Why Aren't They Screaming? (21 page)

‘But she's got everything wrong,' Loretta protested, feeling Robert was taking the whole thing much too calmly. ‘Imo's name, where she's a student –'

‘Clara's age, how you spell her surname. And all that nonsense about Mary Wollstonecraft.'

‘Oh, it makes me so
angry.
Isn't there anything we can do about it?'

‘I doubt it. I've been complaining to newspapers about unfair reviews for years, and you never get anywhere.'

‘But she's misquoted me! And she's got my job wrong, not that that matters.'

Robert took the paper from her and skimmed the article again. Then he burst out laughing.

‘Don't tell me you're the “pretty blonde schoolteacher”! But you're not at all
pretty
!'

Loretta stared at him, disconcerted. He laughed again, leaned across and ruffled her hair.

‘Don't glare at me like that, I was paying you a compliment! Pretty women tend to be ... indistinguishable from one another. There's something unusual about you – interesting. That's much better than pretty.' He tossed the paper to the
floor and his expression suddenly became grave. ‘It's bad luck on us, meeting in circumstances like this. I told Clara she shouldn't keep that gun loaded –'

‘What gun?' Loretta sat up straight, astonished.

‘The one I told you about – the one that was missing on Tuesday night.'

‘You didn't mention any gun.'

‘I'm sure I did. I certainly told that policeman, Bailey. I remember thinking, as soon as I realized she'd been shot – I wonder if the gun's still there. She kept it in the top drawer of the bureau in the sitting room. Are you sure I didn't tell you this?'

‘Positive. It's not the sort of thing I'd forget.'

‘That's odd.' Robert appeared to be genuinely puzzled. He put his arm round her and hugged her to him. ‘I'm sorry, Loretta, I could have sworn I told you ... I must have been in even more of a state than I thought.'

Loretta moved away slightly; he, feeling her withdrawal, let her go. She turned to look at him, trying to evaluate this turn of events. Clara killed with her own gun – and Robert hadn't even told her of its existence. She could hardly believe it. The suspicions she'd entertained the previous day came rushing back, all the more uncomfortably as she was sitting so close to their object. But – surely Robert couldn't be involved in Clara's death? Common sense came to her rescue: if Robert was the killer, what did he have to hide by concealing his knowledge of the gun from her but revealing it to the police? Or was he lying when he said he'd told them?

‘Loretta, don't read anything into it.' He gave her a searching look, leaving her with the clear impression that he'd read her mind. ‘If I really didn't tell you, I'm sorry. Maybe Colin turning up took my mind off it.' He shifted sideways in his seat, away from her.

Anxious to retrieve the situation, she took his hand. ‘I'm sorry,' she said, forcing a smile, ‘I was just a bit – surprised. I suppose I'd assumed that whoever... did it brought the gun with him. Or her. Anyway, tell me about it. How do they know it was the same gun? If it's still missing, I mean. Or has it turned up?'

‘Not as far as I know.' Robert seemed to have relaxed a
little, his hand was no longer unyielding in hers. ‘I told them to ask Gilbert about it, I thought he'd know the make. He used to clean it now and again, make sure it was working. According to him – he phoned just before you arrived – the tests they did on the bullets matched what he'd told them. He feels terrible about it, he blames himself. I told him not to – Clara should never have kept it in the house.'

‘Why did she?'

‘It's been around for years, I think her father had it when he was in the army. When Charles died, he was Clara's first husband, she was nervous about being alone in the house. Apart from Imo, of course, and she was away at school a lot of the time. So she got Gilbert to have a look at it.'

‘It's hard to imagine, Clara being frightened of anything.'

‘That's because you only met her recently. She went through a bad patch after Charles died, more or less a break-down. Even so, I told her it was madness, keeping a loaded gun in the house. That's the trouble with weapons – it's just as likely a burglar will get his hands on them and use them on you. I said she should get a good alarm system. When she found out how much it would cost, she decided to stick to the gun. She had her little quirks, Clara, and not spending money on herself was one of them.'

They sat in silence for a moment, Loretta trying to think of a way to change the subject. They had been getting on so well until the gun came up ... Her gaze travelled round the room, lighting at last on the window overlooking the street; to her surprise, she saw that someone was standing looking in.

‘Who's that?'

It was too late; as Robert turned, the figure drew back and disappeared. They heard footsteps going rapidly away from the house.

‘I'll go and see.'

Robert left the room, and Loretta went to the window hoping to catch a glimpse of the retreating visitor. The window catch resisted her hand, and she saw that it had been painted shut. She was still trying to open it when she heard voices at the side of the house; one was Robert's, the other she couldn't catch. She turned, waited, and a minute later Imo appeared in the doorway with Robert just behind her.

‘Look who's here,' Robert said in kindly tones.

‘Imo!' Loretta went forward, hands outstretched, intending to embrace the girl. Then she stopped, repelled by Imo's hostile expression. She wondered whether she'd imagined it, misled by the girl's drawn features, but the tone of Imo's voice when she spoke left her in no doubt she was right.

‘It's all right, I'm not going to stay. I just came to see Robert.' She turned to look at him. ‘But I don't want to
interrupt
anything. I can come back later.' Her glance went to Loretta, and returned to Robert.

‘When did you get back from Sussex?' Robert asked, either unaware of the atmosphere in the room or hoping it would disappear.

This morning. Look, I'll come another time. All right?' She moved towards the door.

‘Imo –' Robert stopped, clearly at a loss.

At that moment, light dawned on Loretta and she crossed the room to the sofa where she'd left her bag.

‘Time I was going,' she said calmly, smiling at them both. Imo, I'm terribly sorry about your mother. Perhaps we can talk when you're feeling a bit better? You're staying with Ellie?'

Imo nodded dumbly.

‘Robert, where's that book I was going to borrow? I must have left it in the kitchen.'

Robert stared at her in surprise and followed her as she went down the corridor to the back of the house.

‘What on earth's going on?' he asked, watching her close the kitchen door.

Loretta pulled a face. ‘I'd forgotten Imo's got a crush on you,' she said. ‘She must have seen my car, looked through the window, and there we were holding hands on the sofa. Poor kid, no wonder she's upset.'

‘Are you sure?' Robert was flabbergasted. ‘I've always been fond of her, but she's just a kid. I've never –'

‘I'm sure you haven't. I noticed it on Saturday during dinner, but of course the last couple of days drove it out of my mind. Just think how she feels – first her mother's murdered, then she comes to you for sympathy and finds me here. She must feel completely
excluded,'

‘Wait a minute, Loretta, I should have thought sex was the last thing on her mind at the moment.'

‘Oh, I didn't mean she's going to throw herself into your arms. It's more to do with – well, a dream, or a fantasy. Look, there's no need to worry.' She put a comforting hand on Robert's arm. ‘Just go back in there as though nothing's happened. What she needs is to talk, and if you can get her to do that this other business will go out of her mind.'

‘You don't think I should explain about...?'

‘No, I don't. Think you can cope?'

‘I sup-pose so,' Robert said uncertainly. ‘I'm sorry you've got to go. Shall I see you later?'

‘I'd better ring, in case she's still here. I don't want to upset her more than I have already.'

‘Or I could come to the cottage?'

‘Yes, why don't you do that? About eight?'

‘I'll look forward to it.' He followed her down the corridor to the front door. Loretta opened it, hesitated, then called in the direction of the drawing room, ‘Bye, Imo!'

There was no answer. Loretta shrugged, smiled at Robert, and went to her car.

She sat still for a moment, one hand on the steering wheel, wondering how to pass the time between now and eight. It occurred to her that she wouldn't mind a drink, non-alcoholic this time, but then she remembered that she was supposed to be boycotting the village pub. She started the engine and was about to drive home when she thought of calling in on Ellie and Here. She turned the car and drove slowly up the street to their cottage, parking outside.

‘Hi there.' Here stood in the doorway, a welcoming smile on his face. ‘Come in, we've just been watching the news.'

He led the way into the small front room of the cottage where Ellie was sitting in front of the television mending a pair of jeans.

‘Loretta! What's all this about Jeremy? Has he really been arrested?' As usual, Ellie was direct.

‘Why, was it on the news?'

‘No, they don't seem to know
anything.
I heard it from Flo two doors down. Her son-in-law's lost his dog, and he was in
the police station this morning reporting it when Jeremy was brought in. By
two
policemen, he said.'

Loretta had been waiting for an invitation to sit down; when none was forthcoming, she settled herself into an old armchair with wooden arms.

‘They didn't actually arrest him,' she said guardedly. ‘They just asked him to go with them to the station.'

‘You were there?'

‘Yes. He'd just come over to the cottage when they arrived.'

‘There you are!' Ellie was looking in triumph at Here, who had moved a pile of books to the floor so he could sit on a sofa.

‘Now wait a minute, lovely. Could be they want to clear a few things up – about what was stolen, maybe?' Here sounded unconvinced.

Ellie turned back to Loretta. ‘Has he come back?'

‘Not as far as I know.' Loretta was about to explain that she'd been away from Keeper's Cottage since just after four, but Ellie forestalled her.

‘So he's been there
all day?
Well, what more do you want?'

‘But he may have come back by –'

‘I doubt it. Darling, why don't you turn the telly off? I'm sure Loretta doesn't want to watch it. D'you want some cake? I made one this afternoon.'

Confused, Loretta waited for Here to answer. When he didn't, but silently got up to turn the television off, she turned to Ellie and said she'd love some. Ellie and Here disappeared to the kitchen together, returning some ten minutes later with two trays loaded with seed cake, scones, and a huge brown teapot.

‘Tuck in,' Ellie urged, heaping two scones and a thick slice of cake on to a plate and passing it to Loretta. ‘You could do with a bit more weight.'

Loretta obediently cut a corner piece off the cake and began to eat, hoping her appetite wouldn't be ruined for later. She'd been thinking of cooking Robert a light supper.

‘How's Imo?' she asked, wiping crumbs from her mouth. ‘I saw her for a few minutes at Robert's – she looked very drawn.'

‘Too early to tell,' Here said. ‘Oftentimes these things take a while to sink in.'

‘She's staying here, did she tell you?'

Loretta nodded.

‘I don't know
what
Clara was thinking of, leaving the house to her and Jeremy together.' Ellie sighed and shook her head. ‘That's why I want Jeremy to have done it – then Imo'll get the lot!'

‘You sure about that, lovely?'

‘Course, darling! This is England! We don't let people enjoy the fruits of their ill-gotten gains, do we, Loretta?'

Loretta had to admit that she didn't know. She was still turning over in her mind this confirmation that Jeremy stood to gain by his wife's death – if Ellie was a reliable witness, and Loretta wasn't sure she was. She remembered the tape, still tucked safely in her bag, and wondered if she should mention it; the cassette, with its implication of an organized conspiracy against Clara, was to some extent evidence in Jeremy's favour. But she held back, fearing that the story would be round the village in a matter of hours if she entrusted it to Ellie. If the Americans had been involved in Clara's death, the last thing she wanted was that they should be tipped off about her possession of a vital piece of evidence through local gossip.

‘Wonderful cake,' she said, pleased that she'd managed to finish the huge helping Ellie had given her.

‘More?' Ellie asked eagerly, getting up and going to the table on which she had placed the trays.

‘No, really, I couldn't,' protested Loretta, alarmed. There was a short wrangle; in the end, Loretta was excused a second helping only after she'd promised to take a hunk of cake back to the cottage in a plastic bag ‘for later'.

Ellie and Here seemed so pleased to have her company that Loretta wasn't able to escape until well after seven. There was just time to start preparing some food for Robert, Loretta thought, heading back to Keeper's Cottage with Ellie's cake sitting beside her on the passenger seat. She'd found some buffalo mozzarella in Oxford the previous day which she could use in a salad, and there were a couple of chicken
breasts in the fridge. Of course, Robert might not be hungry; she hadn't liked to mention supper earlier, in case it brought back memories of Tuesday night. She would make the salad, which she was hungry enough to eat herself if he wasn't interested, but hold the chicken until he arrived. She would also, she decided, find a moment to tell him about the tape she might even play it to him. She had intended to mention it before, while she was at his house, but his casual revelation about the gun had shocked her out of it. That had been the only sticky moment of her visit, looking back on it; she was sure he'd sensed her flash of suspicion, and had been momentarily offended by it. By telling him about the tape, she would be making a tacit gesture of her trust in him.