‘Balfour?’ Her voice broke in on his attention like a clarion. She was staring at him wide-eyed as comprehension began to struggle to the surface. ‘She was General Balfour’s wife?’
Too late, he realized what his slip had cost him. Yet surely in time Noel would have told her anyway. He could only watch as she slotted the information into place like the final missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle.
‘Of course,’ she said softly. ‘His wife was killed in a car accident as he was being flown home. Who was talking about—? It was Mr. Sandilands, at the Howards’ party, the day I met you.’
He waited, not breathing.
‘He said he thought her death wasn’t an accident, that there’d been someone else with her—you, Lewis!’
His eyes held hers with a sick resignation.
She went on in a whisper, ‘It must have been the most fantastic shock for you, coming so unexpectedly after all that time.’
‘Yes,’ he replied woodenly at last. ‘It blew up in my face that day without any warning. You, and Sandilands. At the time I didn’t realize it was you who was the greater threat.’
‘You thought of him as a threat? Of course, he said he was going to look into the crash when he got back to the States.’ There was a silence which stretched between them, taut as an elastic band which eventually must snap. ‘It was lucky for you he died, wasn’t it?’
His eyes didn’t leave her face. ‘I suppose you could say that.’ He waited, every nerve screaming, for her next comment, but when it came, it was not what he was expecting and he raised his arm to brush away the sweat that was running into his eyes.
‘Did you kill her, Lewis?’
When he could speak, he said jaggedly, ‘I meant to kill us both. I still don’t know how I came out of it alive. God knows, I didn’t intend to.’
‘A suicide pact?’
‘Not exactly. I hadn’t discussed it with her.’
‘Tell me.’
He took an automatic gulp of coffee and almost gagged at the unexpected coldness of it. ‘You know most of it. As I told you, she was slowly beginning to come round to my way of thinking. Not Paris, perhaps, but I think she might have written to Clark and told him the position. He’d always said he wouldn’t stand in her way. It would have been unpleasant, of course, “Hero’s wife deserts him as he fights for democracy”—all that crap, but we could have lived it down. We’d have left the States anyway.’ He grimaced. ‘We might have come here and reclaimed Four Winds. That would really have appealed to her. Anyway, I heard on the radio that he’d been wounded and would be flown home as soon as he’d recovered enough to travel. I went straight round to her apartment.’ He put his hands suddenly over his face. ‘Don’t make me go through that again.’
‘She said that under the circumstances it was out of the question to leave him; that you should go to Paris as you’d intended and try to forget about her; that in time the worst of the pain would fade.’
‘Exactly,’ he agreed. ‘You might have been there!’ His eyes went over her dully. ‘Perhaps you were.’
‘What then?’
‘Oh, I lost my head. Said she couldn’t really have loved me in the first place, all the usual recriminations. It was unfair. I knew how she felt, but I was so appalled at the thought of losing her. She was very white and composed and the more I ranted and raved, the calmer she became. In the end I flung out of the house.’
‘Yes?’
‘Well, I drank myself insensible and went on drinking more or less continuously for two or three days. I did think of doing away with myself, but I knew she’d feel she was to blame. The only solution seemed for both of us to die, together. At the time it seemed quite logical. Then I heard they were flying Balfour home and I had to move quickly. I rang Noel, told her we couldn’t part as we had and suggested she should drive out with me to a motel we’d used before for a last evening together. She agreed, of course, and picked me up in her car. I hadn’t one in New York. The traffic frightened the daylights out of me.’
‘And you put something in the drinks?’
‘In hers, yes. I’d worked out it would take effect before we got back home.’
‘Why not in yours too?’
‘Because I wanted to be fully conscious of every minute that I had left with her. And because if something went wrong and she passed out earlier, I had to have my wits about me to get her out of the car.’
‘You didn’t mind the thought of being conscious when you actually crashed?’
‘No. In a perverted kind of way I was almost looking forward to it—going out with one hell of a bang.’
She looked at him with a kind of wonder and then asked, ‘What did you use? Sleeping pills?’
‘Yes, ground down.’
‘It didn’t occur to you that you might have caused a serious accident involving other people?’
‘No,’ he replied with devastating candour, ‘I didn’t think of anyone but ourselves. I can remember every detail of that evening, with her breaking down at last as I seemed to be resigned, pleading with me to say that I understood, that in time we’d be able to think of each other without pain and just be grateful for what we’d had, that we weren’t the first people to fall in love and have to part. You know the kind of thing.’
‘And none of it made you change your mind?’
‘No. Quite simply, I didn’t believe it. I didn’t want to live without her, and I convinced myself that despite what she said, she felt the same. It was just to be a way of putting us both out of our misery.’
‘When did the powder begin to take effect?’
‘Just before we left. She said she felt sleepy. It was very hot in the motel and we went out to the car. I held her for the last time—’ His voice shook. ‘We both knew that, but for different reasons. We stayed there for quite a while, partly because I couldn’t bear to let her go and partly to be sure the powder was working. She did say at one stage, ‘I don’t think I’m fit to drive,’ but I told her she was in better shape than I was. In a way it was true. And I think that by that time she didn’t really care what happened either. I remember watching the silent tears pouring down her face, and I was glad, glad that neither of us had to go on much longer.’ He was silent for a long time, then he said abruptly, ‘You know the rest—exactly as you dreamt it.’
‘You were flung clear?’
‘Yes, well clear into some bushes. I was knocked out cold but—can you believe it—except for a few bruises and scratches I wasn’t hurt at all. Physically, that is. Can you begin to imagine how I felt when I realized what had happened? The car burst into flames almost immediately, apparently, when the petrol tank exploded, and someone was on the scene straightaway. They made a cursory examination round about, according to the next day’s papers, but they didn’t find me in my bushes and so obviously they assumed she’d been alone. By the time I came round, all the hoo-ha had died down, they’d taken her away and towed off what was left of the car. I remember wandering along in the middle of the highway waiting for some vehicle to knock me down, but I must have had the proverbial drunkard’s protection, because none did. Eventually a car drew up alongside and the driver said, ‘You sure look in need of a lift home, buddy!’ I tried to resist him but he hauled me inside and I remember mumbling the name of the hotel where I was staying. So that was that. I seemed unable to get myself killed.’
‘And no one ever suspected you were involved with her?’
‘No one. Her “untouchable” reputation certainly stood her in good stead. Also, of course, we’d been quite fanatic about only meeting in out-of-the-way places, and she always insisted on wearing dark glasses.’
‘So what happened?’
‘There were headlines in all the papers, poor old Balfour had to be told, one helluva fuss. I was in a state of total shock. A couple of days later Ed Berry, one of my contacts, called for me to join their party flying to California to hear Kennedy. I was like a zombie, I just did what I was told, so I went with them. But
immediately after the shooting, I simply went under. I was in hospital in Los Angeles for weeks, getting psychiatric treatment, shock therapy, the lot. They told me afterwards they didn’t think I’d make it. For myself, I’d rather not have done.’
‘And the truth of Noel’s death never came out.’
‘No. On that flight to Los Angeles I heard Ed and the others talking about it. There’d been one or two reports in the press that other motorists had thought there were two people in the car, and also that she’d been driving erratically before the accident, but the fire ruled out any possibility of testing for alcohol or anything, so they never discovered the presence of the sleeping pills. God only knows what raised old Sandilands’ suspicions.’ His eyes went intently to her face. ‘Did he say any more about it, that night you had dinner with him?’
‘A little, I think, more or less what you’ve just said yourself, about people reporting there was someone else in the car. He’d deduced it could have been a lover, but surely he wouldn’t have been able to prove anything after so long?’
‘I don’t know.’
He watched the change come over her, almost uncaring. Her hands flattened on the table as she levered herself slowly to her feet, while her face seemed to cave in on itself, making nose and chin unnaturally prominent.
‘But,’ she whispered at last, ‘you couldn’t afford to take the chance. Could you?’
‘As you say.’
‘You killed him! That nice, pleasant little man—’
‘Laura, I’d no choice. If he started ferreting around, the man who took me home that night might suddenly remember finding someone wandering in a dazed condition in that area. And if he also remembered which hotel he took me to, the rest would be easy. God, haven’t I paid enough already? What further punishment do I deserve?’
‘So you killed him,’ she repeated. She seemed unable to take it in. She seemed far more shocked by this revelation than by his admittance of causing Noel’s death. Possibly the personal element came into it.
‘I’d intended to do it the previous evening, in case he said anything more to you. Not that you’d have had any reason to connect it with me, of course. However, I didn’t get the opportunity then so it had to be the Tuesday. I saw you all drive away—’
‘And it was all for nothing, anyway. Fenella will probably dig it out now, if it’s possible to dig anything.’
‘His assistant? Yes, I didn’t realize how closely she was involved until that evening I had dinner at Four Winds and then, since she was flying back to the States the next day, it was too late to do anything about it.’
‘Thank God!’ Her voice cracked.
His chair jarred on the floor. ‘Don’t look at me like that! Noel, are you there? You see, don’t you, that it was for your sake too?’
Laura said through paper-white lips, ‘You’re mad!’
He came swiftly round the table and seized her arms. ‘Noel! Do you understand?’
She struggled frantically to free her body from his vice-like grip and her mind from the cloudy advent of Noel. ‘Let me go! Lewis, let me go!’ And then, as body and mind both succumbed to greater forces, she relaxed in his arms and he heard her say, ‘It’s all right, baby. Of course I understand.’
‘Noel—she might tell someone—’
‘No, sweetheart, I won’t let her. It’s all right.’ She was holding him now, soothing and calm, and gradually his tumultuous breathing quietened. At last Laura moved away from him.
‘Noel?’
‘It’s Laura, Lewis. I must go. Edward has to attend a dinner in Sussex tonight, so Toby and Janet are going back with him and he’ll spend the night at their house. I promised I’d be back in time to say good-bye.’
Her manner was as calm and normal as if the preceding hour had been wiped from her mind. How much did she remember?
‘You look all in,’ she said gently. ‘Go back to bed and try to rest.’
He ran a hand wearily through his hair. ‘I might. What about this evening? Since your brother and his family will have gone—’
‘I suppose it will be all right. Caroline’s playing bridge this afternoon, but she’ll be back about six. Come and have dinner with us like you did before.’
He looked at her blankly, remembering from a great distance last night’s renewed desire for Caroline. Had it really only been last night? How they entangled him, the three of them—Caroline exciting his body, Noel clinging to his mind, Laura seemingly in possession of both mind and body. Which of them would claim him in the end?
She had taken hold of his arm and an anxious frown. ‘Lewis—are you all right? Will you come for dinner this evening?’
‘Yes,’ he mumbled, ‘I’ll come.’ After she had gone, he barely remembered stumbling upstairs and falling across the bed. It was more like a drugged coma than normal sleep, and it lasted until well into the afternoon. He awoke to find the full force of the sun pouring down on him and his shirt plastered against his chest.
He sat up slowly and looked at his watch. Half-past three. He must have slept for over four hours. He went back downstairs, stopping short as he saw his own and Laura’s mugs still on the table, half full of cold coffee. God, he’d hoped that was all some weird kind of dream. Had it been to Laura he had confessed Sandilands’ murder, or to Noel? Surely it was Laura who had stood staring at him with such horror. But Noel had promised to see to it and certainly Laura’s attitude when she left him had been devoid of any hint of accusation. All he could do was trust to Noel and hope for the best.
As it happened, Caroline was approaching Four Winds from the direction of Ledbrook as he turned into the gateway himself. He got out of the car and went over to her as she drew to a halt in the driveway. She had a wide white band across her gold hair and her smooth brown arms jingled with gold bracelets. After weeks of attention riveted on Laura’s pale, colourless little form, Caroline was vividly beautiful and his colour-starved eyes feasted on her in sensuous delight.
‘If you keep staring at me like that, you’ll make me blush!’ she commented, looking up at him with, he felt, deliberate provocation.
‘I was just thinking you look good enough to eat!’
‘I think crab salad would be more nourishing. That’s all you’ll be offered, anyway!’
‘And for dessert?’ He opened the door of the car and helped her out. Her bare arm was silky-smooth under his fingers. For an instant her deep blue eyes stared tantalizingly back at him. His hand tightened, drew her fractionally towards him.
‘Strawberries and cream!’ she replied, and laughed.
His breathing quickened. ‘No choice?’
‘Positively none. You made your choice some time ago.’
‘Caroline, I was out of my mind! You can’t—’
‘Sh!’ She glanced over his shoulder and he felt her stiffen. Turning, he saw that Laura was standing watching them from the doorway.
Part 4
Noel
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
All through dinner she watched them playing their little game, Caroline careless and provocative, Lewis intent on her every word and movement, and the hurt bewildered anger spread through her like a creeping fire. After all this, after all these years of searching, when they had finally come together again, this woman had only to toss her lovely head and glance at him invitingly under her long eyelids for him to give up all pretence and devote his entire attention to her. They were lovers, she was sure of it now, and the throbbing shafts of jealousy thrust down inside her until she almost cried out.
Caroline said, ‘Laura, you’re not eating a thing. Aren’t you hungry?’
She looked back at her with choking hatred and resentment. ‘No.’ Why, why had she agreed to Lewis coming here this evening, when Edward was away?
‘Don’t you feel well?’
The words triggered off a warning inside her head. The next step would be to suggest she went to lie down, leaving them alone.
‘I’m all right,’ she said sullenl
y.
Lewis smiled at her with absent-minded kindness. ‘It’s probably the heat. It is very oppressive.’
The leaden weight settled somewhere in her stomach. It was understandable, of course. Much as he still loved her, he could not completely accept the manifestations of her presence, and she knew despairingly that the more she made that presence felt, the more she was in danger of driving him into Caroline’s arms. A spirit without a body was not enough after all. If Laura were as attractive as Caroline, she might have more chance of sustaining his interest, for Lewis had always been susceptible to a woman’s beauty. But it was Laura’s very insignificance that had made the take-over so easy; Caroline’s was stronger in every way.
She pushed her chair back. ‘Let’s go in the garden, Lewis. At least there might be a bit of a breeze there.’
He hesitated, his eyes still on Caroline. ‘Do you feel up to working?’
‘Of course.’
Caroline said carelessly, ‘Off you go then, and Mrs. Baines can clear the table. Don’t worry about me. I have some letters to write.’ She turned dismissively away to replace the stopper in the wine decanter.
They went together out through the open French windows and across to the pear tree.
‘Lewis!’ There was frustrated despair in the cry and he turned to her in surprise. ‘What do I have to do to make you notice me? This?’ She caught hold of his face between her hands and dragged it down to her lips. For a moment he was stiff and unyielding, then, as she asserted herself, his arms came tightly round her. This, then, was the answer—a body of her own for him to hold again.
After a while, Laura opened heavy eyelids to find him scanning her face.
‘When we were talking this morning—’ he began anxiously.
‘About Mr. Sandilands?’
‘So you do remember. I shouldn’t have told you, I realize that now. It’s too much of a burden. You might feel—’
She laid a finger on his lips. ‘I promised, didn’t I?’
His mouth twisted. ‘One of you did!’
Laura Possessed Page 15
