‘It’s the law now,’ he said. ‘At one time you could leave these things lying around for anyone to pick up. They’ve tightened up the regulations now. And not before time.’
‘Well, at least,’ she said, ‘if those men should come we’ll not be entirely unarmed.’
‘They won’t come. How could they find us? They’ve no idea where we’ve gone.’
She had to agree that this was true, but it occurred to her that they had not known where she had gone once before, and yet they had found her. Might they not do so again? Was anywhere really safe?
She tried to put the question out of her mind, and in the days that followed she almost succeeded in doing so. They were sweet summer days with Brian; some of the happiest of her life. But for the nagging thought at the back of her mind that all this was too good to last, they could have been perfect. Only the slight persistent doubt robbed them of complete perfection.
*
Craig was still waiting for her to tell him the full story. She had from time to time dropped little bits of information about her past life. He gathered that her father had been a French film director, but was now dead. Her mother was of German origin and was still alive, but apparently all relations between her and Adelaide had been broken off. There was a stepfather, a Frenchman with a château in the Bordeaux region and a vineyard; but with him also she had lost contact. It appeared that she had travelled in Spain and Germany as well as France, and that for a time she had lived in the Montparnasse district of Paris.
She had not told him how she had come to be in Buenos Aires, or what she was doing there. She seemed reluctant to speak of that period of her life. Nor had she yet told him what it was that Gomez and Villa wanted from her. She had, however, revealed that they were not acting just on their own account but for another man who had remained in Buenos Aires.
‘They are simply agents of his. They work for him. He’s the one that gives the orders.’
So now there was this shadowy sinister figure five thousand miles away, who was directing operations from a distance, and for Craig the mystery deepened. He would have liked to know more; his curiosity was aroused; but he did not press her to tell him. They were lovers and she was bound to reveal everything to him in the end.
*
It was on the fifth day that she had a shock. They had gone into Ringham to do some shopping, and as they were coming out of the baker’s she saw a thin-faced middle-aged man who looked vaguely familiar. He was sitting in a car parked by the kerb, and he looked at her and their eyes met.
She knew she had seen him somewhere before, but she could not immediately remember where. Then suddenly it struck her: he was the man who had called at her house in Southwark, saying that he was from the Council. So what was he doing here? He had given no sign of recognising her, but she felt sure that he had. She remembered he had not said what council he was working for and had shown no proof of his identity. She had thought it odd at the time that anyone should call simply to ask the questions that he had asked. Now it worried her.
She spoke to Craig about it on the way back to The Hide. He had seen the man, but had thought nothing of it.
‘What about him?’
‘He called on me in London. He said he was from the Council. He asked if I was Miss Lacoste and had I moved in recently.’
‘Are you sure it’s the same man?’
‘Yes, I am sure. And I’m certain he recognised me.’
‘But what would he be doing down here?’
‘That’s what I’ve been asking myself. It can’t be coincidence. He’s surely not on holiday. He must be following me.’
‘Now hold on. Why would he do that?’
‘Well, look at what happened after he called on me at the house. Next day Gomez and Villa turned up.’
‘Ah!’ Craig said. ‘I see what you’re getting at. You think he’s working for them. He finds you and passes the informatiion on. Is that it?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Which would probably mean that he’s a private eye they’re employing. Yes, I suppose it figures. They’re on unfamiliar ground. They would need help.’
‘And now this man has found me again, so next thing they’ll be here too.’
‘If you’re right about this. You still could have been mistaken. You only had a glimpse of him. He may just have looked like the other man.’
‘I don’t think so. I think we should leave. It’s not safe even here.’
‘Oh, come now. Just because you’ve seen this man who may be a man who called on you in London you can’t go rushing off somewhere else. Where would you go?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Of course you don’t. And you can’t keep on running away. What sort of a life would that be?’
‘At least I’d be alive.’
‘And so you will be if you stay here. Look, I’m with you, aren’t I? You’re not alone now.’
She let herself be persuaded. For after all, where indeed could she go? And if it came to the point, how could she go anywhere if he refused to take her? He had the transport.
‘My guess is they won’t come,’ Craig said. ‘I just can’t believe the man you saw could be the London one. Don’t worry, my sweet, don’t worry. Everything will be all right.’
But whether he believed or not, she noticed that when they got back to the bungalow he took the shotgun from its cabinet and loaded it and put it back again. And when he closed the cabinet he left the padlock off.
Chapter Seventeen – Luck
Gomez and Villa went again to the inquiry agency which they had employed before. They said their relative, Miss Lacoste, had once more disappeared. They feared she might even have been kidnapped, and they wished to have her found without delay. Moreover, they insisted on having the same operator to carry out the search; the man named Sharpe, who had been so efficient in doing the job on the previous occasion.
It was Sharpe himself who objected to this. Secretly he was glad to hear that Miss Lacoste had given these men the slip, because he was not at all convinced that they were in fact relations of hers; and even if they were, he felt pretty certain that they wished to find her, not for her benefit, but for their own. He feared that nothing but harm could come to her from such men, and harm was the last thing he wished to come to that charming young lady. Especially did he not wish to be instrumental in bringing that harm to her.
So he made excuses. He was engaged on other investigations; he had arrears of paperwork to attend to; there were others perfectly capable of doing the job as well as he. None of this made any impression on his employer, who was concerned only with pleasing these clients who paid promptly and generously for services rendered. Sharpe must either accept the assignment or take the consequences.
Whether these consequences would amount to the loss of his job was not stated, and he did not demand enlightenment on this point. He preferred not to have it spelt out to him, and with reluctance he agreed to work once again for the South Americans whom he detested more than a little.
From what they told him, it appeared that they had seen Miss Lacoste being driven away in a car by a man. They had tried to stop the car, but to no avail. Villa had in fact been almost run down. They had gone to the house again the next day, but it was locked and the woman had not returned.
Sharpe doubted the kidnap theory. He thought it was far more likely that Miss Lacoste had gone away with the man of her own free will; quite possibly to escape from her self-styled relations.
‘The driver of this car,’ he said. ‘Had you ever seen him before?’
They had.
‘He called at the house when we were there, having a discussion with Miss Lacoste,’ Gomez said. ‘She seemed unable to get rid of him and we had to leave.’
‘Do you know who he is?’
‘No.’
‘What sort of car was he driving?’
‘A blue one,’ Villa said.
‘Make?’
Neither of them knew the
answer to that one.
‘When was it they left?’
‘Yesterday. At about ten in the morning.’
There was nothing else they could tell him that would have been at all helpful. Sharpe said he would make inquiries and let them know the result. He could not guarantee to find Miss Lacoste, but he would do the best he could. He rather hoped he would be unsuccessful. That lovely young woman! Why should he help her persecutors, as he believed the men to be? He hated doing it, but he had a wife to keep, and the wife’s health was none too good.
*
He went again to the house in Southwark the next day and rang the bell. There was no answer. Obviously Miss Lacoste had still not returned. He went next door and tried there, with no greater success.
He heard a woman’s voice behind him: ‘You won’t find anyone there. Mr Craig’s gone away.’
Sharpe turned and saw a rather scrawny woman of indeterminate age standing on the pavement.
‘Oh, is that so? And the lady next door?’
‘Her and all. They went together. In his car.’
‘You wouldn’t happen to know where they went?’ Sharpe walked down the path to the gate, and the woman waited for him. ‘It’s rather important.’
‘Business, is it?’
‘Yes, business.’
‘Thought it might be. There was this time once before, see? There was an important letter he was expecting. So he gave me the key to his place and asked me to go in next day and see if it had come. If it had I was to post it on to him.’
‘Where to?’
‘To this place he’s got down in the country, where he goes to relax like.’
‘And you think that’s where he may have gone with Miss Lacoste?’
‘Oh, is that her name? I didn’t know.’
Sharpe could see that the woman was interested. She was the gossipy kind; which might be to his advantage.
‘You live nearby, then?’
‘Just next door. I’m his other neighbour. The other one’s only been moved in a little while. Didn’t take him long to strike up an acquaintance with her. Can’t say I blame him. She’s a real good-looker, and that’s a fact.’
‘I know.’
‘Oh, you’ve seen her, have you?’
‘Yes.’
‘So you don’t need me to tell you why he might like to take her off to that there place of his. And good luck to him, I say.’
‘I suppose,’ Sharpe said, ‘you couldn’t let me have the address?’
‘Well, I don’t know as I ought.’ She looked at him, pondering the wisdom of imparting the information. ‘Still, you look honest. Can’t be any harm in, can there?’
‘None at all,’ Sharpe said.
‘You’d better come in, then. I can’t remember it offhand, but I’ve got it somewhere.’
She led the way up her own little garden path and unlocked the front door. She was carrying a bag of groceries and had evidently been shopping. She set the bag down in the hallway and ushered him into a sitting-room, which was so cluttered with furniture and knick-knacks that you could hardly move without upsetting something.
‘I’m Mrs Maggs,’ the woman said, ‘if you was wondering.’
Sharpe had not in fact been wondering; he was not interested in who she was. But she had paused expectantly and he felt obliged to make a similar revelation.
‘My name’s Sharpe.’
He could detect no indication of a husband’s presence in the room, so perhaps the woman was divorced or widowed. He did not ask; it was not part of the inquiry, and once started on that road there was no telling where it might lead.
Mrs Maggs hunted in a bureau and came up with a slip of paper which had the address written on it. Sharpe copied it into his notebook. It had all been just too easy. But that was the way things went sometimes, you had a slice of luck. Though he was not so sure he really wanted this luck.
‘Would you like a cup of tea, Mr Sharpe?’ Mrs Maggs asked.
Sharpe was about to refuse but changed his mind. He was in no hurry. He would leave it until tomorrow before going down to this place called Ringham to check whether Miss Lacoste was there or not. Why should he put himself out for those two South American bastards? Come to think of it, he might leave it for a couple of days before doing anything more. If they asked him how he was getting on he would tell them he was pursuing his inquiries with all diligence. Let them sweat for a while.
*
He did not even have to go to the bungalow. He stopped his car in the village and asked in the post-office to be directed to The Hide; and he had just got back behind the wheel when Miss Lacoste appeared. He recognised her at once, and he could tell that she had recognised him. She looked startled, and he guessed that she would be asking herself how he came to be there. And maybe she would even get round to connecting him with Gomez and Villa.
It was a pity, but nothing really to bother about. If she did take fright and decide to move again to some place where she would feel safer, well and good. He would not lose any sleep over it even if the clients did. He had done his job and that was that.
He left it until the next morning to tell them where Miss Lacoste had gone to ground. He told them the man’s name was Craig. They wanted to know how far it was to Ringham, and he told them that too. He got out a road map and showed them where it was. It made them think. They began jabbering to each other in Spanish, and he wondered whether they would ask him to take them down there. Which was certainly not what he wanted to do.
But they did not. Instead, they asked him where they could rent a car, so it appeared that they had decided to drive themselves.
He gave them the information and just hoped they would lose themselves in the wilds of rural England. If he never saw them again it would be soon enough for him.
Chapter Eighteen – The Best Way
Nobody came to The Hide on the day when Adelaide saw the man in the car in Ringham. It was all very quiet and peaceful. Before they went to bed Craig took a look around outside with a torch. He found nothing suspicious.
He returned to the bungalow and locked the doors and fastened the windows. He still thought Adelaide was worrying about nothing, but to satisfy her he took these precautions.
The night passed without incident.
‘Well,’ he said as they ate their breakfast, ‘we haven’t been murdered in our sleep; so that’s something to be thankful for.’
She was not amused. ‘I slept very little. I kept thinking.’
‘And what were you thinking about?’
‘Those men.’
It was what he might have expected. She could not get them out of her mind. She was obsessed by them.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘They won’t come.’
‘If only I could believe that.’
But the morning and the afternoon passed, and no one came. It was one of those oppressive humid evenings with a hint of thunder in the air. As it grew dark the occasional rumble could be heard in the distance. The sky was heavily overcast.
Adelaide seemed to be affected by the atmospheric conditions. She was restless; she would sit down for a while, then jump up again and walk around.
At a little after ten o’clock Craig went outside to take a look at things. He left Adelaide in the sitting-room curled up for the moment in an armchair.
The heavy clouds overhead were making it even darker than it would otherwise have been. Some light was coming from the windows of the bungalow, but it did not penetrate far into the gloom. The roadway was just visible for a few yards but that was all. He went down to the jetty and gazed out over the broad, but even there the darkness was impenetrable except when a flash of lightning showed up the distant trees in momentary stark relief.
He turned and went back to the bungalow and climbed the steps to the verandah which was built on three sides of it. He had just done so when he heard a sudden patter of feet on the boarding. He was turning towards the sound when something hit him on the neck and his mind bec
ame blank.
*
He found himself sitting on an upright chair, tied to it by his arms and his legs. It seemed to him as if not an instant of time had passed from the moment when he had been struck on the neck and this moment when he came to his senses and discovered that he was tied to the chair.
Yet it had, of course, been longer. There had been time for the men to take him inside and bind him securely to it. The men were there now, and he recognised them without difficulty, though he had seen them just the once before.
‘So,’ Gomez said, ‘you are awake. Good.’
Adelaide was there too. They had not bound her. No doubt they had figured that there had been no need to. She could not escape while they were keeping an eye on her.
Craig’s head ached and his neck felt sore. It had been a shrewd blow that one of them had dealt him; whether by some kind of bludgeon or merely the edge of a hand he could not tell. Either way, it had served its purpose.
He looked at the woman. ‘It seems you were right. That man in the car must have been working for them.’
Gomez said: ‘You saw Mr Sharpe? He did not tell us that. Well, it makes no difference. Yes, he was working for us. A very smart man. He has been a great help.’
‘But he isn’t with you now?’
‘No. It would not have been advisable. There could be things happening that he would not like.’
‘But why did he help you?’ Adelaide asked.
‘Because that is what he was paid to do.’
‘Paid to help you commit a crime?’
Gomez raised his eyebrows. ‘Is it a crime to recover what has been stolen? And besides, he believed he was only finding our dear relative for us.’
‘So I am related to you? I can think of nothing more disgusting.’
Gomez laughed. He turned to Craig. ‘She is a spirited young lady. Don’t you agree?’
Craig said: ‘What is this talk of a stolen article? What has been stolen?’
‘She did not tell you?’
‘No.’
Gomez wagged an admonishing finger at her. ‘That was wicked of you. To keep a secret like that from your new lover.’
Lady From Argentina Page 15
