‘Good, and will you call me if you find anything? It’s interesting to me or I wouldn’t have spent so much time on it already, and, I might add, with no fifty bucks a day.’
The doorbell rang. He walked her to the cab. ‘It’s paid for, so don’t worry. And if you need me, call me.’
She smiled her thanks and he remained watching her until the cab turned out of the drive.
Back in the den, he picked up the dirty ashtray piled high with cigarette stubs — fifteen. He tipped it into the waste basket, then straightened the leather cushions, and went upstairs to the bedroom.
Dilly was sleeping, her arms entwined round a pillow. She hardly stirred when he slipped into bed and turned off his bedside lamp. He rested his head on his arms and thought about Lorraine. There was an arrogance about her that attracted him and a directness he admired. There was also, he detected, a deep, hidden pain which, in his professional opinion, was about to erupt.
Chapter 12
Lorraine asked the cab driver to take her to Beverly Glen. She would meet any extra costs. By the time they parked outside Janklow’s house, she was already annoyed with herself for not asking Fellows if the name meant anything to him or had any connection to Brad Thorburn. She was also confused as to why she had told the cab driver to take her there.
She stood a short distance from the gates. The dog was still loose, sleeping about ten feet inside. He woke and growled, his tawny eyes daring her to lay so much as a hand on the gate. As the rental car had been towed away, nothing indicated that Rosie had been back. The house was in darkness, shutters closed on the lower-floor windows, and the drive was empty. It seemed ominously quiet and yet there was nothing creepy about the property, quite the opposite. Lorraine stepped closer and her body set off the automatic security lights. The gardens, the lower storey of the house, the gates, even the road she was standing in, were suddenly bathed in brilliant light.
She started back to the taxi when she heard someone calling. She paused and looked back.
‘Bruno must have set the security lights off again. Bruno?’
Brad Thorburn, wearing shorts and flip-flops, appeared at the front door. The dog ran to him, standing on its hind legs to lick his face. Brad ruffled its fur and scanned the garden for an intruder, but his voice was mocking when he clapped his hands and said to the dog, ‘See them off, go on, good boy.’
Lorraine whipped round as the cab driver tooted his horn. ‘You want to stay here much longer? Only I got another fare to pick up.’
She had her hand on the door when the gates opened. Thorburn looked over the road and was about to close the gates, when he looked again. ‘Hey! Were you at the college earlier?’
‘Sorry,’ Lorraine said innocently. ‘Are you talking to me?’
He nodded. ‘I was playing with Andrew Fellows.’
Lorraine smiled. ‘What a coincidence.’
She turned back to the driver. ‘Give me five minutes.’
‘You got a problem?’ Thorburn asked.
Lorraine walked over to join him. ‘No, not really. I was supposed to drop in to collect something for a friend of mine. I thought it was number three eight hundred but I must have been mistaken.’
‘Do you need to make a call? You can use my phone.’
‘I won’t be a second,’ she called to the driver, who gave a surly nod. She grinned at Thorburn. ‘My drivers fed up as we’ve been up and down the Glen. I didn’t like to start ringing doorbells, with all the security around here.’
Thorburn pressed the gates closed and released the dog, which immediately launched itself at Lorraine, wagging its tail and slobbering. ‘He’s not quite got it together yet, he’s only a puppy. This way...’
The hallway alone took her breath away. It was an antique mixture of Baroque furniture, massive chandeliers and gilt mirrors, but it was not oppressive because the pieces were not crowded together. The hallway was of such a grand scale, it could easily have accommodated a number of vehicles parked side by side.
‘Phone’s on the table just through that arch. I’m Brad Thorburn.’
‘Lorraine Page.’
He walked off and Lorraine went towards the wide archway. The room was sunken, with deep white sofas and a single glass-topped coffee table with a basket of flowers the like of which Lorraine had only seen in magazines. The paintings were all huge and the white telephone was the smallest object in the room. She called Rosie.
‘Hi, it’s me.’
Without a pause for breath, Rosie gave her a tongue lashing — how worried she was, that she was just about to call Jake and get a search party out looking for her.
‘I’m sorry, I got lost. I’ll come straight home now.’
Rosie tried to tell her about the photo session but Lorraine could hear the sound of the flip-flops across the white marble hallway.
‘I won’t bother tonight, I’ve got a taxi waiting. Goodnight.’
She replaced the receiver before Rosie could utter another word.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ He had put on a loose white caftan over his shorts.
‘Ah, no, I’d better go, but thanks for the offer and the use of your phone.’ She could feel herself blushing, so she dipped her head.
‘Did you go over to Andrew’s?’
‘Yes, we had a relaxed dinner, just Dilly and Andrew.’
He smiled. ‘I’ve offered her money to take that painting down. I know you’ve seen it because you won’t look at me.’
She hadn’t even thought of the painting, it was him she couldn’t look at. They walked towards the front door, which was still ajar. As they stepped onto the porch, her taxi drove off.
‘Since your transport has departed, will you change your mind?’
‘No, thanks all the same, but if you could call me another cab...’
‘Don’t you drive?’
‘Yes, I do but I also used to drink. The two didn’t go together. Now I don’t drink or drive.’
He took her elbow. ‘Come and sit down. Let me fix you a soft drink, or tea or coffee, if you’d prefer?’
Brad took her into the kitchen. It was like a movie set — more appliances and high-tech equipment than she’d seen in any restaurant. He poured her a glass of iced water, then crossed to a wall phone, asking her what she did for a living. She told him she worked part-time for an art gallery. He turned to look at her. ‘Anyone I’d know of?’
‘I doubt it, it’s not very successful.’ She knew she had to concentrate on using this situation and told herself to stop acting like a tongue-tied teenager. This was too good an opportunity to pass over. Maybe she did fancy him but she had to ignore it. It was unlikely he’d have any interest in her — Dilly had said that all his women were young, perfect beauties. But she was sure, unless she was kidding herself, that — wasn’t he putting out signals? She gave him a hooded glance as he picked up the receiver but he turned and caught her looking at him. He didn’t smile but met her eyes and then his attention was drawn to the phone.
‘The cab will be here in about fifteen minutes.’
‘Thanks.’ She decided to start doing the job she was there for. ‘You have a wonderful home, do you live here alone?’
‘No, my brother’s here as well. You want me to show you around?’ Politely, he led her through one vast ornate room after another. He was obviously uninterested, so they viewed each quickly and Lorraine hardly said a word. It was not until they went upstairs that his closeness made her feel uncomfortable. He touched her elbow as he showed off the master bedroom, with floor-to-ceiling white silk curtains that Barbara Stanwyck might have draped herself in. It lacked the freshness of the other rooms.
‘This room’s different,’ Lorraine said, and walked further inside, her feet sinking into thick-piled, soft rose-coloured carpets.