No Secrets (MARNIE WALKER Book 6)

by Leo McNeir

“The infamy, as you put it, will soon be forgotten. It won’t bother these people from the other side of the world. And if it does, we’ll sell her to somebody else. I don’t want to keep the boat for obvious reasons, but I’m not going back on Barbara’s choice of name. You know how insistent she was about names, Marnie.”

  “Very well.” Marnie opened the car door. “Charles, would you like to eat with us tonight? I’m sorry it sounds like an afterthought.”

  “It’s a kind thought, Marnie, but thank you, no. I have plenty here and in any case I’ve got a number of phone calls to make after being away. One of them will be to Sarah Cowan.”

  “You’ve made up your mind.”

  “I have.”

  That evening Ralph asked Marnie if she was going to listen to another tape. The thought had been prompted by a light rain falling after supper. But she had had enough of Barbara’s business after a whole weekend of it and opted for an early night. A read in bed was what she most wanted. She placed a few design magazines on the duvet in the sleeping cabin on Thyrsis and set off for a hot shower. When she returned in her dressing gown Ralph was checking his seminar notes.

  Marnie sat on the edge of the bed. “There’s been something bothering me all evening.”

  Ralph put his papers down. “What is it?”

  “Two things, really. Charles said his first wife now has three children.”

  “Is that significant?”

  “It was the way he said it, as if that’s what she’d always wanted. I wondered if there was a problem with Charles in that regard.”

  “A fertility problem, or not wanting children on his part?”

  “Either, both, I dunno.”

  “But she has a family now, so it’s no longer an issue. She also has a solid alibi, if that’s what you were wondering.”

  “I was wondering more if that was an issue between Charles and Barbara, a reason why she might have been playing away from home.”

  “Not something you can really ask him.”

  “No.”

  “And the second thing? You said you had two things on your mind.”

  “Charles mentioned his military training. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Military training?” Ralph looked thoughtful. “No. That’s new to me. I know he was at Cambridge, read history, I think. Do you want me to find out about his background?”

  “Can you do that?”

  “Leave it with me.”

  Marnie stretched across the bed and kissed him. “I’ve missed you this weekend.”

  “Same goes for me. Are you really planning to read all those magazines?”

  “That’s a leading question.” Marnie turned onto her side, dropped the magazines on the floor and began loosening her bathrobe.

  Ralph leaned forward, took her face in his hands and kissed her for several seconds. Deftly removing the satin robe and turning back towards him, Marnie was surprised to find his expression serious.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I’ve had something on my mind as well.”

  “I thought I’d just worked out what that was.”

  A smile crossed his face, but only briefly. “Now probably isn’t the best time to talk about it.”

  “Now might be the best time to put it right. What’s the matter? Come on, spill the beans.”

  “It occurred to me that if Charles goes public in his support for Neil Gerard’s campaign – and there isn’t much point in him doing so if he isn’t going to make some sort of publicity about it – there might be consequences for us, for you.”

  “In what way?”

  “If whoever did the murder found out that you were helping him, it could put you in danger.”

  “Oh, I thought of that long ago. No, I’m sure no-one’s going to be interested in me. I’m very much in the background. Don’t worry about it. In any case, I think my part in that business is more or less over now. I’ve done all I can do.”

  “Just be careful, Marnie.”

  “I will … promise … cross my heart. I always hold myself back. Well, nearly always. Talking of which, are you really planning to read all those notes?”

  36

  Ralph was surprised to find Marnie still in bed when he returned from his morning walk along the towpath. He came into the sleeping cabin, flushed from his exertions, breathing deeply.

  Lying flat on her back under the duvet, Marnie groaned. “Ooh …”

  Ralph knelt by the bed and pulled back the cover to reveal her face. “What’s up, Marnie, aren’t you well?”

  “Done something to my back,” she drawled.

  “Your back? What can have caused it? Did you lie awkwardly in the night?”

  “It could’ve been working the locks over the weekend.” Her voice was weary.

  “Ah, yes.”

  “But probably not. I’m paying the price. Remind me to enter a nunnery straight after breakfast.”

  “Right-o. I’ll put it in the diary. I daresay Anne will be able to produce a list of local institutions. Yellow pages should help. You’d better stay where you are this morning. Should I call a doctor?”

  “A vet.”

  Marnie had not moved when, ten minutes later, Ralph re-appeared on Thyrsis with a breakfast tray.

  “Easy-to-eat breakfast for the invalid,” he announced cheerfully.

  Another groan from Marnie, but with a grateful edge to it.

  “Anne sends greetings and will be over to see you shortly, if you survive breakfast. Can you sit up at all?”

  “Not without fatal consequences, but I’ll try.”

  Ralph supported Marnie’s shoulders and helped ease her up the bed. He propped her with pillows.

  “Orange juice, coffee and a croissant. No skill required.” He helped slip on her nightdress. “Can you manage?”

  “Yeah. This is a real drag, Ralph, I’m sorry.”

  “Shall I cancel my meeting in London? I can stay here today.”

  “No, no. Your meeting’s important. I’ll work something out.”

  “I expect Anne already has a plan.”

  “Good. She can tell me about it when she brings the list of nunneries.”

  Ralph smiled. “That’s a good sign.”

  “You think so?”

  “You didn’t mention the vet.”

  “No probs.” Anne brushed crumbs from the duvet onto the tray and took it through to the galley. Seconds later she was back, armed with her notepad. “Seriously, Marnie, do you want me to phone the doctor’s?”

  “He’ll only tell me to rest. It’s a bind, it really is. This is the trouble when you’re a very small outfit like us. Perhaps you could change the message on the answerphone, ask callers to ring my mobile number.”

  “No need. I’ll man the office. I can handle some of the enquiries and take messages for the rest. If necessary I can get them to phone you on the mobile or get you to ring them back. Easy peasy.”

  “You’ve got college today, Anne.”

  “Only a couple of tutorials about my projects. I can rearrange them for later in the week. I’m so far ahead with the work, they won’t mind.”

  “If you’re sure. I don’t want you to get behind with your –”

  “Don’t worry about it. I work twice as fast as anyone else and do twice as much. Honestly. What would you like to do, Marnie?”“

  “I thought I’d go for a jog, do some aerobics and maybe –”

  “Marnie!” Mock severity.

  “Well, there’s not much I can do, is there? All I can do this morning is just lie here and hope it wears off.”

  “I know. Shall I bring the radio through? At least that would give you something to listen to, take your mind off things.”

  “Radio?” Marnie looked thoughtful. “There’s a thought.”

  Anne turned to leave. “I’ll go and fetch it.”

  “No, not the radio, Anne. Could you lend me your Walkman?”

  37

  There was a faint hiss as the tape
began turning, the husky voice, quiet and slow.

  You were in a funny mood this afternoon

  What was all that about?

  You know the rules

  I don’t do games, I don’t do French

  French anything [a laugh]

  Sometimes I can’t make you out

  You really are the strangest man

  You get all energetic, all that passion, as if you haven’t seen me in years

  I know it’s been a couple of weeks, but we both knew I’d be going away for a break

  I know you don’t begrudge Charles the odd holiday

  That’s the thing about being a workaholic … he works a lot

  And then you lie there, babbling on … in French

  Mon dieu!

  Maundering

  Yes, there is such a word, even if you say you don’t know it

  I speak English too

  Actually, it was nice that you didn’t try to confuse me with the French

  I was always quite good at it at school, you know

  I can still get by

  One of my shopping languages

  I’m not bad at Italian …I mean, I know how to pronounce Versace and Gucci

  Useful for life’s little essentials

  I understand American, too … Fifth Avenue American, of course [another laugh]

  You said my French accent was good

  Who was it you were quoting?

  Ah yes … Baudelaire

  Tu mettrais tout le monde dans ta ruelle …

  See? I do remember

  You said I’d forget it as soon as I got home

  The other poems by him that you quoted were pretty crude, I thought

  And that one about the rotting carcass … ugh!

  What did you say it meant … the ruelle one?

  Something like … you’d let everyone into your bed?

  That’s when you started to come over all strange

  It’s always a sign that something odd’s on your mind when you start stroking my hair

  I thought you’d gone round the bend when you said that about … other men

  Every man in the world should have the experience of sleeping with me!

  Huh! [a prolonged laugh]

  Whatever made you think of that?

  For the wonderful experience, you said

  It would make the world a better place, you said

  That was nice

  They’d be smiling when they swept me up afterwards and dumped me in the bin!

  Seriously, I’m not sure it was a good idea, talking about …lovers

  Other lovers

  First, it’s none of your business

  Second, I can see it getting out of hand … you getting jealous

  You said you aren’t the jealous kind

  It’s possible

  You could be the exception

  The only one

  In my experience all men are the jealous kind

  It would add spice to our relationship, you said

  Up till then I hadn’t felt inadequate

  At least you didn’t ask me to compare you with them

  That would’ve been fatal

  The end

  I mean that

  Don’t ever ask me anything like that

  Somehow … I don’t think you would

  So perhaps you are exceptional

  For most men, that’s the only thing they’d want to know

  Tu mettrais tout le monde dans ta ruelle …

  Well I wouldn’t

  I’m very choosy

  But like a lot of women, I don’t always choose well

  Ian … Ian Stuart … there’s a joke

  He could give Narcissus a bad name

  Ian was in love … I told you

  He was really sincere

  I’ve never known a man more in love … with himself

  And believe me, I’ve known a few

  Men are just as vain as women

  In all ways

  And mostly, with less justification

  A flabby man looks in a mirror and sees a flat muscular torso

  A slim woman sees herself in a mirror and worries if her bum looks big

  It’s true

  We may be vain, but we’re vain worrying about our faults

  We usually don’t have illusions about ourselves

  Any attractive woman could give you a list of her weak points

  But Ian … he thought he was the cat’s pyjamas

  It was weird, seeing him again after all that time

  Turning up to view Bermuda Reach, seeing that la-di-dah secretary and then …

  Out came Ian, trying to look all dynamic

  I’ll swear he had highlights in his hair

  Then he saw me

  He didn’t know whether to pretend we hadn’t met or we had [a laugh]

  I saw the looks he was giving me

  The nonchalant way he gave me his business card

  I know what he was thinking

  He looked surprised when I handed it to Charles

  My husband is more likely to need it than I am …

  Huh!

  His tan went two shades deeper

  Oops … getting late

  Just time for a shower before Charles rings from …where is it?

  Can’t remember

  Ellen knows more about Charles’s movements than I do

  She controls his life

  Nobody controls mine, not even you, my darling

  Time for you to go down the plughole!

  Until soon

  Bonne nuit

  There was a muffled whispering sound, the swish of blank tape running and then a click as the machine was switched off.

  38

  Listening to the tape on Anne’s Walkman made the experience seem even more real, more intimate. Marnie could hear Barbara taking every breath while she spoke. She could imagine the expressions on her face. It still felt like voyeurism, but Marnie had become accustomed to that now and just found the experience interesting. There was no point in wondering how Barbara would have felt about her listening in on her private life. And Neil obviously did not worry about it. Perhaps he even thought it enhanced his image in Marnie’s eyes to have her know how closely he was involved with such a beautiful woman.

  Marnie rewound the tape, shifting position in the bed to try to ease her back. Perhaps the pain was diminishing. She adjusted the earphones and ran the tape a second time.

  She must have dozed off. Something roused her. Voices. It took some seconds to recall what was happening, lying there in bed with daylight seeping into the cabin. She removed the earphones and wriggled under the duvet. A twinge in the back. Outside on the canal people were calling to each other. A friendly exchange between boaters passing the moored craft, Thyrsis and Sally Ann, dead slow. They were speaking English to each other, Marnie thought idly. She frowned. Of course they were speaking English. What else?

  Then she realised. She had been dreaming. She had been in Neil Gerard’s house. Although she had never seen the inside, she could imagine every detail, the bookcases, the hi-fi, the comfortable well-worn furniture, rugs on a polished wooden floor. Barbara was there. Like Marnie, she was wearing a bathrobe, hers was in pale blue silk, with golden thread tracing a floral pattern on the back.

  They were speaking French, all three of them. Marnie struggled to remember the conversation. What was it about? Les amants … lovers. Barbara thought the word ought to be aimants … from the verb aimer, of course, my dears, she had said.

  The voices outside were receding. Marnie tried to sit up and turn round to look at the clock on the shelf, but her back was too tender. She became aware of the Walkman she was holding in her left hand. She flipped open its lid. The tape inside had reached the end. Barbara’s hypnotic voice must have lulled her to sleep. Marnie closed the lid, pressed the rewind button and fitted the earphones back in place.

  Making an effort of concentration, she listened to the tape a
gain. It was strange, like overhearing someone on the phone when you only get one side of the conversation. The references to French were open to all sorts of interpretation … French kissing, French letters, doing it French-style. It seems to have been their theme for the day. Why Baudelaire? Marnie had never read any of his poems at school. She recalled they were supposed to be very explicit. That must have been why Neil was quoting them to Barbara, to enhance their sex life.

  Then there was mention of other lovers. The Baudelaire poem seemed to have sparked that off. Or perhaps they had been talking about that beforehand, and Neil branched out to the poem about putting all the other people in Barbara’s bed. Pillow talk. And Barbara’s instincts had told her this was not a good idea. Perhaps she was right and it had fatal consequences.

  Barbara certainly had Ian Stuart to a tee. Highlights! Yes, definitely a possibility. Not just a holiday in the Caribbean. So she had seen him in the recent past, though it was clear she had no intention of picking up where they had left off.

  Not much mention of Charles this time. But Ellen? How had Charles referred to her? … I persuaded my old secretary to come out of retirement … Could there be a touch of jealousy in what Barbara said? No. Marnie was sure Barbara did not do jealous. She went her own way. Perhaps a little resentment, nothing more.

  Marnie reached the end and was fumbling for the stop button when she thought she caught the indistinct echo of a sound after the Bonne nuit. She rewound for a second or two and pressed play. There it was again. Another rewind. Something or nothing? One more time. As soon as she reached the Bonne nuit, she rolled the volume control to maximum and this time she heard clearly. Another rewind to be certain.

  Thank you for today, my darling

  It was heavenly

  The words had been whispered quickly as if Barbara did not want to say them out loud, as if she was only giving them the faintest chance of being heard. Would Neil have detected them? Oh, yes. Marnie was in no doubt about that. She was sure he would listen to the tapes over and over again. If he was a hi-fi enthusiast, she was certain he would also listen to them on headphones, probably expensive high quality equipment, not just a little thirty-pound Walkman. He would want Barbara inside his head.