on Sunday. “I shall come just for the day – if that’s all right?” “That would be lovely, Steve.” “What’s bothering you?” he asked. “You’re not still thinking you’re a bad luck charm?” “No – it’s Miss Stratton. She’s odd, Steve…”

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“What do you mean?” I told him that she had warned me to stay clear of the woods. “I’m not sure whether it was a warning or a threat. I don’t think she likes me staying here. She doesn’t approve of my friendship with Melvin.” “What makes you say that?” “Oh… just the odd way she looks at me sometimes. She watches me, Steve. I turn round and she’s there… looking at me…” “Yes, I agree she’s a bit odd,” Steve said. “Why do you think I’ve been telling you not to stay there?” “You think she… No, you can’t! She is odd but not a murderess…” “Just remember there is a killer out there somewhere,” he said. “I’m not saying Miss Stratton killed your sister – but someone did, and you know I’ve always felt it had more to do with you than April herself.” “Don’t!” His warning was sending shivers down my spine. “I spoke to Harry Thorpe this morning. He told me that local chap they arrested is in the clear. He might be charged with selling stolen property, but they’ve let him go for the moment. Just be careful, Georgie.” “I was sure he hadn’t done it. Do you think they would let me have April’s things now? I should like to check something out on her laptop.” “They might, if they’ve finished with it – why?” “Oh, I don’t know. I just thought I might find something in her files the police had missed.” “Give Harry a ring and ask him.” “Yes, perhaps I will,” I said. “But I don’t suppose it’s important.” ***** Harry Thorpe read the contents of his letter again, checking it against the copy of the birth certificate he had obtained from Somerset House. The information he’d received was quite startling. It had been easier than he’d imagined tracing Janice Creek’s daughter. The clues he’d been given had set him off on what looked like a wild flight of imagination, but had led him to the truth much more quickly than he had expected. The trouble was, that now he had the information he’d been seeking, he was at a loss to know what to do about it. Did Belinda Creek know who she was? And if she did, what bearing did it have on the murder of April Langley? Ought he to have a word with her? His hand hovered over the telephone, but even as he hesitated the door of his office opened and Sergeant Bryne came in. “Yes, Bryne, what is it?” “Miss Georgie Langley was on the phone, sir. She wants to know if she can collect her sister’s laptop.” “What did you tell her?” “I said I would ask you, sir.” “Right.” Harry nodded. “I’ll think about it, Bryne. Leave it with me.” Harry frowned as his sergeant went out. So Miss Langley wanted her sister’s

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laptop did she? Maybe he would go and see her. Perhaps he would make an appointment after the weekend…

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN Melvin and I spent the evening playing chess in his study. I was a mere amateur compared to him, but played well enough to amuse him for a while. Brenda had chosen to watch TV in the other room, and Miss Stratton had retired after dinner, claiming she was tired. I decided to have a word with Brenda, before I went up that evening. She frowned as I asked her how long her aunt had been the way she was and looked anxious when I said that Aunt Jane’s symptoms had been similar in the early stages. “Oh, no, don’t say it,” she pleaded. “I really couldn’t bear it if my poor aunt had to be shut away for her own good. It’s so sad, isn’t it? To see them all just sitting there looking lost … and no one who really cares what becomes of them.” “Have you had some experience of senility before this?” I looked at her in surprise. “Oh, no… no. I was just saying … I’ve seen things on television, of course.” “Yes, I suppose we all have. But it always seems different when it happens to someone you love. There’s nothing much you can do, except cope and be as kind as possible.” “Yes, I suppose so,” she agreed. She looked at me thoughtfully. “You seem different now, Georgie. More sure of yourself than you were the last time you were down.” “I was vulnerable for a while, after my sister was murdered,” I replied. “But I’m pretty tough, Brenda. It would take a lot to make me crack.” “That’s good,” she said. “I was very worried about you as you know – and I asked Muriel to call and see you one day soon. But if you don’t want to see her…” “That is your clairvoyant friend? Oh, I wouldn’t mind having a chat to her, Brenda. The police don’t seem to be getting anywhere with tracing April’s killers – and my theories have all been disproved – so perhaps Muriel could help me. It couldn’t hurt to try – could it?” A look of surprise and satisfaction had come into Brenda’s eyes. “I think it would help you,” she said. “You are already so much better, but Muriel has been worried about you – she thinks you are in some kind of danger. She says she needs to see you, before she can be sure what it is that threatens you.” “Then I certainly ought to see your friend,” I said and kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, Brenda. It’s nice to know I have a good friend in you.” I smiled at her and ran on up the stairs. Before getting ready for bed, I sent an email to Steve. There was some special research I wanted him to do for me, and I carried out a little research myself. I had several information discs which I slipped into my computer one after the other, and then connected to the Internet through my mobile to check up on a couple more things, which seemed to back up an idea that was beginning to form in my mind. I lay in bed thinking for some time afterwards. I hadn’t yet discovered all the facts I needed so far, but I’d found a few leads for further research. An idea had begun to form in my head that was so unlikely and preposterous that I would normally have dismissed it out of hand. I’d taken so many wrong turnings, come up

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with such wild theories – and this could be just another. And yet, I had an odd tingling sensation at the base of my neck, and I was beginning to see where my thoughts might be leading. I drank the tea Brenda had brought up to me a little earlier, and went to sleep. ***** There was blood on her hair, on her face and hands, the smell of it making her wild with fear. She had crawled over her mother’s lifeless body as she lay in a pool of blood, kissing her, pulling at her as she tried to wake her. “Mummy…Mummy, wake up!” The child had witnessed the terrible struggle between the man and her mother from behind the settee. She and Mummy had been out for a walk, discovering the intruder on their return. She hadn’t understood as her mother demanded to know what was going on. As the fight started, she had crept behind the sheltering back of the big settee, coming out only after the man had gone. He was a horrible man, a stranger to her with a harsh voice and a rough appearance. Why had he hurt her mummy? And why wouldn’t her mummy wake up? ***** I woke from the nightmare, shivering with horror. It had been so real and, for a while, I had felt as if I were that child. Now that I was awake I knew that it was a dream. I must have been thinking about the murder of Janice Creek just before I slept, and that was the result. In my dream, someone had broken into the cottage to steal the silver and jewelry Sir Melvin had given to Janice Creek. It was all so clear! Her jewelry box lying open on the floor and the child watching from behind the sofa, and then, when the man had gone, crawling out to try and waken her mother. Dreams were strange things, so real but often distorted. They didn’t usually trouble me and I wondered why I should have had this one – and such a clear picture. It was as if I had been there, a witness to the murder… but that wasn’t possible! It was early yet, but I was wide-awake and did not feel like trying to go back to sleep. I got up and went to take a shower, before dressing and finding my way downstairs. Melvin had shown me how to switch off the alarm so that I wouldn’t rouse the household if I wanted to take a walk. I clicked in the numbers and slipped out through the back door. It was quite cool, because the sun had not yet risen, but I had put on a couple of thick sweaters to keep myself warm. I was hyper-active, filled with a restless energy, and I needed to think. In London, I enjoyed going for an occasional run before anyone was about, although I hadn’t done it since April’s murder and I had missed it, missed the feeling of freedom it gave me to be out early. The city seemed to be quite different in the early hours. I had watched men cleaning the London Eye, one morning, and was 152

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amazed as I saw someone abseiling down the great wheel. It gave you a strange feeling to be a part of that other world, which the public seldom saw. There was the same kind of feeling that morning as I left Melvin’s house. Everywhere was so still and quiet though, deep in the woods, I could hear the birds beginning to call to one another. I started to walk towards the woods, a sense of peace had come over me and I had no fear of danger. In fact I seemed to be floating on a high that morning for some reason. It was actually rather an odd feeling, as if nothing was quite real. It was almost as if no one else was alive. I was alone and the sense of freedom was wonderful, giving me space to think, as I never could have done in the house. Why had I dreamed about the old murder? Was it somehow linked to the murders of April and Juan after all? In dreams pictures and facts were distorted and confused, but sometimes they contained a grain of truth. I remembered bits of the research I’d done the previous evening. I had been searching for certain drugs and their side effects – and I recalled seeing something about drugs that could cause hallucinations. Had my dream been a hallucination? Drugs could often release thoughts and emotions that had been kept locked away… My thoughts were rudely interrupted as I heard a cracking sound behind me. I was no longer alone! Someone was following me. I felt a prickle of fear down my spine as I spun round… to find myself face to face with a man. My heart caught with fright and, for a moment, I was tempted to run. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk to you,” he said, sensing my unease. “It was your sister and her husband what were murdered the other week – weren’t it?” “Yes.” The panic was easing as I looked at him and realized he wasn’t dangerous. “Where did you find the laptop, Greg? You were near the cottage that morning and you saw something – Juan’s body lying in the open doorway, was that it? Did you go in – did you take the laptop? You told Inspector Thorpe you’d found it, didn’t you?” “I didn’t steal it - it was under a bush near the ruin,” he replied. “Rose saw someone hide it there and she told me. When I saw what it was – complete in its carrying case and expensive - I couldn’t resist taking it. I knew it must be worth a lot of money and I took it and sold it. We needed the money. If I’d known it was your sister’s I wouldn’t have taken it. You brought those things for the baby, didn’t you? Rose was grateful, miss.” “Good. I’m glad she was pleased.” I looked at him uncertainly. “Does Rose know who put the laptop under the bush?” “She said it was a woman – but she only saw the back of her as she bent down and she wasn’t sure.” He shuffled his feet nervously. “I didn’t tell Inspector Thorpe that, because we don’t want no more trouble.” “Why should that cause trouble for you?” His eyes shied away from mine. “I don’t know no more. I only told you that, because you helped Rose. I wanted you to know…” I saw anxiety in his eyes. I thought that perhaps he might want to tell me more but was frightened. “If you know more you should tell the police, Greg.” He was shaking his head, beginning to back away and I sensed he was very

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nervous about something – or someone. “You don’t want to go walking alone here, miss. It might be dangerous for you.” “What do you mean?” I called but he was running away. Greg knew more than he was saying! For some reason he was frightened of speaking out – why? What had Rose seen that had made them afraid to tell the police the whole truth? Or was it something Greg had seen – perhaps on the morning that April and Juan were shot? It seemed likely that he was often out early in the mornings. This morning wouldn’t be the exception. He hadn’t been expecting to see me, but had seized his chance to speak to me alone. He probably took game from Sir Melvin’s estate to live on. Melvin might even be aware of it. He had allowed them to squat in the ruin, and was obviously prepared to give Greg work from time to time. Was Greg afraid of saying something that might upset Sir Melvin – or someone else up at the house? ***** If Rose was right and a woman had hidden the laptop – then a woman could have taken it from the cottage on the night April was killed. Did that also mean a woman might have killed my sister and her husband? At the beginning I had dismissed the idea, yet now it was beginning to seem more and more likely. A woman had taken Aunt Jane from the nursing home and abandoned her, and a woman could quite easily have sent those emails. A woman could also have stolen a van and knocked Teddy Husk down that fateful evening. I was beginning to believe I might know who that woman was, and if my shocking theory was correct she was very dangerous. Her mind must be unhinged; she must be completely ruthless and determined to have her own way, so determined that she was ready to kill and kill again. Yet so many questions remained unanswered. Why take the computer in the first place? Curiosity perhaps. Had she wanted to know more about her victims? Or had she taken it to sell? Why abandon it near the ruin? That one was easier; it was probably intended to bring suspicion on Greg, and it had – for a while. Inspector Thorpe was, however, not as stupid as some people might imagine and he had let Greg go – was convinced of his innocence. Aunt Jane’s abduction had been carried out to cause me distress, and the emails were sent for the same purpose. Had her death been a natural one as everyone had assumed? The thought that it might not have been appalled me. She had not been a threat to anyone. If she had been harmed it was because someone wanted to punish me. Perhaps that someone had thought I might crack under the strain? I alternated between anger and grief. Why didn’t she just kill me? Or would that be too obvious? Would it make the police too suspicious if I were to suffer the same fate as my sister? If my most recent theory was on the right track, April had been killed in

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mistake for me. That was the most painful consequence of all this. It meant that I had sent my beloved sister to her death. I mustn’t dwell on that part of it! I could not have known that an evil person was preparing to kill me. I wasn’t responsible for what had happened – although, if I was right this time, it was because she had pretended to be me when she picked up the key to the cottage. I could be wrong again, of course. I had been wrong several times before. What I still didn’t understand was why my death was so desirable to the murderer? I could not think of a reason…unless…? Supposing the murderer knew something I didn’t – something that might be a threat to her? I shook my head as the thoughts rushed in, confusing me. There were so many ifs and buts, and I had no proof of anything… just a feeling, a tingling at the nape of my neck. I was very unsure about many things. I had no proof that the person I suspected was guilty of anything, but, perhaps, Steve would come up with something? If my suspect had done the things I was beginning to believe her capable of, she could have killed me before this if she wished. The thought sent shivers down my spine. Steve had had his own suspicions. Now that I’d given him something to go on, he would keep digging until he found the answers. Until then, I would have to be vigilant – for others as well as myself. ***** Brenda was preparing breakfast when I went into the kitchen. She looked at me sympathetically. “Couldn’t you sleep, Georgie?” “I had a very unpleasant dream.” “Oh, I’m so sorry. Perhaps it was that cheese soufflé,” she said. “Cheese does affect some people that way. I must remember not to give you anything like that for dinner – but I thought it would be nice and light for Melvin. I am trying to think of tasty food that won’t be too full of calories.” “I think it’s just a question of his not eating too much,” I said. “But a few healthy salads wouldn’t come amiss.” She pulled a face. “Men don’t like salads, do they? My father called them rabbit’s food. He was most unpleasant to my mother when she tried to give him anything other than a proper cooked meal – but then, he wasn’t a nice man at all.” “Is your father still alive, Brenda?” “Oh no, he died of a heart attack when I was sixteen,” she said and smiled serenely. “It was just Mum and me after that – unfortunately, she wasn’t as well as she might have been. She’d had a hard life. There was never very much money. My father gambled and drank, you see. He was a very selfish man.” “I’m very sorry, Brenda. That must have been hard for you and your mother.” “Yes, it was,” she said. “I often used to wish that I could run away – to a place like this. I sometimes visited my aunt, and I hated going home afterwards. That’s why…” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m so worried about her, Georgie. “I think … no, I can’t say it. I mustn’t say it.”

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“What do you think, Brenda?” I looked at her intently. “I know Miss Stratton isn’t well, but what is worrying you so dreadfully?” “I think you may be right about her losing her mind,” Brenda said, glancing over her shoulder as if fearful that her aunt might hear. “And that’s not all … but no, I can’t tell you. It’s too awful and I must be wrong! I must be.” “I think you should tell me if something is worrying you that much,” I said. “It may not be as bad as you think, Brenda.” “Yes, it is,” she said. “If I am right… she may have done…” She broke off, looking flustered and guilty as Miss Stratton came into the kitchen. “Brenda, I want to know what you’ve done with my…” Miss Stratton looked at me and a wary expression came into her eyes. “Miss Langley. Did you enjoy your walk this morning. You went out very early.” “Yes, I enjoyed the feeling of being out when no one else was about, thank you. I hope I didn’t disturb you when I left the house? “Oh, no, I am often awake early. I see much more then – more than some people imagine. I am not quite senile, Miss Langley.” “Oh, Auntie,” Brenda said reproachfully. “No one thinks that, of course they don’t. It’s just that you haven’t been quite yourself recently. What were you looking for dear?” “The letter I typed for Sir Melvin yesterday afternoon. I left it on my desk and now it has vanished.” “Are you sure you actually typed it?” Brenda asked hesitantly. She shot me an embarrassed look. “You’ve been a bit forgetful, Auntie.” “I am well aware that I have not been well, but that does not make me an imbecile.” “Excuse me.” I left them to their argument. If Miss Stratton was as ill as I thought she might be, she was best treated carefully – but it was not for me to interfere. Besides, I had other things on my mind. I wanted to see if Steve had replied to my email. He would not have had time to do the research I had requested yet, of course, but it would be a relief just to see what he had made of my suggestion. My mobile phone was not on the dressing table where I had expected to find it. Surely I had left it there the previous evening after I’d finished using it? I wasn’t sure if I had noticed it that morning before I went out – but it must have been there! It was too early for the cleaner to have been into my room; she didn’t come until later. Could I have put it away somewhere? I had no memory of doing so, but I might have. Come to think of it, I had been feeling a little light-headed before I went out for my walk – more laid back and careless than usual. I made a thorough search of my room and my belongings. Nothing else was missing, but there was no sign of my phone, which was a nuisance because I relied on it for so many things. I could still access the Internet with my small laptop, using the phone point in Melvin’s study, but that wasn’t ideal as I liked to work at night in my room. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a phone point in my bedroom, and I might have to ask for one to be installed if I was going to stay often.

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Of course, I could have left my mobile downstairs. I asked Brenda when I went into the breakfast room a little later. “No, I haven’t seen your mobile, Georgie,” she said and looked upset. “It was in your room, wasn’t it? I thought you were using it when I brought you your tea last night? I wouldn’t dare touch it. I’ve never used one of those things – they are so expensive to run, aren’t they?” “I suppose so,” I replied, “but I need it for work. The charges are set against my tax liability at the end of the year.” “You earn a lot of money writing for magazines I suppose. I would never be clever enough to do something like that.” “What did you do before you came here, Brenda?” “Oh, I worked as a housekeeper part time,” she said. “It wasn’t as nice as being here though.” “You keep the house so well. I am sure Melvin couldn’t do without you.” “I do try to please,” she said and tears welled up in her eyes again. “Auntie was so cross with me earlier, Georgie – and I’m so worried. I just don’t know what to do.” “She seemed a little better to me,” I said. “But that can often be the case I believe – if there is some sort of mental disorder.” “I think… she may have had a mental blackout,” Brenda said. “It is the only explanation for what she… she must have been temporarily out of her mind. I can’t believe she meant to do it…” “Do what, Brenda? Don’t you think you should tell me?” “I can’t. I just can’t,” she said. “It’s too terrible. Especially if it’s true that she…” I was about to press her for more details when Melvin and Miss Stratton walked in together. “You should have got on with your breakfast,” he said. “I’ve kept you waiting.” “You shouldn’t have got up at all,” Brenda said, pulling out a chair for him. She was like a hen fussing over her chick. “I would have brought a tray up – I told you so when I brought your tea earlier.” “You mustn’t worry over me,” he told her kindly. “I am not an invalid, my dear. Whatever was wrong with me has cleared up. I’m inclined to think it was just something I ate – or probably too much of it. So I shall just have some toast and marmalade this morning. Give the fried breakfast a miss for the time being.” “Yes, that’s what I’m going to have,” I agreed. “And I think a salad would be a good idea at lunchtime. We could have jacket potatoes with it if you fancy something warm.” “That sounds like sensible advice,” he said and smiled at me. “I love Brenda’s rich sauces – especially that mushroom sauce you do so well, my dear – but perhaps I ought to avoid them for a while.” Brenda didn’t answer. She seemed a little subdued and I noticed that she glanced nervously at her aunt several times. She seemed almost afraid of what Miss Stratton might say or do. What was Brenda so worried about? Did she think that Miss Stratton might

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say or do something that would betray the terrible secret she had hinted at earlier? Her words had convinced me that my suspicions were correct. Miss Stratton was ill – very ill indeed! “So what are you going to do today?” Melvin asked, looking at me across the breakfast table. “Have you made plans – or shall we take a drive down to the farm? You could talk to Bill Jones, see how he feels about having the children’s corner on his farm. We’ve got plenty of room to make one ourselves if he doesn’t agree, of course – but it would be rather nice for it to be situated on a working farm.” “I should like to do that,” I said. “Mr. Jones might have some advice for us about what kind of animals we ought to have – and we shall need some ponies for the children to ride. He might tell us the best place to buy them and what to look for regards size and temperament.” Brenda looked at us. “Is this a part of the scheme I heard you talking about?” “Yes.” He nodded happily. “It was Georgie’s idea, Brenda, and I think rather a splendid one. Instead of selling that bit of land for a housing estate we’re going to build some holiday cottages – for the use of abused women and children. You explain what you mean, Georgie.” “April left me some money,” I said. “I want to use it to help women who have violent husbands. There are already shelters where they can sometimes take refuge with their children – but it isn’t much of a life for them. I want to give them a holiday. Whitney is such a beautiful place, and there is so much potential here – riding stables and the farm, besides those lovely old woods. For children who have lived under the shadow of an abusive father – well, I think it would show them another way of life.” “And I’ve decided to offer the same sort of holiday to paying guests,” Melvin said. “It will help to keep the estate going.” “But, if you sold the land to a developer, you wouldn’t have a financial problem,” Brenda said. “Won’t it bring a lot of noisy children here? Spoil things…” “It will liven us all up,” he replied. “We might run a little shop for the holidaymakers – just farm produce. You might want to bake some cakes for us, Brenda. I’m sure people would love to buy those. I wouldn’t mind running the shop for a couple of hours in the mornings. I think it might be fun. We’ve been a bit isolated out here. It will do us good to see more people, and, if it is a success, we may come up with other attractions. Nothing too theme-parkish but things that will blend in with the surroundings.” “I think you might find it all rather a worry,” Brenda said. “And with your health so precarious…but of course it is your business…” “It sounds like a worthwhile project to me,” Miss Stratton said, surprising us all. “Women need to be protected from abusive men.” “Oh, Auntie,” Brenda said. “What do you know of such things?” “More than you perhaps,” Miss Stratton replied. Her expression remained distant, but I sensed she was upset about something. Brenda really ought to try not to upset her! She was clearly not herself. She pushed her chair back from the table. “Since the letter I typed yesterday has disappeared, I am going to do it again. Excuse me.” There was an uncomfortable silence as she walked from the room, and then

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Melvin cleared his throat. “Miss Stratton hasn’t been quite herself recently, Brenda. Do you think we should ask the doctor to take a look at her?” “She won’t see him. I have tried. Oh dear! I don’t know what to do.” She burst into tears and fled from the room. Melvin looked at me in concern. “I seem to have made things worse – but I have been a little concerned for Miss Stratton these past few weeks.” “She has been unwell, ever since I came down the first time – hasn’t she?” “Yes – upset, you know. All that business with the police and that reporter fellow. We had a terrible time of it when my son was killed, and when Janice was murdered. Miss Stratton was a tower of strength on both occasions. She shielded me like a tigress protecting her cub – but this time… she seems to have gone to pieces. I suppose she is getting older, but this isn’t like her.” “She was with you when Janice was murdered? I didn’t realize that,” I said and was thoughtful. “Yes. Stood by me through it all. I heard her telling Inspector Thorpe he was a fool one day.” He laughed at the memory. “Told him he was a drunken sot who couldn’t see further than the end of his nose.” “You must have relied on her a great deal over the years?” “Miss Stratton has always been there,” he said. “I trusted her completely. She knew that Belinda was my daughter of course – but she never gave any opinion either way.” “Did she know that you tried to trace Belinda?” “She helped me to contact the adoption society. In fact she dealt with all the details for me. She tried very hard, but they wouldn’t tell us anything,” he said. “I know she seems to be cold and correct, but that is just her way. I believe she had an unhappy life before she came here. Not that she told me anything. She keeps things close to her chest, always has. Her references were very good, although I never actually checked them out. I didn’t need to, she was the perfect secretary. Didn’t like her brother though. I only met him once – not my type. A hard, selfish man, that’s why I was asked if Brenda could come and stay here sometimes. Miss Stratton felt sorry for the girl – and now I’ve been repaid.” “Yes,” I said thoughtfully. “Brenda told me she didn’t get on too well with her father – and that she loved coming here as a child.” “He kept Brenda and her mother short of money I believe. Spent most of it on himself. It was a relief to them when he died I expect. Brenda was devastated when her mother died, of course – I suppose that’s why I offered her the job.” “Yes. Mrs. Stratton’s death was a road accident, wasn’t it?” “A hit and run driver,” he said. “The police traced him and he was found guilty of dangerous driving. They took his license away and he was given a six month suspended sentence.” “Hardly enough for taking someone’s life, is it?” “No – but the odd thing is that he died a few months after the court case. Of a heart attack I believe.” “A heart attack? He wasn’t the victim of a road accident then?” “No – why do you ask?” He looked surprised and I knew it was too soon to

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speak of what was in my mind. Besides, I was still trying to find all the pieces. “Oh, I’m not sure. I just wondered…” Brenda came back into the dining room. She was blowing her nose and I saw that she had my mobile phone in her hands – or what was left of it. “I found this in the rubbish bin,” she said. “It looks as if it has been broken. I am not sure if it is useable now?” “I doubt it – it looks as if someone hit it with a hammer.” “I think it must have fallen on the floor and been trodden on,” she said, giving me a guilty glance. “I am very sorry, Georgie. I don’t know how it could have happened.” “Never mind,” I said. “Accidents do happen. I’m just going up to my room to get ready – then we’ll go for that drive, Melvin.” “Yes. When you’re ready, Georgie.” He was clearly puzzled over the phone and he asked me about it when we were alone in the car. “What was all that over your phone, Georgie?” “I couldn’t find it this morning. I asked Brenda if she’d seen it – but she hadn’t at that time.” “How could it have happened? It would need to have been trodden on hard to do that amount of damage…” He frowned. “I don’t understand this – did someone damage your phone deliberately?” “I don’t know. It’s possible.” “But why? Who? If Brenda found it…” He looked at me in concern. “That only leaves Miss Stratton, doesn’t it?” “It looks that way,” I said. “I don’t know why anyone would do it deliberately – unless it was to stop me using it. I was expecting Steve to email me.” “I don’t know much about these things – can’t see how they work. Although I did speak to Miss Stratton about it once…” “They are rather marvelous inventions, especially my new one,” I said and laughed. “But I can’t tell you how they work, just that I use mine all the time. I can access my email on my other computer, but I’ll need to plug it into your phone point in the study, which will mean you won’t be able to use your phone for a while.” “Feel free to use it whenever you wish, Georgie.” “Thank you. I’ll ring Steve when we get back. It’s not that important. I can easily get a new mobile in Norwich tomorrow.” “Yes, of course you can,” he said, and looked relieved. “I expect it was just an unfortunate accident.” I didn’t disagree, though I believed there was a more sinister reason for the destruction of my mobile. I was being warned. ***** We spent an enjoyable morning visiting the farm. Bill Jones was a tall, loose limbed man with an air of vitality and easygoing manners. He looked as if he enjoyed life, and I found him both likeable and attractive as a person. “I think it’s a wonderful idea,” he said. “And I’ll be glad to supply produce

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when you get your little shop up and running. My wife makes her own chutney and jams – and butter. I’ve told her she ought to take them to a farmer’s market, but she says she hasn’t time.” “Farmer’s markets are becoming very popular,” I said. “It would add an extra dimension to the scheme if we could have a farm shop on site. Mrs. Jones might know other women who make things they would like to sell through us. But the animals are the most important thing for the children.” “We breed goats for the cheese,” Bill said, “which means there are usually a few kids running around and my wife is keen on chinchilla rabbits. She would let you have some of those I imagine. We keep a few calves because of the milking herd, and I’ve one or two special pigs. Remember the Tamworth Two? Mine are like those. My son wanted them as pets. Pigs are popular with children these days. My children also have a couple of Potbellies that are about to breed… that’s a large, friendly pig, Miss Langley.” “Yes, I’ve seen them on TV. They are rather gorgeous, aren’t they? It sounds as though you already have quite a menagerie.” “I like a mixture of animals about the place, makes life more interesting – although the money comes from other crops these days. I’ve thought about getting a couple of llamas, for the wool you know – I was hesitating, but now I think I’ll go ahead. It will make something for the children to feed – they can make good pets.” “Yes, I saw them at a theme park when I was a teenager. We gave one an apple and he kicked up his heels and ran away with the others chasing after him.” “Sounds as if you’ve thought about all this for a while, Miss Langley?” “The idea came to me a few weeks ago when I was down here before – but it took a while to crystallize in my head.” I glanced at my companion and he nodded. “You see, Sir Melvin wasn’t sure what to do about the housing estate, and I came up with a suggestion. We’ve come to an agreement over the land for the charity and, since we are already friends, we’re going to be partners in the holiday venture. It means I shall be visiting a lot more.” “Well … doesn’t that just beat all?” he said and scratched his head. “So we shall be seeing a lot more of you, well that’s nice for Sir Melvin and the rest of us, miss. It’s time there was a bit more life around here.” “Why not call me Georgie? Everybody does.” “Well, Georgie. I’m glad you happened along. I thought the estate might be sold, and I’d heard rumors – which would have made me think twice about continuing here – but this is the best news ever. Just wait until I tell my wife. She’ll be made up over this!” “I think it’s good news too,” I said and smiled at Melvin. “And I’m looking forward to spending time here in future.” Melvin looked at me affectionately as we walked back to the car together. “You realize that the whole village will know once Bill tells his wife?” “That doesn’t worry me,” I said. “I want people to know I’m your friend and partner.” Melvin didn’t say much, but I could see the smile on his lips and knew that he was pleased with the outcome of our visit to the farm. There was bound to be gossip, and some people would think we were having an affair but, in time, they would get

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used to the idea. We didn’t need to talk much as we drove back to the house, but we were both feeling a quiet satisfaction. If there was a shadow hovering at the back of my mind I tried not to show it. I didn’t want to worry Melvin, because I could still be wrong…

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN Brenda looked at me excitedly as I walked into the house. Melvin had stopped to talk to the gardener and she grabbed my arm, pushing me in the direction of the kitchen. “I would rather Melvin didn’t know,” she said, “but Muriel is here. I asked her to come and she arrived a few minutes ago. She has something important to tell you, Georgie. She was most insistent that she talk to you.” “I should be interested in meeting your friend, Brenda.” “Oh, she isn’t really a friend,” Brenda said. “I just went to her for help after my mother died…” A woman was sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea. I’m not sure what I was expecting – perhaps someone dressed in lots of beads or theatrical in some way – but she was very different from anything I might have imagined. Just a small, thin, ordinary-looking woman you wouldn’t glance at twice in the street – until you saw her eyes, that is. She was staring at me, and the intensity in her gaze sent a shiver down my spine. Why on earth was she staring at me like that? “Hello,” I said feeling cold all over. My skin had come up in goose pimples and, for a moment, I actually felt frightened. “You are Muriel? Brenda told me about you.” “You are in great danger,” she said and got up, coming towards me and seizing my hands. “I had to come. I have not been able to rest since Brenda brought me your scarf. I have felt your death…seen it in my dreams. You must be very careful…the shadow hovers closely at your shoulder…it is evil…” I tore my hands from hers, feeling as if an electric current had run through me. “Why?” I asked. “Where is the danger coming from? Who wants to harm me?” “It is all around you,” she said. “You wear it like an aura. You must go away from here. If you stay, terrible things will happen and not just to you.” “I’m afraid I have no intention of leaving,” I replied, “and, unless you can tell me who intends to harm me, I must ignore your warning. If this is an attempt to frighten me…” She looked at me and then started to tremble. “You are too strong,” she said. “You will cause terrible things to happen. You should go … go, before it is too late.” “I think this is all a bit ridiculous…” I began but, before I could finish, she had rushed past me to the back door. She wrenched it open, and looked back at me for one moment, a reproachful expression in her eyes. “I tried…” she said hoarsely. “It is your own fault.” “Muriel…” Brenda went to the door after her. “Won’t you try to contact Georgie’s sister? She might listen to you then.” “I tried… for her sake and for yours,” Muriel replied. “I can’t stay here … too much evil…too much evil.” Brenda came back to me looking distressed. “I have never known Muriel behave like that before, Georgie. I am so sorry. She is always so reliable and so steady. I’ve never heard her say anything like that to anyone.”

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“She seemed a bit odd,” I said, carefully. “She hadn’t been at the whisky, had she?” “Don’t laugh,” Brenda said. “This is serious, Georgie. Perhaps you should leave – now, before anything bad happens.” “What could happen?” I asked. “I don’t believe someone wants to kill me. Why should they? Besides, it could happen in London as easily as here. If someone wants me dead, why don’t they just do it?” Brenda shook her head, and I saw there were tears in her eyes. “I don’t know, Georgie – but I’m frightened. Muriel kept ringing me up and telling me she had a message for you. I thought she had been in contact with April, that she might be able to help you find out who killed your sister. I didn’t dream she would say something like that to you – or I wouldn’t have told her to come.” “No, I’m sure you wouldn’t, Brenda,” I said. “But don’t let it upset you. I assure you she hasn’t bothered me. I told you it takes a lot to push me over the edge, didn’t I? I was shocked when April was killed, but I’m fine now.” “Yes, you are very strong,” Brenda said. “Muriel was right about that. You are much stronger than most people.” “Oh, I don’t know about that,” I said. “It’s just that I don’t believe in this mumbo jumbo about talking to the departed. If Muriel really believes I am in danger, she should have made sure of her facts – and, anyway, she seemed to change her mind. It seems that I might not be the only one who is doomed.” I laughed. “Just forget all about it, Brenda. I certainly shall. And now I have something to do.” I was smiling as I left the kitchen and made my way towards Melvin’s study, but I was shaking inside. My brief but dramatic encounter with Muriel had been disturbing to say the least. However, there was no way I was going to let anyone else see that I had been shocked – by her manner as much as her words. She had actually seemed to feel oppressed by the sense of evil she felt around her. This was stupid of me! I couldn’t afford to let her get to me - it was very important that I kept my wits about me for the time being. Something was going to happen and, if my instincts were right, it would happen quite soon. I rang Steve from the study. His office answering machine was on and his mobile wasn’t working. “Come on, Steve,” I muttered, as I was requested to leave a message. “I need some answers. You were right, there is something very odd going on down here – and dangerous. A psychic has just warned me that I am in danger – and, failing my death, I’m going to be the cause of terrible destruction. The poor dear couldn’t seem to make up her mind, but she felt the evil in this house – and I have too, Steve. I couldn’t feel it when I first came down here, but it is much stronger now and, even if I’m not in danger, someone else is. I’ve done some research myself, and I think I’m on the right track – but any help you can give me will be appreciated. I’m going to try ringing Inspector Thorpe now. I’m not going to tell him what I told you, but I want to ask him something. My mobile is out of order at the moment, so ring me on Sir Melvin’s number. And make it soon, please!” I replaced the receiver and dialed Inspector Thorpe’s number. I was told that the service was temporarily unavailable, and frowned as I left my brief message.

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“Would it be possible for me to pick up April’s laptop sometime?” I asked. “I would like to check something out – unless you still need it? Let me know please. I’m a little anxious about something…” I was thoughtful as I went upstairs. I had been warned a couple of times now – what would the murderer do next? ***** The afternoon passed without incident. After a light lunch of salad, cold ham and jacket potatoes, Melvin went up to rest on his bed and I spent the time working on an article I had been planning. It wasn’t easy to concentrate because other thoughts kept intruding, but I did my best to shut them out. There was really nothing I could do now but wait. I had been given several warnings and refused to heed them. She was going to have to push a little harder if She wanted to be rid of me. I was alerted to the danger, and it was a bit frightening but I was fairly certain that I would be the next victim. I had been confused about the murderer’s motives, but that was before I’d really begun to understand what was going on here – and I was almost sure that at long last I did. She was devious and clever, but she had made a couple of mistakes – and this time I was thinking! After April’s death I had been too stunned to notice small things, but that was no longer the case. Inspector Thorpe rang while I was working. I hadn’t connected to the Internet, because Melvin’s phone was now my only line to the outside world and I needed my calls to come through. Of course, if the house phone were cut off… but I must hope that thought hadn’t occurred to her. “You rang about your sister’s laptop, Miss Langley?” “I was wondering if I could have it, please?” “My computer expert is still working on the codes – but I can tell you that there was an attempt to transfer money from Miss Langley’s online banking account. It failed because the wrong password was given, but the attempt was made.” “Really? That surprises me, Inspector. I wouldn’t have thought Greg capable of using a computer – would you?” “We think someone else had it for a while. Someone who had a little knowledge of how to use a computer, but not enough, apparently. I believe that Greg was telling the truth when he said he found it. I think whoever killed your sister and her husband took the computer – and I believe that person may be clever and ruthless. I also think it may be someone local.” “Oh yes, I agree, Inspector. I think that person is very clever and also ruthless. Has your expert thought of looking to see if there is an email account set up in the name of Atlas? And was the account used through a WAP phone registered to my sister?” “How did you know that – or was it a guess?” “Call it intuition. My sister usually kept the two together, and our murderer is very clever and very careful to cover his or her tracks. The emails were sent to me from April’s laptop – which was how the murderer was able to make the first one seem it had come from April herself. It must have been abandoned after it was no

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longer of use to the murderer. I wonder where the phone is … perhaps the murderer still has it. I might try calling the number.” “That would be foolish and possibly dangerous. Just what do you know that you aren’t telling me, Miss Langley? I think you are hiding something – and that is very foolish of you.” He sounded suspicious and a little annoyed. “Don’t you think it’s time you called me Georgie? Unless I’m still a suspect, of course?” “Should you be, Miss Langley? Let me tell you, I think you know you are playing with fire. If you know something important tell me now, for your own sake. This isn’t a game.” “If I knew anything that would lead to an arrest I would tell you,” I said. “Please don’t worry about me, Inspector. I’m tougher than you think, believe me.” “That’s what worries me,” he said wryly. “My mobile is staying open tonight, Miss Langley. Please ring me if you decide there is anything I ought to know.” He shut off his phone. I held on for a moment or two longer and heard the click I had been expecting. An icy trickle went all the way down my spine. Someone had been listening in on one of the extensions. I knew there was one in the hall and another in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure if there were any more. It was of course the reason my mobile had been damaged. Whoever had done that had wanted to feel in control, and by listening to my calls She knew exactly what was going on. Steve hadn’t rung me but, by now, I was pretty sure that my theory was correct. I couldn’t supply all the details, but I knew what was going on here – although I still wasn’t completely sure why. I had an idea that might cover part of it, but I had a feeling there was more. Something buried in the past… ***** Harry frowned as he laid his mobile down. He had accused Georgie Langley of holding out on him, but he was guilty of the same offense. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told her what he’d discovered, except that he was still turning possibilities over in his mind. Perhaps it was because of the picture he still carried of Belinda Creek in his dreams. In his madness over his daughter’s death he had seen that child as a vampire and the picture had never ceased to haunt him. He ought to have told Georgie and yet something had made him hold back. He couldn’t help thinking that he had missed something. Yet there was the mystery of April Langley’s death to be solved, and he couldn’t allow his personal feelings to cloud his judgment. He would have to think about this very carefully… ***** Melvin came down to dinner. I noticed he ate very little and I saw Brenda watching him anxiously. “Are you feeling unwell again?” I asked afterwards. “When I suggested a diet I didn’t mean you had to starve yourself.”

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“I am not hungry, Georgie – and I am a little tired. I think I shall go up early this evening. I expect it was all the excitement of coming home yesterday.” He did look a little drawn and I was anxious. I had felt sure he was in no danger, but now I was beginning to worry. After all, I was dealing with an unstable mind here and there was no way of knowing what she would do next. I couldn’t see that his death would be of benefit to the woman I suspected of being a ruthless killer – but there was always the unknown factor. Brenda and I watched a comedy show on the TV together. She switched off when the film came on. “It’s a murder mystery,” she said. “I don’t feel like watching it, Georgie. I don’t know about you – but I’ve got the shakes. Muriel really upset me earlier.” “I told you to forget it, Brenda. She had probably been drinking – or she is mentally unstable…” “Don’t!” She looked at me fearfully. “It’s no good – I have to tell you. I think my aunt is losing her mind and I believe she might have done something terrible.” “I gathered that much earlier,” I said. “I agree that Miss Stratton is very ill – but what do you think she might have done?” “I think… she may have killed someone.” A chill spread over me as I looked at Brenda. Her eyes were dark with anxiety, her manner one of extreme distress. “Surely not?” I arched my brows at her. “Do you really think so? What makes you suspect such a terrible thing, Brenda?” “I saw her burning some clothes… they had bloodstains on them.” I stared at her in horror. She was confirming my theory with every word she spoke. “How can you be sure it was blood? Besides, she might have cut herself badly.” “No, she hadn’t. I would have known. Besides, she was behaving so oddly… guilty and frightened. It was the day after… No, it is too terrible. I must be wrong!” “Are you suggesting that Miss Stratton might have shot April and her husband?” “Yes…No!” She looked as if she might faint. “No, of course not. She couldn’t have done such a wicked thing. I must be wrong… mustn’t I?” “I don’t know,” I replied. “She has been ill since then… and if she had some kind of mental breakdown… but why would she do it, Brenda? Why April and not someone else?” “She thought April was you,” Brenda said, and the words seemed to be forced out of her. “And she hates journalists because of what they did to Melvin years ago. I think she wanted to protect him.” “Yes, I see,” I said. “I can understand why she might have resented my coming down here – but does that mean she also killed Teddy Husk?” Brenda bit her lip. She was as white as a ghost, and I thought she might have hysterics at any minute. “She was so angry over that newspaper article – but I can hardly believe she would do such a wicked thing. And yet…” “Yes? What makes you think she might have?” “I’ve seen her watching you, Georgie. She stands at the landing window and

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watches when you leave the house – and I think she listens to your phone calls. I keep thinking she might try again… and after what Muriel said… I’m frightened.” “Yes, it is rather an uncomfortable situation, isn’t it? If Miss Stratton is mentally unstable… what do you think we should do? We don’t want to call in the police, do we? That would be unpleasant for everyone. Surely you and I can manage this ourselves, Brenda?” “Oh yes!” She looked at me eagerly. “I did so hope you would say that, Georgie. If we wait until she’s having one of her funny turns we might get her committed. Or at least put away somewhere for a while.” “Yes, we might,” I agreed carefully. “It would be much the best solution for all of us.” Brenda was weeping into her handkerchief. “I knew you would understand,” she said in a muffled tone. “Your poor Aunt Jane… You know what it’s like to see someone you care for become mentally ill, don’t you, Georgie?” “Yes, I do,” I said. “And I know what you must be going through. I am so sorry, Brenda. If Miss Stratton really has done these terrible things – well, she is still your aunt. She must be suffering, wouldn’t you think? And of course, you must still love her.” “She isn’t really very loveable,” Brenda said and dried her eyes. “She’s a hard, cold woman, Georgie – but I care what happens to her, of course I do.” “Something will have to be done,” I said, “but, as long as we are careful, it can wait for a while. After all, we need to be sure. Neither of us would want to make a mistake over something like this. I think we should just wait and watch for the time being…” “Yes, we must be sure.” Brenda looked happier. “I am so glad I talked to you, Georgie. I couldn’t tell Melvin – especially after he was so ill.” “Yes, that was rather strange,” I agreed. “The doctors still aren’t sure what caused his illness – though they are doing more tests and will probably come up with the answer eventually.” I stood up and yawned. “I’m sleepy. I think I shall go to bed, Brenda.” “Shall I bring you some cocoa?” “I would rather have tea – if that’s no trouble?” “Of course it isn’t. You know I enjoy looking after people.” “Yes, you do,” I said. “The trouble is that some people don’t appreciate all you do for them – do they?” “No…” She looked at me oddly. “How perceptive you are, Georgie.” “Oh, not really – but I have noticed little things…” I went out before she could answer. If I had been in any doubt that my theory was correct, I knew the truth now. Upstairs in my room I felt the sickness and anger wash over me in a great wave and it took all my willpower to stop it bursting out of me. Yet I knew I had to be patient; I had to play out the drama – because it would still be too difficult to prove what I knew to be true. I had a feeling I would not have to wait very long now. I undressed down to my bra and pants and pulled on a huge, loose tee shirt. Normally I didn’t wear anything in bed, but I wanted to be prepared.

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I had just finished brushing my hair, when Brenda brought my tea in and put it on the dressing table. She gazed at me thoughtfully. “You look like April sometimes – it’s no wonder people took you for sisters.” “Yes, we were alike in some ways, but not in others.” I hesitated, then, “Did you ever see her close up, Brenda? She was very lovely – much prettier than me.” “Of course I’ve seen her – I gave her the key to the cottage the day she came here claiming to be you.” “You gave it to her yourself? Then you must know we weren’t really alike…” “Even true sisters can be unlike each other,” she said. “April was lucky to have you as a sister, Georgie. If she hadn’t been adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Langley, it might all have been different.” “What do you mean, Brenda? “Oh, nothing,” she said. “Drink your tea while it’s hot, Georgie.” “Yes, thank you.” I picked it up and sipped. “Lovely.” “Goodnight then,” she said. “I wish we had been sisters, Georgie. I was lonely as a child. I wouldn’t have been if I’d had you to talk to. I could have shared my secrets with you.” She went out and closed the door behind her. I put down my cup, before picking it up again and pouring the contents into a vase. I left the empty cup on the dressing table, and then I got into bed and closed my eyes. ***** I hadn’t intended to sleep, hadn’t imagined I would when every nerve in my body was being pulled as tight as a drum skin, but I must have dozed off because the slight sound woke me. Someone was in my room! She had left the light on in the hall, but she wasn’t bothering to be careful – why should she? She was sure that I would be drugged out of my mind and incapable of resisting her. “Are you awake, Georgie?” She bent over my shoulder, shaking me roughly. “Come on! You can hear me. I didn’t give you enough to knock you right out – just to make you a little more amenable.” “Who..ss that?” I muttered groggily as I struggled to open my eyelids. “Iss that you, Brenda? Whass wrong?” “It’s Melvin,” she said. “He’s had another heart attack. You’ve got to get up and come downstairs.” “Can’t get up…” I muttered. “Too tired…” “Yes, you can!” she said sharply. “Don’t play games, Georgie. You’re not quite as clever as you thought you were, are you? You always suspected my aunt – but you were quite wrong. She isn’t mentally ill, just a little out of sorts, and she isn’t a murderer. I’ve been giving her something… just enough to make her feel ill and stop her interfering. I’m not ready to get rid of her just yet… though you showed me how to do it when the time comes.” Brenda was dragging me from the bed. I fell on the floor, looking up at her stupidly. “Feel sick… room going round. Am I dreaming? Hall...u…cinating… nothing real.”

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“Yes, that’s one of the effects of my little cocktail. I gave you a small amount of Ecstasy last time but it didn’t do much – so this time I added LSD and a few other things. I may have overdone it, of course. One can never be quite sure what these drugs will do. Everyone reacts differently. Melvin shouldn’t have been so ill – that frightened me. I was just trying to frighten him into selling the land for that housing estate. What he’s planning to do now is such a waste of all that lovely money! I don’t want him to die… at least not until after we’re married. After you’re dead, he will need me again…he cared for me until you came here. He will turn to me when you’re dead…” I tried to rise but couldn’t. Brenda grabbed my arm and yanked me upright, putting an arm about my waist as I half stumbled. “You stupid girl,” she said in a scolding tone. “You can’t collapse on me here. I’ve got to get you to the stairs. It’s not my fault if you took an overdose of drugs.” “Don’t…do…drugs,” I mumbled and ran my tongue over my lips. “Mouth dry… feel ill…” “Of course you do drugs,” Brenda said. “All your kind do. You’re rich and spoiled and you waste your lives. It isn’t fair. You and April, you had everything. I had nothing. My father was a pig. He deserved to die. I was so clever, Georgie. No one ever suspected anything. He died of a heart attack, but they didn’t know I made it happen… drugs are so powerful if you know how to use them, and they always fascinated me. I kept house for a chemist, did you know that? He was my lover and he taught me an awful lot – but then he threw me over for someone else. I made him sorry for that!” She was gloating, enjoying herself as she told me how clever she had been to get rid of her enemies. “Head spinning… don’t understand. April…” “She deserved to die too,” Brenda said viciously. “She had it all and I had to work for my living, to be polite and nice – and she could do anything she liked. It wasn’t fair. Then she came here and she would have taken the rest. I couldn’t let her do that… so she had to die. And that fat pig of a reporter who thought he was so clever – but he was stupid. He imagined I had asked him to meet me so that we could talk…” She was supporting me as we walked to the top of the stairs. I felt icy cold as I realized what she was planning… my death had to be an accident, because another murder would be one too many. “I’m sorry, Georgie,” Brenda said as we reached the top of the stairs. “I really didn’t want to do this – I liked you. I wished you had been my sister instead of her.” “What do you mean, Brenda? Why did you kill April – and why do you want to kill me?” I let the pretence of being drugged slip away and stood upright. She stared at me in bewilderment, not realizing what was going on for a moment, and then a look of anger flashed in her eyes. “You tricked me! You poured the tea away…” “I told you I was tough, Brenda. You should have believed me. I did wonder about your aunt for a while, but I’ve seen mental illness. I know the difference. Miss Stratton was being drugged – and I am a journalist. I do my research. You destroyed

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my mobile, but you were too late. I don’t have all the answers, but I guessed you had made Melvin have an illness that appeared to be a heart attack…” Brenda’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. Just as I’d dropped my pretence of being drugged, her nice gentle, slightly old-fashioned manner had fallen away – and I saw her for the vicious killer she was. “You’re so fucking clever,” she said. “I underestimated you. I should have killed you that first morning you went for a walk. I could have done it. You were so upset you wouldn’t even have known I was there.” “But that would have been too much of a coincidence, wouldn’t it?” I said, watching the flash of fury in her eyes. “You had to be more subtle, didn’t you? You were afraid Inspector Thorpe might work it out.” “That fool! He couldn’t see the truth if it was under his nose!” “What is the truth, Brenda? Why did you kill April – and why do you want to kill me now?” “You were becoming suspicious,” she said. “And you were taking over. If you hadn’t come up with that stupid scheme of yours I might have let you live.” “So you didn’t kill April because you thought she was me?” “I gave her the key, silly! I knew who she was. I’d seen her on TV enough times.” “Then why? Tell me why, Brenda. I need to know.” “I’ll tell you why she killed April Langley.” We both turned in surprise as Miss Stratton spoke from behind us. She was standing a few feet away wearing a pink dressing gown and fur slippers. Brenda shot a look of annoyance at her; this wasn’t a part of her plans. No doubt her aunt was supposed to have swallowed a similar concoction to the one she had given me, to keep her quiet until Brenda had disposed of me. “Go to bed, Auntie. This doesn’t concern you.” “I think it does, very much,” Miss Stratton said. “You’ve done your best to destroy me, Brenda – but I wasn’t as weak or as stupid as you thought. At first I couldn’t believe what my mind was telling me, but I know the truth now and I’m going to see you punished for the wicked things you’ve done.” “Don’t you dare to threaten me!” Brenda’s eyes glittered with fury. “I know too much about you. If I tell what I know, you will have to leave here.” “That no longer matters,” Miss Stratton replied. “I’ve kept silent for too long. I cannot do so any longer.” “Damn you!” Brenda looked from her aunt to me, weighing up which of us was more dangerous to her, and then she sprang at me. “When you’re dead I’ll deal with her.” Her hands were like claws as she went for my eyes, but I caught her wrists before she could strike and we began to struggle at the head of the stairs as she tried desperately to throw me down. Had I been drugged as she had hoped I would have stood no chance against her, but I was wide-awake and strong. I managed to throw her off and she slipped down a couple of stairs, but clung hold of the banisters saving herself from falling all the way. “You won’t escape me, Georgie – or you, Auntie dear!” Suddenly something silver glinted in her hand and I saw that she had a knife.

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It was a wicked, evil thing, a kind of flick knife that she must have had concealed about her. There was something horrifying in the way she was looking at me as she raised her arm, preparing to strike. She had lost all control now, her eyes glittering with the insanity that must always have been there but hidden behind a mask of gentle obedience. I should have known when I saw her in her sexy nightgown that the face she showed to the world was a sham intended to deceive. All pretence was gone now. Nothing mattered to her but her desire to see me dead! “Stand aside, Miss Langley!” I whirled around as I heard the note of command in Miss Stratton’s voice, gasping as I saw the revolver in her hand. She was pointing it straight at Brenda, her manner deadly calm. A thrill of revulsion ran through me as I realized what she meant to do. “Don’t!” I cried. “You mustn’t do this…” I was too late. Her finger was on the trigger. I saw the shock and disbelief in Brenda’s eyes as the shots were fired – six of them, thudding into her. I watched as her body jerked, rising into the air and then falling backwards down the stairs. “Oh, my God! What have you done?” I cried, my stomach churning. It was like something out of a nightmare. “Miss Stratton! What have you done?” “Something that needed doing,” Miss Stratton replied. She was unnaturally calm, clearly in shock herself. Her very calmness was terrifying. “I should imagine she is dead – but you had better summon the police and an ambulance.” “You killed her. You killed your own brother’s child,” I said as my father came out of his bedroom. I ran down the stairs to look at Brenda, hoping that by some miracle she might still be alive, but I could see at once that she had never stood a chance. Every one of Miss Stratton’s shots had found their target, and Brenda’s body was torn and bleeding, her eyes open and staring in disbelief, as though even at the moment of death she had thought herself invincible. “What’s going on?” Melvin asked, looking stunned. He had come rushing out of his room and his bewildered gaze flew from me to his secretary as if he were struggling to take in what he was witnessing. “Good grief! Has Brenda been shot? Miss Stratton… why? Why did you shoot her?” He looked at her in disbelief and horror. “Georgie…” He was appealing to me now as he struggled to come to terms with this new tragedy. “Why?” I shook my head at him, beginning to walk back up the stairs to them. I was still reeling from the shock myself. Even though I knew Brenda had killed others, I still found it difficult to take in what had happened to her. “Because she was a murderer,” Mrs. Stratton replied, still in that calm flat tone. “I have just killed her with the gun she used to kill Miss April Langley and her husband.” Sir Melvin passed a hand across his brow, totally bewildered now. He looked at me, seeking confirmation and I nodded. “Yes, it’s true,” I said. “She told me so herself this evening. She was boasting about it, about how clever she was.” “Like you, I could not bring myself to believe that she could so such a thing at first,” Miss Stratton went on as though there had been no interruptions. She showed no emotion, her manner as matter of fact as always. “But I do assure you it is so, Sir

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Melvin. Brenda hid the gun, of course, and she must have disposed of her clothes. I couldn’t be absolutely sure she was guilty. “Indeed, I was reluctant to think ill of her, but I had suspected she was capable of murder for a long time. She tried to convince me I was losing my mind, and she gave me things that made me confused, but I became wary and threw away the bedtime drinks she brought for me. Then I discovered she had hidden the gun in my room, hoping it would prove that I killed Georgina’s sister – but it was Brenda. I believe she has killed five people – of course there could be more. She is evil like her father…” Sir Melvin frowned and looked doubtful. “Your brother was a hard man but I wouldn’t have called him evil.” “Brenda was not my brother’s child. She was the daughter of a man called Sven Thorsen – who died in local police cells known as John White.” Melvin ran a hand across his eyes. It was obvious that he was totally bewildered, but now that the first shock had eased a little, I was beginning to understand. “Will you ring for the police?” I asked, giving him a meaningful look. “I’m going to take Miss Stratton to the kitchen and make her a nice cup of tea. You would like a cup of tea, wouldn’t you, Miss Stratton?” “Yes, please, Miss Langley.” “And Brenda?” Melvin said. He was clearly still struggling to come to terms with everything he had been told. It had not occurred to him to suspect either his housekeeper or Brenda of being involved in April’s murder. I glanced at her body still lying sprawled obscenely at the bottom of the stairs, the blood spattered everywhere. “She is dead,” I said, “and, as shocking as that is, perhaps it may be for the best. She was mentally ill.” “She was insane,” Miss Stratton said. “It didn’t show most of the time, but I knew the madness was there. I always knew something might happen one day – but she was my daughter…” “Your daughter?” Melvin stared at her. I shook my head at him, warning him to leave it for now. “Come and have a cup of tea,” I said held out my hand to her invitingly. “You can tell me all of it – because there’s a lot more to tell, isn’t there?” “Yes.” She smiled at me wearily. “It will be a relief to talk about it. I have wanted to tell someone for a long, long time. You have no idea how much I have wanted to speak…” I steered her past Brenda’s lifeless body, drawing her into the kitchen. She was trembling, as I took her arm and made her sit down in a comfortable grandfather chair. “You are being very kind to me, Miss Langley.” “You have been through a terrible time since April was killed.” “Yes. It almost killed me when I realized what had happened.” She looked at me, her brows lifting as if she expected me to understand. “Do you know why? Do you understand why she killed April Langley?”

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“I think I am beginning to see the picture. April was your daughter too – wasn’t she?” A sigh issued from her lips and she closed her eyes for a moment. I saw that her hand had begun to tremble, and I knew the shock had begun to come out in her. “You are an intelligent young woman, Georgie. I am glad April had you for her sister.” “She was your child, wasn’t she?” I prompted gently as she lifted a shaking hand to her brow. She took a deep breath and then looked at me steadily. “Yes, April was my daughter – but not Sven’s. I had Brenda by Sven, but he was so violent – so vicious. I left him after he almost beat me to death, and I gave Brenda to my brother and his wife. They had no children, and I thought she would be safe with them. I met someone else. He was kinder but faithless. We had a brief affair and he deserted me when I became pregnant. I tried to kill myself soon after April was born. I was rushed to hospital and I recovered – but they took April away from me. I had to let her go for adoption because I wasn’t a fit mother. Somehow I pulled myself together. I wrote some references for myself and came here to work for Sir Melvin, and then…” “Sven found you again?” She nodded and sighed wearily. “Yes, after a couple of years. He came to the house and started to blackmail me. I wanted to stay here – I was a little in love with my employer, though he never guessed it. He was in love with Janice Creek, of course.” “So you gave Sven money and then what?” “He wanted more but I hadn’t any to give him. He told me to get some and bring it to the woods…” She faltered and looked at me. “I saw him leaving Janice Creek’s cottage and he was covered in blood. I hid until he had gone, then I looked in at the window and saw… what he had done.” “You phoned the police, didn’t you?” She nodded agreement, “because you couldn’t leave the child there with her mother.” “Belinda was such a lovely child. I was very upset about what had happened and I blamed myself. If it were not for me, Sven wouldn’t have been there. Afterwards, I wanted to tell the truth but I was afraid – of Sven and of losing my job. I thought Sven would go away and leave me alone…” “But he didn’t?” “He came back, a year later, demanding money. I told him I would bring it to the cottage…” “And then you phoned the police anonymously and told them he was the murderer – and where to find him?” “Yes. They arrested him and he hanged himself. I think he thought I would testify against him – and I might have.” She sighed heavily. “I was glad he was dead, but it meant the crime couldn’t be solved. Sir Melvin has had to live with that shadow hanging over him all these years.” “Yes, that was a terrible thing,” I agreed, “but you knew justice had been done – and you did all you could to protect him. How did Brenda find out?” “I don’t know. She was always a very secretive child, listening behind doors and prying into other people’s things, and somehow she worked most of it out. She

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had a way of getting into your mind, making you confide in her. After her mother’s death she came here and demanded a job. I asked Sir Melvin, and he let her stay on as housekeeper. She said that if I didn’t help her she would tell him everything.” “And then April wrote to you – or did she come to see you?” “She wrote and asked to meet me. I was reluctant at first, and then I gave in. We had tea together in Norwich and I liked her so much. She was lovely and she wanted us to be close. I liked her…” Miss Stratton gave a little sob of despair. “Brenda found the letter. She was furious that I hadn’t told her she had a half sister – and jealous because April had done so well for herself. I think she blamed me for giving her to my brother while April was adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Langley.” “Yes. She said something about it before you came out of your room this evening. She thought she had been treated unfairly.” The kettle was boiling and I made the tea. It was hot and sweet, refreshing me as I put my thoughts into words. “So when April came here to collect the key… Brenda seized the opportunity to be rid of her rival.” “Brenda thought Sir Melvin might marry her,” Miss Stratton said, with another sigh. “He wouldn’t have, of course – but he had left both of us a few thousand pounds in his Will. He had told me, so that I wouldn’t worry if anything happened to him. The rest of it was going to the National Trust. I suppose Brenda thought she might lose even that if the truth came out. You see, I had foolishly told her that I had decided to speak out. I wanted to clear Sir Melvin’s name.” Melvin had come to the door of the kitchen. I was sure he had heard most of her story, but had not wanted to intrude. “Inspector Thorpe is on his way. It seems he was expecting a call from you, Georgie. And it seems that Steve is with him…” “Yes,” Miss Stratton said. “It is fitting that it should be Inspector Thorpe. It began with him all those years ago… and he will be glad to have it all cleared up.” ***** “You are a brave, but very foolish, young woman,” Harry Thorpe said, giving me a severe look, an hour or so later. “I knew you were hiding something from me – so when Steve turned up with his startling revelations about who April really was, I began to think you might be in imminent danger…” “You knew that April was Miss Stratton’s daughter – but you didn’t ring me, Steve?” “I tried twice yesterday,” he said and frowned. “Brenda answered. She said you were out and she wasn’t sure when you would be back. In the light of what I had discovered, I began to put two and two together.” “I had no idea that Brenda was Miss Stratton’s daughter – or that April was her half sister. The truth was in April’s documents all the time…I should have looked harder for them. But I was convinced that she was Janice’s daughter, because of the locket – which I most probably gave her. Perhaps that’s why she was so fond of it…” “She had put her adoption papers and birth certificate in a safety deposit box,” Steve said. “I opened the package from her solicitor as you asked, Georgie, and

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when I found the key I went to investigate. As soon as I read them I knew the murders had to be connected with something going on down here. And with your suspicions about Sir Melvin’s illness having been down to some kind of poisoning…” He was looking at me anxiously and I smiled to reassure him. “You must have wondered what was going on when I asked you to trace where Brenda had worked and how her father died… I know the answers now, because she told me. She wanted to brag about the things she’d done, and she thought I was incapable of resisting her attempt to kill me. She had quite a lot of knowledge about drugs, and about things like poisonous mushrooms I suspect. I believe she may have used something like that to produce symptoms of a heart attack in Melvin…” “Good grief!” Inspector Thorpe looked amazed. “I didn’t know that was possible.” “Yes, it is a bit odd, but true. I did some research on the Internet, before Brenda destroyed my mobile, and I discovered that some of the symptoms caused by certain fungi poisoning are sweating, labored breathing, severe nausea and blurred vision – to name but a few. One particular type actually causes cardiovascular disturbances that last for two or three hours, especially if combined with alcohol. In many of these cases the physician treating the patient may think it is a mild heart attack, though nothing will show up in the usual tests – and the poison could have disappeared before other tests are done, especially if given in small doses.” “But why did she want to harm Sir Melvin? I thought Miss Stratton told you she was hoping to marry him.” Inspector Thorpe looked mystified. “Yes, that was true. She did it because she wanted him to think he was ill. She wanted him to sell that building land for a lot of money, because she was hoping to marry him,” I said. “Brenda liked to be in control. She believed she could gain control of Melvin by making him dependant on her, but he proved obstinate – and he had begun to turn to me instead of her. I was the fly in the ointment. I wanted to change things too much. So she decided I had to be got rid of, and she knew it had to look like an accident.” “Yes, another murder would have made me very suspicious of this household,” said Inspector Thorpe with a frown. “Thank goodness you didn’t drink that tea!” Steve said, looking at me anxiously. “I had begun to work it out, Georgie, though not all of it by any means … I might have been too late.” He looked stricken. “Yes, she almost got away with it.” Brenda had been a clever actress, and for a long time she had managed to fool us all – because even Steve had thought her aunt was the one hiding something, which, of course, she had been. She alone had suspected Brenda from the beginning, and that was why she had been given small doses of drugs that made her ill. “I was convinced her aunt was the dangerous one.” “Yes,” I agreed. “I began to suspect something when one of the doctors mentioned he was puzzled by Sir Melvin’s illness. He told me he didn’t believe it had been a heart attack and he thought the symptoms might have been induced by some kind of drug – but they hadn’t come up with any obvious answers. That

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lingered in my mind for a while and then other things began to occur to me – things that didn’t quite add up unless Brenda was behind it all. I suspected her reasons for making Melvin ill, but I didn’t see why she had killed April…” Steve nodded. “It’s odd how little things click into place, isn’t it? When I discovered the link between April and this place, but couldn’t reach you by phone, I knew you were in danger…” “That’s when Steve came to me,” Harry Thorpe said. “I suspected from the beginning that something was going on here, Miss Langley. At first I thought Sir Melvin might be involved in your sister’s murder – I got hold of the wrong end of the stick years ago and that had always stayed with me. But then I did a rethink and I began to see that maybe there was more to this than met the eye. I read up the old case notes on Janice Creek’s murder – it was very curious that we received those anonymous phone calls as you pointed out. “I hadn’t thought about that much, because I was taken off the case before the second one came in. The indications were that both calls had come from the same person and that that person was likely to have been a woman. That made me wonder about Miss Stratton…Brenda was too young to have been involved in that, of course. And I suppose that’s why I didn’t make the connection sooner.” “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you any more,” I said. “I might have done that last time – except that I thought Brenda was listening in on the call. To have said anything then would have been to alert her. I was pretending to go along with her – to believe that Miss Stratton had had a mental breakdown…” “I’ll be honest,” Steve said. “I thought she might have done.” “Yes, so did I for a little while,” I admitted. “But then I realized that she was ill – not mentally but physically. I knew she had been very distressed when April was killed, but I couldn’t see why. It was a long time before I began to unravel the various pieces of the puzzle. I never did guess that Brenda was her daughter, but I did sense that she was a little wary of her. She obviously knew that Brenda was giving her something to make her confused and ill…” I looked at Harry Thorpe. “What will happen to Miss Stratton? Will she be charged with murder?” “For the moment she is going to be given nursing care,” he replied. “She is still suffering from strain and shock – and that will be taken into consideration.” “She probably saved my life…” “It will be for others to decide whether she is charged and what that charge will be,” he said, “but I shall do my best to see that she is given a fair hearing, Miss Langley. She might get away with manslaughter while the balance of her mind was disturbed – and that could lead to a period of rehabilitation. If she agreed to voluntary treatment she might be free in a year or two…” “That hardly seems fair,” I said. “She could be said to have killed in self defense.” “Get a good lawyer for her,” Harry Thorpe said. “And next time something like this happens – tell the police.” “I hope nothing like this will ever happen again,” I said with feeling. “And I really think it’s time you called me Georgie…” “I think there is something else I ought to tell you,” Harry Thorpe said. “I was going to ask for a meeting with you and Sir Melvin next week…”

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“Oh…” I looked at him curiously and yet even before he spoke I was almost sure I already knew in my heart what he was going to say. “Does this concern Belinda Creek, Inspector?” “Yes…” He hesitated, his gaze narrowing. “I wasn’t sure if you knew…” “I don’t know, though I believe Aunt Jane may have left me a letter. I shall probably find it when I go through her things.” “What are you talking about, Thorpe?” Melvin asked. “Spit it out man!” “Would you like to tell him, Georgie?” Harry Thorpe asked. “Yes, please…” I turned to Melvin and smiled at him. “I think we both sensed it from the start – that special feeling between us. You tried to find Belinda but you couldn’t, but Inspector Thorpe knows that I am Janice Creek’s daughter and you are my father…” “Georgie…” Melvin’s face went white and then red and, for a moment, I thought he really was going to have a heart attack. “I felt it from the start… but I thought I was an old fool imagining things! My daughter…” Tears were brimming up in his eyes. “My child… my little girl…” “Yes,” I said and went to embrace him. Then I looked at Harry. “That’s what you were going to tell me, isn’t it?” “I think I shall have to let you take over my job,” he said and grinned. “You’re a natural for this, Georgie…” “Good grief,” Steve said. “No wonder I felt the vibes between you two.” “Thought I fancied her, did you?” my father asked and smiled. “I couldn’t help thinking she was the image of what I wanted Belinda to be. And I still can’t believe I’m not dreaming…” “You’re not dreaming,” I said and hugged his arm. “It’s a dream come true for both of us…” ***** “I still can’t believe that Brenda did all those terrible things,” my father said, when the police had gone and we were sitting, drinking yet more coffee in the kitchen. “She seemed such a nice, quiet little person…” “Yes, I know,” I said. “It was her niceness that threw me off the scent for a long time. I considered everyone – even you for a few seconds – but it seemed so unlikely that it could be Brenda. Then she began to make a few mistakes… and when she started to try and convince me that Miss Stratton was the killer I knew it had to be her. Yet I’d come up with so many wrong theories that I felt I couldn’t trust my own judgment.” “It was easy enough to do that,” Steve said. “At first it seemed likely that the murders were a contract killing. I thought April could have been mistaken for you. Fernando Rodan believed his brother was the intended victim…” “Yes…” I swallowed hard. I had hardly thought about Fernando for the past couple of days, but now the pain of loss came swamping back and my throat was tight with emotion. “Would you telephone him for me, Steve? He ought to know the truth before the Press gets hold of it – and I would rather not have to speak to him.” “Of course,” Steve said and smiled at me. “You know I’m always here for

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you, love.” “Thanks…” I gave him what must have been a wan smile, and kissed my father’s cheek. “You can come off that awful diet now,” I told him. “I was just trying to make sure Brenda couldn’t give you something nasty in her rich sauces.” “Thank goodness for that!” he said, and looked at me anxiously. “Are you all right, Georgie? You look a bit pale. This has all been a terrible ordeal for you.” “I’m just tired,” I said. “It’s nothing a bath and time won’t cure…” I was holding back the tears as I walked upstairs. Now that the mystery of April’s death was solved, and the fear of another murder over, I was beginning to feel very weepy. There were questions that would continue to haunt me – like whether or not Brenda had contributed to Aunt Jane’s death. I knew now that the dream I’d had of Janice Creek’s murder had most probably been a memory that I had buried deep in my subconscious. I wanted to know more about my mother and, over the coming weeks and months, I would ask my father to tell me all he remembered. In that way, perhaps, the ghosts could finally be laid. ***** Harry reached for the whisky bottle, pouring himself a double, by way of a celebration. Maybe he’d finally seen the end of the memories that had haunted him since Janice Creek’s murder. The mystery was solved at last, thank God! Relaxing in his favorite armchair, Harry sipped his drink and reflected on his life. Maybe things weren’t so bad after all. He’d let the bitterness and the doubts creep in because of the bad times – all that business of the divorce, and then being taken off the Janice Creek case. He wasn’t sure why that case had haunted him all these years, but he felt as if a load had been lifted from his shoulders, setting him free of the past. It was over, case closed. Maybe his last case, if he took the chance of early retirement he’d been offered. He hadn’t made up his mind about that yet, but the future already looked brighter. His lips curved in amusement as he thought about Georgie Langley. She was a very determined and intelligent young lady, and Sir Melvin was lucky to have her as a daughter. To think that he’d once believed that Belinda might have killed her mother. Of course it was the horror of finding her with the blood all over her that had affected him so powerfully…but he’d been in a bad way at the time. It was no wonder they’d taken him off the case, given him extended leave. He had been half mad with grief. It was odd the way the mind played tricks on you. He’d had Miss Stratton down as being a bit strange, even wondered over the years if she might have had something to do with Janice’s murder, but he had never once suspected that Brenda was her daughter. Even when he’d discovered that a woman had killed Teddy Husk, it was still Miss Stratton he’d suspected rather than Brenda. He frowned as he reflected how close the girl had come to getting away with murder. He would never have forgiven himself if she’d succeeded in killing Georgie!

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Suddenly, Harry threw back his head and laughed. There was no fool like an old fool, and he was a little in love with her. No chance of her being interested, of course, but he didn’t want that anyway. Harry had no room for an intimate relationship in his life; he was too set in his ways, too selfish. He believed they could be friends, though, and to Harry that was one hell of a step forward. Yes, the future was brighter – and he was damned if he was going to let the powers that be push him into early retirement!

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN “You are coming to the book launch this afternoon, aren’t you?” I looked at Steve anxiously, as he brought a mug of hot coffee to my desk that morning. “I’m scared to death. They’ve arranged for loads of celebrities to be there and I’m wishing myself a thousand miles away.” It was a year since April’s death, and the biography I had been asked to write was just about to be published. It had caused me some heart searching before I’d agreed to do it, but there had been so much speculation in the papers after Brenda’s death that I had realized that the true story had to be told. “You scared?” Steve raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Pull the other one, love. Georgie Langley, scared of a few celebrities? Bullshit!” “Steve! While I appreciate the sentiment, the language is hardly up to your usual standards.” I grinned at my best mate and saw the lazy smile I loved. “Daddy is coming up. He says he wouldn’t miss it for the world. He’s going to stay over – and apparently he has a surprise for me.” “Melvin is always surprising you,” Steve said. “He spoils you, Georgie.” “He says he wants to make up for all the years he couldn’t be with me,” I replied and smiled. “He’s rather a poppet, Steve. I’m glad you and he are friends now.” “I like Melvin,” Steve said, “and I think he has been good for you – you haven’t lost your edge in the journalistic field, Georgie, but you’ve lightened up a little in other ways.” “Are you saying I was a monster?” I challenged him but I wasn’t angry. Steve was right; I had changed these past months. I was not so inclined to be cynical as I had been once upon a time. “Just a little bit of a dragon now and then,” he said and grinned. “But I’ve always loved you, Georgie.” I shook my head and turned away. Steve had never mentioned us moving in together since our quarrel. We were back on our old footing and closer than ever. I had needed him these past months, and he had always been there for me. I was much more aware of Steve as an attractive man these days, but I still wanted our friendship to stay as it always had been – perhaps because I was afraid that I might lose him. I was nervous of relationships, and there was still a small hurt inside me because of Fernando. “Well, I have to go,” I said. “I have to pick up a new dress for this afternoon. It needed a small alteration, and I’m anxious about it. You know me and dresses.” “You’ll look great, you always do,” he said. “And you’ll be great – it’s a breeze, love. Trust me.” “Okay,” I said. “See you then…” I had called for a taxi, since the shop I needed to visit was at the other end of town, and I had a hair appointment to keep. It was true that I was feeling nervous about the book, but I was also feeling relaxed in myself. Writing it had been good for me, and I knew that I was finally through the dark tunnel that had yawned before me on my return to London.

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I had somehow kept going through all the bitter months of regret and pain that had dogged me, and having the project at Whitney had helped an awful lot. That, too, was nearing completion and we would be opening our first cottages next month. We now had a registered charity set up in April’s name, and I was conscious of a sense of quiet satisfaction that I had spent her money well. It was a project I was sure she would approve of, and these days she was coming back to me more and more as she always had been – my loving sister. Now, when I remembered her, it was with a smile rather than tears. I had been blessed in knowing her and I was thankful for the good years. I had sold her apartment as soon as the lawyers told me I could go ahead, keeping just a few of her things that held memories for me, and I’d used some of the money to buy a slightly larger apartment for myself. It had three bedrooms, though one of them was hardly large enough to put a bed in, but it was big enough for what I wanted. My father would be sleeping in my spare room overnight, which was something he did about once a month. I visited Whitney every other weekend and I had been instrumental in finding him a new housekeeper and a secretary. “I would have liked to have Miss Stratton back,” he’d told me at the time, “but I suppose it wouldn’t work.” “I think she wants to make a complete break with the past,” I’d replied. “She is settling in well at the hospital and she told me she intends to spend the rest of her life doing something for others – possibly in a voluntary capacity. Besides, you need someone younger and up to date with modern technology, now that you have the holiday cottages. And Helen is going to take care of the accounts for the charity, too.” I would have liked to help Miss Stratton as well, but she was proving obstinate, and seemed to have made up her mind about what she wanted to do with her life. We’d sought the advice of a good lawyer and, with some tough bargaining, they had sorted out a deal as Harry Thorpe called it. Miss Stratton had been brought before the courts, but referred for medical treatment without a prolonged trial – having pleaded manslaughter while the balance of her mind was disturbed. Harry had done what he could to help her, and was now a regular caller at my father’s house whenever I was down there. He and my father played chess together, sometimes, and they had become friends, which was rather amusing. “I’m an awkward old sod, Georgie,” he’d told me some weeks ago, “but when I know I’m wrong, I have the grace to admit it.” “I’m just glad it’s all settled,” I’d replied, “and I’m sorry I didn’t trust you more, Harry.” I was lost in my thoughts as I came out of the dress shop in Bond Street that morning and, at first, I wasn’t aware that someone was staring at me. When I began to feel the prickling at the nape of my neck, I swung round and saw that a man was standing a short distance away. He was staring at me so intently that I became flustered and turned away, grabbing a taxi that had just unloaded its passenger. All I

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wanted to do was get away! It was only as I looked back and saw the way he was staring after the taxi, almost forlornly, that I realized I had been foolish. He hadn’t meant me any harm, but it had been such a shock to see him standing there that I had panicked. What was Fernando doing in London? I hadn’t spoken to him since that last moment when we’d said goodbye. I had wanted to a dozen times… going so far as to pick up my phone and start dialing, but I had always drawn back at the last moment, knowing that it would be foolish to start something that was going to end the same way it already had. I had thought I was over him, but seeing him there had set up a familiar longing inside me and I almost regretted running away. But that was stupid. It was over, and there was no way I wanted it to start up again. ***** The book launch was well under way when I saw him, standing a few feet away talking to my editor. My heart started to race wildly. What the hell was Fernando doing here? He came over to me a few minutes later, his dark eyes thoughtful as he looked at me. “How are you, Georgie?” “Nervous – but bearing up.” “You look wonderful. I’ve read the book. It’s good.” “Why are you here today?” “Your publisher invited me. They sent me an early copy of the book – to make sure there was nothing in it I objected to.” “I wasn’t told that.” I frowned. “I’ll be having a word with my editor about that!” “Same old Georgie.” Fernando smiled. “Don’t let fame spoil you.” “Who’s famous? This is just a nine-day wonder.” “I very much doubt that,” Fernando said. “You will have a best seller on your hands – and a lot of people beating a path to your door.” “That doesn’t mean I shall answer it.” “You should. You have talent, Georgie. You shouldn’t waste your chances.” “Maybe I have some talent. How are things with you? Is your son better?” “He died last month,” Fernando said, and the bleak look in his eyes struck me to the heart. “I am so sorry. I thought they could do something for leukemia these days?” “He developed secondary cancers,” Fernando said harshly, his face grey with grief. “In the end it was very quick. It is devastating to watch your child die.” “Yes, of course it must be. You must be heartbroken.” My own heart was bleeding for him and any bitterness I might have felt at our parting all those months ago was lost as I saw his pain. “I really am sorry.” “I should like to speak to you alone,” he said. “May I come to see you this evening?” “Not this evening I’m afraid. Daddy is taking me to a show. Perhaps tomorrow?”

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“I have to fly to New York later this evening – but I may be able to get back for your charity opening next month – if I would be welcome?” “Yes, of course you’re welcome – if you would like to come? Do you have the details?” “I spoke to Sir Melvin earlier. He invited me, thought I might like to visit – because of Juan.” “Yes. I haven’t forgotten. You lost your brother too. It was a terrible tragedy for all of us, Fernando.” “I’ve been told you were very brave that night,” he said, “but, then, I would have expected that – you always were.” “Thank you,” I said. “You will always be welcome at Whitney if you want to come.” “Thank you, Georgie.” He smiled and my heart did a back flip. “I have to leave. I have another appointment before I catch my flight. Good luck with the book.” I nodded, watching as he walked away. Why did Fernando want to talk to me so particularly? Steve came up to me a few minutes later. “Everyone seems to think the book is a success, Georgie. Someone asked me what you were going to do next.” “Take a holiday I think.” “That’s something new, isn’t it?” He frowned. “What did Rodan want? You’re not going away with him, are you?” “No, I am going alone,” I said. “I have a lot of thinking to do, Steve. I’ve been on autopilot for months now. It was too painful to let myself think – but I’m through that now. I have some decisions to make.” Steve nodded. His expression was serious, but he didn’t make any comments. “I heard from Petra this morning,” he said. “She invited me to her wedding.” “She’s getting married again then?” “Yes – apparently it’s the real thing this time. I’m glad for her.” “Yes. Perhaps she’ll stop ringing you every day now.” “Oh, she hasn’t done that for a while,” he said, giving me an odd look. “You’ve been too wrapped up in your own world to know what was going on around you. Well, I have to go, Georgie. I’m meeting someone – I’ve been headhunted. They want me to be the editor of a new magazine in America. It’s rather flattering really. And the salary is mind boggling…” “You didn’t tell me!” “Well, you had other things on your mind. But like you said, Georgie – it’s time to take stock of the future and maybe move on.” I watched in dismay as Steve walked away. What would I do if he went to America? I might have work of my own to do, but Steve was my rock. I supposed I had rather taken him for granted, but he hadn’t seemed to mind – or had he? My agent came up to me. She was grinning like a Cheshire cat. “You’ve cracked it, Georgie. They all want you now! I’ve had half a dozen ideas put to me this afternoon – two celebs want you to write their biographies and I’ve been hearing that you should write a novel. Big time money is being bandied about!”

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“Fiction?” I pulled a wry face. “Does that mean someone thinks I made half April’s story up?” “No – just that you’ve shown yourself to be one of the great writers, Georgie. It’s a compliment. Look happy – smile, damn you! A smile isn’t going to kill you, is it?” “I’m ecstatic,” I said gloomily. “I’ll think about any serious offers but I’m not promising anything.” “Give yourself time – take a holiday like normal folk.” “Yes, I think I shall,” I agreed, and saw that she was surprised. “That’s exactly what I plan to do for the next couple of weeks…” ***** I drove myself, by easy stages, down to Cornwall that weekend. It was ages since I’d been down that way… a half-forgotten holiday with Bill, Jane and April. We had gone touring, stopping at various small hotels for a couple of nights before moving on, and that’s what I intended to do this time. I had considered jetting off to a more exotic location, but I needed to think and my mind was clearer when I walked. Cornwall was good for walking, for stretching my body and my mind. I visited many of the little villages that I had gone to as a child, reliving the happy times I had known without bitterness or regret. I had lost several people I loved, either to death or a pitiful illness, but now it was as if they had come back to me, and I knew that you never really lose those you care for because they live on in your heart. April couldn’t die, while I lived, because she was inside of me. I was young and I had much to be thankful for. I was one of the lucky ones. Brenda had never been given my chances. Perhaps, if she had, her jealousy would never have driven her to do those terrible things. None of us knew what we might be capable of doing if we were hurt badly enough… I wondered what it must be like to be driven to extremes. To hate enough to kill. What was it like inside the mind of a murderer? What a great idea for a book title! An idea was beginning to form in my mind… for a book about murderers and what made them kill… what pushed them over the edge. What did they really feel and think? It probably wasn’t the kind of book my editor and agent had envisaged, but it was beginning to excite me. I could already see it taking shape in my mind, and I wanted to talk to Steve. I wanted to kick a few ideas back and forth with him over a coffee, or a glass of chilled, white Chablis. I tried ringing him, but he wasn’t answering and his machine kept telling me the tape was full. Having decided I’d had enough of being alone, I drove home to Whitney. My father was, of course, delighted to see me. “It’s a good thing you’re back,” he said. “Helen wants to check out a couple of things for the grand opening next weekend.” “Yes, of course. I thought I might stay here for a bit. I’ve got an idea for a book I want to work on, and I might do quite a bit of it down here.”

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“Nothing would suit me better,” he said, looking pleased. “By the way, Steve left a message for you. He has gone to New York, but he says he will definitely be back for next weekend.” “Oh, that’s why he isn’t answering,” I said. “I wanted to talk to him about something, but I suppose it will keep.” I was frustrated at being unable to reach Steve. I’d been going to ask if he would collaborate with me on the new book. It was very much his sort of thing, and he could be of enormous help to me with the research. Obviously he had found the job offer interesting. I supposed it would be a good career move for him. He was never going to go far where he was and I was being selfish to hope that he would turn the offer down. It was all right for me. I had exciting prospects. My book was selling even better than we’d expected, and I was beginning to see that I might have several more books in my head. Steve had nowhere to go in his job. He was already editor and part-owner of the magazine, which was never going to have a huge circulation. I couldn’t blame Steve if he felt he needed a change, but I would miss him. I was already missing him! How was it that I hadn’t noticed the way my feelings for Steve were changing? I had realized that I found him very attractive these days, with his habit of looking so serious and then suddenly grinning at me, making me laugh. Had he always been the sexy, entertaining man I knew now – or had Steve changed too? Had I been falling in love with him without realizing it? I had been so wrapped up in my own concerns, writing the book, getting to know my father and, of course, the charity. As the day of our opening drew closer there wasn’t much time to think of anything else. As well as the children’s corner at the farm, and the riding stables, we had added an area with swings and a climbing frame. Plans to build a tennis court and a small indoor swimming pool were with the council now, and we were expecting a favorable result. For the day itself, I had asked a few celebrities down and we were giving them lunch at the house. A marquee had been set up in the gardens to serve food and drink to the public, who had been invited to the opening day. We wanted everyone to be happy about what we were doing here. So far we hadn’t received many complaints. I walked down to the holiday cottages that morning, and met Rose coming out. She and Greg were now working for me as caretakers, and I’d had their home repaired, the rent being waived as a part of their wages. “It’s a lovely day for it, Georgie,” Rose said happily. “When are our first guests coming?” “Tomorrow. We thought it best to get all the fuss over first.” “It’s going to be exciting,” she said. “Me and Greg love looking after things for you.” “You’re doing a good job,” I said. “Come and have some food up at the marquee later, won’t you?” “We’ll be there,” she promised. “We wouldn’t miss this for anything.” I smiled, feeling pleased with the way things were going as I walked back to

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the house. My heart raced when I saw the expensive sports car parked in the driveway. Fernando was early! He was in the study with my father. He had been looking at the plans we’d made for various future projects, and turned with a smile as I entered. “Ah, there you are, Georgie,” my father said. “I was just telling Mr. Rodan about our plans.” “I think what you’re doing is very worthwhile,” Fernando said, his eyes warm with approval. “I was just asking Sir Melvin if he thought you would allow me to make a donation?” “The April Langley Trust is a registered charity,” I said. “Anyone can give money – it will be gratefully received. The more we have the more we can do – not just here, but at other centers we might build in the future.” “Then I shall,” he said. “May I speak to you alone, Georgie?” “Yes, of course,” my father said before I could reply. “I have to speak to Helen about something. I’ll see you a little later on, Georgie.” “Yes…” I was staring at Fernando. My heart was behaving oddly. What was he going to say to me? “Do you hate me?” he said when my father had left us. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. You went through a terrible time and I abandoned you to your fate.” “Why on earth should I hate you? You couldn’t have done anything other than you did, Fernando. Your son and wife both needed you. I would have hated myself if you had neglected them for my sake. I had my father and I had Steve – and Harry Thorpe was there if I’d needed him. Besides, I’m pretty tough.” “Arianne has asked me for a separation,” he said. “I’ve agreed, of course. Our marriage was over years ago in all but name. She will keep our house and I’ll move out. I could buy something in this country – or anywhere in the world. My work is in America, of course, but travel isn’t a problem…” “Not for you…” I felt my chest becoming tight. “Why are you telling me this, Fernando?” “Don’t you know? I love you, Georgie. I’ve never stopped loving you. I want us to be together.” He moved towards me. I didn’t resist as he reached out for me, drawing me close. His mouth took possession of mine as he kissed me hungrily. I did not resist, but I did not respond either. Fernando let me go and stood back. He looked at me uncertainly. “Are you angry?” “No, I’m not angry.” I sighed as I saw the hurt in his eyes. “It is over, Fernando. What we had was exciting… special… but it was a part of that time. I’ve moved on now.” “But you said you loved me?” “I did love you – perhaps a part of me will always love you. But I’m not the same person. I’ve changed, Fernando. I can’t explain exactly how or why, but I know I have.” “Love doesn’t die just like that,” he said and I sensed he was angry now. “It festers inside you, hurting and eating away at you. You couldn’t have loved me or you wouldn’t walk away now. We can be together, Georgie. I won’t let you down

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again. I promise.” “No, we can’t be together,” I said softly. “It would never have worked – not then and not now. Your life isn’t mine, Fernando.” “You don’t object to making money with your book!” “I earned it – and I didn’t do it for the money. I’m not knocking the rewards. I like to buy things sometimes, but I’ll never have the kind of money you have, Fernando. I can’t live your way – the holiday we took together taught me that.” “I should have taken you to Disneyland!” “Yes, perhaps you should have.” I relented as I saw the hurt in his eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It was a wonderful trip. I shall never forget it – or you, Fernando. But I said goodbye to you in my heart a long time ago.” “That’s your final word?” A little nerve was flicking in his cheek. “Yes, it is. I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry,” he said and smiled, making my heart catch. “Just be happy. You were special to me, Georgie. I shall never forget you either.” He kissed my cheek and walked out, leaving me alone. I stood where I was for several minutes, fighting the regret that inevitably washed through me. I knew that I had done the right thing for both of us, but it still hurt. Fernando was right – love didn’t die, it just went on lingering in the backwaters of your mind, even when it was over. After a few minutes, I lifted my head and smiled. I had work to do! ***** Steve arrived to the sound of clapping and cheers, just as the ribbon was being cut by a very famous, and extremely handsome, football star. I had begun to think he wasn’t coming and my heart did a back flip as I saw him. He was wearing a smart, pale grey suit and looked very distinguished, very confident. “I’m sorry I nearly missed it,” he said when I got to him a little later. “I arrived home in the early hours after a five-hour delay at Kennedy Airport – and I overslept.” “It doesn’t matter,” I said and smiled at him. “You managed to get here and that’s what counts.” He nodded, glancing round. “I see you managed to persuade quite a few celebrities down for the day – but you’re one yourself now. I understand there’s talk of a film deal coming up?” “Yes, so my agent says, but it’s not definite yet. I wanted to talk to you about a new book, Steve.” He raised his brows, his grey eyes serious and thoughtful. I thought how dear and precious that look was to me, and how much I would miss this man if he went out of my life. “So the holiday helped you to sort out a few things then?” “Yes. I’m feeling pretty clear about what I want to do with my life now, Steve.” “Good. So am I…” His jaw had tightened. He glanced round again. “I thought Rodan was coming down today?”

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“Fernando was here earlier. He couldn’t stay for the opening, but he gave Daddy a generous donation for the charity.” “He can afford it.” “Yes – but it was still generous.” “Yeah…” Steve frowned. His eyes were wintry now and I sensed that he was angry with me. “It looks like the job in New York is mine if I want it. They practically begged me to go.” “Are you going to take it?” I asked and my heart was beating very fast. I didn’t understand Steve in this mood. “I might as well,” he said and his eyes were smoldering now. “I don’t have much reason to hang around here – do I?” “What do you mean?” “You know what I mean, Georgie.” He started to stride towards the house very fast. I stared after him for a moment, and then called to him to stop. He ignored me. I had to run to catch up with him. “Steve! Don’t walk out on me. Talk to me!” “I think we’ve said everything. You don’t need me now that Rodan is back in your life. You have success, fame … everything you want.” “No. You don’t understand…” We were inside the house now and I was breathing hard. Helen was showing some of the guests into the drawing room for drinks before lunch. “Steve – we have to talk. In the study…” “I’m leaving, Georgie.” “Get your ass in the study, damn you!” He stared at me for a moment, and then grinned. That smile was totally fascinating and very sexy. Why hadn’t I realized it years ago? I must have been blind. My heart was racing, my stomach beginning to tie itself in knots. “You ask so charmingly, Georgie, how could I refuse?” “I’m not asking you, mulehead! I’m telling.” “Yes, boss!” He gave me a mock Nazi salute. I shut the door behind us and locked it. “That looks serious,” Steve said, a glint of amusement in his eyes. He was too damned attractive, and I had suddenly woken up to the fact that I might lose the most important person in my world. “Are you afraid I’ll make a bolt for it?” “You might in your present mood,” I said. “Tell me about this job in New York, Steve. Is it important to you? Would you feel you had lost the chance of a lifetime if you didn’t take it?” “Truthfully?” His eyes seemed to scorch me as I nodded. My mouth felt dry as I waited, my life in his hands. I looked at his long, slender fingers and shivered as I imagined him touching me, stroking me. “I don’t think it’s me. I turned them down.” “You turned them down?” For a moment relief washed over me, but then I knew there was still something threatening our relationship. “Then why were you letting me believe you were going to take it, Steve? Why are you angry with me?” “Because I turned that particular job down doesn’t mean I shall keep things

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the way they are,” he said. “You aren’t the only one with ambitions to write a book, Georgie.” “Oh, Steve, I think that’s great. What is your book going to be about?” “Nothing very glamorous,” he said. “It came out of a pamphlet I was asked to write about child poverty worldwide – and now there’s talk of a book contract to do the same thing but on a larger scale.” “I think that’s wonderful, Steve. I really do.” “There’s something else… I’ve been asked to work for an international charity… which would mean quite a bit of traveling.” “Would your base be here or New York?” “Probably a few months here, a few months there…” Steve’s gaze intensified, his eyes sending shivers up and down my spine. “Why do you ask?” “I’m being selfish,” I said. “When you said you might go to New York to live, I got to thinking… about how I was going to manage without my best mate.” “Best mate isn’t enough, Georgie, not for me, not any more.” “Maybe it doesn’t have to be…” We were standing next to my father’s desk. I picked up a pair of scissors, took hold of Steve’s tie and cut across it, dropping the ends into a wastepaper bin. “There – that’s better.” “What did you do that for?” Steve looked bewildered. “That was pure silk. Petra gave it to me to thank me for helping her through a bad time.” “Maybe that’s why I didn’t like it,” I said as I began to loosen the remains of the ruined tie and remove it. I opened the neck of his shirt one button and then another. “That is very much better. You need to lighten up a little, Steve – and I don’t have much room for ties at my place when you stop over. It will have to be shirts and slacks, I’m afraid. No suits and ties.” There was a gleam in his eyes now. “Am I going to be stopping over at your place, Georgie?” “Oh, I should think so – it would be easier when you come flying back from wherever in the world you’ve been, wouldn’t it? Of course, sometimes, I might stay over at yours for a couple of days – whatever.” I shrugged carelessly. I was unbuttoning his shirt as I spoke, and I slipped my hands underneath, stroking the satin softness of his back, feeling the hardness of perfectly toned muscles. I felt the shudder run through him and experienced an answering shaft of desire as I gazed up at him invitingly. “Well, aren’t you going to kiss me?” “Just what do you think you’re doing, Georgie?” he asked, and the look he gave me made me move closer. “I think, in some circles, it’s probably called seduction,” I said. “I would call it catching up on something that is long overdue.” “And whose fault is that?” “Some bolshie bitch who didn’t know when she had it good, I expect.” He was still staring at me uncertainly so I reached up and kissed him on the lips. As the fire shot through us both, Steve pulled me hard against him, deepening the kiss into something that left us both gasping and looking at each other with surprise and pleasure. “So – what do you think?” Steve grinned. “I think you have great ideas, Georgie, but lousy timing. Any

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minute now someone is going to come banging on that door to tell you you’re wanted at lunch.” “So? Let them? Live a little dangerously.” Steve shook his head, his mouth curving in a wicked smile. “Not this time, my darling. I’ve thought about having you on sandy beaches and between silk sheets. I’ve fantasized about a quickie on the office desk or up against the wall down some dark alley… but not in three seconds flat in your father’s study with someone banging at the door. No way, not for our first time! I’ve been waiting for you for a hell of a long time, Georgie, and I’m not prepared to rush it.” “Tell me more,” I invited, fascinated by this new insight into his thoughts. “Why did I never get to hear what was going on in that inventive mind of yours, Steve?” “You know why,” he said. “You wanted a friend, Georgie, and I was prepared to be there when you were vulnerable. That was then, now I want more, much more – and I want it my way. We’ll find a place we both like, big enough for us both to work at home - and move in together…” “Yes, boss!” I laughed up at him. “Is this the new, masterful Steve I can expect in future?” He smiled down at me, and I felt the warmth of certainty spread through me. What a bloody fool I had been not to see it long ago! Steve was more than my friend; he was my soul mate. He was a part of me and I of him. I might meet other men who could make me love them for a while but, without Steve, I would only ever be halfalive. “Steve…” I began as someone tried the door. “Damn…” “Are you in there, Georgie?” my father’s voice asked. “People are looking for you, love. Are you okay?” “Never better,” I said. “I just have some business to finish. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” Steve’s eyes were gleaming. “And what business is that?” he asked. “Just this,” I kissed him softly on the mouth. “I love you, Steve – and whatever you want is okay with me – but can we leave here as soon as all the fuss is over?” “I love you,” he said. “And you took the words right out of my mouth…”

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