Roger lit a cigarette and looked across the swimming-pool to the hills beyond, the ranks of trees and the undulating parkland. A long way off a car was moving along a dirt road, and a cloud of dust rose up behind it.
“And I am also a detective,” he said huskily. “That is how I earn my living. Remember?”
“I remember.”
“Someone drugged David and Belle before the boy was kidnapped. Remember that, too? Who did it was never discovered. The drug might have been in cigarettes, in coffee, in anything they ate or drank. The last report I saw showed no traces of any drug in anything at the house in Wavertree Road, yet the cups and saucers were dirty, it looked as if everything had been left as the Shawns left it. It was a smart job. The dope was a barbiturate, almost certainly. It takes quick effect. They didn’t have it in the middle of the day, but quite late in the evening — say an hour or less, before they folded up. Ricky had been doped, earlier, probably with a smaller dose. Bill Sloan’s very good. His report said that as far as he could find out — he talked to you about it, I think — the only thing that the child and the parents all ate or drank was the milk. It might not have been in the milk, but that’s as likely as anything else.”
“Yes,” said Lissa. She was still relaxed; but her expression had changed, she looked at him intently, almost warily.
“Who could have doped the milk?” asked Roger. “We haven’t found that they had any visitors after you went. None of the neighbours noticed anyone. That’s not conclusive, but it is a reasonable indication. There was no talk of visitors coming after you’d left. Was there?”
She shook her head.
“Remember I’m a detective,” Roger said quietly.
“Yes,” she said, without smiling. “And the detective thinks I could have put the drug into the milk.”
“He knows you could,” said Roger, very slowly. “He doesn’t know whether you did. If he believed you did, he wouldn’t know your motive. His chief trouble is that he can’t be sure who else had the opportunity. Can you give him any help?”
21
URGENT CALL
LISSA put her foot against the grass and pushed gently; the seat swung to and fro. The quiet lingered about them, and there was no sound from the house. The hiss of water spraying from a jet merged with the sound of mosquitoes and flies. For a few moments Roger’s mind was at peace, too. This fear had tormented him for hours, it was a relief that it was in the open. He had told her that there could be nothing between them more than the swift, unchallenged oneness which could never become a bond. She had accepted that. He thought that she knew what else was in his mind: a desperate desire to warn, to protect her.
“No,” she said quietly. “I can’t help, Roger.”
“Finding out could become a must.”
“Do you think Marino also wonders?”
“I don’t see how he could fail to.” Roger moved, and sat beside her, and the swing moved suddenly and she was flung against him. He said fiercely:
Don’t make any mistake, Lissa. You’re a natural suspect. There’s overwhelming evidence that there is a leakage at the Embassy, too — the other side doped me within an hour or two of reaching New York, so there must have been a leak. Marino’s not blind. Did you know when I was coming, and where I was to stay?”
She nodded, mutely.
Roger said abruptly: “Were you here when Ricky was given his gold identity tag, to hang round his neck?”
She nodded, but looked puzzled.
He dropped it by the side of the swimming-pool,” she said. “It was dented at one corner — not much, but he was so upset he burst out crying. Belle cheered him up, I remember — she said there could never be another one just like it, no one would ever have a tag with a corner with that particular dent.”
“Who else was here?”
She was looking at him, head turned uncomfortably; their shoulders still touched.
“David had come home for a month’s vacation. We were leaving next day for London — David and I. Carl Fischer was here, too. We’d all been in the pool, Ricky was learning to swim. The servants were about, of course.” Her eyes smiled for the first time since he had started these questions. “Don’t forget the servants, Roger.”
“Was any servant near the pool?”
“Ricky could have told his Nanny that he’d dropped the tag.”
“But none was near.”
“No.”
“David and Belle, you and Carl Fischer. Lissa, it’s going to be important This case is too big to take any chances. Was anyone else present that day?”
She turned her head and looked towards the swimming-pool, where the sun, now low in the sky, turned the blue water to gold. The lift of her head made a picture that was going to live in Roger’s mind. She frowned a little, then looked round sharply.
“Yes. Ed Pullinger.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ed came late,” she asserted. “He brought some letters for Tony and others of the Embassy. He didn’t swim, but he was here when Ricky dropped the gold tag.”
