第 21 页

'William, are you up to a game of tennis this afternoon?'

Matthew Lester was standing over William as he read the letter from Alan Lloyd for a second time.

'What did you say?'

'Are you going deaf or just becoming a senile adolescent? Do you want me to beat you black and blue on the tennis court this afternoon?'

'No, I won't be here this afternoon, Matthew. I have more important things to attend to.'

'Naturally' old buddy, I forgot that you're off on another of your mysterious trips to the White House. I know President Harding is looking for someone to be his new fiscal advisor, and you're exactly the right man to take the place of that posturing fool, Charles G. Dawes. Tell him you'll accept, subject to his inviting Matthew Lester to be the Administration's next Attorney General!

There was still no response from William.

'I know the joke was pretty weak, but I thought it worthy of some comment,' said Matthew as he sat down beside William and looked more carefully at his friend. 'It's the eggs, isn't it? Taste as though they've come out of a Russian prisoner-of-war camp.'

'Matthew, I need your help,'said William, as he put Alan's letter back into its envelope.

'You've had a letter from my sister and she thinks you'll do as a temporary replacement for Rudolf Valentino.'

William stood up. 'Quit kidding, Matthew. If your father's bank was being robbed, would you sit around making jokes about it?'

The expression on William's face was unmistakably serious. Matthew's tone changed. 'No, I wouldn't.'

'Right, then lees get out of here, and I'll explain everything.'

Anne left Beacon Hill a little after ten to do some shopping before going on to her final meeting with Glen Ricardo. The telephone started to ring as she disappeared down Chestnut Street. The maid answered it, looked out the window 'and decided that her mistress was too far away to be pursued.

If Anne had returned to take the call she would have been informed of City Hall's decision on the hospital contract, whereas instead she selected some silk stockings and tried out a new perfume. She arrived at Glen Ricardes office a little after twelve, hoping her new perfume might counter the smell of cigar smoke.

'I hope I'm not late, Mr. Ricardo,' she began briskly.

'Have a seat, Mrs. Osborne.' Ricardo did not look particularly cheerful, but, thought Anne to herself, he never does. Then she noticed that he was not smoking his usual cigar.

Glen Ricardo opened a smart brown file, the only new thing Anne could see in the office, and unclipped some papers- 'Let's start with the anonymous letters, shall we, Mrs. Osborne?'

Anne did not like the tone of his voice at all or the word start. 'Yes, all right,' she managed to get out.

'They are being sent by a Mrs. Ruby Flowers!'

'Who? Why?' said Anne, impatient for an answer she did not want to hear.

'I suspect one of the reasons must be that Mrs- Flowers is at present suing your husband!'

'Well, that explains the whole mystery,' said Anne. 'She must want revenge.

How much does she claim Henry owes her?'

'She is not suggesting debt, Mrs. Osborne!'

'Well, what is she suggesting then?' Glen Ricardo pushed himself up from the chair, as if the movement required the full strength of both his arms to raise his tired frame. He walked to the window and looked out over the crowded Boston harbour.

'She is suing for a breach of promise, Mrs. Osborne!'

'Oh, no,' said Anne.

'It appears that they were engaged to be married at the time that Mr. Osborne met you, when the engagement was suddenly terminated for no apparent reason!'

'Gold digger; she must have wanted Henry's money.'

'No, I don't think so. You see, Mrs. Flowers is already well off. Not in your class, of course, but well off all the same. Her late husband owned a soft drink bottling company, and had left her financially secure!

'Her late husband - how old is she?'

The detective walked back to the table and flicked over a page or two of his file before his thumb started moving down the page. The black nail came to a halt.

'She'll be fifty-three on her next birthday!'

'Oh, my God,' said Anne. 'The poor woman. She must hate me!'

'I dare say she does, Mrs. Osborne, but that will not help us. Now I must turn to your husband's other activities!'

The nicotine-stained finger turned over some more pages.

Anne began to feel sick. Why had she come, why hadn't she left well alone last week? She didn't have to know. She didn't want to know. Why didn't she get up and walk away? How she wished Richard was by her side. He would have known exactly how to deal with the whole situation. She found herself unable to move, transfixed by Glen Ricardo and the contents of his smart new file.

'On two occasions last week Mr. Osborne spent over three hours alone with Mrs. Preston!'

'But that doesn't prove anything,' began Anne desperately, 'I know they were discussing a very important financial document.'

'In a small hotel on La Salle Street.'

Anne didn't interrupt the detective again.

'On both occasions they were seen walking into the hotel holding hands, whispering and laughing. It's not conclusive of course, but we have photographs of them together entering and leaving the hotel.'

'Destroy them,' said Anne quietly.

Glen Ricardo blinked. 'As you wish, Mrs. Osborne. I'm afraid there is more. Further enquiries show that Mr. Oshome was never at Harvard nor was he an officer in the American armed forces. There was a Henry Osborne at Harvard who was five-foot-five, sandy-haired and came from Alabama. He was killed on the Maine in 1917. We also know that your husband is considerably younger than he claims to be and that his real name is Vittorio Togna, and he has served--'

'I don't want to hear any more,' said Anne, tears flooding down her checks. 'I don't want to hear any more.'

'Of course, Mrs. Osborne, I understand. I am only sorry that my news is so distressing. In my job sometimes...'

Anne fought for a measure of self-control. 'Thank you, Mr. Ricardo. I appreciate all you have done. How much do I owe you?'

'Well, you have already paid for the two weeks in advance, and my expenses came to seventy-three dollars!

Anne passed him a hundred-dollar note and rose from her chair.

'Don't forget your change, Mrs. Osborne.'

She shook her head and waved a disinterested hand.

'Are you feeling all right, Mrs. Osborne? You look a little pale to me. Can I get you a glass of water or something?'

'I'm fine,' lied Anne.

'Perhaps you would allow me to drive you home?'

'No, thank you, Mr., Ricardo, I'll be able to get myself horne.' She turned and smiled at him. 'It was kind of you to offer.'

Glen Ricardo closed the door quietly behind his client, walked slowly to the window, bit the end off his last big cigar, spat it out and cursed his job.

Anne paused at the top of the stairs, clinging to the banister, almost fainting. The baby kicked inside her, making her feel nauseous. She found a cab on the cbmer of the block and, huddled in the back, was unable to stop herself sobbing or to think what to do nexti As soon as she was dropped at the Red House, she went to her bedroom before any of the staff could see her crying. The telephone was ringing as she entered the room, and she picked it up, more from habit than from any curiosity to know who it might be.

'Could I speak to Mrs. Kane, please?'

She recognised Alan's clipped tone at once. Another tired, unhappy voice.

'Hello, Alan. This is Anne!'

'Anne, my dear, I was so sorry to learn about this morning's news!'

'How do you know about it, Alan, how can you possibly know? Who told you?'

'City Hall phoned me and gave me the details soon after ten this morning. I tried to call you then, but your maid said that you had already left to do some shopping!'

'Oh, my God,' said Anne. 'I had quite forgotten about the contract! She sat down heavily, unable to breathe freely.

'Are you all right, Anne?'

'Yes, I'm just fine,' she said, trying unsuccessfully to hide the sobbing in her voice. 'What did City Hall have to say?'

The hospital contract was awarded to a firm called Kirkbride and Carter. Apparently Henry wasn't even placed in the top three. I've been trying to reach him all morning, but it seems he left his office soon after ten and he hasn't been back since. I don't suppose you know where he is, Anne?'

'No, I haven't any idea.'

'Do you want me to come around, my dear?' he said. "I could be with you in a few minutes.'

'No, thank you, Alan.' Anne paused to draw a shaky breath. 'Please forgive me for the way I have been treating you these past few days. If Richard were still alive, he would never have forgiven me.'

'Don't be silly, Anne, our friendship has lasted for far too many years for a silly little incident like that to be of any significance!'

The kindness of his voice triggered off a fresh burst of weeping. Anne staggered to her feet 'I must go, Man. I can hear someone at the front door; it might be Henry!'

'Take care, Anne, and don't worry about today. As long as I'm chairman, the bank will always support you. Don't hesitate to call if you need me.'

Anne put the telephone down, the noise thudding in her ears. The effort of breathing was stupendous. She sank to the floor and as she did so, the long-forgotten sensation of a vigorous contraction overwhelmed her.

A few moments later the maid knocked quietly on the door. She looked in; William was at her shoulder. He had not entered his mother's bedroom since her marriage to Henry Osborne. The two rushed to Anne's side. She was shaking convulsively, unaware of their presence. Little flecks of foarn spattered her upper lip. In a few seconds the attack passed, and she lay moaning quietly.

'Mother,' said William urgently. 'What's the matter?' Anne opened her eyes and stared wildly at her son. 'Richard. Thank God you've come. I need you.'

'It's William, Mother!'

Her gaze faltered. 'I have no more strength left, Richard. I must pay for my mistakes. Forgive. . .'

Her voice trailed off to a groan as another powerful contraction started.

'What's happening?' said William helplessly.

'I think it must be the baby coming,' the maid said, ' although it isn't due for several weeks!

'Get Dr. MacKenzie on the phone immediately,' William said to the maid as he ran to the bedroom door. 'Matthew,' he shouted, 'come up quickly.'

Matthew bounded up the stairs and joined William in the bedroom.

'Help me get my mother down to the car,' he said.

Matthew knelt down. The two boys picked Anne up and carried her gently downstairs and out to the car. She was panting and groaning, and obviously still in immense pain. William ran back to the house and grabbed the phone from the maid while Matthew waited in the car.

'Doctor MacKenzie.'

'Yes, whos this?'

'My name is William Kane; you won't know me, sir.'

'Don't know you, young man? I delivered you. What can I do for you now?'

'I think my mother is in labour. I'll bring her to the hospital immediately. I should be there in a few minutes' time.'

Doctor MacKenzie's tone changed. 'All right, William, don't worry. I'll be here waiting for you and everything will be under control by the time you arrive!'

'Thank you, sir.' William hesitated. 'She seemed to have some sort of a fit. Is that normal?'

William's words chilled the doctor. He too hesitated.

'Well, not quite normal. But she'll be all right once she has had the baby. Get here as quickly as you can.'

William put down the phone, ran out of the house and jumped into the Rolls Royce.

He drove the car in fits and starts, never once getting out of first gear and never stopping for anything until they had reached the doctor at the hospital- The two boys carried Anne, and a nurse with a stretcher guided them through to the maternity section. Doctor MacKenzie was standing at the entrance of an operating room, waiting. He took over and asked them both to remain outside.

The two boys sat in silence on the small bench and waited. Frightening cries and screams, unlike any sound they had ever heard anyone make, came from the delivery room; to be succeeded by an even more frightening silence. For the first time in his life William felt totally helpless. The two of them sat there for over an hour, without a word passing between them. Eventually a tired Doctor MacKenzie emerged.

The two boys rose, and the doctor looked at Matthew Lester.

'William?'he asked.

'No, sir, I am Matthew Lester; this is William.'

The doctor turned to William and put a hand on his shoulder. 'William, I'm so sorry, your mother died a few minutes ago ... and the child, a little girl, was stillborn.'

William's legs gave way and he sank on to the bench. 'We did everything in our power to save them, but it was hopeless.' He shook his head wearily. 'She wouldn't listen to me, she insisted on having the baby. It should never have happened.'

William sat silently, stunned by the whiplash sound of the doctor's words.

'How could she die?' he whispered. 'How could you let her die?' The doctor sat down on the bench between the boys. 'She wouldn't listen,' he repeated slowly. 'I warned her repeatedly after her miscarriage not to have another child, but when she married again, she and your step-father never took my warnings seriously. She had high blood pressure during her last pregnancy. It was worrying me during this one, although it was never near danger level. But when you brought her in today, for no apparent reason it had soared up to the level where eclampsia ensues.'