“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said. “That’s the best I can do.”
“Well, look, don’t stay out here on your own tonight. You’re a good mile from anyone and anywhere. Anything could happen to you out here and no one would be the wiser. Why don’t you come back to my place for tonight? You can doss down on my settee.”
I shook my head.
“Don’t worry about me,” I said. “I’m all right here. Nothing’s going to happen to me until tomorrow. By then I hope it’ll be too late for anything to happen.”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, okay. But it seems to me you’re taking an awful chance.” He produced his wallet and found a card and gave it to me. “That’s my home telephone number. If you want me I’ll be there until eight o’clock tomorrow morning, and from then on I’ll be at the office.”
“Take care of that gun.”
“I’ll go to the office now and park it. Be seeing you.”
“Some time tomorrow.”
“And watch out.”
“Oh, sure.”
I watched him walk down the steps, across the sand to his car. He turned and waved his hand, then he got in the car and drove away. I stood on the verandah watching his red taillights until I lost sight of them.
Chapter 14
I
The moon rode high over the palm trees casting long black shadows. The sea was like a silver mirror. There were only the distant sounds of the traffic passing along the promenade and the gentle movement of the sea.
Standing there on the verandah, looking at the lights of St. Raphael, I had a sense of complete isolation, and I wondered if I shouldn’t have gone with Hepple. If anyone was planning to wipe me out, this lonely bungalow was the place in which to do it.
I put my hands on the verandah rail and hunched my shoulders. I was feeling tired, and it was an effort to drive my mind. I could see the lighted windows of the School of Ceramics away to my right, and I wondered what Hahn or, to give him his real name, Jack Bradshaw, was doing at this moment.
I now knew the mystery behind the match-folder, but knowing that still didn’t make me absolutely sure of Sheppey’s killer. I had a feeling I was right on the brink of knowing who killed him, but there was one piece in the jigsaw puzzle to fall into place before the picture was complete.
There was no point standing out there in the dark. I told myself I might just as well go to bed. There was nothing further I could do until tomorrow.
I turned around and went into the lounge. I shut the french doors and locked them, took the two glasses Hepple and I had used over to the bar and put them down. I looked around to make sure no cigarettes were burning in the ashtrays, then I walked over to the light switch by the door. As my hand reached for the switch, I heard a very faint sound that told me instantly that I was no longer alone in the bungalow.
For a full second I remained motionless, aware that I was frightened and that my mouth had suddenly turned dry. I remembered that I had no gun: Rankin had taken mine, and I had given Bridgette’s gun to Hepple. I recalled what Hepple had said: You’re a good mile from anyone and anywhere. Anything could happen to you here and no one would be the wiser.
The sound had been of someone in the bedroom: the distinct sound of someone’s foot on a loose board: someone moving stealthily.
I snapped off the light and the room turned to darkness.
Through the big window I could see the moon: its light made a big puddle of whiteness on the carpet at the far end of the room, but where I stood was shrouded in darkness.
I stood tense, listening, my heart thumping.
I heard the movement again, still in the bedroom, and then I heard the door creak slightly as it began to open.
“Stay right where you are,” I said, a snarl in my voice, “or you’ll get a slug in your guts!”
As soon as I had spoken, I dropped down on one knee, expecting a blast of gunfire, but instead I heard a quick, scared gasp.
“Lew?”
Margot’s voice.
“For crying out loud!” I exclaimed.
I straightened up and snapped on the light.
Margot stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and scared, her face tense. She had on a nylon nightdress that was as transparent as a sheet of glass. She looked more than lovely: she looked out of this world.
“Oh, Lew! You frightened the life out of me!”
“Out of you? What do you think you did to me? I nearly had a heart attack. Margot: what are you doing here?”
“I came back. I was so worried about you, darling. I didn’t know what to do. I drove the car to the promenade and walked back. I waited out there in the darkness. The police came, then they went away. I got cold out there so I came in to wait for you. I’ve only just woken up.”
I took out my handkerchief and wiped my face.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” I said. “You certainly made me hit the ceiling. I thought my last hour had come.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ve been asleep. I woke up just in time to see the light go off. I thought it might be you, but I was afraid to call out just in case it wasn’t. So I crept to the door to listen. When you called out in that awful voice, you terrified me.”
“That makes two of us.”
She came swiftly to me and slid her arms around my neck. The feel of her soft, yielding body against mine set my heart hammering. My hands moved down the length of her long back, over the curve of her hips and I pulled her close to me.
“Kiss me, Lew. . .”
My mouth found hers and she moaned softly, pressing herself against me.
“Oh, darling. . .”
It needed a lot of will power to push her away, but I did it.
“Get into bed, Margot,” I said. “You’ll catch cold. . .”
She put her head on one side as she looked at me. Her face was slightly flushed, her lips were parted and there was that look in her eyes I had seen before. She looked the most devastatingly desirable woman in the world.
“I won’t catch cold, but I’ll go back to bed. And you?”
“What do you think? Let me have a shower first. Then I’ll be right with you.”
“Oh, Lew, you haven’t told me . . . what happened? Why did the police . . .?”
I lifted her and carried her across the lounge and into the bedroom. There was an impression where her head had lain on the pillow and the sheet had been thrown back as she had slid out of bed. I laid her on the bed, covered her with the sheet and looked down at her. I thought how beautiful she looked.
“The police? I have orders to get out of town right away,” I said. “They think I’m getting too close to Sheppey’s killer, Margot.”
Her dark eyes opened wide and she reached out and touched my face.
“You’re going away, Lew?”
“I guess so. It won’t be healthy to stay, but before I go I’m going to close up at least one racket here. I’ve found out what that match-folder means.”
“You have? What does it mean then?”
I sat on the side of the bed and took her hands in mine.
“The matches are drug vouchers.”
