FIFTEEN
Eagler opened his oysters, but they were barren of pearls. He concluded, as Pucinelli had done, that none of the arrested men had known Giuseppe-Peter before the day he recruited one of them in a pub.
'Does Giuseppe-Peter speak English?' I asked.
'Yes, apparently, enough to get by. Hewlitt understood him, right enough.
'Who's Hewlitt?'
'Kidnapper. The voice on the ransom tape. Voice prints made and matched. Hewlitt has a record as long as your arm, but for burglary, not anything like this. The other two are in the same trade; housebreaking, nicking silver and antiques. They finally gave their names, once they saw we'd got them to rights. Now they're busy shoving all the blame onto Peter, but they don't know much about him,'
'Were they paid at all? I asked.
'They say not, but they're lying. They got some on account, must have. Stands to reason.'
'I suppose Giuseppe-Peter didn't telephone the house in Itchenor, did he?'
There was dead silence from Eagler. Embarrassment, I diagnosed.
'He did,' I suggested, 'and got a policeman?'
'Well… there was one call from someone unknown.'
'But you got a recording?'
'All he said,' said Eagler resignedly, 'was 'Hello'. My young PC thought it was someone from the station and answered accordingly, and the caller rang off.'
'Can't be helped,' I said.
'No.'
'Did Hewlitt say how Giuseppe-Peter knew of him? I mean, you can't go up to a perfect stranger in a British pub and proposition them to kidnap.'
'On that subject Hewlitt is your proverbial silent stone. There's no way he's going to say who put him up. There's some things, laddie, one just can't find out. Let's just say that there are a lot of Italians in London, where Hewlitt lives, and there's no way he's going to point the finger at any of them.'
'Mm,' I said. 'I do see that.'
I telephoned Alessia to ask how she was feeling and found her full of two concerns: the first, her own plans for a come-back race, and second, the predicament of Miranda and Dominic.
'Miranda's so miserable and I don't know how to help her,' she said. 'John Nerrity's being thoroughly unreasonable in every way, and he and Miranda are now sleeping in different rooms, because he won't have Dominic sleeping in the room with them, and Dominic won't sleep by himself.'
'Quite a problem,' I agreed.
'Mind you, I suppose it's difficult for both of them. Dominic wakes up crying about five times every night, and won't go to sleep again unless Miranda strokes him and talks to him, and she says she's getting absolutely exhausted by it, and John is going on and on about sending Dominic to hospital.' She paused. 'I can't ask Popsy to have her here to stay. I simply don't know what to do.'
'Hm… How much do you like Miranda?'
'Quite a lot. More than I expected, to be honest.'
'And Dominic?'
'He's a sweetheart. Those terrific eyes. I love him.'
I paused, considering, and she said, 'What are you thinking? What should Miranda do?'
'Is her mother still with her?'
'No. She has a job and doesn't seem to be much help.'
'Does Miranda have any money except what John gives her?'
'I don't know. But she was his secretary.'
'Yeah. Well… Miranda should take Dominic to a doctor I know of, and she should go and stay for a week near someone supportive like you that she can be with for a good deal of every day. And I don't know how much of that is possible.'
'I'll make it possible,' Alessia said simply.
I smiled at the telephone. She sounded so whole, her own problems submerged under the tidal wave of Dominic's.
'Don't let Miranda mention my name to her husband in connection with any plan she makes,' I said. 'I'm not in favour with him, and if he knew I'd suggested anything he'd turn it down flat.'
'But you brought Dominic back!
'Much to his embarrassment. He'd sacked us two days earlier.'
She laughed. 'All right. What's the name of the doctor?'
I told her, and also told her I'd telephone the doctor myself, to explain the background and verify Dominic's need.
'You're a poppet,' Alessia said.
'Oh sure. What was it you said about going racing?'
'I rode out with the string today and yesterday, and I can't understand why I didn't do it sooner. I'm riding work for Mike Noland tomorrow, and he says if I'm fit and OK he'll give me a ride next week at Salisbury.'
' Salisbury… races?' I said.
'Yes, of course.'
'And, um, do you want an audience?'
'Yes, I do.'
'You've got it.'
She said goodbye happily and in the evening rang me at home in my flat.
'It's all fixed,' she said. 'Miranda said your doctor sounded a darling, and she's taking Dominic there first thing tomorrow. Then she's coming straight down here to Lambourn. I've got her a room in a cottage owned by a retired nanny, who I went to see, and who's pleased with the whole idea, and John raised no objections, absolutely the contrary, he's paying for everything.'
Terrific,' I said, with admiration.
'And Popsy wants you down again. And so does Miranda. And so do I.'
'I give in, then. When?'
'Soon as you can.'
I went on the following day and also twice more during the following week. Dominic slept better because of a mild liquid sleeping draught in his nightly bottle of milk and progressed to eating chocolate drops and, later, mashed bananas. The ex-nanny patiently took away rejected scrambled eggs and fussed over Miranda in a way which would have worn my nerves thin but in that love- deprived girl produced a grateful dependency.
Alessia spent much of every day with them, going for walks, shopping in the village, all of them lunching most days with Popsy, sunbathing in the cottage garden.
'You're a clever clogs, aren't you?' Popsy said to me on my third visit.
'How do you mean?'
'Giving Alessia something so worthwhile to do.'
'It was accidental, really.'
'And encouraged.'
I grinned at her. 'She looks great, doesn't she?'
'Marvellous. I keep thinking about those first days when she was so deathly pale and shaky. She's just about back to her old self now.'
'Has she driven anywhere yet, on her own?'
Popsy glanced at me. 'No. Not yet.'
'One day she will.'
'And then?'
'Then she'll fly… away.'
I heard in my voice what I hadn't intended or expected to be there: a raw sense of loss. It was all very well mending birds' broken wings. They could take your heart off with them when you set them free.
She wouldn't need me, I'd always known it, once her own snowstorm had settled. I could have tried, I supposed, to turn her dependence on me into a love affair, but it would have been stupid: cruel to her, unsatisfactory to me. She needed to grow safely back to independence and I to find a strong and equal partner. The clinging with the clung-to wasn't a good proposition for long-term success.
We were all at that moment out in Popsy's yard, with Alessia taking Miranda slowly round and telling her about each horse as they came to it. Dominic by then had developed enough confidence to stand on the ground, though he hung onto Miranda's clothes permanently with one hand and needed lifting to her hip at the approach of any stranger. He had still not said anything else, but day by day, as the fright level slowly declined, it became more likely that he soon would.
Popsy and I strolled behind the two girls and on an impulse I squatted down to Dominic's height and said, 'Would you like a ride on my shoulders?'
Miranda encouragingly swept up Dominic and perched him on me with one leg past each ear.
'Hold on to Andrew's hair,' Alessia said, and I felt the little fingers gripping as I stood upright.
I couldn't see Dominic's face, but everyone else was smiling, so I simply set off very slowly past the boxes, so he could see the inmates over the half doors.
'Lovely horses,' Miranda said, half anxiously. 'Big horses, darling, look.'
We finished the tour of the yard in that fashion and when I lifted Dominic down he stretched up his arms to go up again. I hoisted him onto my left arm, my face level with his. 'You're a good little boy,' I said.
