Anne did not like the tone of his voice.
‘Yes, all right,’ she managed.
‘They are being sent by a Mrs Ruby Flowers.’
‘Who? Why?’ said Anne, impatient for answers she did not want to hear.
‘I suspect one of the reasons is that Mrs Flowers is at present suing your husband.’
‘Well, that explains everything,’ said Anne. ‘She must want revenge. How much does she claim Henry owes her?’
‘She is not alleging debt, Mrs Osborne.’
‘Well, what is she alleging?’
Ricardo pushed himself up from the chair, as if it required the full strength of both his arms to raise his tired frame. He walked across to the window and looked out over the crowded Boston harbour.
‘She is suing him for breach of promise, Mrs Osborne.’
‘But that’s not possible,’ said Anne.
‘It appears that they were engaged to be married when Mr Osborne first met you, and that 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 quite well off. Not in your class, of course, but well off by most people’s standards. Her late husband owned a soft drink bottling company and left her everything.’
‘Her late husband? How old is she?’
Ricardo walked back to the table and flicked over a page or two of his file before his thumb started moving down the page.
‘She’ll be fifty-three in July.’
‘Oh, my God,’ said Anne. ‘The poor woman. She must hate me.’
‘Possibly she does, Mrs Osborne, but that won’t 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 returned? Why hadn’t she left well enough alone? She didn’t have to know. She didn’t want to know. She wanted to get up and leave. How she wished Richard was by her side. She found herself unable to move, transfixed by Ricardo and the contents of his smart new file.
‘On two occasions last week Mr Osborne spent over three hours with Mrs Preston.’
‘But that doesn’t prove anything,’ began Anne desperately. ‘I know they were discussing a very important financial transaction.’
‘In a small hotel on La Salle Street, at eight o’clock in the evening.’
Anne didn’t interrupt again.
‘On both occasions they were seen walking into the hotel, whispering and laughing. It’s not conclusive, of course, but we have photographs of them entering and leaving the hotel together.’
‘Destroy them,’ Anne said quietly.
Glen Ricardo blinked. ‘As you wish, Mrs Osborne. I’m afraid there’s more. My enquiries show that Mr Osborne was never at Harvard, nor was he an officer in the American Armed Forces. There was a Henry Osborne at Harvard who, it turns out, was five foot five, sandy-haired and came from Alabama. He was killed on the Somme in 1917. I’ve also discovered that your husband is considerably younger than he claims, that his real name is Vittorio Togna and that he has served—’
‘Stop. I don’t want to hear any more,’ said Anne, tears flooding down her cheeks. ‘I don’t want to hear any more.’
‘Of course, Mrs Osborne, I understand. I’m sorry 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?’
‘You have already paid for the two weeks in advance. My expenses came to seventy-three dollars.’
Anne passed over a hundred-dollar bill and rose from her chair.
‘Don’t forget your change, Mrs Osborne,’ Ricardo said as she turned to leave.
Anne didn’t seem to hear him.
‘Are you feeling all right, Mrs Osborne? You look a little pale. Can I get you a glass of water, or something stronger?’
‘No, thank you, 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 home.’ She turned and smiled at the private detective. ‘It was kind of you to offer.’
Glen Ricardo closed the door quietly behind his client, walked slowly across to the window, bit the end off his last big cigar and spat it out. He cursed his job as he watched Mrs Osborne climb into a taxi. Such a nice lady.
Anne paused at the bottom of the litter-strewn staircase, clinging to the banister, almost fainting. The baby kicked inside her, making her feel nauseous. She found a cab on the corner of the block and fell into the back; she was unable to stop herself from sobbing, unsure of what to do next. As soon as she was dropped off at the Red House she went to her bedroom before any of the staff could see her distress. The telephone was ringing as she entered the room. She picked it up, more out of habit than from any curiosity as to who it might be.
‘Could I speak to Mrs Osborne, please?’
She recognized Alan’s clipped tones at once. Another tired, weary voice.
‘Hello, Alan. This
is
Anne.’
‘Anne, my dear, I was sorry to hear 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. I tried to call you, but your maid said you’d already left to do some shopping.’
‘Oh, my God,’ said Anne, ‘I’d completely forgotten about the contract.’ She sat down, breathing heavily.
‘Are you all right, Anne?’
‘Yes, I’m 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 seen 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? 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’ve treated you these past few days. If Richard were still alive, he would never forgive me.’
‘Don’t be silly, Anne. Our friendship has lasted for far too many years for a little thing like that to be of any importance.’
The kindness of his words triggered off a fresh bout of weeping. Anne staggered to her feet.
‘I must go, Alan. I can hear someone at the front door - it may be Henry.’
‘Take care, Anne, and don’t worry. As long as I’m chairman, the bank will always support you. Don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything I can do.’
Anne put the telephone down. The effort of breathing became overwhelming, and the vigorous contractions made her feel sick. She sank to the floor.
A few moments later the maid knocked quietly on the door. She looked in to see her mistress lying on the floor. She rushed in, William by her side. It was the first time he had entered his mother’s bedroom since her marriage to Henry Osborne. Anne was shaking uncontrollably, unaware of their presence. Little flecks of foam spattered her lips. In a few seconds the attack passed, and she lay moaning quietly.
‘Mother,’ William said urgently, ‘what’s the matter?’
Anne opened her eyes and stared wildly at her son. ‘Richard,’ she said, ‘thank God you’ve come.’
‘It’s William, Mother.’
Her gaze faltered. ‘I have no more strength left, Richard. I must pay for my mistake. Forgive …’
Her voice trailed off to a groan as another spasm overcame her.
‘What’s happening?’ said William helplessly.
‘I think it must be the baby,’ the maid said, ‘though it isn’t due for two months.’
‘Get Dr MacKenzie on the phone immediately,’ said William 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.’
The two boys picked Anne up and carried her gently downstairs and out to the car. She was panting and groaning, clearly in considerable pain. William ran back into the house and grabbed the phone from the maid while Matthew waited in the car.
‘Dr MacKenzie.’
‘Yes, who’s 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?’
‘I think my mother is in labour. I’m driving her to the hospital immediately. We should be there in a few minutes.’
Dr MacKenzie’s tone changed. ‘All right, William, don’t worry. I’ll be waiting for you, and everything will be prepared and ready by the time you arrive.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ William hesitated. ‘She seemed to have had some sort of a fit. Is that normal?’
William’s words chilled the doctor. He too hesitated.
‘Well, not quite normal. But your mother will be just fine once she’s had the baby. Get her here as quickly as you can.’
William put down the phone, ran out of the house and jumped into the Rolls-Royce. Matthew, having only had one lesson on his father’s Rolls, drove the car in fits and starts, never once getting out of first gear. He didn’t stop for anything until they reached the hospital entrance. The two boys lifted Anne gently out of the car and placed her on a waiting stretcher. A nurse quickly guided them through to the maternity unit, where Dr MacKenzie was standing in the doorway of one of the delivery rooms. He took over, and asked them to remain outside.
William and Matthew sat in silence on a small bench in the corridor and waited. Frightening cries and screams, unlike any sound they had ever heard before, 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 boys sat on the bench for over an hour, not a word passing between them. Eventually a tired Dr MacKenzie emerged. When they rose the doctor looked at Matthew. ‘William?’ he asked.
‘No, sir, I’m Matthew Lester. This is William.’ The doctor turned and put a hand on William’s 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 back onto the bench.
‘We did everything in our power to save them, but it was too late.’ He shook his head wearily.
William sat in silence. At last he whispered, ‘How
could
she die? How could you
let
her die?’
The doctor sat down on the bench beside him. ‘She wouldn’t listen,’ he said. ‘I warned her repeatedly after her miscarriage not to have another child, but after she married again, she and your stepfather never took my warnings seriously. When you brought her in today, for no apparent reason her blood pressure had soared to the level where eclampsia ensues.’
‘Eclampsia?’
‘Convulsions. Sometimes patients can survive several attacks. Sometimes they simply - stop breathing.’
William began to cry and let his head fall into his hands. No one spoke for several minutes. William eventually stood up and Matthew guided him gently along the corridor. The doctor followed them. When they reached the entrance, he looked at William.
‘Her blood pressure went up so suddenly. That’s most unusual, and she didn’t put up a real fight, almost as if she no longer cared. Strange - had something been troubling her lately?’
William raised his tear-streaked face. ‘Not
something,’
he said with passion. ‘Some
one
.’