The Strange Story of Linda Lee (42 page)

‘Because I’m too vain.’ She pointed to the tunic which was hanging over the back of a chair. ‘To get those papers I had to knock out the Russian woman who was sent to buy them, and I got away by dressing in her awful clothes. They are the only ones I’ve got, and I just couldn’t bear the thought of shaming you by wearing those while dining with you in the restaurant.’

‘Oh, we can have dinner sent up here to the sitting-room.’

‘That’s what I’d hoped you’d say. But I’d still hate you to see me in them. Would you mind very much if I wore my dressing gown?’

He smiled. ‘It’s O.K. by me. But the waiter will think the worst.’

‘Let him, as far as I am concerned. It might not do you any good though, as you are a big shot in the set-up here. Still, I can make things all right by sitting at the table with one leg on a stool, and when you order you can tell the man that I must dine up here because I’ve been disabled by an accident.’

‘Have you?’ Eric’s face expressed concern. ‘I noticed this morning that you were lame and using a stick, but I thought that probably had something to do with the role you were playing.’

Linda pushed back a corner of the bedclothes, drew out her bad leg, pulled her nightdress up to her knee and showed him her bruised calf. It was now a hideous blotch of blue and purple.

‘I say, that’s a nasty one!’ he exclaimed. ‘Did you get it in your fight with the Russian woman?’

‘No. I was knocked down by a car. It was my own fault, and I really treated the driver rather shabbily. I stole her car.’

He roared with laughter. ‘Really, Linda! Those lovelies who appear in the James Bond films couldn’t hold a candle to you.’

‘Oh, you haven’t heard the half of it,’ she smiled. ‘When I was shown in here, I simply had to get some sleep. But now I suppose I ought to do something about my leg.’

‘Yes, you must. ‘When I order dinner, I’ll tell the waiter to get hold of some witch-hazel and a bandage. Is there anything special you would like to eat?’

‘No. You know all my favourite dishes of old. I’m happy to leave it to you.’

Three-quarters of an hour later they had had their cocktails and were sitting down to dinner. When the waiter had left the room, Eric said, ‘There’s one thing which has always puzzled me. When Rowley died, why on earth did you steal those jewels?’

‘Because he had never made a new will as he had promised he would, making provison for me. Everything went to Elsie. I had only about one hundred and eighty pounds in the bank, and no proper qualifications for any sort of decent job. In a few months I should have been living in some squalid boarding house, on a wage that would barely feed me, let alone buy any clothes. After the sort of life I had been leading, I couldn’t face the thought of poverty, and I knew the combination of the safe. It was as simple as that.’

‘Yes. That I understand. But what I don’t, is why you didn’t get in touch with me.’

‘I should have, and I know you would have looked after me. I realised that afterwards, when it was too late. But you had gone abroad, and refused to leave your address with the idea that if I could not write to you I would the sooner forget you. And I thought a letter addressed simply care of the Foreign Office would probably take months to reach you.’

Eric shook his head. ‘What a tragedy. I told you that I’d applied for a job abroad only because I knew that if we kept on seeing each other it would prove too much of a strain and things would be bound to blow up. Actually I was here all the time. I’ve been in this job for the past nine months.’

‘Oh, if only I’d known! But I had so little time to think. To me, then, it seemed a choice of stealing the jewels within an hour, or facing the future almost penniless.’

‘Yes, I see that; and, of course, your mind was not working normally. Rowley’s death must have been an awful shock to you.’

‘It was terrible. Absolutely horrifying. Far worse than you could know. He actually died on me.’

‘Good God! But I thought that because of his heart you weren’t going to let … ’

‘Well, I did. I know it was crazy of me. But we’d been out to dinner and had quite a lot to drink. When we got home he tried to persuade me, but I refused and went up to bed. He stayed downstairs for quite a while, knocking back more brandies. Then he came to my room, knelt down beside the bed and pleaded. He wept like a child. It was heartbreaking. I simply couldn’t stand it and, in the end, gave way.’

‘How ghastly! Neither Arthur nor Elsie told me a word about that.’

‘They couldn’t, because they didn’t know. Nobody does. You see, if his dead body had been found in my bed, the Lucheni couple might have talked. I wasn’t going to risk it getting round that a highly respected man like dear Rowley had died that way, and with a girl who was young enough to be his daughter. So I carried him down to his own room.’

Eric gazed at her in admiration. ‘God alone knows how you managed it. But it was splendid of you.’

‘I owed him that. After all he did for me, it was the least I could do.’

When the waiter had cleared away the dinner things, they settled themselves side by side on the sofa. She told him about how she had escaped from England and of the places she had been to in Canada, but nothing of her personal life. She did not feel like doing that unless the future held some hope of their seeing more of each other. In due course they got on to the subject of how she had succeeded in getting away from Ottawa, and she said:

‘It was only by threatening to make a diplomatic incident of it, if they held me up, that I managed to bluff my way through Immigration on the Russian woman’s passport. But I’d stand no chance of bluffing my way out of England with it, and I don’t suppose that, without references, I could get a British one.’

He shook his head. ‘Not a hope. Whatever name you used to apply for one, you would have to send in a photograph of yourself; and that would be as good as asking to be sent to gaol. You see, the department that issues passports has books of photographs of everyone wanted by the police, and the people there go through those books so often that it’s at least twenty to one that the likeness would be spotted and you would be pulled in.’

‘Then I’m stuck in England for good. What chance do you think I’ve got of keeping out of the clutches of the police?’

‘That depends on where you live, and what sort of life you lead. London would be out of the question. There are so many people there: friends of Rowley’s, waiters in restaurants, shop assistants and so on, who used to know you, that within a few months you would be certain to be recognised by someone; and that bitch, Elsie, has offered five hundred pounds reward for anyone supplying information that would lead to your arrest.’

Linda frowned. ‘How typical of her. And, naturally, that would be a big temptation to many people if they recognised me.’

‘It would. Again, a village would be almost as dangerous, because you are terribly handicapped by the fact that you are a very beautiful girl, and villagers are always curious about newcomers who have no obvious background. Remember, it’s less than ten weeks since your photograph was in all the papers, and that makes you very vulnerable to people who have little to do but speculate about their neighbours.’

‘I’d stand a better chance then in some provincial city?’

‘Yes. Somewhere in the Midlands would be best. Not Scotland or Wales, because in either you would be, in a sense, a foreigner, so again a subject for speculation. But, wherever you settle, you will have to lead a very quiet life. Almost become a recluse in fact, because the more people you get to know, the greater the danger. The trouble is that, after a while, you will feel so secure that you will begin to take risks. That is why nearly all criminals are caught in the long run. Out of boredom,
you will be tempted to join a tennis club, go to subscription dances or even take up charity work. Then, sooner or later, you will run into someone who used to know you in London.’

‘Oh dear, oh dear!’ Linda gave a heavy sigh. ‘It sounds too awful. I’m not yet twenty-one, and to be condemned never to have any fun any more just doesn’t bear thinking about.’

He lit another cigarette, then said quietly: ‘Of course, there is an alternative. You can give yourself up.’

‘But then I’ll be sent to prison.’

‘Yes, there would be no escaping that.’

Again there ran through Linda’s mind the thoughts she had had so often of all the grim discomforts and privations she would have to suffer. At length she asked in a low voice, ‘How long do you think they’d give me?’

Eric gave an unhappy shrug. ‘It’s difficult to say. A great deal would depend on the mentality of the judge who tried you. If he is broad-minded he might let you off fairly lightly. If not, to put it frankly it would weigh against you that you virtually prostituted yourself to a man old enough to be your father, in order to lead a life of luxury, then unscrupulously robbed his heirs. He might send you down for three years.’

‘Three years!’

‘Yes. But I don’t think it would be as long as that, because there is one good card we can play for you. This remarkable coup that you’ve pulled off against the Russians. Of course, that can’t affect the fact that you will be tried for having stolen the jewels, and the law must take its course. The judge must pass sentence on you. But you have rendered your country a very
valuable service. It can also be argued that you could have got away on the Russian’s passport to South America. Instead, from entirely patriotic motives, you took an aircraft to Europe. Then, fate having brought you to England, you decided to give yourself up; and surrendering to justice will get you another good mark. So, with luck, you might be given only a year.’

‘Even that is twelve months—three hundred and sixty-five days of scrubbing floors, porridge, cabbage, greasy stew, coarse clothes, only one bath a week, and the other women. No, I don’t think I could. Anyhow, I must have time to think.’

‘How long do you need?’

‘Could I … could I take a week?’

‘I suppose so. But I don’t like it. You can hardly stay up here all the time, and down in the public rooms someone might well spot you.’

‘No, I didn’t mean here. I’d go to some quiet hotel in the country.’ Linda paused for a moment, then added in a rush of words, ‘Eric, you were in love with me. You told me so that night. Has my being a thief quite killed it? Or … or do you still love me a little?’

He took her hand and kissed it, ‘My dear, what you did doesn’t make the least difference, because I understand why you did it. Anyway, I’ve never ceased to love you. And you are the only woman I’ve ever really cared for since I fell out of love with my late wife.’

Her big eyes smiled her delight into his. ‘Then couldn’t we go away together? I don’t mean for good, but just for the week, while I’m making up my mind. I haven’t been altogether a good girl since I ran away, because, you see, I didn’t expect that we would ever meet again. But I haven’t been a very bad one. I’ve not done anything I am ashamed of. And an unofficial
honeymoon with you would mean so very much to me. Whether I give myself up or not, I’d have that to look back on. It would be a memory to treasure all my life.’

Eric put his arms round her and kissed her very gently on the little mole behind her ear. ‘Bless you, darling. You couldn’t have thought of anything more wonderful. I’m due for some leave. But I’ll have to spend tomorrow clearing up.’

She nodded, ‘Yes. I’ll need tomorrow, too, to buy myself some clothes.’

‘Not on your life!’ he said quickly. ‘I’m not letting you risk arrest in London, even for an hour. If I work all-out in the morning, I can spend most of the afternoon in the West End. But, wait a minute. It’s Saturday, so it will have to be the other way round; and you’ll have to make do with things off the peg; but give me your measurements and I’ll get you everything you’re likely to need.’

‘That’s it! You shall buy me a trousseau,’ she laughed. ‘All the pretty things you think I would look nicest in. And I’ve got lots of money for you to pay for them. That is, if it would be all right for you to change one of my thousand-dollar bills?’

He thought for a moment. ‘Yes, why not? I don’t think there can be any come-back about my doing that. As the Russians had used them to pay for stolen documents, they can’t claim that the notes were stolen from them, and the people who were selling the documents certainly dare not claim them.’

‘Splendid, darling, splendid! Then I’ll give you one of them and my measurements for everything. My leg is excuse enough for me to stay up here all day tomorrow. You’ll come and dine with me again in the evening, and I’ll try on all the pretty things you get for
me. Then Sunday morning we’ll set off. But where shall we go?’

‘Devonshire,’ he replied promptly. ‘I know just the place there where we will be as snug as bugs in a rug and feed off the fat of the land. It’s called the Gypsy Hill Hotel, and it’s at a little place called Pinhoe, near Exeter. It is run by two old friends of mine: a Mr. and Mrs. Jack Grout. For many years he was the manager at Brown’s in Dover Street, where foreign royalties and good old county families often stay. But he left and bought this place in Devonshire at least a year before you came to London; so, even if you dined at Brown’s now and then with Rowley, the Grouts wouldn’t know you.’

Twenty-four hours later, in an ecstasy of happiness, Linda had tried on all the clothes Eric had bought for her, and had packed them in two new suitcases.

Early next morning, with Eric at the wheel of his car, as light-hearted as a schoolboy starting his holiday, they set off for Devonshire. He had telephoned for rooms the previous day, and when they arrived at the hotel the Grouts gave them the warmest possible welcome.

For the five days and nights that followed Linda determinedly put the future out of her mind. Brief as it had to be, this was the honeymoon she had so often longed for; and, when Eric made love to her, she no longer had to shut her eyes and just imagine that it was him. She could keep them open and smile into his adored face while he smiled back his adoration of her.

Every day they drove out in the car or went for long walks over the moors or through the woods. The weather was now cold, and at times it rained, but they were so blissfully happy that they hardly noticed.