No Place of Safety

by Robert Barnard

Oddie looked closely at Lady Mallaby, but her eyes were unclouded with hate or rage.

  ‘ “Coloured” is the sort of word that’s not used in politically correct circles these days,’ said Oddie. ‘But we’re not talking about circles like that. Older people still use it all the time. It’s all-purpose, and it covers a multitude of shades. And you’d heard the rumour, hadn’t you, Lady Mallaby, that Ben was now going with a “coloured” woman?’

  She stared ahead, still unflinching and silent.

  ‘After that, people at the buffet dinner say you helped yourself to more food, hardly talked to anybody else, then abruptly put down your plate and left. Mrs Ingram no doubt saw this with amusement, because the only reason she’d said that was to annoy and upset you. She’d heard rumours. We’re told the time you left was about half past nine. We’ve timed the drive to Portland Terrace. You would have got there around ten to ten – just the time.’

  ‘You would have parked the car,’ resumed Charlie, ‘walked up to the house, and through the lighted window you would have seen facing you, backs to the hall door, Ben and Mehjabean – your lover and his “coloured” girlfriend, as you thought. Ben’s hand was on her hand. A great wave of hatred swept over you. You’d been replaced by a beautiful young woman. At last Ben had in you what was surely inevitable in the long run – a lover who would not let him go, who would not be content with being just good friends, would not indulge him as a child is indulged. You saw them together, you ran into the house – ’

  ‘How did she get in?’ demanded Sir George. ‘Wasn’t the front door locked?’

  ‘It was. We guess that she’d got a key after Ben had bought the houses, and while he was setting up the refuge there. It was an obvious place to . . . meet. She stood for a moment in the open door of the dining room. Then she attacked.’

  ‘What with?’ came back Sir George. ‘My wife isn’t the sort of woman who carries a knife around with her.’

  ‘She had just been to a buffet dinner, with a carvery. She had helped herself to unwanted food. That’s when she took the knife.’

  ‘Prove it.’

  ‘The caterers say a knife is missing.’

  ‘Prove my wife took it.’

  ‘We hope to prove it by finding it here,’ said Oddie, his voice confident. ‘And bloodstained clothes. I have a warrant, and a team from Leeds will be on its way by now. I imagine you both of you know where they’re hidden, don’t you? When you got home you must have told your husband everything and you made your plans. You concocted the charade which you’ve played out for us, and you got rid of the evidence.’

  ‘Why did your husband go along with it, we wonder?’ asked Charlie. ‘Was it because he still loves you? Was it because he was afraid of a trial for attempted murder harming his business? Or was it that he was afraid that once the police started digging into the background of it, the financing of the refuge must come out, and then the blackmail?’

  ‘We don’t really need to go into that yet,’ said Oddie. ‘We’ll be investigating the illegal arms sales, so there may be charges there, as well as the charge of accomplice after the fact.’

  ‘You’re bloody jumping the gun, aren’t you?’ said Sir George, his face apoplectic.

  ‘A little, perhaps. The important thing at the moment is finding the weapon, and maybe the bloody clothes, if they haven’t been burnt. Not so easy, these days, to burn things, in houses that have oil or gas-fired central heating. Is there a hat with a feather among the clothes, I wonder? Or perhaps still in your wardrobe, Lady Mallaby? Mehjabean felt one against her cheek just before the knife attack. The cloakroom attendant at the Royal said you were wearing one when you arrived and left. We’ll look for that, and the other things. We’ll search the house from top to bottom, and then we’ll search the grounds and the garden – look for earth that’s been newly dug over – ’

  Lady Mallaby’s eyes went down to her lap. Oddie knew that he had made a hit. He knew better than to say anything. The seconds ticked by. Then she raised her head.

  ‘I’ve always believed in taking the consequences of what I have done. That’s part of being a grown-up person. I should have stayed there, shouldn’t I? But the instinct of self-preservation is very strong. I should have stayed there and said: “This is one woman he can’t use. This is one woman he can’t employ his spoilt-little-boy tactics on.” ’ She looked at Oddie. ‘The knife and the clothes are close to the laburnam tree. That’s one thing in the garden I do know the name of.’

  CHAPTER 19

  Consequences

  The Centre was abuzz with noise and activity when Charlie dropped in there three days later. The police had given the go-ahead for normal activity to be resumed. Residents whose fortnight was up and more than up were moving out. People had begun calling in the hope of securing the vacant rooms. Everyone was on the go, and the priority was the room that Mouse had vandalized. The extent of the damage ensured that it needed both an undercoat and a top coat. Fortunately there was a lot of paint left from the time when Ben had taken the houses over. They had found it in a coalshed at the back of number twenty-two, and Derek was organizing an emergency top-speed renovation job when Charlie came into the familiar back room and kitchen at twenty-four.

  ‘You two go and slap on the undercoat,’ he said to Katy and Mehjabean, beautiful under bandages. ‘Thick as you like over the bits where the little scrote left his mark. Oh, I wish he’d come crawling back looking for a room! I’d accommodate him! When we do the top coat we may have to do two walls one colour, two another. Though we’ve got two shades of blue, so maybe we could do the bottom half dark, the top light. Anyway, it’s not the Savoy . . .’

  Katy and Midge went off together quite happily, rapt in each other’s company, seemingly incurious about anything Charlie could tell them. They had been told someone had been arrested for the attack, the name meant nothing to them, and they were getting back without further thought to the routines of before the violence. Charlie wondered at the elasticity of the young, their ability to live in the present.

  ‘Right,’ he said to the other two. ‘I guess you want me to be quick.’

  ‘Please,’ said Alan, looking at his watch. ‘I’ve got the shopping to do, and then I said I might drop in on my mum and dad.’

  ‘OK. Now, as you know, someone has been arrested for the attempted murder – Lady Mallaby, an old girlfriend – former girlfriend, that is – of Ben Marchant’s. I’ve talked to Ben: he can talk a little now, but we had a very restricted time with him. He won’t be part of the prosecution evidence, but she has confessed. We’ve got some forensic back-up – some soil deposits from the front room here, identifiable as from the Otley area. We think the charges will stick.’

  ‘What about here? The refuge?’ asked Alan.

  ‘Yes – that’s a more difficult matter, at least in the long term. Of course it’s not any concern of ours, but obviously you need information about the background to this place. The money for it came from Lady Mallaby’s husband. There may eventually be charges against him on quite another matter, but the investigation will take time, a long time. If he is charged, then there could be questions about how the money for the refuge was obtained.’

  ‘Isn’t that all a bit hypothetical?’ Alan asked.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Charlie. ‘That’s why I said the problems were long term. In the short term the refuge is safe enough. But Sir George was also contributing a weekly subsidy – for food, heating, lighting and so on. That will stop. The question is: can you keep going without it? You’ll have to talk to Ben: he may have a nest-egg tucked away somewhere that will tide you over while he’s recovering. If not – ’

  Alan’s eyes and Derek’s went to each other.

  ‘We might charge for the evening meal,’ Alan said dubiously. ‘They do have money – from begging and that.’

  ‘What about the do-gooding organizations?’ asked Derek.

  ‘I was going to suggest them,’ said Charlie. ‘Shelter’s the best-known one.
You could start with them. Go along and talk to someone there. There’ll be lots of negative publicity to overcome, remember. Go on your own, Derek – sorry, Alan, but you and Katy are too young to help the cause in an interview.’

  ‘Course I wouldn’t go,’ said Alan scornfully. ‘I’m not completely thick.’

  ‘Sorry. Anyway, if they can’t help you themselves they’ll be able to give good advice. It’ll then be a question of knocking on doors. I presume you’re waiving the fortnightly rule as far as Derek is concerned?’

  ‘Oh, that’s all sorted out,’ Alan said. ‘Derek will be staying till Ben’s fully fit again. He’s taking over his room.’

  ‘Good. Remember, the Centre has enemies all around, and not just Mrs Ingram. She’s keeping very quiet about it, and rumour has it her political ambitions have been stalled. But no politician is the natural friend of a place like this, because none of their constituents want it in their neighbourhood. So be prepared. Derek will need to present a full account to funders of how the place is run, the rules and regulations, the weekly cost per person, and so on.’

  ‘I’m halfway there already,’ said Derek. ‘I’ll go over it in detail with Alan and Katy, try to have a few words with Ben. We’ll sort something out.’

  ‘We’ll all go and see Ben tonight or tomorrow,’ said Alan. ‘Midge can come too. He’s fond of her. Well, if that’s all, I’d better be getting along.’

  When he had gone, Charlie raised his eyebrows at Derek.

  ‘Are they taking it quite as much in their stride as they seem to be?’ he asked. Derek Redshaw shrugged.

  ‘As far as I can see. Now that Ben is out of danger they seem mainly worried about whether they can keep this place going till he comes out.’

  ‘Neither of them is talking about going back to live with their families?’

  ‘No. They think the burden of the refuge is on their shoulders at the moment. Alan goes back now and again, and he seems to be getting on all right with them. But he says they don’t understand.’

  ‘Tell me something new.’

  ‘I did hear that rather often from the kids on the streets.’

  ‘On or off the streets, this and every previous generation. Start worrying when the parents do understand.’

  ‘I wouldn’t know about that. I was in care by the time I got to the rebellious stage.’

  ‘What about Katy?’

  ‘She’s been back to see her mother. I suggested they just have an evening together, without getting into any heavy discussion.’

  ‘Sounds like a sensible idea.’

  ‘Seems to have worked out well enough. I think Katy is more able to set the agenda than before. Could be we might get her back home by the time school starts up again. Alan’s talking about taking a year out. That wouldn’t be too disastrous, would it?’

  ‘No. Might do him good. What about Mehjabean?’

  ‘They’re taking it slowly, like she was advised by the lawyer. I get the feeling Moslem parents have the sort of authority that British ones did a hundred years ago.’

  ‘I think you may be right. For better or worse. But I don’t think Mr Haldalwa is a natural tyrant, or anything like that.’

  ‘Anyway, she’ll be going carefully, with legal advice. I’ll go with her to the solicitor if anything unexpected comes up, though I think she’s more capable of taking care of herself than I am.’

  ‘Good. She may seem capable, but she needs an older shoulder. Can you drive?’

  ‘Sure. The army taught me that. The army taught me lots, except how to survive in real life.’

  ‘Well, I must be getting along,’ said Charlie, getting up, and looking around possibly for the last time. ‘I can be contacted at the police headquarters if you need me. Just one more thing: how do you think the kids view their father now?’

  Derek looked up, rather bemused.

  ‘They’re very concerned about him, of course.’

  ‘That wasn’t what I meant. Deeper down, longer term.’

  Derek frowned.

  ‘I suppose you mean: is he a hero to them, a knight of the shining path, a redeemer come to change their whole lives?’

  ‘Yes, roughly.’

  ‘I don’t think so. I don’t mean they’ve seen through him, or that the glamour has worn off, or anything like that. But I think that already, before all this, the kids had begun to take him in their stride – just use the experience of working with him, knowing it would end, and they’d move on. That’s how I interpret what they say about him. They’re devoted to this place, they’ll do anything for him, but they know it’s not their life.’

  ‘I hope so,’ said Charlie. ‘I really hope so.’

  Because an idea had come to him when they were talking to Ben the previous day. He had expressed great concern about Alan and Katy, he had asked what was happening about Mehjabean, and he had expressed satisfaction that the refuge was still up and running, that someone was standing in for him. But once or twice during the interview Charlie had caught a faraway look in Ben’s eyes, as if what they were talking about was already something in his past, and he was moving on to a new dream.

  ALSO FROM ROBERT BARNARD

  The Habit of Widowhood

  The Bad Samaritan

  The Masters of the House

  A Hovering of Vultures

  A Fatal Attachment

  A Scandal in Belgravia

  A City of Strangers

  Death of a Salesperson

  Death and the Chaste Apprentice

  At Death’s Door

  The Skeleton in the Grass

  The Cherry Blossom Corpse

  Bodies

  Political Suicide

  Fête Fatale

  Out of the Blackout

  Corpse in a Gilded Cage

  School for Murder

  The Case of the Missing Brontë

  A Little Local Murder

  Death and the Princess

  Death by Sheer Torture

  Death in a Cold Climate

  Death of a Perfect Mother

  Death of a Literary Widow

  Death of a Mystery Writer

  Blood Brotherhood

  Death on the High C’s

  Death of an Old Goat

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 1997 by Robert Barnard All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  First U.S. Edition 1998

  First Scribner Edition 1998

  Originally published in Great Britain by Collins Crime

  SCRIBNER and design are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Barnard, Robert.

  No place of safety/Robert Barnard.—1st U.S. ed.,

  1st Scribner ed.

  p. cm.

  I. Title.

  PR6052.A665N6 1998

  823'.914—dc21 97-32909 CIP

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4391-5525-7

  ISBN 10: 1-4391-5525-9

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4391-6806-6 (eBook)

 

 

 
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