He bounced the happily giggling Jamie to the floor, and looked at me, studying my face.
“What is it, Lucy?” he asked quietly. I could so easily have imagined that the concern in his eyes was real.
I believed this man to be a murderer. Then why was I still being fooled by the other Craig I’d known? The charming handsome young bridegroom I’d carried in my heart for so long. The gentle, considerate friend I’d discovered so recently.
Margo too had been fooled by his charm. And she had paid for her mistake.
I hadn’t answered Craig’s question. He repeated it as I sat down beside the fire.
“What is it, Lucy? What’s the matter?”
I looked up, almost succeeding in meeting his gaze. “The matter? I don’t understand—nothing’s the matter.”
He glanced swiftly at Jamie. It was just as well that the little boy was there to put a curb on Craig’s tongue. “It’s as though ... well, as though you’ve suddenly changed your opinion of me.”
I used the only excuse that came to hand. “I’m still a bit shaken up after yesterday. I’m sorry if I’ve been acting in an odd way.”
He nodded sympathetically. “That was a terrible business. I had a hell of a row with Nairn about it this morning. But that’s like locking the stable door after the horse has bolted.”
“Never mind. It could have been worse.”
He eyed me strangely, as if sizing up the intention behind my remark.
“As you say, it could have been worse. A great deal worse.”
A maid brought in the tea, and Jamie fell upon his glass of milk, and a wedge of the chocolate cake he liked so much. Then I proceeded to pour out the tea.
Craig was watching me intently the whole time. “You must get yourself some real rest,” he said in a thoughtful voice. “I’ll make arrangements to have ... a certain person taken off your hands.”
“I like having him around,” I countered quickly, decisively. I could see right through his attempt to isolate me.
It was an enormous relief when the Lennoxes arrived home a few minutes later. They joined us in the sitting room, and fresh tea was sent for. I began to relax slightly.
Alistair Lennox asked me what I’d been doing with myself. “Taking it easy, I hope, my dear?”
“Very much so. Just reading and lazing until teatime.”
He smiled at me as he helped himself to a scone. “Excellent. I only hope young Jamie wasn’t too much of a bother.”
We all stayed where we were until six o’clock—Jamie’s bedtime. As the little boy was saying good night to the others, I whispered to Mrs. Lennox: “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go up to bed too. I’m feeling rather tired.”
She was at once all flustered and anxious for me. “Oh my dear ... I wish you’d ... I wonder if ... ?”
The two men had overheard. Immediately they both looked at me with expressions of concern.
“I think we ought to get McGregor to have another look at Lucy,” Craig declared. “She obviously isn’t at all herself.”
I stood up quickly. “Come on, Jamie.”
Ignoring Craig, I spoke directly to his aunt. “Thank you, Mrs. Lennox, but it won’t be necessary to call in the doctor. I’ll be fine by the morning.”
“But your dinner ... ? You’ll need ...”
I shook my head. “I’ll be better without it.” I certainly couldn’t have eaten much, anyway.
There was only one thing I wanted—to get away from Glengarron Castle. I’d got a plan in mind now. It wasn’t very much of a plan, but it promised action, and that was what I badly needed.
I cut short Jamie’s craftily prolonged good nights and got him out of the room as fast as I could. Pulling the door shut behind us, I sighed with relief.
I paused for a moment. Nobody was around. The telephone stood on a small table in the inner hall. In the drawer underneath, I knew I ought to find a bus timetable and a map of the locality. Somebody had left them lying around the previous day, and I’d happened to spot one of the maids putting them away.
Hastily, I found what I wanted, closed the drawer, and ran up the stairs with Jamie.
In the slowly fading daylight the castle was a gloomy place. Soon it would be dark. There was a heavy pall of silence, empty and friendless, but just now the quiet served me well. The maids would have gone home for the day, leaving only Duncan and his wife. They would be in the kitchen now, preparing dinner.
I took Jamie into my bedroom first, and collected slacks and a thick sweater, a pair of walking shoes and my heavy coat. Automatically I gathered up my handbag as well, but on second thoughts I just took out all my money, and put it loose into my coat pocket, wedged with a handkerchief. A small slab of chocolate caught my eye, and I stuffed that in too.
I glanced around swiftly, not expecting to see this room again. Then I prodded Jamie outside, and hurried him along to his own room. I closed the door and surreptitiously turned the key.
“I’m going to stay in here with you for a bit, darling.”
“Why for, Lucy?” His eyes were big with pleased surprise.
“Oh—just for fun.” I helped him undress and got him to bed quickly. “We’ll miss the bath for once,” I said to his astonishment. It was important, I thought, for him to get in as much sleep as possible.
When he was tucked away and already drowsy, I opened up the map I’d filched from the telephone drawer. Glengarron Castle was almost dead center, clearly indicated on its promontory at the head of Loch Ghorm,
Though I knew it already, I was dismayed to see how empty was the country round about us. Roads—and only minor ones at that—were few and far between. The one that served the castle was out of the question. I’d been driven along it on two occasions, when I’d arrived and again yesterday after the accident. I knew that it ran for many miles through wild and desolate country. In the other direction, beyond the castle, it seemed to peter out altogether, serving only a few isolated farms.
Apart from that, the nearest road lay on the other side of Lambert Nairn’s land. To reach it meant taking the track where the pile of logs had collapsed on me. But I couldn’t let that daunt me. Right now I had too many other things to worry about.
I reckoned that getting as far as this road would be just about the limit of little Jamie’s endurance. It would be useless for me to drag him all that way if it didn’t reach a bus route.
I scrutinized the map again. The road seemed to link up several villages and hamlets, so there was a chance. I found the name of the nearest place, and turned to the bus timetable. Ballashiel was listed in the index.
Timetables had always been a mystery to me. With their asterisks and footnotes, their qualifications and innumerable exceptions to the rule, they managed to confuse me hopelessly.
This one was as bad as every other. If the occasion had not been so vital I should have given up in despair. But I persevered, and at last felt confident that I’d got it sorted out. A bus would pass the spot where the forest track met the road at roughly seven-twenty-five, and then wander on for a few miles, its terminus being just a minute hamlet. There was no connection here with any other route—there were no other roads.
But at about eight-thirty the bus went by on its return trip, going through to a large village about ten miles to the east. And there it made connection with a major service that would take us all the way to Inverness.
My objective at this stage was just to get away from the immediate neighborhood of Glengarron Castle. But that was no easy matter. There were so few escape routes in such a remote part of the world.
A girl with a small child, traveling late in the evening, would be an easy quarry. Every move we made was bound to be noted, and a phone call or two would be enough to set Craig on our trail.
My only hope was to cover as much ground as possible before our going was discovered. I had managed things so that with any luck we should not be missed until morning. And by then, I reckoned, we should be far away in a big town,
where we could hope to pass unnoticed.
I was determined to be on that eight-thirty bus. Somehow or other I was going to slip out of the castle with Jamie. Somehow or other I was going to coax and cajole, drag and bully the poor little boy over the couple of miles of forest track to the road. It was going to be tough on him. But how much worse for Jamie if I were to desert him now, and leave him in the hands of the man—the murderer—who was his father.
Checking yet again through the things I needed, I remembered my gloves. Though the April days were warm, it could still get mighty cold at night.
But my gloves were next door, in the top drawer of my dressing table.
I wavered at leaving this room with its illusion of safety. But I should have to take the plunge later, so why not now? Jamie was asleep, and I’d only be a few moments. Before I could change my mind, I unlocked the door and ran along to my own bedroom.
I was already inside before I realized something was wrong. At first it was pure instinct—I felt certain that somebody else was in the room.
And then I saw the curtains move.
Chapter 13
It was only the faintest stirring, a slight billowing. But that was enough to tell me somebody was hiding behind the curtains.
Instinct urged me to turn and run. But if I did, Craig would know I’d spotted him. He’d be after me in an instant.
There was a chance that if I acted normally he wouldn’t emerge from his hiding place and attack me. I might be able to get safely out of the room without him realizing I suspected anything.
The dressing table stood about fifteen feet away from me, and barely ten from the window. Leaving the door open wide, ready to start screaming my head off, I crossed the room as quickly as I dared. With an effortful lack of haste I opened the drawer and took out my gloves. I even managed to hum a tune lightly.
I was careful to switch off the light again and close the door behind me, before scurrying back to Jamie’s room.
I locked myself in with a gasp of relief.
My ear pressed up against the door, I stood and listened. There was no sound from outside. I must have been standing there for five full minutes in absolute silence, except for Jamie’s soft breathing and my own thudding heart.
And then, so very faintly that I couldn’t be quite certain, there came a click, a tiny noise of a door being closed. I held my breath in an effort to hear more, but there was nothing. Had Craig gone away, or was he lingering outside in the corridor? I hadn’t any means of knowing.
By now it was past seven o’clock. There was no time to waste. Steadily, forcing myself not to rush, I changed into slacks, and got my coat and gloves and scarf ready.
I roused Jamie then. He protested sleepily, but I soon had him wide awake by pretending we were going to play a secret game. It was the only way I could think of to make him come with me quietly, and not question every move.
I had already got out some warm clothes for him—long trousers, a thick sweater and his fleece-lined jacket.
He was terribly excited when I told him we were actually going outside in the dark. “For a sort of game,” I said feebly.
“Like hide and seek?” he asked, his eyes huge and shining. “Will the others be searching for us, Lucy?”
“Well ... er ...” I hedged. “It’s more a sort of tracking game really. You know—like cowboys and Indians.”
“Gosh.”
I gathered up the bus timetable and map—they might well come in useful if I had to change my plan suddenly.
The biggest obstacle of all was facing me right here and now—how to get out of the castle without being seen. If anybody did spot us, how on earth could I give a plausible explanation? I could hardly say I was taking a five-year-old boy for a walk—not well past his bedtime and after dusk. Besides, I was supposed to have gone to bed myself because I was feeling so tired.
I had to take a chance. At least the time was opportune.
The family would by now be having the usual aperitif before dinner, and Duncan and his wife would be busily engaged between the kitchen and the dining room.
I explained to Jamie that we had to be very quiet or it would spoil the game. Opening the bedroom door, I peered out into the dim corridor. Everything was quiet. The light at the head of the stairs was on, and showed that the coast was clear.
To impress on Jamie the need to take care I made a theatrical display of caution. We tiptoed along hand in hand. I wanted to avoid using the main staircase if possible, and I had an idea the service stairs must be in the other wing.
This was new territory to me. I paused, listening, but there was still no sound. A few yards along I saw a door on the right that was slightly different from the others. It had no handle, apparently designed to be opened at a push from either side.
With Jamie just behind me still clutching my hand, I pressed gently against the door to investigate. As I’d hoped, there were the service stairs, bare boards curving downward in a spiral. I led Jamie through and let the door swing to after us.
Light shone up from below. I looked over the metal handrail and found I could see all the way down to a wide stone-flagged passage.
Jamie was entering into the spirit of the thing. He was greatly enjoying what he imagined to be an intriguing game, hardly making a sound as we crept down step by step.
We were almost halfway when a door directly beneath us was suddenly opened. Brighter light beamed out, reflecting against the whitewashed wall opposite.
We were trapped. To turn back up the stairs would make far too much noise. All we could do was to push back against the stone wall and hope we wouldn’t be seen.
I crouched over Jamie, pressing an urgent finger to my lips. He grinned back at me happily.
Duncan’s voice came up to us, startlingly near. Obviously talking to his wife back in the kitchen, he was grumbling like a man hard-ridden.
“Will ye no give me a chance, woman. I’m awa’ to fetch the wine, now.”
He shuffled off down the passage. Another door opened, and I heard his heavy footsteps descending into the cellars.
Still I dared not make a move. Below us the staircases curved on around. To go down any further would almost certainly mean coming into sight of both the kitchen and cellar doors.
I managed to put on a conspiratorial smile for Jamie’s sake, and we just stayed where we were, waiting. From the kitchen I could hear the clatter of pans. The air was warm with the smell of roasting beef.
Duncan seemed to be gone a long time—far longer than he needed just to get a bottle of wine. Maybe he took the chance of having a nip or two himself while down in the cellar out of his wife’s sight.
At last I heard him coming back, grunting as he climbed the steps. The cellar door closed, feet shuffled along the stone passage, and then the kitchen door banged shut.
I waited another minute to let him settle. Very faintly I could hear the couple bickering.
It was doubtful if I’d get a better chance than this.
I tugged Jamie’s hand, and we went on down the stairs. At the bottom, I realized at once that we couldn’t avoid passing the kitchen. Beyond it were two other doors. One would lead to the cellar and the other to a storeroom, perhaps, or a laundry.
But what interested me was a half-glazed door at the far end of the passage. I guessed it must lead to the courtyard.
I was thankful that we both happened to be wearing soft rubber soles. I was thankful too, when we reached the door, that nobody troubled to lock up in these remote parts. With tremendous care I grasped the handle, turning it, easing it around. Then I gave a gentle pull, and the door swung open.
Silently I motioned Jamie to go through, and I followed him, taking as much care closing the door as in opening it.
Only then did I look around me. I found we were in the corner of the courtyard nearest the great entrance gate. I studied the sky anxiously. So much would depend on the weather in these next few hours. It wasn’t very reassuring. The moon was faint an
d watery, and heavy clouds were gathering to the west.
I was tempted to strike out at once, to go straight across the causeway and escape as quickly as possible. But there was still another job to be done first. The moonlight wasn’t going to last very long and I would need a flashlight. On the rough forest tracks there was an alarming number of pitfalls, and I daren’t risk a sprained ankle. Besides, Jamie might well be frightened out there in the threatening darkness.
Getting a flashlight was all part of my plan. At first I’d been at a loss until I remembered where I’d seen one. The day I’d arrived, when Craig had driven Jamie and me up to the forest clearing, I’d noticed one under the dashboard of the jeep. The thing had been rolling about, and Craig had carelessly wedged it with a duster to stop the clatter.
I had to pray it was still there. I had to pray it worked.
Keeping up the pretended game, I took Jamie quietly across the courtyard to where the jeep was garaged in an outbuilding. To my dismay the door seemed to be jammed. I recalled now that Craig had found it difficult himself. He had muttered in anger as the heavy door grated loudly against the flagstones.
A noise like that was just what I must avoid. Could I get the door open quietly, enough for Jamie and I to slip through? It was heavily constructed of thick planks nailed to big cross beams. I tried grasping it by the edge and lifting, to take some of the weight off the ground. But the door simply wouldn’t budge.
I badly needed that flashlight so there was only one thing for it—I had to take a chance. I got a good grip and heaved the door jerked open about a foot with a shattering noise which seemed to echo around the enclosed courtyard, on and on.
I was terrified. Someone was bound to have heard.
I held my breath, listening for the sounds of someone coming out to investigate. But nobody came. Maybe nobody reacted any more to such a familiar noise.
Jamie and I pushed through the narrow gap into pitch darkness.
“Just stand there quite still,” I whispered. “I’ll only be a moment.”
“Are we going out in the jeep?” asked Jamie, too loudly for my comfort.
Call of Glengarron Page 14
