She laughed. "How's George?"
"Unmentionable. He's left me for a Filipino chef."
"I'm sorry. Are you surviving?"
"Of course. Don't I always? Now, tell me why you rang. I feel in my bones there was a reason, and it wasn't just to hear my dulcet tones."
She raised her knees and propped her elbows on them. "I want you to phone Leo's parents and say you need to contact Leo or Meg Harris as a matter of urgency."
"With reference to what?"
Something terrible... "Can you invent an excuse? Say you're an old school friend of Leo's, that you're only in the country for a week and that you want to meet up with him. He went to Eton, if they ask. I just want you to try and find out where they are, without letting on you know me. Is that okay with you? I want to be able to talk to them and show there are no hard feelings. Could you do that for me?"
"Sure. What's his parents' number?"
"I don't know, but you can get it through directory inquiries, because I did it myself once. It's A. Wallader, Downton Court, Ashwell, Guildford, and if he answers, it's Sir Anthony and if she answers, it's Lady Wallader. And Dean, whatever they say, you must ring me back tonight. Please. I don't care what they tell you, you must ring me back. Okay?"
"No problem," he said breezily.
The phone rang twenty minutes later. Jinx picked it up with trembling hands and cradled it against her face. "Jinx Kingsley."
"It's Dean," he said carefully.
"They're dead, aren't they?"
There was a short silence. "Why did you get me to make the call if you already knew?"
"But I didn't," she said quietly. "I guessed. Oh God-and I was so hoping I was wrong. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I didn't know who else to ask. Who did you speak to?"
"His father. He was pretty upset."
She rushed into self-justification. "The police came this afternoon and asked me questions about them, but they wouldn't say why. And I thought, my God, they're dead and no one's telling me." She chewed her lower lip. "Did Anthony say what happened to them?"
There was another silence. "Look, love, half an hour ago I thought you were unconscious; then I find you aren't. I don't know what to do. I phoned back because I promised I would, but let me talk to your doctor in the morning. It'd make me a damn sight happier, it really would."
"No," she said coldly. "Tell me now." She thought she heard his nervous finger rattle the receiver rest. "And don't hang up on me, Dean, because I swear to God you'll be out of a job if you do." Oh Jesus! She sounded like her father ... No matter how much she tried to deny it, his tyranny and passion were in her, too...
"You don't have to threaten me," he said in mild reproof. "I'm only trying to do what's best."
"I know and I'm sorry, but I'm slowly going mad here. I must know what's happened." She waited but he didn't respond. "Okay," she said abruptly, "then I'm calling in your debts." Her eyes narrowed. "Just remember that the only reason anyone feels confident about you running the studio in my absence is because I've encouraged you to make a name for yourself along with me. I didn't have to do that. I could have done what everybody else does, and put your work out under the studio's name. You owe me for that at least."
"I owe you a great deal more, Jinx, which is why I'm shitting bricks this end. I don't want to make things worse for you." He heard her indrawn breath. "Okay, take it easy, I will tell you, but you must promise me you won't do anything silly afterwards."
"Do you mean try and kill myself?''
"Yes."
"I promise," she said wearily. "But if I was desperate enough to want to do it, then giving my word in advance wouldn't stop me. It's only fair you should know that."
Perversely, he found this honesty more reassuring than the pledge. "Sir Anthony said Leo and his girlfriend had been murdered. Their bodies were found last Thursday in a wood near Winchester but the police think they were killed the week before."
She clenched her fist against her heart. "Which day the week before?"
"The Monday, according to Sir Anthony, but I'm not sure he knows. He really was very upset."
Ice settled in a frozen block inside her. "What else did he say?"
"Nothing much."
"Did he mention me?"
He didn't answer.
"Please, Dean."
"He said Leo had been engaged to a woman whose husband died the same way."
She stared at her terrible image in the mirror.
"Are you still there?"
"Yes," she said. "I'm sorry I made you do it. It wasn't fair."
"Don't worry about it." But the line had gone dead and his words fell on deaf ears.
THE NIGHTINGALE CLINIC, LAVERSTOCK,
SALISBURY, WILTSHIRE
one page sent via fax (handwritten) to:
Adam Kingsley
Hellingdon Hall
Nr. Fordingbridge, HAMPSHIRE.
Date: Sunday, 26th June, 1994
Time: 20:50
Dear Mr. Kingsley,
Is there any chance of your coming to the clinic tomorrow morning or afternoon for an informal chat about Jinx's progress? She is, as I am sure you are aware, a private person, and finds it difficult to talk about herself, but it would be helpful for me to have a clearer picture of her history and background. I have some problems understanding what compelled her to make an attempt on her life when she presents as a self-reliant and, in the oircumstances of her tragic widowhood, well-adjusted personality. I would welcome your views on this. One idea I'd like to discuss is the possibility of a joint session where, under my guidance, you and Jinx can explore any rifts that may have developed between you. She is clearly fond of you, but retains a certain ambivalence following the death of her husband. I have tried telephoning but, in the absence of a reply, may I suggest that you call first thing tomorrow with a convenient time. Please be assured that I know how busy you are and wouldn't trouble you if I didn't believe it to be important.
With best wishes,
Alan Protheroe
HELLINGDON HALL,
NR. FORDINGBRIDGE
HAMPSHIRE
facsimile: 27.6.1994 09:45 *one page sent
Dear Mr. Protheroe,
If the brief you were given is beyond your capabilities, please advise me immediately. I understood my daughter would be allowed to recover at her own speed and in her own time.
Yours sincerely,
Adam Kingsley
*12*
MONDAY, 27TH JUNE, HO FORENSIC LAB, HAMPSHIRE-9:30 A.M.
The Reverend Charles Harris and his wife came to view the remains of their daughter together. It was a more harrowing identification than Leo's because Mrs. Harris was present. Frank Cheever had done his best to persuade her to remain at home in the company of a policewoman, but she had insisted on seeing Meg for herself. She had worn her grief with calm composure throughout the car journey, but faced with the terrible sight of her daughter, she broke down. "This is Jinx Kingsley's doing," she cried. "I warned Meg what would happen if she took Leo away from her."
"Hush, Caroline," said her husband, putting his arm about her shoulders. "I'm sure this has nothing to do with Jinx."
Her anger was immediate and terrible. "You stupid man," she screamed, thrusting him from her. "This is your baby lying here, not some parishioner's child. Look at her, Charles. Your Meggy, your darling, reduced to this." She held a fluttering hand to her lips. "Oh GOD!" The word exploded from her with hatred. "How can you be so blind? First Russell. Now Leo and Meg." She rounded on Superintendent Cheever. "I've been so worried. From the moment she said Leo had left Jinx for her, I've been so worried. She's a murderer. She and her beastly father. They're both murderers."