Unfortunately, this assumption proved correct. I reached past him for my weapon only to feel his arms come once more around my waist. Only this time it was no passionate embrace.
* * *
14 The sandwiches and cakes really had been very small. More suitable for a pigeon than a woman with a healthy appetite. On reflection Richenda wouldn’t have to have even opened her mouth to consume them. She could have simply inhaled.
15 I had never before in my life had occasion to be sultry and I feared it was an act that needed practice.
16 Needless to say, all such escapades were entirely the fault of Fitzroy. Well, if not the fault, at least the instigation that led me into such situations was always his fault.
Chapter Twelve
I struggled. Of course I did. But I was much, much smaller than Otto. As I tried to break free, he lifted me off my feet.
‘What are you about?’ he cried. ‘Who sent you?’
Midair I fought even harder for my freedom. I tried to twist from side to side, but to no avail. He held me fast.
What happened next came as a surprise to both of us. This uncomfortable embrace, the pressure of his arms against my body, became familiar – and without conscious thought I raised my left foot high and then drove it backwards with all my force against his knee, which gave sickeningly. As an extra measure, for I have always been an attentive student regardless of subject, I threw my head back, making hard contact with Otto’s nose
Just before Otto collapsed onto the bed, several sounds occurred at the same time. I believe I made some kind of cry. Otto gave an ‘oof’ of pain and I heard the crack of his nose breaking. He released me as he fell, and I dropped to the floor.
At this point Fitzroy burst through the door in the most indiscreet manner possible. The door behind him swung loosely on one hinge. I barely noticed this. On all fours I reached to snatch the handkerchief and finish the job.
Yet again I failed to retrieve the accursed cloth. This time it was Fitzroy who caught hold of me, half-lifting, half-carrying me over to a chair. As I sat, I saw his face had gone white as a sheet.
‘The door,’ I said, ‘someone will see.’
‘Bugger the door,’ he said, reaching up a hand behind my head and peering into my eyes. ‘How badly are you hurt?’ He brought his hand back wet with blood. I looked at it blankly for a moment.
‘Alice, where does it hurt?’ he said urgently.
I blinked. ‘That’s not mine. I think I broke his nose.’ Only at this point did I realise Fitzroy had paid no attention to Otto. He had been solely focused on me.
‘I am well,’ I said. ‘My head is a trifle sore and I may have a bruise, but nothing more. The door?’
Fitzroy swore again, rather more crudely17 and went to prop the door back into the frame. ‘That will have to do,’ he said, marching over to Otto. He leant over the bed, checking the fallen man. ‘Well, I’m happy to say you haven’t killed him.’
‘I only did what you showed me,’ I said in a rather small voice.
‘Right. We’d better roll him up in the bedspread. With luck the blood hasn’t seeped through yet to the sheets. I’d suggest stuffing a pillow over his nose to stop him dripping, but that really would finish what you’ve started.’
‘Did I do something wrong?’ I asked standing up.
Fitzroy looked up at me. I watched as the tense expression faded from his face. ‘I am presuming you improvised after some mishap?’
‘The clasp would not open... he offered to open it...’ I didn’t get much further. The room tilted to a strange angle and I sat back down again quickly. Light danced in front of my eyes and I felt rather queer.
The next thing I knew there was a dreadful smell under my nose. Fitzroy recorked a bottle of smelling salts. ‘No time for fainting, Alice. We have to get him out of here and downstairs. Wait a moment.’ I sat there attempting to coalesce my thoughts. Get Otto downstairs? How? Why? Why had I never asked what we were going to do with the man?
Fitzroy reappeared with a damp towel. ‘Lean forward. I have to get this blood off you.’ Under his efforts the towel turned a violent shade of red. ‘Sit there, while I wrap him up.’
He bundled Otto up in the counterpane, tucking the towel in with him, but not over his face. Once he had the bundle as neat as he wished, he stepped back and looked at me appraisingly. ‘You’ll need to hold the door open for me when I come back.’ With that he left. I picked up the bag and handkerchief and put one inside the other. ‘Now,’ came an urgent voice at the door. I opened it and Fitzroy wheeled in a large wicker basket. ‘Stroke of luck I found this,’ he said. ‘I thought you and I were going to have to lug him down the back stairs. And you’re in no state to do that. Help me lift him in. Take the feet. No, the other end.’
We got him into the laundry basket in what, under other circumstances, would have been a farcical manner. ‘It’s easy to push,’ said Fitzroy. ‘I’ll go first and wave you on if the way is clear. There’s a staff elevator not too far away. If fortune favours us, we’ll brush thought this all right.’
‘What about the door?’ I said.
‘Will you forget the bloody door?’ said Fitzroy. ‘It’ll lend credence to the idea he’s been abducted.’
‘We are abducting him,’ I pointed out.
‘No, we’re not,’ said Fitzroy. ‘We’re not criminals. We are agents of the Crown and we do not commit criminal acts.
Now come on.’
Between us we navigated the corridor, got into the lift and back down to our own floor. The whole experience was extremely nerve-wracking, but we managed to avoid all other living souls. Finally, we wheeled the basket into our room.
‘What now?’ I asked.
‘Open the window. He should be waiting.’
I heaved up the sash to see a motor car drawn up tight to the wall. ‘Hi-ho,’ said a chipper, fresh-faced young man. ‘How jolly, a girl. I believe you have a delivery for me.’
Fitzroy wheeled the hamper over and between us we hoisted Otto through the window. I could feel laughter bubbling up inside me. I had to bite my lip to prevent myself from dissolving into hysterics. The receiving young gentleman struggled manfully with the package and wrestled it onto his backseat where he threw a rug over it. ‘How long will he be out, do you think?’ he asked Fitzroy.
‘Ask her. She knocked him out.’
‘Golly gosh,’ said the driver. ‘Nice bit of work. I’d better tootle. Never can tell with a concussion how long it’s liable to last.’ And with that he hopped into the driving seat and drove off. I half expected him to sound his horn in farewell and wave goodbye to us, perhaps issuing an invitation to a game of tennis or tea over his shoulder as he left, but he did not.
I sat down in another of the hotel’s comfortable chairs. Fitzroy pulled my shawl out of the laundry hamper and passed it to me. ‘You should pin that back on before you catch your death,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back in a moment when I’ve got rid of this thing.’
When he had gone, I took a look at myself in the mirror and once again came near to fainting. No wonder the young man in the car had looked so delighted to see me. I hoisted up my dress, and by the time Fitzroy returned, I had my shawl pinned tightly on.
‘I preferred it the other way.’
‘You are outrageous,’ I said.
‘You forgot to pick up your shawl, which could have caused us both a lot of trouble.’ ‘You were late,’ I countered.
‘I was not,’ said Fitzroy, indignation sounding in his voice. ‘How was I to know you could seduce a stranger with such alacrity? You were faster than a lot of pros!’
‘Professional spies?’
‘No, pros.’
‘You mean prostit...’ I picked up a glass from the dressing table and threw it at him. It smashed against the wall. Fitzroy didn’t even blink.
‘Missed by a mile, Alice. Your aim is lousy,’ said the spy. ‘We’ll have to work on that.’
‘You...’ I stalked towards him. Fitzr
oy held up his hands in surrender.
‘Pax. We got the job done. We can talk it over later. I, for one, want a whisky.’ He poured himself one and passed another to me. ‘God knows, I don’t know when I’ve taken part in such a ridiculous set of circumstances. I hope it isn’t always going to be like this with you. I’m not sure I could take it.’
I ignored this. ‘Why did you want him? Am I allowed to know?’
‘Damned if I know,’ said the spy swigging from his glass. ‘Told you it wasn’t my operation. I was simply helping after another couple had to bow out.’
For the first time in my life I felt my jaw drop open.
The corners of Fitzroy’s lips twitched. ‘I know I always come across enigmatic and omniscient, Alice, but the truth –and I’m sorry to break this to you – but the truth is I don’t always know what it is going on, or why it is going on.’
‘You don’t know...’ I said slowly. ‘You don’t know...’ This was the last straw. I could no longer contain myself and broke into laughter. Fitzroy raised his eyebrows, but it wasn’t long before he joined me in my mirth.
‘I’ll give you this, Alice, I laugh more when you’re around.’
‘Drink up. We have to go down to dinner.’
‘After this?’ I said. All humour draining out of my soul.
‘Especially after this. We need to sit down and have a nice supper with all the other nice people here. We have to show we are as nice as the rest. You may confine yourself to womanly trifles. If you get a headache or feel dizzy come over a little tipsy and I’ll take you upstairs.’
‘I am already both,’ I said. ‘My head hurts like billy-o and I’ve already had two whiskies and a glass of champagne.’ I looked at his accusingly. ‘Did you know the tea here has sandwiches and cakes so small you can barely see them on the plate.’
‘Oh Lord,’ said Fitzroy. He went into the en suite and returned with another towel.
‘Do I still have blood in my hair?’
‘No, you are more than halfway to being drunk.’ He placed the towel, which he had managed to get icy cold, across the back of my neck. I would have jumped out of my seat, but he had one heavy hand on my shoulder. So instead I uttered a cry of protest. I immediately felt nauseous. Fortunately, this passed without incident. My fuzziness of mind cleared to a remarkable degree. ‘Unpleasant, I know,’ said Fitzroy, ‘but it does the job. No more alcohol for you tonight.’
‘I have no problem with that,’ I said. ‘I do not even like the stuff.’
‘ Thank goodness for that. If you did, I imagine you would be three sheets to the wind by now.’
Dinner proved to be as dull as Fitzroy had suggested. He paid scandalous attention to the woman seated on the other side of me and ignored me. The gentleman to my right did the same. I sated my hunger and curbed my desire to kick the spy in the shins. After dinner Fitzroy got us a small table in the centre of the bar and left me there with a glass of lemonade. He moved about the room chatting to various men, looking over at me occasionally to ensure I was still in my designated place. I kept my eyes mostly lowered. It felt as if all eyes were on me. After what seemed and age, he appeared at my side and offered me his arm. ‘Time for bed, Alice.’
I rose and walked with him out into the lobby. At this point I presumed we would be making a quick exit to the car, but instead he walked us off smartly to our room. He opened the door and ushered me in. I felt despite my initial impression, I could quickly come to hate hotels. Men seemed to usher me about a lot in them and I did not like it.
He locked the door behind us. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’ll take the floor or maybe the bath. You can have the bed.’
‘We’re staying?’ I said. ‘In the same room?’
‘The world thinks us married.’
‘But...’
‘Don’t worry, Alice. I regard our relationship as purely professional.’
‘Was it professionalism that made you pay so much attention to that blonde at dinner?’
Fitzroy cocked his head on one side and gave me a funny look. ‘I was doing my best to ensure everyone saw where we were meant to be this evening, so that when they discover the kidnapping tomorrow no one will think of questioning us.’
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘Besides, we are meant to married, and from my observation, that generally seems to stymie the conversation.’
‘Do we at least get to stay for breakfast?’ I said.
‘Such interest in food. I fear you have been overly affected by Richenda. Yes, Alice, we get to stay for breakfast. It would look too odd if we didn’t. I suggest you pretend to have a headache from overindulgence. I told several people how I had had to tell the barman to stop serving you.’
I gave him a pained look.
‘All in the name of the Crown, of course.’
I sighed. ‘I won’t have to act. My head is still throbbing.’
Fitzroy reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief. He unfolded it and revealed two tablets. ‘Painkillers,’ he said. ‘I thought you might need them.’
‘Thank you,’ I said and washed them down with the remnants of the whisky I had left in the room earlier. Fitzroy opened his mouth to say something then seemed to change his mind. ‘Get into bed, Alice. I’ll sleep in the bath. Don’t snore.’
I was too tired to respond to this quip. Moments after he closed the bathroom door, I threw off my clothes, not caring if I tore them in the process, and climbed between the sheets. Within moments of my head touching the pillow I was asleep.
* * *
17 Sometimes I did have occasion to wish he acted like a gentleman around me. His knowledge of curse words is extensive and all too explicit.
Chapter Thirteen
I awoke to see Fitzroy, fully dressed, sitting in a chair, studying the notebook I had found in the Mullers’ church. He looked up. ‘Good morning.’
‘Oh no, have I missed breakfast?’
Fitzroy grinned. ‘Such interest in food again. No, you have not. There is plenty of time for us to go down. It’s early. I don’t tend to sleep much.’
I looked pointedly at him.
‘I’m studying your book, not looking at you. Besides, I’ve seen a lady in her night attire before.’
‘I am not wearing any,’ I said, tugging the sheet up tightly.
Fitzroy looked up at me and raised an eyebrow. ‘Really, Alice, you must try not to tumble into bed drunk all the time.’
‘You kept giving me whisky!’
He ignored my comment and waved the book at me. ‘This is rather fun. I thought I’d got it twice, but more and more I’m beginning to think the wretched thing needs a key. By which I mean a name or a phrase.’
‘I presume you have considered all the obvious ones,’ I said in an attempt to speak with some authority in my undressed situation.
‘I think we can presume even Richard would not be so stupid. But, yes, I did try a few. You never know when fortune will favour you. I never thought Richard the brainy type, but he could be cunning.’
‘It is a shame we never found Mrs Wilson’s diary.’
Fitzroy regarded me blankly for a moment. ‘Oh, yes. Sorry. I have to remember a lot of things.’
‘Perhaps you could go down to breakfast before me?’
‘That’s what I intend. However, I suspect we will have to give statements to the police. I rather hope they notice he is missing before we leave. Get that out of the way and then we need to be off.’
I nodded my assent to the plan. He didn’t move. But stared thoughtfully at the wall above my head.
‘Is there anything else?’ I said eventually.
‘What? Oh yes, could you give me a brief summary of what happened between you and old Otto last night? By brief I mean succinct, not missing out details.’
I managed to wiggle a pillow behind my back and pull up the counterpane, so I was facing him better. I then began my tale. As much as possible, I attempted to repeat what we had said verbatim. I
got a nod of approval at the way I handled Otto at the bar. However, the conversation on the landing made him frown. When I mentioned the secret stairs, I thought I heard a muted ‘Oh God’, but I couldn’t be sure. But when I started to explain what had happened in the room before he arrived the ‘Oh Gods’ became louder and more frequent. His head sunk lower and lower, so that by the time I had finished it was in his hands. I stopped and waited for him to respond.
Fitzroy gave a heavy sigh and raised his head. ‘Do you, by any chance, have any idea of what you did wrong? Or even how much danger you were placing yourself in? Did you recognise any of the warnings?’
‘I thought the secret stairs was a bit risky,’ I admitted. ‘But I couldn’t think of a way out of that. And then in the room just before he kissed me... it all got a bit difficult.’
‘A bit difficult,’ said Fitzroy from under a heavy frown. I inched down in the bed slightly. His expression could best be described as thunderous. ‘A bit difficult!’ His voice rose in volume – although I noticed he took care to keep it a level that would defy an eavesdropper. ‘You tried to seduce the man!’
‘You asked me to do so!’
‘I asked you to get him to his room and chloroform him. I said nothing about using husky voices and removing hair pins or articles of clothing. Good God, girl, if Otto hadn’ t been a gentleman at heart, I dread to think what would have happened.’
‘I was improvising,’ I said. I knew my voice sounded angry and rude, but it was either that or burst into tears.
‘And as for kissing him passionately!’
‘By that time what choice did I have?’
‘I might as well have employed a prostitute. She would have been to handle things far more smoothly. If I had known you were willing to take off your clothes, I could have given far simpler instructions. It is much easier to chloroform a man after he has had sex.’
A Death at the Church Page 11
