Only the Cat Knows Page 12

  ‘That might not be such a bad idea,’ Monica said slowly. ‘It could help get your mind off … your other problems. You might even start remembering things again, once you get back into the swing of your usual routine.’

  The hostility was back. It struck me like a physical blow. I glanced around quickly, but couldn’t pinpoint the source of it. Monica was still smiling at me, it seemed impossible that she hadn’t felt it, too.

  ‘Perhaps tomorrow,’ a voice said behind me.

  ‘Thank you, Shadow.’ Monica beamed her smile over my shoulder.

  I turned in time to see the man in black withdraw and close the door. Shadow was a good name for him. My tensed muscles relaxed as I found I no longer felt the hatred that had lashed out at me so unexpectedly I knew he didn’t like me but …

  ‘Shall we —?’ Monica began, but the others were already moving towards the dining room. She shrugged at me and we fell in behind them.

  Ivor was waiting for us. He gave me a self-satisfied smirk and nodded his head in approval. ‘I think it will do you a world of good to come back to the office.’

  I was immediately uneasy. If he was pleased, I must have done something wrong.

  Whatever Nessa’s real role had been in the Oversall scheme of things, it was obvious that I was not going to be allowed to step back into it. Not immediately. Not until I had proved myself.

  ‘We thought we ought to start you off with something light.’ Candy flashed that sharklike smile at me as she pulled out the chair at a desk almost buried under a mountain of blank envelopes.

  ‘You won’t remember, but Everett is such a stickler for propriety that he insists every Christmas card he sends must be hand-addressed.’

  They must have decided that the Public Relations office was the best place to slot me into. I couldn’t do any damage there. Except, perhaps, to myself.

  ‘He certainly has a lot of friends.’ I tried to keep the dismay out of my face. Not only were there all those envelopes covering the desktop, but further boxes were stacked beside and behind it.

  Writer’s cramp in waiting. I was glad I had taken the precaution of wearing the wrist support bandage.

  ‘Oh, these are just for the worldwide staff,’ Candy laughed. ‘Every single employee in every one of his enterprises gets a personal card from him. It’s not just public relations we have to keep up to speed with. It’s important to keep all our workers happy too.’

  How about the Poor Bloody Infantry they expected to address all those cards? This was the secretarial equivalent of being set to wash dishes in a busy restaurant. It was enough to drive a girl back to the chorus line.

  Or to her own quarters with one of the headaches that seemed to be endemic around here. I was beginning to understand why.

  ‘I’ll have a go.’ With a brave, game smile, I waggled my bandaged wrist in her face. ‘But I don’t know how well I’ll do. I’m afraid I might be a bit slow.’

  ‘There’s no hurry. We always start early and the others will help out if you’re overwhelmed.’ Those teeth flashed again. ‘Ivor’s calligraphy is fantastic. And Nina can be quite good, too — when she puts her mind to it.’

  That did it! I dropped into the chair and pulled the first stack of envelopes towards me.

  ‘Take your time,’ Candy cooed. ‘When you get tired, or if your wrist starts aching, you can pack it in until tomorrow. We have plenty of time in hand.’

  Maybe you have! My teeth might not be so sharp or white — or expensive — but I bared them at her anyway as I nodded.

  ‘And if it is too much for you, you mustn’t hesitate to tell me. You don’t have to do it, you know. We’re all quite happy to carry you for a while longer until you’re fully recovered. The minute you’re feeling tired, you must go and lie down. Everyone will understand.’

  I’ll bet they would! It was just what they wanted. Dear Nessa, frail and fragile — and safely out of the way.

  I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Grinding my teeth quietly, I settled down to work.

  During the afternoon, I became aware that I was under fairly constant surveillance. People would appear in the doorway and look in on me, then disappear again.

  I kept my head down and appeared too absorbed in my task to notice. At some point, a cup of tea materialized by my elbow, unsettling me. I hadn’t heard anyone bring it in; I must have worked myself into a trance. And this was no place to let down my guard.

  There was no biscuit with the tea and no milk or sugar in it. After a couple of sips, I abandoned the dark odd-flavoured brew. Perhaps it was herbal but, if I couldn’t identify it, I wasn’t going to drink it.

  Candy spent most of her time on the telephone, talking in a firm cajoling voice about various projects under way and in the offing. People I had not seen before came and went. I realized there must be a substantial office force who came in by the day. More suspects? Or just innocent office staff carrying out their duties, forgetting everything when they clocked off at 5 p.m.?

  They paid no attention to me, however, which made a refreshing change. No one claiming friendship, no one suggesting unspecified alliances, no one enquiring solicitously about my present state of health — everyone was completely indifferent to me. I was just another pair of hands around the office doing a menial job. Perhaps a temp, it was the sort of job they did.

  Their behaviour also confirmed my suspicion that Nessa had not normally worked in this area of the building. I knew from her letters that she had an office of her own. It was obviously somewhere else. I intended to find it — if they’d let me.

  On the plus side, Í was in the Business Wing of the building, even though I had limited access to the more interesting parts of it.

  I waited until Candy had a telephone call she seemed to be particularly involved in, then approached her desk with a slightly embarrassed air.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said as she looked up, ‘but I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest idea where the loo is. If you could give me directions -?’

  ‘Just a moment,’ she said. ‘I’ll show you.’

  ‘No, no,’ I protested. ‘You’re too busy. I don’t want to interrupt. Just point me in the right direction. Or perhaps one of the girls could —’

  ‘We’ll talk later,’ she said into the telephone and slammed it down impatiently, but rallied with a forbearing smile for me. ‘Just come along, Nessa.’

  It had been worth a try. I ground my teeth again as she led the way down a corridor and through several turnings. I managed to catch a glimpse into some of the rooms along the way before she stopped at a closed door.

  ‘In here,’ she said, opening it. ‘I’ll wait for you.’

  ‘Oh, that won’t be necessary. I’m sure I’ll be able to find my own way back.’

  ‘I’ll wait.’ She pulled the door closed behind me. At least she didn’t try to come in with me. When I turned around, I could see why. It was a one-person place, a good-sized room that had been transformed into a disabled facility. Rather, one corner of it had been, as the appliance surrounded by strategically placed grab bars and the low-sited sink testified. The rest of the room was on the luxurious side, with a low dressing table complete with all accessories in sterling silver, a vase of fresh hothouse flowers and a bottle of mineral water. Beside another table was a motor-operated recliner and a reading lamp. The magazines on the table were the current issues of French, German, Spanish and Italian glossies, as well as their English counterparts. The soapdish by the sink held a bar of expensive French floral soap and fluffy Turkish towels were on the towel rack.

  Above all, there was space; lots of uncluttered space, room for a wheelchair to move around in and turn easily.

  It was clear that I was in Madame’s private boudoir. I wondered if that wide door on the opposite side of the room opened into her own office. And whether she was occupying it —?

  No luck. The knob turned, but the door didn’t budge.

  I stooped and tried the keyhole, but all I could see was
the key in place on the other side of the lock.

  ‘Nessa.’ There was a sharp rapping on the door I had entered through. ‘Nessa — are you all right?’

  Damn! What was she doing — timing me?

  ‘Yes, yes … coming.’ I flushed the toilet ostentatiously and ran the hot water full force.

  For good measure, I pinched my cheeks to get them suitably red, although sheer annoyance had given them a pink glow that could pass for embarrassment.

  ‘Sorry,’ I apologized. ‘I … I was feeling a bit dizzy and had to sit down for a minute.’

  ‘It’s all right. I didn’t mean to rush you,’ Candy said, although the pace at which she was striding back to her office said otherwise. ‘Perhaps you’ve done enough for today. We don’t want to knock you out your first day back.’ Again, her tone suggested that that was just what she would like to do.

  ‘Perhaps I should take time for a nap before dinner,’ I agreed.

  ‘You could have dinner in your room —’

  ‘Oh, no, I’ll be quite all right after a nap. I must get back into the proper routine. It will be good for me.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ she said reluctantly.

  ‘On the other hand …’ I decided to change my mind. The thought of the long evening dragging out after dinner gave me pause. Also, I had already decided that there might be more to learn in the Business Wing than in the dining room.

  ‘Perhaps it would be a good idea if I had an early night after all this exertion. Then I’ll be nice and fresh to face those envelopes in the morning.’

  ‘If you’re sure you’re feeling strong enough to carry on with them …’

  Why did I get the impression that she didn’t really want me hanging around her office, that she had drawn the short straw when it came to keeping me occupied, but sidelined?

  ‘Oh, I will be,’ I assured her blithely. ‘I’m just aching to get on with the job. You can depend on me.’

  ‘Oh, good,’ she said, with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘Where the hell have you been?’ It was nearly midnight and the message Anderson had smuggled to me had implied that he’d be earlier than that. I snatched his arm and yanked him inside, banged the door shut and slammed him up against it.

  Tut-tut, you’ve been reading your private eye books again … Nessa.’ He rubbed his arm ruefully. ‘However would you explain it if anyone had seen you?’

  ‘Never mind being cute! They didn’t. There’s no one around to see anything.’

  ‘Then perhaps I should only talk to you when there are witnesses around.’ He rubbed harder and winced. ‘It might be safer.’

  ‘Don’t worry, you’re perfectly safe.’ He must be feeling more relaxed with me, if he could begin to make jokes. Either that or —

  ‘How is she?’ I demanded.

  ‘I think — I don’t want to raise any false hopes —’ his face brightened, he almost smiled — ‘but I think she’s going to make it.’

  ‘Thank God!’ I slumped into a chair.

  ‘We’re a long way from out of the woods yet,’ he warned. ‘And I can’t guarantee just what the … the residual damage … might be.’

  ‘She’ll live.’

  ‘Possibly … probably … but …’

  ‘But what?’ I fought against the knowledge he was trying to impart. ‘That’s enough. For now.’

  ‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘For now. As for the future —’ He shrugged. ‘I suppose what I really want to say is that one option is closed to us now.’

  ‘Option?’ This was the first I’d heard of there being any. ‘What option?’

  ‘Er…’ He didn’t want to tell me. He avoided my eyes.

  ‘What option?’ If I had to force it out of him, I would.

  ‘Well… we don’t have to make the choice about pulling the plug. She’s functioning on her own now.’

  ‘Pull the plug?’ He was right not to want to say it. I nearly hit him. I wanted to kill him for even thinking such a thing. ‘That was never an option!’

  ‘Immaterial now.’ He shrugged. ‘In fact, we took her off the machine yesterday and she’s doing fine on her own.’

  ‘You took her off? Without consulting me? You had no right to do any such thing! I’m the next of kin!’

  ‘And I’m the medical expert.’ He said it as though he could convince me, but he took a prudent step backwards. I vaguely noticed that the cat had disappeared completely.

  ‘How expert? Have you ever had a case like hers before?’

  ‘Not exactly like hers, but we’ve had some pretty grim cases flown in from the oil rigs. You get to have a feeling about these things.’

  ‘A feeling! You risked Nessa’s life because you had a feeling!’

  ‘I was right.’ He backed another step. ‘It had to be done sometime.’

  ‘Without consulting her next of kin!’

  ‘Save your energy. The hard part is still to come. If she recovers consciousness —’

  ‘If?’

  ‘If she comes out of the coma,’ he continued firmly, ‘we’ll be able to assess the damage, see what can be done to repair it, find out what she needs for rehabilitation, all of that and perhaps more. Don’t worry.’ His mouth twisted wryly. ‘We’ll have plenty of consultations in the days ahead.’

  ‘We’d better!’ I shook my head. ‘I can’t believe it! You did something that dangerous without even talking to her next of kin! You ignored me —’

  ‘We were both busy — and I was afraid you’d react like this. I didn’t want you to blow your cover in an unguarded moment.’

  ‘Very thoughtful of you. I wonder if the Medical Council would consider that a sufficient excuse.’

  ‘You wouldn’t —’ He paled.

  ‘I might.’ But I was in no position to do any such thing at the moment and we both knew it, I realized, as his colour began to return. ‘If it ever happens again. Meanwhile, I’d suggest you brush up on your medical ethics.’

  ‘Don’t worry —’ Was he bold enough now to have a trace of mockery in his tone? ‘I’ll make very sure the next of kin is kept fully informed from now on.’

  ‘See that you do.’ But I couldn’t antagonize him too much; he was my lifeline to Nessa. And there was another point he could satisfy my curiosity about.

  ‘Everett Oversall —’ There was no subtle way to segue into the subject, so I plunged in without preliminaries. ‘I haven’t seen him yet. I’ve heard of keeping a low profile, but this is ridiculous. I’m beginning to wonder if he still exists.’

  ‘Oh, he exists, all right. Never doubt it. And he’s an expert at ensuring that he’ll continue to exist.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ The mockery in his voice had shaded into an interesting bitterness that hinted at volumes that could be spoken.

  ‘Haven’t you found out yet?’ It was unmistakably a taunt, possibly a dare.

  ‘Suppose you tell me.’

  ‘Suppose I don’t.’ He was paying me back for the threat to report him to the General Medical Council. I’d have liked to do more than that to him!

  Careful. Keep calm. Much as I’d have liked to ram his teeth down his throat, it was out-of-character for Vanessa and would be hard to explain. Apart from which, she wouldn’t thank me if she recovered to find herself facing a charge of grievous bodily harm.

  ‘Spit it out! This isn’t a personal favour to me, you know. It’s for Nessa.’

  ‘Nessa … yes …’ His mood changed. He looked at me with a strange expression of aversion and …? ‘Nessa … She should have got away while there was still time.’

  ‘The way Francesca did?’

  ‘Perhaps. Sometimes I wonder …’ His gaze sharpened. ‘At least you found out about her, did you?’

  ‘You were going to tell me.’ I reminded him, ‘what else I should have found out.’

  ‘Was I?’ He looked around, as though searching for escape, and was momentarily distracted by the cat who had sauntere
d back into the room now that our voices were quieter, afraid of missing something.

  ‘Here, girl …’ He snapped his fingers at her, but she went into full Grand Duchess mode and sat down at a distance, staring at him coldly.

  We both stared at him, coldly and silently, until the silence was abruptly shattered.

  ‘Good God!’ He jumped visibly and looked towards the cloister. ‘What’s that?’

  That was a blurred melodic chanting sounding faintly in the distance somewhere along the cloister.

  ‘Just one of my hallucinations. Pay no attention.’ Either someone wasn’t aware that I had company, or they knew and didn’t care because they knew who it was — a witness who could be controlled.

  ‘You … you’ve heard it before?’

  ‘It’s getting to be a regular nightly concert. That’s the reason I didn’t sleep so well last night and am a bit snappy today.’ It was as close as I was going to get to an apology.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’ It was tacitly accepted and we were back on an even footing.

  ‘Who knows?’ I shrugged. ‘I suspect it’s intended to make me rush outside in girlish excitement to try to find out. But I don’t happen to think that’s a good idea.’

  ‘Do you think that’s what Nessa did?’

  ‘And, possibly, even Francesca.’

  ‘Yes …’ He considered that for a moment. ‘Yes, Francesca was the excitable type. I could see her doing that. But I’m not so sure about Nessa.’

  ‘It might have taken more to smoke her out,’ I agreed. ‘But — why should anyone want to? And what about the woman I saw in the anchorite’s cell? Who was she? Anyone we know?’

  ‘I’m sorry about that injection.’ It was his turn to apologize. ‘In the circumstances, it was the only thing I could do — and it was only half-strength, you know.’

  ‘I appreciate that.’ Apology accepted, but deed not quite forgiven. And he still hadn’t answered the question.

  In the distance, that chanting ratcheted up a notch. Now there seemed to be an organ accompaniment.

  ‘I don’t believe this!’ Anderson shook his head groggily. ‘What the hell is going on?’