Dark Room

He cupped his hands around the little dog, turned him over and set him on his feet on the floor, then he picked up his notes and sorted through them. 'I spoke to her yesterday,' he told them. 'She talked about her car crash, said she didn't think she'd been trying to kill herself.' He isolated a page. 'She said: 'It seems very out of character.' Then she went on: 'If I wasn't trying to kill myself, someone else must have been trying to kill me.' ' He looked up. 'Did you see anyone come to her house that Sunday? Did you hear anyone? Did you notice anything when you let yourself in through the front door?'

Colonel Clancey shook his head regretfully. 'No,' he admitted.

Fraser felt oddly disappointed. 'Okay,' he said, 'then let's move on to Monday, June the thirteenth.'

'I did,' said Mrs. Clancey, with a faraway look in her eyes. She drew them back from whatever memory she was observing to gaze with fixed concentration on the Sergeant. 'I did,' she repeated. 'How very strange-I'd forgotten all about it. I was so worried about Eric having a heart attack when he was pulling Jinx out of her car that it quite went out of my head.' She leaned forward, her pale old eyes suddenly alight with excitement. 'Goebbels went into the house with Eric,' she said, 'and I could hear him barking his little head off. Well, of course I thought he was with Eric, but the next thing I knew, he was rushing up the path from the back garden, barking and snarling as if he were looking for someone. Well, you know the noise dogs make when they're after an intruder. He must have jumped out of the window in the drawing room, and that means,' she said firmly, 'that someone had jumped out before him, probably when Goebbels first raised the alarm. Certainly the drawing room window was open when we took Jinx inside. I closed it myself when she was making her phone call.'

'Well done, old thing,' said the Colonel approvingly. 'Bound to be what it was all about. Some bastard was trying to do away with her. Nothing else makes sense.'

'Then why didn't Jinx tell you that?' said Fraser reluctantly. 'She wasn't suffering from amnesia then.'

'Made a big fuss of Goebbels, you know, after I told her he was the one who alerted us to what was happening. Nearly squashed the poor little bugger.'

'Still...' The whole scenario was idiotic, Fraser told himself, but he felt drawn to continue. 'Look, you don't put a conscious person in a car and start the ignition in the hopes of them being silly enough to sit there until they die? She'd have to be unconscious.'

'She said her head was hurting.'

'Then someone must have hit her first. So why didn't she report it to the police?'

There was another silence.

'Because,' said Mrs. Clancey stoutly, 'she knew the person very well and couldn't believe they had meant to hurt her. No harm had come to her, after all, and Eric went on and on about it being a silly accident. It's human nature to assume the best, you know.'

'Or,' said Colonel Clancey reflectively, 'she had more important things to do than answer police questions. As I said, very independent woman, Jinx. Probably thought she had the situation under control. I mean, who was the telephone call to? Seemed perfectly straightforward at the time, but now-well worth looking into, I'd say.'

Fraser made a note. 'When did you next see her?'

The old man looked at his wife. 'I don't remember seeing her again. The next we knew, the police were banging on our door on the Tuesday, telling us she was in hospital.'

Fraser eyed them both thoughtfully. 'Your neighbor tried to commit suicide and you didn't check up on her?'

'Suicide wasn't mentioned until the Tuesday,' said the Colonel sharply. 'Far as we knew, it was a silly accident. Kept an eye out, naturally, but there was nothing untoward happening. Weren't going to make a nuisance of ourselves when the poor girl probably felt like a prize ass.'

HARRIS & HENNESSEY, SOHO, LONDON-12:30 P.M.

Josh Hennessey, who, despite his threats on Meg's answering machine to withdraw from the partnership, was still working to keep the business alive, greeted Sergeant Fraser with little enthusiasm. 'I've already told you everything I know,' he said, ruffling his hair into a crest and staring sourly at the man in front of him.

Fraser explained the purpose of his visit. 'If you have a business diary,' he suggested, 'it might speed things up a little. I need as accurate a timetable of Meg's movements as possible.'

With bad grace Hennessey took a book from his desk drawer and rustled through the pages. 'Okay, these are Meg's appointments. Monday, May thirty: nothing. It was a bank holiday. Tuesday, May thirty-one: blank. But it's crossed through with a blue pencil, so that means she'll have been working in her office.'

'Do you remember her being here, sir?'

'No,' said Josh curtly. 'It was three weeks ago and Meg and I have worked together for years. How am I supposed to remember one day amongst thousands? In any case, if I was out I wouldn't have known.'

'Were you out?'

He glanced at the diary. 'According to this I was in Windsor, recruiting.'

'Are the blue lines reliable? Would she cross a day through even if she hadn't been in the office?'

'Yes, if it suited her.'

'Okay, go on.'

'Wednesday, June one: ten o'clock, Bill Riley, Twelve Connaught Street. All-day meeting. Thursday-'

'One moment, sir,' Fraser broke in. 'Did she keep that appointment?'

'It's crossed through, which, in theory, means it was dealt with.' He shrugged. 'Okay, yes. Considering the amount of time I've spent since on that one customer, she was probably there until midnight sorting out his personnel problems. Mind you,' he admitted grudgingly, 'it's keeping us afloat at the moment. Precious little else is.'

'Fair enough. Thursday,' Fraser prompted.