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"Which was?"
"I said she should set the police to watching her flat and to keep
herself out of sight until they caught the old girl again. It seemed the
most obvious thing to do, but she was that panicked."
"Did Miss Francher know of this?"
"I saw no need to trouble her with my personal problems. I told her
Maureen was an old friend dropping by for a visit and she was content
with that."
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It sounded as though Emily Francher had been remarkably accommodating
for one who demanded such privacy, and I speculated that he might have
influenced her into her contentment. "How long did Maureen stay?"
"She didn't. I invited her to remain as long as she liked until they
found Gaylen, and she accepted. With a place this big, there are any
number of rooms she'd be safe and comfortable in, especially my own,
which is well locked and fireproofed. The servants have standing orders
never to go inside and they are paid enough not to be overly curious."
"Convenient." Again, I figured he'd have insured himself by slipping
them some quiet suggestions on the side.
"Indeed. Maureen turned down the offer and picked another room. I saw
that she was settled, did some work of my own, and stopped by to say
good night and to see if she needed anything. She did not, so I went to
bed."
"You saw her?"
"I called through the door and she answered."
That struck us both as odd and he knew it.
"She didn't really want to see me," he admitted.
"Why's that?" I asked.
"We had a disagreement, more of a quiet fight, really. She didn't
approve of my job and I told her it was none of her business how I chose
to live. Things rapidly deteriorated from there."
"And she still accepted your invitation to stay the day?"
"By then it was too late for her to go elsewhere; the time had gotten
away from us. She stayed, but left right after sunset the next night. By
the time I was up and about, she was gone."
"Without a good-bye?"
"Or even a thank-you. She must have been very angry with me, but then I
was hardly feeling like a good Christian toward her myself."
"How did she leave?"
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"Same as she came; by taxi."
"Do you know where she went?"
"No."
"Anyone else see her leave?"
"Mayfair--that's the gardener--had to let them in and out. You may ask
him if you like, though I warn you he's got a brain like a block of
Swiss cheese."
"And you never tried to contact her?"
"I called her flat a few times, but she was never home. Later on when I
called, someone else had rented the place. She never called or wrote, I
expect she never wanted to see me again." He'd drifted away, as though
he were talking to himself. I wasn't the only one Maureen had hurt.
"Did you ever think that Gaylen might have found her?"
"Not seriously, no. Once Maureen had a little time to get over her
upset, I knew she'd be able to take care of herself."
"Was your disagreement serious enough for her to cut you off just like
that?"
"I suppose it was, from her point of view. No woman likes to see herself
supplanted by another in a man's heart, even a man she's long ago
discarded."
"Are you referring to your employer?" asked Escott in that carefully
neutral tone of his, which meant he thought his question was important.
Barrett fastened him with a cold eye. "As I told Maureen, that is none
of your business."
Escott dropped the subject for another. "What about the phone call for
Maureen you received the next night?"
"Call?"
"From her friend. Maureen gave her the number of this house as though
she expected to be here for a time."
"Oh, that. I remember."
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"You gave this person the impression Maureen was still here."
"I think I offered to take a message and I wanted to know who was
calling. I was curious and I thought she might be involved with Gaylen
in some way. Who was it?"
"She was not involved with Gaylen and she asked that we not mention her
name."
He shrugged, uninterested.
"Are you not curious about Maureen and what happened to her?"
"Of course I am, why d'ye think I got the two of you in here to start
with? A lot of good it's done me since you've no news of her--or have
you?"
"Regrettably, we do not."
"That's no surprise." He turned his attention to me. "How well did you
know her?"
"Very well."
"That's evident, laddie. You must have been something special to her
altogether. So why hasn't she tried to contact you, eh? Had a fight with
her, too?"
"She left to protect me from Gaylen, that's all I know."
"And you said you met Gaylen?"
"She met me."
"What about her? Did the asylum finally catch up with her? You said she
was caught?"
I glanced at Escott. He left it up to me. "I said she was no longer a
threat. She's dead."
He thought it over for a time, reading more off my face than I felt
comfortable about. "How, then, did it happen? How did she come to find
you?"
"It doesn't matter, she just did. She thought I might know where Maureen
was, but I couldn't help her."
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"Perhaps not to find Maureen, maybe she wanted your help in other
ways--and don't look so dark, laddie, I knew her, too, and far better. I
knew what she wanted and how badly she wanted it, and if you turned her
down, I shan't think ill of you. I said she was sick. Sometimes death is
the best cure for her kind of misery. You did turn her down? She really
is dead?"
"She is," confirmed Escott. "Heart failure."
I felt my face twisting in reaction. Maybe not all of the nightmare had
left; something perverse inside me wanted to laugh. I got up and walked
to the French windows instead. The pool lights were out and the blond
swimmer was long gone. The water was still and smooth.
"Death is the best cure sometimes," Barrett repeated. "It keeps her from
passing her sickness on to others and making them miserable in turn. One
can hope for as much at least."
Some distance beyond the pool was a bare, fenced yard with a few trees
in it and the dark, rounded shapes of horses dozing on their feet. No
doubt they were part of Barrett's food supply. It was very convenient
and comfortable for him to have such an obliging patroness.
I could understand Maureen's reaction to it all. In her day she had been
well off and certainly attractive. Then Barrett came into her life,
offering her love and a possibility of eternal youth in exchange for her
money and protection. It could have been that way, an old story with a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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