Stranger in the House

by MacDonald, Patricia

  Anna raised her voice. “I asked him specifically about it. He couldn’t have misunderstood that.”

  “I’m sorry, Anna,” Iris said in a small voice. “I can’t think what else could have happened.”

  “No, you’re right. It’s not your fault. I…I’ll just have to call him again, that’s all.”

  “Do you want me to come over and stay with you?” Iris asked.

  “No, that’s all right. I’ll be all right.” Her mind was already racing, trying to absorb this news about the prowler. If only Edward had been honest…

  “I’m sure he just didn’t want to upset you,” Iris suggested.

  Anna murmured, “Of course. That was probably it.” But she felt goose bumps rising on her flesh at the certainty she now felt. Someone had broken in. And Edward could confirm her story to the police.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come over?” Iris asked.

  “No,” said Anna. Then another thought intruded. “Where are you, Iris? I thought you were at the spa.”

  Iris’s courage failed her. This was no time to get into her own situation. “I am,” she said. “I just felt like talking to you.”

  “Oh.” Anna was lost in thought again. The fact was, she realized with a flash of anger, that if someone had been lurking outside the house, then they could all have been in danger. How dare Edward keep that information from her, even if he was just being his usual overbearing self?

  “Well,” said Iris, “I won’t tie up your phone. I’ll call again tomorrow to see if there’s any news. Try not to worry, Anna. He’ll be all right. You’ll see.”

  Before she had even hung up the receiver, Anna knew what she would do. She would go over to the Stewarts’ and see if Edward was there. If he was, she intended to confront him with what Iris had said. If he would be willing to tell the police about the prowler, it might convince them to start their investigation right away. It could give them something to go on, more substantial, she thought, than a psychic’s prediction. At least it was something she could do. It was better than just sitting here, waiting and wondering if she would ever see her son again.

  21

  At the end of the driveway, which was almost as long as a private road, the Stewart mansion loomed dark against the afternoon sky. Anna walked slowly up the drive toward it, staring at the house. She had always felt that she could never enjoy living in a house like that, no matter how magnificent it might be. She often wondered if Iris, with her simple humdrum ways, felt out of place in that palatial house. It always struck her that the house must have been Edward’s choice.

  For a moment she stood, gazing up at the house. The windows throughout the mansion were dark, and the house was quiet. She wondered if she would find Edward at home. She knew that he only rarely spent a working day out of the city. Still, he had come home early the day before. Perhaps he had done the same today. She almost wished that Iris were here, to run interference for her. Anna never felt at ease with Edward and his stiff ways. She knew that he was only a few years older than she, but something about him made her feel many years his junior.

  She decided to walk up and have a look in the garage windows to see if his car was there. The gravel crunched under her feet as she picked her way up to the expansive doors of the garage, which was in the same style as the house. Anna pressed her face to the windows and looked in. It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness. She knew that Edward’s car was black, so she was unlikely to see it until her eyes were accustomed to the dark interior. In a few seconds she was able to make out the long lines of the black Cadillac. He always drove the same kind of car, year after year, although he often traded it for new models.

  As she recognized the car, she also picked out the golden eagle which he affected as a hood ornament and which was always transferred from one vehicle to the next. Privately she and Thomas had sometimes chuckled at this conceit since Edward’s pompous nature bore so little resemblance to the majestic bird. As she looked at it now, though, something about the eagle bothered her. She stared at it through the window for a few moments, puzzled by her own feelings, and then turned away. It was a problem for another day, she decided. He was home. That was what counted.

  Anna marched resolutely up the walk to the front door and rang the bell. She could hear the chimes echo through the halls of the house, but no one came in answer to her summons. For a few minutes she stood there impatiently, trying to peer through the lead-paned windows which surrounded the door. But the heavy silk-lined drapes were almost shut, and she would have had to pick her way through the rhododendron bushes to get a look inside. He might be taking a nap, she thought. She stepped down off the step and started back toward the driveway. Then she had another thought. He might be in the windmill. According to Iris, that was where he spent most of his free time. Anna glanced up at the huge Tudor structure. Maybe he didn’t like the house either, Anna thought. You never know.

  She walked over to the stone path that encircled the Stewart mansion and walked around to the back of the house. She came upon the terrace, the black, wrought-iron furniture facing the empty aqua pool. The top of the windmill was barely visible in the distance. He was probably out there. For a moment she hesitated, thinking that Edward might resent the intrusion. Then she continued on. She had something important on her mind, and she could ignore Edward’s annoyance. Anything, if it would help to find Paul.

  Behind her, the patio doors opened. Anna heard the sound and jumped, bumping her shin on the table legs as she whirled around.

  Edward Stewart pushed out the French doors and came toward her, his cold eyes fixed on her startled face. “Where are you going?” he demanded.

  “Edward,” said Anna, “I didn’t think you were in the house. I rang and rang.”

  “There are no servants here,” he said, as if that explained why the door had gone unanswered. Anna let the explanation go. Maybe he just hadn’t felt like company.

  “I hope I didn’t take you away from something.”

  “No,” he said. “Do come in.” He indicated the doors, and Anna passed by them and then waited for him while he closed them tight and led the way into the library.

  “I was just about to look for you in the windmill.” She noticed that his shoulders stiffened at the mention of his work room. He certainly is possessive of that space, she thought.

  “Sit down,” he said. He gestured toward a brown leather chair in the library.

  Anna sat down on the edge of it, and Edward seated himself across from her.

  “I can’t stay. I know you’re probably working,” said Anna. “I only came over to ask you something.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  Anna took a deep breath. “Iris called me just a little while ago.”

  Edward sat up. “Iris?”

  “Yes.”

  “Whatever for? I was under the impression that they didn’t have telephones at the spa she’s staying at.”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Anna, realizing as she said it that she didn’t really know why Iris had called. She had been so involved in her own concerns that she hadn’t bothered to ask. For a moment it troubled her, but then she dismissed it. She couldn’t worry about that now. She’d find out sooner or later. She looked back at Edward, interpreting the indignant expression on his face to mean that he was affronted that Iris had gone out of her way to call Anna, not him.

  “What did Iris want?” he asked, his eyes narrowed slightly.

  “I’m afraid I didn’t give her a chance to say,” Anna said apologetically.

  Edward thought he knew. It was the same thing as last night, this kick she was on about not making him happy. Naturally she would be indiscreet and pour her heart out to Anna. They could compare notes about their marital problems. It was disgusting, Edward thought. Unseemly.

  “I told her about Paul. Well, I guess you don’t know what happened.”

  Edward felt a little shock. He shook his head and assumed an innocent, wo
ndering look.

  “I took him to the airport this morning, as I told you on the phone. I went to see Tom off, and when I got back to the car, Paul was gone. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

  “Vanished?” Edward said.

  “He didn’t vanish.” Anna corrected him sharply. “Something has happened to him.”

  Edward was silent for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, “how can I help?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” said Anna. “Remember this morning on the phone I told you about someone trying to break into my house last night?”

  Edward looked at her blankly. Then he pretended to remember. “Oh, yes. The window. In the basement, wasn’t it?” Immediately he knew that what Iris had told her had sent her running over here. He kept his expression puzzled as he searched his mind for a lie.

  “Yes,” said Anna. “Edward, why didn’t you tell me you heard a prowler last night?”

  “What?” he asked in apparent confusion, stalling for time.

  “Today, when I mentioned to you about calling the police and the open window, you never said boo about it. But Iris told me that you thought you heard a prowler last night.”

  Edward rubbed his hands together and looked at her apologetically. “I didn’t think it was important. I mean, I didn’t want you to be needlessly alarmed. After all, I didn’t see anyone.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Edward, I’m not a child that needs to be protected. Why didn’t you just tell me when I asked? It would have been a big help to me in dealing with the police to have known what really happened.”

  “There’s no reason to shout,” Edward said, and Anna was brought up short by the chill in his voice. “I did what I thought best.”

  Anna took a deep breath and nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. That’s just what Iris said.”

  “What?” Edward asked suspiciously.

  “That you probably kept it to yourself so I wouldn’t worry.”

  Edward tried to stifle a smile. Iris. Was it any wonder that his life with her had been so simple? She had never been able to keep up with him. He always had his own way.

  “I need to know,” said Anna. “What did you see or hear last night?”

  Edward picked up the Dunhill lighter which rested in one of Iris’s little clay ashtrays and fiddled with it. “I was in my workroom, and I thought I heard something outside. So I went out to look. But there was no one there. Everything was perfectly quiet.”

  “Could you tell that to the police?” Anna asked.

  “What for?” Edward exclaimed, dropping the lighter back into the ashtray. “I don’t see what possible difference it could make.”

  “I think it could make a crucial difference,” Anna insisted. “Right now the police aren’t taking me seriously. They are treating me as if I’m half insane with these complaints. If they were to hear it from you, they might start doing something to help.”

  Edward gave Anna a tight, chilly smile as he rapidly reviewed the options in his mind. If he refused her request, she might become suspicious of him, and he did not want to appear uncooperative. He loathed the idea of becoming involved with the police in any way on the subject of the boy; but if he didn’t volunteer the information, Anna would simply take it to them herself, and he would be forced to answer their questions anyway. They might even want to come out here. He had to prevent that at all costs.

  “I’d be happy to call them,” he said smoothly, “if you think it would help.”

  “Oh, Edward, thank you,” said Anna, exhaling and falling back into the leather seat.

  “I’ll call them right now,” he said. He got up slowly from his chair, trying not to reveal the agitation he was feeling and headed for the phone. As he picked up the receiver and dialed, he mentally rehearsed the offhanded way in which he would present the information. As he listened to the phone ringing, it occurred to him that this call might ultimately work in his favor. A little neighborly concern, prompted by the mother’s distress, was appropriate in this case. And Anna would be pleased with him for trying to help.

  Anna closed her eyes briefly and then listened with one ear as Edward called the station. His manner of reporting the incident was infinitely casual and in no way reflected the kind of urgency she felt. Ah, but that was Edward, she reminded herself. At least he was calling. She gazed around the library as she waited, thinking what a handsome, if somewhat forbidding, room it was. The leather furniture was all in perfect condition, as if no one had ever sat in it. The antique furniture glowed from being polished and untouched. Several of the models that Edward had built adorned various tables and the bookcases. She had to admit to herself that he had a gift for it. They were elegant vessels, perfect in their details. Across from her, hanging on the paneled wall, was a series of engraved etchings of various birds of prey. There were owls, eagles, hawks, falcons, and others she could not identify. It struck Anna that it was an odd choice for decoration. Most people of the Stewarts’ ilk had pictures of mallard ducks on ponds or sleek Thoroughbreds. She could not help noticing that the eyes on some of the birds reminded her a little of Edward’s. Perhaps, she thought, that’s why he likes them.

  Then, as a strange sensation flooded through her in a warm rush, her eyes focused again on the center etching in the group. It was a golden eagle, much like the one that adorned Edward’s car, and Anna suddenly remembered where she had recently heard of a golden eagle.

  “There,” said Edward, coming back around in front of her. “I’ve alerted the police.”

  “Thank you,” Anna mumbled, tearing her eyes from the picture to look at him.

  “Now,” he said, “why don’t you go on home and try not to worry? The boy will probably turn up before you know it. This is all probably some youthful prank.”

  Anna got up carefully from the chair, avoiding his eyes. “I hope you’re right,” she said. “I know that’s what the police think.”

  “Well,” said Edward, “we have to trust our men in blue.”

  “Yes,” she said, and then she forced herself to smile apologetically. “I just can’t help worrying.”

  “I’m sure they would, too, if they were you,” Edward said, thinking, with a great sense of relief that the policeman he spoke to had not offered to come out and look around again.

  Anna drew in a breath and started toward the door. She turned to her neighbor. “I really appreciate your calling them,” she said. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

  “No trouble,” he said expansively, relaxing at the sight of her leaving the house. “I was happy to do it.”

  He accompanied her to the door and watched as she started to walk toward the driveway. Before she disappeared from sight, she waved to him. He smiled, and waved back, and then closed the door to the house.

  As she walked down the path to the driveway, she pondered the revelation she’d had in the library. The eagle coming toward him on a black mass was the image Paul remembered from his nightmare. The connection had stunned her for a moment when she made it. There were other eagles in the world, of course. It didn’t have to have anything to do with the one on Edward’s car.

  She reached the driveway and stopped short. She knew she should start walking home, but she felt as if she were frozen where she was, her eyes fixed on the garage. She was staring so hard that she felt as if she could see through the doors to the car inside. She had the reckless, unreasonable sensation that if she could stand in front of that eagle and put her hand on it, she might almost be able to reach Paul, to remember something vital that could help her search. She felt suddenly compelled to get closer to that eagle, to stare at it and try to think. As if in a trance, she walked to the garage door, opened it, and slipped inside.

  She knew that she should probably have asked Edward if she could look at the car and explained about the dream. But as soon as she had made the connection in the library, she knew instantly that she would not mention it to him. It was an instinct, almost animal in nature, and she
trusted it. For a moment she berated herself for it, but then she reminded herself that she had been right before. She was Paul’s mother, and there were things she felt that she knew. If that was madness, so be it.

  The interior of the garage was dark and empty, except for the Cadillac. It was a beautiful car, in perfect condition. Anna placed a hand on its cold, shiny side, as if to steady herself, and walked around to the front of the car. The eagle was poised in flight, wings outstretched, its angry eyes focused on the pavement below, just as Paul had described it in his dream.

  Maybe he had seen the car, and the hood ornament had made an impression on him, she reasoned. But that would not explain why it frightened him so or why the dream recurred. She felt her breath growing short as she stared at the bird. She wanted to get out of the garage before Edward realized she was there. She was loath to deal with him again. She needed to get home and think about the impressions which seemed to be colliding in her mind. She started back around the car, admiring, in spite of herself, its glossy finish. Just as she passed the windshield, she noticed a piece of paper stuck under one windshield wiper. The letters LaG jumped off the paper in the gloom and caught her eye. Carefully she reached over the hood and extracted the slip from under the wiper blade.

  The paper in her fingers was a receipt for parking, with the number of a space on it, for a parking garage at LaGuardia Airport. It was timed and dated that morning.

  Anna’s knees started to buckle as she stared at it. She willed herself to stand up, to recover from the fainting feeling that came over her as she crushed the paper in her hand.

  In a few moments she thought she could walk. She hurried toward the side door of the garage, which she had pulled shut behind her as she came in. There was light coming through the windowpanes on the door, and she kept her eyes on the light as she stumbled toward the door.

  She turned the knob and pushed it open. A force from the other side jerked the door back, and Anna fell forward. She looked up into the unblinking eyes of Edward Stewart.