Lovers and Liars (62 page)

‘I told you. Originally, I hoped to meet you both there. My main desire was to keep you on the story, to keep you occupied, and keep you keen.’

‘All right. Then how did Appleyard know about that apartment in Venice? Who gave him the address? He went there before you even sent the parcels.’

‘I don’t know.‘McMullen seemed glad to have moved away from the question of Lorna Munro’s clothes. He gave every appearance now of trying genuinely to help them. ‘I never gave him that address, though the apartment is mine. I’ve rented it for years. I can only think that someone tipped Appleyard off, told him he might find me there. He couldn’t trace me in London, he wouldn’t leave the story alone. So he went there - and got himself killed.’

‘So who tipped him off? This would have been just after Christmas. John Hawthorne?’

‘Not in person, obviously. He would have used one of his men Frank Romero possibly. The Palazzo Ossorio address was in Lise’s address book - I know that. She’s written to me there in the past. Years ago. Also, I had been in Venice. I went there directly I left England. Possibly I was followed, or traced. I’m not sure. I knew it was not safe to stay there long. I was only there a day, maybe a day and a half. Then I moved on.’

‘Would you like to tell us whereT ‘No.,

‘In that time - at any point between leaving London and now

- were you able to make contact with Lise? You must have been very anxious to see her.’

‘I was desperate to see her, but it was impossible. No.’ McMullen’s manner had altered the instant Pascal mentioned Lise’s name. He seemed agitated, and his driving became slightly erratic. He almost missed one stop sign; he took a corner too fast.

He then slowed, and turned into the heart of Oxford.

r1s that all?’ he said. ‘Are there more of these questions? We’re ost back at Paradise Square now. I’ll drop you near there.’ “Yes, there is one,’ Pascal said thoughtfully. ‘You and Lise awthorne - you may not like this question .

McMullen stiffened. ‘I’ve already told you,’ he began, Use and -were never more than friends. If you knew Lise you would derstand. Once she was married - she believes in the marriage ws. No matter what I might have felt - anything other than endship was ruled out, was out of the question entirely. I-! ‘That wasn’t what I was asking, or implying/ Pascal answered ietly. ‘But you mentioned the question of bias earlier. You don’t

have .to be a woman’s lover to love her, after all. On that tape of your phone conversation, you address Lise in a way a man oesn’t usually address a friend.’

“I know.’

McMullen gave a sigh. He slowed the car and, turning into the serted High Street, he drew up outside All Saints’ church. In city, the mist was much thicker than in the country beyond.

g drifted, then cleared. McMullen switched off the engine. There as a silence, and Gini realized that his hands were trembling. He s gripping the wheel more tightly to hide this. His back and Iders were rigid with tension.

“I love Lise. I have loved her for many years.’ McMullen spoke ddenly, in a low voice, his face averted from them both. ‘The e I feel for her has grown with time, despite our separation.

ve never told her what I feel - well, I don’t need to, of course. se must know. She can hear it in my voice. Read it in my es. I’ve only ever loved two women in my life, so it’s not an considerable thing. But there’s been no … no impropriety, er. If Lise could divorce, if it weren’t for her religion - but e can’t. That’s out of the question. So if you’re suggesting at I’m usin all this as a means of freeing Lise from her hus-9

nd - anything of that nature - the answer is no. I may hate awthorne but I would never invent lies about him in order to better niv own chances with Lise. I have no chances, not while he’s alive. Besides/ he turned to look at Pascal, ‘although you don’t know me, and have no reason to believe me, I would never harm Hawthorne for personal motives. I’m not that kind of man.’

Here, suddenly, was the McMullen that both Jenkins and McMullen’s sister had described. Gini looked at him intently. It

was less naivety, she thought, than a simple, and an impressive, conviction. He spoke with quiet sincerity, and she did not for one second doubt him. Pascal was similarly convinced, she could see that. He looked at McMullen as if, for the first time, he both liked him and felt a kinship with him.

‘As to what my motivations are . McMullen paused. He was frowning now, staring into the misty street in front of him. ‘I’ve asked myself that question, many times, I asked it twentyfive years ago, and I still ask it. For the sake of my own selfrespect, if nothing else, I had to be sure why I felt it right to expose Hawthorne for what he is. The answer is that I want to protect Lise, and her sons. But beyond that, I have this oldfashioned belief in truth. I don’t like to see a man in his position get away with years of lies.’

Leaning behind him, as he spoke, he opened the rear door. it was evident the interview was over. McMullen waited until they were both out of the car, then wound down his window.

‘I’ve almost forgotten the most important thing of all.’ He gave an agitated gesture. ‘Your leads, if you have them. What you intend to do-2

Gini began to reply, but Pascal interrupted her fast.

‘We have the leads we need,’ he said. ‘As far as next Sunday is concerned, we know the details of Hawthorne’s assignation. We know how and where he chose the woman concerned. We know the time and place of meeting. I shall take the necessary photographs.’

McMullen seemed surprised. Gini, who was astonished, kept quiet. Pascal could be impressive when he lied.

‘Youf re sureT McMullen stared at him. ‘Why didn’t you mention this earlierT

‘Maybe I trusted you less earlier.’ Pascal gave a shrug. McMullen hesitated, then glanced down at the clock on his dashboard. ‘I have to go. I must go … ‘ He paused. ‘We may be able to meet again. After Sunday … ‘ An odd, sad expression came into his face. ‘When this is all over. I hope … I should like you to know how much I owe you. I must have seemed very ungrateful, rude, earlier … ‘

That’s all right,’ Pascal replied. ‘When it’s over, we can meet. If thanks are in order, you can thank us then.’

‘ThenT McMullen looked at him blankly. The fog drifted between them. Then McMullen recovered. ‘Ah, then. When it’s over. Yes, of course. I must leave now. Goodbye …

I Without further words, he closed the window, started the “I ,,pgine, and pulled away. They stood watching his car disappear

to the distance. Fog obscured its tail-lights. The noise of its Vngine faded. Pascal gave a sigh, and looked at Gini.

‘What a strange man,’ he said. ‘What a very, very strange

XXV11

PASCAL HAD parked his motor bike in Holywell Street, not far away. When they reached it, Gini said, ‘So, Pascal, do you want to explainT

‘Why I stopped you from pressing those endless questions, you meanT He smiled.

‘Sure, that. Also why you lied to him at the end.’

‘Not yet. There isn’t time. I want to give McMullen a slight lead, but not too much. Then I want to see where he went.’

‘Back to that cottageT

‘Yes.’ Pascal helped her onto the bike. ‘But not immediately. I’m pretty certain of that.’

He climbed up in front of her; Gini gripped him around the waist. It was now very cold, and the speed at which Pascal drove made it colder still. He retraced, almost exactly, the route they had taken with McMullen. He stopped on the outskirts of Hawthorne’s village, put his arm around her, and led her down a narrow and deserted lane towards the village church.

The mist here was less dense than in the city, and there was now some intermittent light from a pale and waning moon. Pascal led her carefully across the graveyard, skirting the tombstones. He stopped at an ivy-clad wall, overhung with leafless trees on the far side, mounted it, and hoisted her up.

‘I thought so,’ he said quietly, his mouth close to her ear. English manor house is usually close to the church. That’s wthorne’s place. You see those gates down thereT

Gini peered down into the valley below them. As her eyes accustomed to the dark, she could just make out the bulk a house, and the pale line of a driveway with tall iron gates nting the road. She nodded.

ery well. Now, watch.’

They sat in silence, watching, for ten minutes. A breeze rustled bare branches of the trees, owls called to each other in the tance. Clouds scudded across the face of the moon. Behind , the church clock struck.

It was ten, and exactly on the hour, when she saw the beam of .ghts in the distance, breasting the hill beyond Hawthorne’s se. They were startlingly powerful in the dark of the countrye, cutting a passage through the blackness: two cars. They st have radioed ahead, because as they drew level with the trance to the drive, the gates swung back. Two large Lincoln

passed through, at speed; the gates shut. Instantly, a single -wattage light came on at the front of the house below. Dogs ked. The two cars came to a halt.

‘Their lights were extinguished. Car doors opened and shut. In . at fight remained, and it was not a great deal, Gini saw a dark ng cluster of men bunch around one of their party, and move t up some steps. The light went out, the door closed.

“Hawthorne?’ ‘Yes. Minus his wife. Wait.’

Pascal was no longer looking at the house. He was scanning e fields on the other side of the valley. Gini also stared at se fields. She could see their grey outline, the darker fine of dges, stands of trees staining the outline of the hill, and at the of it the blackness of woods.

Five minutes passed; ten. Gini shivered, and Pascal glanced n at his watch. Fifteen minutes after the door had closed Hawthorne, Pascal tensed. In the distance, from the darkness osite, came a tiny flare of light.

A split-second and it was gone. Gini was not even sure she d seen it: it was deceptive gazing at a monochrome landscape, ere shadows took on substance, and moonlight tricked the S.

Pascal helped her down from the wall. Standing there in the veyard, he said, ‘Did you see thatT

‘I saw something. I think. I’m not sure what it was.’

‘It was the flare of a match. We were lucky to see that much. McMullen is a professional. He won’t prowl around the woods up there with a flashlight. He won’t advertise his presence with bare hands or a white face. He won’t stumble over branches, or step on dry wood and set the dogs down there barking. But McMullen’s nervous, as I’m sure you noticed, and he’s a smoker. So cautious, and then at the last moment, so careless. He lit a cigarette.’

Gini glanced back over her shoulder. ‘You mean he was up there all this time, watching?’

‘Of course. He’s staking Hawthorne out. He didn’t trouble to hide that.’

‘He was waiting for Hawthorne to arrive? That’s why he kept checking his watch? But how would he know Hawthorne’s movements, when to expect him?’

‘It’s an interesting question. And I think I know the answer.’ Pascal took her arm. They walked back down the lane to the bike. The village was silent, and many of the houses dark.

They stopped, and Gini said quietly, ‘Pascal, explain. Why did you interrupt my questions about Lorna Munro’s clothes?’ ‘WhyT Pascal gave an impatient gesture. ‘Because he was lying

to us, that’s why. Maybe not before, maybe not after, but he was lying then.’

‘What little he said wasn’t convincing, I’ll give you that.’

‘It was ridiculous. The dates didn’t fit. It could not possibly have been as simple as he claimed. But I didn’t want McMullen to know we questioned it. Much better to lull him, I think.’

‘Lull him?’ Gini glanced at him sharply. ‘And is that why you lied to him at the end? To lull him? “We know how he chose the woman concerned.” I wish it were that simple. Pascal, why did you do thatT

Pascal took a while to reply. He stood, frowning, looking along the winding village street. ‘Instinct. Self-preservation,’ he said eventually, with a shrug. ‘Mainly because I wanted to see how he’d react.’

‘He reacted with surprise and relief,’ Gini said. ‘Intense relief. That was genuine. He wasn’t acting, I’m sure.’

‘Exactly. I agree. Yet it was odd . Pascal stood for a moment longer, as if trying to puzzle something out. Then he turned back to her. He took her hands. ‘You’re freezing,’ he said. ‘Come on. It’s too late and too cold to go back to London tonight. We’ll find

ewhere to stay in Oxford. Get something to eat. Then we’ll .1

,;“All right.’ Gini moved to the motor bike, then stopped. ‘Why . Pascal? just tell me that.’

‘Because that lie I told him about our leads ought to have been most important thing we told him tonight. If it were true, would mean Lise’s ordeal was almost over, that McMullen d achieved everything he hoped. So important - and yet he idn’t ask a single question. What were our sources? How did we

over the address of the meeting-place? All those were pretty y questions, wouldn’t you think?’

‘Sure.’ Gini frowned. ‘I noticed that. I also noticed he never ked the most obvious question of all: whether we had seen Lise awthorne. He never asked that.’

‘Because he knew the answer,’ Pascal said. ‘I’m sure of it. He we had talked to Lise. He knew she had given us the address that house. He knew when you would be in Regent’s Park sterday. He knew Hawthorne was expected here tonight -

I suspect that when he left us, went outside, it was to that mobile phone he has in his car. Hawthorne’s estimated e of arrival was given him then … Come on, Gini - how *d he know all these thingsT

‘He is in touch with Lise? Still? Despite denying it?’

‘I’m certain he is. Somehow. And that’s why he started lying hen you asked him about the clothes as well. Because Lise was volved in the sending of those parcels, even if she was here at

time. She helped him organize it - so why won’t he admit V’

‘Because he’s protecting herT

‘Possibly.’ Pascal gave her a quick glance. ‘But just bear in mind, ini, that there could be less innocent reasons as well.’

t’s start with that house he took us to/ Pascal said. ‘You tell I!ne about the living-room, then I’ll tell you about the kitchen.’ He and checked his watch. ‘No, wait a second. We might just ,fatch the end of the news.’