'And the next day I got a phone call from a man who said he was in the Home Office Department dealing with pensions. It was nothing he said, just an inquiry about length of qualifying service. But when we got that sorted he chatted on, all very friendly, about how he was sure I knew I was still bound by the Secrets Act and that any breach of confidentiality would certainly mean loss of pension rights and possible prosecution.'
Pascoe whistled. 'So you forgot about the tabloids? Very wise.
Someone at the Home Office must have big ears.'
'And big muscles,' she said grimly. 'The Pension Department don't have that kind of clout, I tell you. And I've been thinking ever since, if they were putting the screws on at that sort of level just on account of a few reminiscences, then that letter must be really valuable.'
'In which case you should think yourself lucky they don't know about it,' said Pascoe, who was beginning to suspect it was something he didn't really want to know about either. 'So you reckon it's really valuable? Except that you haven't got anyone you dare try to sell it to, which makes it worthless.'
'I've got you,' she said.
'Maybe. How much are you asking?'
She looked at him like a pork butcher in a meat market.
'Five hundred,' she said.
'Come on! Who do you think I am?'
'Mebbe you should speak to your Mr Dalziel. You're only his rep, Percy tells me.'
'Does he?' said Pascoe. 'Then perhaps he's also told you that if Mr Dalziel had come himself, by now he'd not only have had that letter in his pocket, he'd likely have had your pension too!'
From her reaction, it appeared that at the very least Pollock had suggested he would be a much softer option, for she said immediately, 'All right. Four hundred.' 'One,' said Pascoe. 'Three.' ‘One-fifty.'
'Two-fifty. And I'll tell you what. You can see the letter and if you don't think it's of any interest, give me it back with a tenner for my trouble and we'll forget the whole thing.' It was an offer hard to refuse, though his heart sank at the bill of expenses he was going to present Dalziel with. He said, 'I'll need chapter and verse. What I mean is, I want to know the lot, how you got hold of it, everything you know about the circumstances surrounding it.' She thought, nodded.
'Deal,' she said. 'Right,' he said. 'For a start, this visitor Kohler had. What was his name?' 'Not his. Her,' she said. Her?' 'That's right. Her name was Marsh. Mavis Marsh.'
FIVE
'We all have our various ways of gaining a livelihood. Some of us have damp ways, and some of us have dry ways.' For her first twenty-four hours in New York Cissy Kohler had not left the apartment.
Most of the time she lay on her bed, blowing skeins of smoke at the ceiling. Jay raised no objection. He spent most of the time on the telephone. The morning of the second day passed in much the same way except that this time when she heard Jay's voice talking in the next room, she picked up the bedside phone, covered the mouthpiece and listened. 'Look, I tell you, she hasn't written any memoirs, I've checked her stuff.' 'Couldn't she have smuggled them out?' A man's voice, deep, almost growling. 'Maybe. I doubt it. It's no problem. I know guys, give 'em a couple of facts and a week, can write stuff so authentic she won't know she didn't do it herself.' 'OK. So long as we don't find something showing up somewhere else. Exclusivity is what we put our money in. Feeling here is we want to go with this soon as we can. We've been getting a bit of pressure from some strong people, nothing we can't cope with yet, but the sooner we get this in the public domain, the better.' 'Say anything too soon and you'll have wall-to-wall reporters. This has got to be private.' 'So why not take her round to the clinic now, get it over with before he snuffs it?'
'I've told you, he'll go home to die, I know that for sure. She can get to Bellmain at home, but she wouldn't get past first base at the Allerdale. It's like the Pentagon. My way is best, believe me.' 'When I stop believing you, you'll know. Believe me. Keep in touch.' She was lying on her back reading her Bible when Jay came in. He said flatly, 'You were listening.' 'Yes.' 'Shit. Listen, Cissy, I've got to talk to these guys like that.' 'Who are they, Jay?' 'Hesperides. It's a finance corporation. They back a lot of media enterprises. They've invested a lot of money in you. Cissy.' 'Don't you mean they've invested a lot of money in you, Jay?' 'I suppose. But I needed that money to get you out.' 'So you made promises? And to Sempernel too?
You're pretty free with promises, Jay. What about those you made to me?' 'You'll get what I promised, Ciss. Listen, I'll be upfront with you, I owe these guys. They backed another project I set up, only it didn't work out. Now I've got to keep them sweet, or else…' 'Or else they'll want their money back? Give it to them. Tell them we'll pay them off when I get my compensation.' 'They don't just want their money back, Ciss. They want it back times a couple of million. And they're very concerned about their corporate image. By which I mean they think that anyone who jerks them around and stays healthy is a bad advertisement.' She thought about this, then shook her head. 'I'm sorry, but I don't see there's anything I can do. I don't even know yet if I'm grateful to you. Most of the time I doubt it. After you've done what you promised, maybe I'll have room in my mind to think things through. Meanwhile, don't let these people near me, for I won't lie. The best I can give is silence.' 'That's all I want,' he said, smiling. Their gazes locked for a moment, then he pulled back his focus to take in the whole of her face. 'Cissy, you look terrible!' he said. 'You mustn't stay stuck in here all the time. We've got to get you out in the fresh air.' 'In New York? Has some kind of miracle happened since I was last here?' 'Come on,' he said. She didn't want to go but had no will to resist. The buildings loomed menacingly, the traffic and people rushed by in a torrent that threatened to sweep her away. It was a relief to reach the Park a couple of blocks to the east. They walked in silence for half an hour and then, because he'd observed how unsettling she found the streets, they took a cab home.
The next morning they went out again, and again in the afternoon. She realized to her mild surprise that she was enjoying the Park. Here at least there'd been little change and from time to time some small thing, like a kid's kite bucking against the wind, or the World Series intensity of a softball game, would join the lacerated edges of her torn-apart life. Such healings were fragile as spans of snow across a dark and fathomless crevasse, but they brought a life and colour to her cheeks which, though quickly fading, did not completely fade. At breakfast on the fourth day. Jay announced he had to go out and might not be back in time for their morning walk. 'So I'll go by myself,' she said. He looked at her assessingly, then smiled. ‘Why not?' She watched from the window till he emerged five storeys below and climbed into the driving seat of the blue Lincoln which had been waiting for him at the airport. His backers obviously liked to keep up appearances at both ends of a bargain. The Lincoln pulled away. She turned and picked up the first volume of the telephone directory and looked up the Allerdale Clinic. It was on East 68th, between Madison and Park.
She looked out at the grey skies, put on her raincoat and went to the elevator. She'd chosen right. Rain was already pocking the sidewalk. A cab came by, hesitating before going on to pull up in front of the next building. While she debated whether to pursue it, another pulled in before her and a young black woman got out. Two cabs in New York on a wet morning! It had to be a good omen. She climbed in. East 68th Street was a narrow canyon of big handsome houses. The Clinic was so discreet she hardly knew it was there even when she was dropped right in front of it. She entered what could have been the vestibule of a very expensive, very old money apartment house. Jay had said a quiet life came expensive these days. Obviously a quiet death didn't come cheap either. An elegant receptionist looked up from a computer keyboard and asked if she could be of assistance. 'I'd like to see one of your patients,' said Cissy. 'Mr Bellmain.' The girl touched a couple of keys and said, 'Your name is…?' 'Waggs,' said Cissy.