Lovers and Liars (16 page)

‘No, very easy, I think. I have a plan.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We’ll aim to get there around midday. But first, we should listen to that tape. And maybe we could have some more coffeeT

Gini sighed. Along with the other aspects of Pascal’s character which she had forgotten, there was his addiction to caffeine. She stood up -

‘Nothing easier. It comes in a jar. You spoon out the granules, add hot water, and voiW’

‘That is not coffee.’ Pascal also rose. Suddenly he was very tall and very close. He looked down at her in a gentle and somewhat melancholy way. ‘Next time I’ll bring you some coffeebeans, Colombian coffeebeans. I cannot cook, but I make excellent coffee

He moved away quickly in the direction of the kitchen, at exactly the moment Gini had thought he was about to touch her, or take her hand. There was the sound of the electric kettle being filled, and a few muttered French swear words.

She felt weak, and sat down. After some time, Pascal returned with two mugs. He made a grimace.

‘Nescaf6-An abomination. Never mind. it will do.’

Gini placed her tape recorder on a table between them. She inserted the tape. Pascal leaned forward attentively. She pressed ‘Play’. There was a crackle, some hissing, then the voices began:

- Hallo? Hallo? Am I through to Adelaide?

- No. This is Sydney.

- Oh, James. Thank God. I’m always afraid someone else will be using your phone-booth, and they’ll pick up …

- Don’t worry, darling. I always get here a half-hour in advance. Where are you? Is it safe?

Im having lunch with my friend Mary. I think so. I

We’re at The Ivy. I said I was going to the ladies’ room. Frank checked the diningroom five minutes ago. He’ll check it again in about ten minutes. He’s back outside with the driver now. I mustn’t be long. Oh God, it’s so good to hear your voice …

- Darling, don’t get upset. Don’t cry. You mustn’t. Try to be brave. My friend will help us. I know he will …

- I know. I know. James, you’re the best friend in the world. If it wasn’t for you … If we couldn’t talk. It’s like being in prison. All the time I feel watched. You know, I

saw him last night on television, being interviewed. He was so good, so convincing, and I thought - all those people watching out there, if only they knew …

kt this point, there was interference on the phone line, and a tiny ‘011 in the tape. Gini pressed the ‘Pause’ button. She looked at kscpal. ‘The tape’s been edited - at least it sounds as if it has.’ IPascal nodded. ‘I think so too.’

k.4She sounds terrified.’ Gini frowned.

‘Like a little girl, a frightened child.’ He glanced towards Gini. ‘Is pUse Hawthorne? Or could it be a fake? What would you sayT

01’m certain it’s her. I may not have spoken to her at that party

Mary’s, but I was standing close to her. I’ve seen her interPewed, on television. She has a very distinctive voice - breathy, Ndlike. I can check if she did have lunch with Mary at The Ivy ilialeantime, I’m sure it’s her.’

.. ‘Jenkins is certainly convinced. He had some voice-print experts batch part of this tape to a radio interview she gave last year. They Nere one hundred per cent certain. Or so he says.’

‘Let’s go on … ‘

O’OK. ‘Turn the volume up.’

.Gini did so. After the tiny blip on the tape came a sound between Psigh and a moan, then McMullen’s voice, speaking urgently.

Darling, darling. Please don’t. I can’t bear to hear you crV

0, know. I know. I’m sorry, it’s just … I can never forget, vou see. It’s with me all the time. I think about the last Sunday, and then just when I’ve nearly managed to forget it, wipe it out of my mind, there’s another Sunday coming closer and closer . James, it’s torture, he’s made mv life a torture. I think that’s why he plans it this way, torment then a space, then more torment again. I look at him, and sometimes I want to die …

Darling, don’t - please don’t. Listen. Remember what I said - the next time - can’t you go away then? What if you went away on your own, to friends, for the weekend …

- I can’t. I can’t. Don’t ask me. You don’t understand. He’d punish me if I did that. He’d never let me leave. I tried — once I tried. It was terrible. I’ll never do that again. Can you imagine what it’s like - being watched all the time?, James - if it wasn’t for you. And my children. I

saw that doctor last week - you remember? The one your sister told you about?

- Darling, that’s good. Well done. You see? It’s easy when you make up your mind. You’ll see. It’s all falling into place now. They’ll work - all our plans …

Gini stopped the tape again. She looked at Pascal. ‘Odd, isn’t it? What does that sequence meanT

Pascal shook his head, frowning. ‘I’m not sure. There was a sense-jump - something I couldn’t follow. Play that again.’

Gini rewound the tape. There was a blur, a babble of sound. She found the correct place, and they listened to the sequence again, then she pressed the ‘Pause’ button. Pascal was still frowning.

‘OK. McMullen’s sister recommended some doctor. Lise made an appointment to see him - McMullen congratulates her-‘That makes sense. If he was worried about her health. She

sounds close to breakdown … ‘

‘Sure, sure. But the sense-jump is after that. Why should her seeing that doctor make McMullen say everything’s falling into place? just what are their plansT

‘I don’t know. Us, I imagine. Going to Jenkins, approaching the Press. I have to admit, I don’t see where the doctor fits in.’ ‘Maybe he doesn’t. It just sounds that way. People who know

one another well tend to speak in a kind of shorthand. Never mind for now. Let’s go on.’

They listened to the remainder of the tape in silence. When it was over, Gini looked at Pascal. ‘Well. I don’t know what you think, but it seems to confirm the story McMullen told Jenkins.’ ‘The Sunday referencesT

‘Sure. Beyond that, I’m certain it’s Lise Hawthorne, and I’m certain she’s terrified.’

‘Oh, I agree. Either that, or she’s a very good actress.’ ‘It doesn’t sound like acting to me, Pascal.’

‘Nor to me.’

‘In which case. Gini felt a pulse of excitement. ‘In which case, it just might be true . .

‘I know. I know. I can’t believe it either. No wonder Nicholas Jenkins reacted the way he did. If we make this story stand up can you imagine the reaction? Here? In AmericaT

‘Only too well.’

‘Still … ‘ Pascal lifted his hand. ‘We mustn’t jump to conclusions. We have to take this one step at a time. There’re things

that tape I on’t understand. It’s elliptic. Odd. Play that section the end again - where she and McMullen plan to meet … I Wait. Before we do that, take a look at this.’ Gini rummaged ong the photocopied press clippings on her desk. She proed one, a small item from the Daily Mail’s gossip column. u see? The details in the tape’s last section check out. Lise

see an osteopath in Harley Street, pretty regularly. Some problem. She took a bad fall, apparently, years ago, out ting. It still causes her pain.’

Pascal scanned the clipping, then looked up. ‘OK. That checks Apparently. Play that end section again. Then we should

Gini fast-forwarded the tape. The whole conversation lasted six

utes; most of it consisted of McMullen calming Lise down. section concerning the osteopath came immediately before conversation’s abrupt end:

I have that hospital charity committee in the morning. That’s no good. But next week, Tuesday … He’s in Brussels all day. I have to go for my back treatment in the afternoon. At three. I always drive myself there …

- Darling, the one we used before? Yes - but what about Frank?

- It’s all right. If s his off-duty day. His replacement I’ll get rid of him. Send him on a shopping errand …

- Darling, really? A shopping errand? What for? New clothes?

- He can’t refuse. Not if I insist. Maybe I’ll send him somewhere with the boys. If you wait in that mews …

- You mustn’t take risks. Not now.

- It’s all right. It’s safe. I can slip out the back way. I’ll leave my car parked in Harley Street. If they check, they’ll see it. They’ll assume I’m still inside. James, please - it’s almost Christmas. He’ll make me go to the country. We won’t have another chance for weeks …

It’s all right, don’t get upset, I’ll be there. You know I’d cross the world to spend five minutes at your side …

- We can have more than five minutes. if we’re careful …

- Oh, darling. You have the wickedest laugh. It’s so good to hear you laugh …

- It makes me happy - just to know I’ll see you, that’s all. If you wait in the mews, the way you did before - I’ll

wear a headscarf. We can go to that … Oh, I’m sorry. Someone wants to use the phone. Well, if that’s agreeable to the rest of the committee? Of course. Very good. I’ll see you at the next meeting then. Excellent. Goodbye.

Gini switched off the tape. Pascal rose and picked up the two motor cycle helmets. He made no comment as they left the flat, but seemed abstracted, puzzled, as if there were something on that tape he did not understand.

‘It’s odd.’ He came to a halt by a huge gleaming black motor bike. He turned to look at Gini, his gaze intent. ‘Are they lovers, Lise Hawthorne and McMullen? What would you say?’

‘I don’t know. I was trying to decide the same thing.’ Gini glanced away, trying not to remember certain telephone calls of her own..

‘Case unproven,’ she said at last. ‘I think that’s all you can say. It’s certainly not a normal lovers’ conversation - but then, given the circumstances … ‘

Pascal stood still, frowning into the middle distance. ‘Of course. They are being careful … Yet he calls her “darling” - not once or twice, but again and again.’

‘And she only speaks of friendship. She calls him her friend.’ ‘Exactly. He is in love with her, I would say . Pascal glanced at Gini.

‘And his love isn’t returned?’ ‘Not to the same degree.’

This seemed to worry him. He considered it a moment more, then shrugged it aside with a sudden impatience. ‘Still. Never mind that now.’ He held out a large, shiny helmet with a black visor. ‘Put this on, hold tight. Lean when I lean, the same4way as me. It’s eleven fifteen now. We should be inside McMullen’s apartment around noon.’

‘Oh yes? And you’ve worked out how we do that?’

‘Of course.’ He gave her a reproachful look. ‘We burgle it. It should be easy. The whole building’s alarmed.’

im .1 ULLEN’S APARTMENT building was a nineteenth-century spice prehouse, directly fronting the Thames. It was hu. e and fortress—

9 and had been expensively and painstakingly converted at the Oght of the Thatcher boom-years, about seven years before. Pascal parked his bike, and led Gini through winding cob—

streets lined with Range Rovers, Jaguars and expensive n cars. He guided her away from the street approach ihe building - a large courtyard modishly decorated with Wed box in tubs, and with treillage. ‘Not the main entrance, yet.’

Faking her hand, he ducked down the side of the building, Wre a narrow stone alleyway, overshadowed by the twelve*ey warehouses on either side of it, led to steps and to the Ornes.

kwas still low tide. As Gini stepped out onto sandy mud and she gasped. Here was a new London, a London she kkte4 near yet had never seen. Before her curved the grey manse of the river. To her left was the glittering white pinnacle Canary Wharf; to her right, up river, was the bridge and the “‘Ching stone castellations of the Tower. A police launch passed, d a barge. Pascal ignored them. He was staring up at McMullen’s Wment building, ranked with large arched windows.

‘That’s McMullen’s.’ He gestured. ‘There, in the middle, on the top floor.’

Gini looked upwards. The drop from the apartment was vertiginous: a wall of brick sixty feet high, with a sheer fall to a landing wharf and the water below. Up the face of the building snaked a black iron fireescape. Pascal turned to her, and smiled.

‘Right. Now do exactly what I told you. Talk to the porter. He doubles as a security man. Distract his attention for five minutes. I’m sure you can do that.’ His smile broadened. ‘Normally I work alone. I find it has its uses, working with such a beautiful blonde.’

Gini ignored this. She said, ‘And thenT

‘You’ll hear the alarm. Stay a few minutes more, then leave. The building has a coffee-shop, American style. It’s just to the right of the main entrance. I’ll meet you there.’

‘Pascal, is this going to work? There’re security cameras saw them in the courtyard.’

‘Of course there are security cameras. If they actually have film in them, and if they’re in operation, they scan the entrance, the lobbies, the lifts and the corridors. Also the fireescape. As I said, it’s good you’re blonde.’

Gini gave in. She left him by the side of the water and retraced her steps. She stopped, and applied some lipstick, reserved for occasions such as this one. She crossed the courtyard and entered the lobby. In the comer was the porter’s desk. It was flanked with an impressive array of technology, several telephones, an intercom system, a switchboard, and - behind him - just visible from where she stood looking plaintive, an array of video-screens. One showed a grainy picture of a fireescape - an empty fireescape. The porter was aged about thirty, outfitted in a blue uniform. Gini greeted him warmly. Strengthening her American accent, she launched herself on her spiel.

Afterwards she could scarcely remember what she had said: some convoluted story about a friend who’d rented an apartment here, and recommended it, followed up by a lengthy enquiry as to whether any apartments were available right now, and if so, who were the rental agents … The porter threw himself into her predicament. Gini did not dare glance at the video-screens behind him. The porter was in the act of finding the agents’ telephone number, when the alarm went off.

Gini jumped: a buzzer sounded behind the desk; a series of red lights began to flash; in the distance, muffled by the size of the

building, she could just hear the jangle of the alarm itself.

The porter reacted unexpectedly. He swore, and then apologized. rry, miss. It’s this new system they’ve just fitted. High-tech. -Given us nothing but trouble, it has. Hang on just a second … ‘