When Night Closes in (5 page)

Hand in hand, they had climbed the ornate staircase to their room, and once there they had made love with an urgency that, at the time, Lowri did not question. She had showered, put on her robe and left him in the bathroom while she settled herself on the balcony to listen to music on her Walkman.

As usual, she had the volume turned up quite high to get the full benefit of the sweeping sounds of the music. Eventually, she must have fallen asleep. What happened then? Had Jon left the hotel as soon as her back was turned? Her mind went round like a rat in a trap, trying to make sense of the nonsensical. Oh Jon, what's happened to you?

Lowri made fresh coffee; her head had begun to ache and she knew she would drive herself mad if she kept speculating about what might have happened. She had no choice but to admit she had been fooled by a married man. How stupid he must have thought her. Even as he made love to her, pleasuring her, he had probably been laughing at her. The thought hurt.

Lowri looked around her for something to do. She was restless and needed to occupy herself with something other than her tortured thoughts. But the house was spotless, the carpet in the small sitting-room hoovered, the furniture dusted, and for once, all the dishes were washed and put away. There was nothing else for her to do.

‘Oh God help me!' She pushed away her cup and put her head on her hands, feeling the softness of the tablecloth between her fingers. She wanted to cry but what good were tears?

The doorbell rang, shattering the silence. Lowri sat up, her heart beating rapidly. Who would be calling on her on a Sunday? The bell shrilled out with a harshly repeated insistence.

Could it be Jon? She was fooling herself, she knew it and yet her heart was beating rapidly as she moved towards the small hallway. Through the glass, she could see the shape of a man standing outside. ‘Who is it?' she called, trying to sound calm and in control of the situation and failing miserably. The figure moved very slightly.

‘It's DI Lainey, can I talk to you, Miss Richards?'

She hesitated and then opened the door. ‘What do you want?'

‘Just a word, if I may.'

‘You'd better come in.' She led the way into the sitting-room and stared at him. He was at least some sort of link with Jon and perhaps he had some news. ‘Would you like a coffee?'

‘Thank you. Black, no sugar.' He seemed to fill the room. Strange she had failed to notice his height and the broadness of his shoulders when she first saw him at the Swan.

She gave him the coffee and picked up her own cup, sitting as far away from him as possible, apprehensive and hopeful at the same time. ‘Why are you here?' She paused. ‘Have you found out anything?'

He looked uncomfortable. ‘I thought it a good idea to talk to Mrs Brandon.' He took a drink as though to give them both time to think. ‘Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to know her husband very well. I thought she might help by telling me about his work, if his passport was up to date, that sort of thing.' He shrugged. ‘She seems to think he's left here for good.'

‘If his . . . his wife can't help you what makes you think I can?' Lowri looked up at him; his eyes met hers and she was the first to look away. ‘I didn't even know the bastard was married.'

He almost smiled. ‘That's the spirit!'

‘Why are you so interested? Jon is just another person gone missing, it happens all the time.'

‘I said I'd try to help. In any case I don't like unsolved puzzles,' Lainey said. ‘Did you hear anything that night, the sound of raised voices perhaps?'

She shook her head. ‘I didn't hear anything but my music. I suppose I drifted off to sleep then. I expected him to be there when I woke.' She stopped speaking abruptly. She felt such a fool, such a bimbo for allowing Jon to take her in so easily.

‘Look, don't be too hard on yourself.' DI Lainey spoke softly. ‘We have reason to believe that Brandon was a first-class con man.'

‘What do you mean?'

He shrugged. ‘At the moment I just have a gut feeling about this. But I can tell you that we want to find Mr Brandon so that he can help us with our inquiries.'

‘And you think that I might have aided and abetted him in whatever he was doing? It all sounds a bit melodramatic to me.'

He shook his head but did not comment. They sat in silence for what seemed a long time and then he put his coffee-cup on the table. ‘I understand you went to see Mrs Brandon?'

‘That's right. Is there a law against it, then?'

He held up his hand. ‘I'm trying to help you, bear with me, will you?' He smiled and she realized how attractive he was. His teeth were white, even. His hair was thick and shining with red highlights in the sunshine pouring in through the window. Perhaps she could trust him. It would be good to trust someone.

‘Tell me, Mr Lainey,' she said abruptly, ‘why would your phone number be hidden behind a photograph of Jon Brandon and his wife?'

‘Was it? Then your guess is as good as mine.'

‘So you'd never met Sarah before you went to see her – or Jon?'

‘Hey, I'm supposed to be the cop.' He seemed to relax a little. ‘And don't be so formal, why not call me Jim? This is an unofficial visit, you know.'

‘No, I didn't know. Why should I want to call you Jim?' she asked warily. ‘How do I know I can trust you?'

He actually laughed. ‘Because I'm an honest cop, of course!'

‘It's not funny!'

‘I know it's not. Why would an intelligent woman like you get mixed up with a man like that?'

‘That's none of your business.' Lowri felt the heat in her cheeks.

‘Oh, everything is police business when we suspect a crime has been committed.' He sighed and looked at his watch. ‘Well, I'd better go.' His eyes, blue, clear, met hers. ‘That's if you can't think of anything that would help.'

‘I don't know anything.' She searched her mind desperately. ‘He lied about being unattached.' She laughed shortly. ‘He probably lied every time he said he loved me. Come to think of it, when did he ever tell me the truth?'

‘And you never suspected anything amiss? You must have spent time at Plunch Lane, didn't you see signs of another woman about the place, things in the bathroom, clothes in the wardrobe?'

‘It was a holiday place with a short lease, remember. There were no signs of anyone being there except him.' She hesitated.

‘Yes?' he said, moving a little closer to her. ‘Have you thought of something? If so tell me.'

She sighed. ‘There were things in the spare room, travel bags and a leather briefcase, but then it's not unusual to have stuff like that around when you go on holiday, is it?'

He answered her question with one of his own. ‘You are not a suspicious sort of woman then, one who likes to turn a man inside out?'

‘Speaking from bitter experience, detective?' She felt a sense of glee: he had a chink in his armour, he was not invulnerable.

‘Maybe.'

‘Look, sit down,' she said impulsively. ‘I'll make more coffee. I've been acting as though you are to blame for everything.'

He sat down readily. ‘Another coffee would be wonderful.' He looked so young when he smiled, though she guessed him to be in his mid-thirties. As she made the coffee, she felt her spirits lighten. Jon's disappearance was not the end of the world – she was just another foolish girl who had been taken in by an older man.

They talked for almost an hour about her job, her time at university, her parents, the reason why she had left home. Jim Lainey told her he was divorced, there were no children of the marriage and though he made light of it, Lowri could see that the break-up still had the power to hurt him.

He changed tack so smoothly she hardly noticed. ‘Who else from the office met Jon Brandon?' Jim asked. ‘I know your Mr Watson spoke to him on at least one occasion. The girl, Sally, had she met him before, did you go out together for evenings or anything?'

Lowri shook her head. ‘Jon always said he wanted time to be alone with me.' She glanced up from under her eyelashes. ‘It might seem strange to you now but I was actually flattered about that. In any case, Sally enjoys a different sort of night out.'

‘When you visited Sarah Brandon, was she suspicious of your motives?'

‘I don't know.' She smiled, though she felt more like crying. ‘I don't think so. She thought I was simply there on business though she did imply that Jon was never the faithful kind.'

‘Well that doesn't surprise me. I think you've had a lucky escape from Mr Brandon.'

‘What do you mean?'

He sighed. ‘I can't say, not just at the moment.' He looked at his watch.

‘You have to go,' she said, rising to her feet.

‘Yes, I have to go.' He walked across the room and stopped in the small hallway. ‘Perhaps I could come and talk to you again, some time?'

Lowri shrugged, feeling somehow let down. ‘It's a free country.'

‘I'm not rushing home to an eager girlfriend,' he said, ‘there's just some business I have to see to.'

‘Nothing to do with me,' Lowri said flatly and closed the door in his face. She returned to the sitting-room and looked down at the two cups standing side by side on the table. Funny, it had never bothered her before, living alone. Being with Jon at the weekends had seemed to be an ideal arrangement. Now, for some reason, she felt lost.

She stood in front of the mirror and studied her appearance. She was fairly tall, her hair a natural dark red, well, almost natural, helped now and again with a rinse. She had unremarkable features though her eyes were quite good, large, long-lashed and a sort of hazel green. She usually made the most of them with the right shadow and mascara. Now they were naked, unadorned. But then she had not been expecting company.

She sank into a chair. That was twice DI Lainey had seen her at a disadvantage and yet, and yet, there had been an unmistakable light of interest in his eyes. Or did he merely want to prise information out of her? Well, if that was the case, he was not going to get very far. It seemed the inspector knew more about Jon Brandon than she ever had.

‘Why not come out with me and Timmy tonight?' Sally was swinging her long legs, admiring her slim ankles. It was quiet in the office: the lunch-time flurry of clients had gone back to work. ‘It doesn't do any good to sit in brooding, that will get you nowhere.'

‘I don't want to be a gooseberry,' Lowri said.

‘For heaven's sake!' Sally shook her head. ‘You won't be a gooseberry.'

‘Where are you going, anyway?'

‘Just out, we haven't really decided yet. Maybe just a drink at the Ship Inn. I've heard that a good crowd go there and if we're hungry, we can always have a bar meal. Come on, get your pretties on and do up your eyes and you'll have the men running after you in droves.'

‘I doubt that,' Lowri said.

‘Snap out of it!' Sally said in a hard voice. ‘You know what you're doing, don't you?'

‘You're going to tell me, I can see.' Lowri attempted a smile.

‘You are letting that bastard pull you down. He's dented your self-esteem or whatever the hell you call it. You need to build up your confidence again.'

Lowri gave in. ‘All right, I'll come.' She had been going to have a night in, have a relaxing bath, listen to music or watch some undemanding soap on the television. It was something she had enjoyed from the security of her relationship with Jon. Now the thought of a night alone had lost its appeal.

‘That's settled. We'll pick you up at half seven. OK?'

Lowri was saved from replying by the sound of the buzzer signalling the appearance of a client. She looked up and felt a frisson of surprise to see Sarah Brandon standing in the doorway leading through from reception.

She moved into the room, tall, well-groomed, with a look that would freeze the sea. She stared at Lowri without interest and then turned her attention to Sally, who was still sitting on the desk admiring her legs.

‘I want to know something.' She dispensed with any niceties. ‘You dealt with the lease for the property in Plunch Lane, didn't you?'

‘Well, not personally,' Sally said. ‘Our Mr Watson holds the lease to all the properties along the coast there.'

‘But you knew my husband? You went out with him? There is no way Jon would stay in this dead-and-alive hole unless he had found a woman and you are just his type, blonde, leggy and a little common.'

‘Excuse me!' Sally slid from the desk. ‘I don't know who you think you are talking to but I don't have to take that from anyone.'

Lowri rose to her feet. ‘Mrs Brandon,' she said, ‘please, Sally did not even meet Jon – Mr Brandon.'

Sarah ignored her. ‘Tell me you didn't sleep with him then?' Her eyes never left Sally's face. ‘I smelt your perfume on the pillows and shower gel of the sort I would never use was in the bathroom.'

‘What makes you think it was me?' Sally said. ‘I don't believe in going out with someone old enough to be my father.'

‘Liar!' Sarah spoke harshly. ‘He had money, he flattered you, gave you a good time. Don't try to get out of it, I found your name and address and phone number in his suit pocket at home. He knew you before he even came here. You are Sally White, aren't you?'

‘Well, yes.' Sally looked trapped. ‘But I really don't know why he should have my name and address, I didn't know him from Adam!'

She was lying, even Lowri could see it. But why, what did Sally have to do with Jon? Sally threw an agonized glance in Lowri's direction.

‘Look,' Lowri spoke more forcefully, ‘we sometimes give out our private number so that clients can contact us. Now if you have a complaint about the property we have leased you, why don't you make an appointment and come back when one of the solicitors is free?'