Page 33

chapter thirty-three

Gabriella stood uncomfortably in the hall.

It smelled of vinegar and lemon, and she could see her face in the polished end post of the massive staircase on her left that swept up and curved to the right overhead.

The door to the house had been opened after a long delay by a young woman a few years younger than herself, dressed in a bright orange ensemble Gabriella guessed would be called loungewear.

It was made from stretchy fabric, and if she were a betting woman, she’d say it was designed by Mary Quant. It was, no doubt, unspeakably expensive.

The woman had stepped out onto the porch when Gabriella had explained the situation, trying to see the accident for herself, and then, faced with the impenetrable fog, invited Gabriella in on a wave of Faberge Tigress perfume.

“The telephone is in my father’s study. I’ll have to go and ask him if you can use it.” She strolled away, unhurried, and Gabriella had to clamp down on her urge to tell her again that it was an emergency. That someone was injured.

The room the woman had come out of was to the right of the front door, and she’d left the door slightly ajar.

Gabriella caught a glimpse of a man lounging back on a pale gold sofa within. He shot her a grin, and got lazily to his feet.

Something about him screamed smug self-satisfaction, as if he’d never met a consequence he wasn’t able to dodge, and she stepped past the room, heading further down the hall in the direction the woman had taken.

“Who’re you?”

The voice came from above, and Gabriella looked up. A young girl was peering at her through the balusters, about halfway up the stairs.

“Gabriella Farnsworth,” she said. “There’s been an accident on the road in the fog, and I need to call an ambulance.”

“Did Victoria let you in?” the girl asked, rising to her feet and running lightly down the stairs.

“I’m not sure who let me in. She was wearing an orange jumpsuit.”

The girl reached the bottom and laughed out loud at that. “I’ll get Daddy. He’s a doctor, and the telephone’s in his office.” She ran past Gabriella, and a moment later she heard two feminine voices arguing up ahead, then someone hammering on a door.

“Daddy, there’s an accident on the road. They need to call an ambulance!” The girl’s voice was urgent.

“Why didn’t you tell me that’s what you wanted, Victoria?” The shock and exasperation in the man’s voice was clear. “Where’s the woman who came in.”

“She’s waiting in the front hall,” the girl said. “Where Victoria left her.”

Gabriella heard the door to the parlor creak open behind her, and she glanced around in time to see the man sneaking out.

She turned fully in his direction.

He paused at the front door, lifting a finger to his lips as if they were in on a prank or joke, silently asking her to keep quiet.

She gave in to the temptation to put him on the spot.

“It’s nice of you to go out and see if you can help,” she called, just as all three members of the household appeared.

Gabriella turned back to look at them.

“What’s Robbie still doing here?” The man with the two girls sounded shocked. He was large and bluff, wearing shirtsleeves and tweed pants. The young girl was holding his hand. Victoria hung back a little, fiddling with the collar of her jumpsuit.

“Victoria’s been canoodling with him in the front parlor for hours ,” the girl said.

At that, Robbie mumbled something and slipped out the front door.

“I really need to phone for an ambulance,” Gabriella said into the sudden silence his exit created. “There’s a man severely injured on the road, broken legs are a definite, and I’m not sure what internal injuries he’s sustained.”

Her words snapped the man out of his bemusement. “Right, Poppy will show you to my office so you can call 999. I’m a doctor. I’ll go out and see how I can help. Victoria, you’ll come with me so that you can run in to fetch whatever I may need.”

Victoria looked a little sick, and Gabriella wondered if she’d been deliberately slow-walking her trip to her father’s office to give Robbie a chance to disappear.

She followed after Poppy, who ran back down the passageway and into a dark, heavily-furnished space with a massive desk. She pointed to a telephone, and Gabriella asked for the address as she dialed 999.

When that was done, she left Poppy in the study and went back through the house to the front door. She had to step to the side as Victoria came in from outside, face pinched.

They shared a glance, and Gabriella could see dislike in the young woman’s eyes.

They said nothing as they passed each other.

Gabriella navigated the path carefully and followed the voices to a little group of two: the driver, Johnson, and the doctor.

“Where’s James?” she asked, and as soon as she said it, he appeared out of the swirling fog.

“Just checking something,” he said. He looked over at the doctor, crouched beside Teddy Roe.

“This is the man who lives in the house I went to. He’s a doctor,” Gabriella told him.

“Dr. Jenkins.” The man looked up. “Did you see what happened?”

“No. We came across him after Colonel Johnson had already hit him,” James said. “I’m DS Archer.” He took out his warrant card, and Gabriella saw Dr. Jenkins’ demeanor change. He had been suspicious of James, assuming he was at fault, but now he turned to look up at Johnson.

“How fast were you going when you hit him?” he asked.

“I was hardly going any speed at all. Do you see this fog?” Johnson sounded indignant. “He just jumped in front of the car, I tell you.”

Gabriella listened to the back and forth and guessed that Teddy Roe probably had run out in front of Johnson, but the colonel had definitely been contemplating leaving the scene, and she didn’t like him on those grounds alone.

“How long will the ambulance take?” Poppy’s clear, high voice cut across Johnson’s excuses, and everyone turned to her, surprised to find her watching them all.

“Poppy. In the house now. Your mother will have something to say about you being out at a scene of an accident in the dark like this.” Dr. Jenkins pointed toward the house. “Go.”

With a put-upon sigh, Poppy flounced away, and then Victoria appeared, carrying a blanket.

Jenkins took it from her, and from his demeanor, Gabriella guessed he was angry and disappointed in her. As soon as she handed it over, Victoria spun on her heel and disappeared back into the house.

“I’d give him something for the pain, but the ambulance crew won’t thank me for that. They like to assess their patients for themselves. I’m just going to make him a little more comfortable.” As Jenkins spoke, the sound of a siren came from the Holland Park Avenue end of the street, and as it got closer, the red lights on the ambulance roof danced strangely in the fog.

James strode out, waving his torch to slow them down when they got near, and Teddy Roe was soon strapped up and on his way to hospital.

“I’ve got your details,” James said to Johnson as the ambulance left, sirens wailing. “You can go home now.”

Johnson muttered something under his breath and disappeared into the fog, and she, James and Dr. Jenkins stepped onto the pavement to allow him to drive slowly past them, in the wake of the ambulance.

“Bad business,” Dr. Jenkins said.

“Thanks for your help.” James held out a hand to shake, and then they watched Jenkins go back toward his house. He disappeared in the fog before she even heard his garden gate squeak open and then closed.

Gabriella slipped her arm through James’s and they carried on walking.

“Where did you go?” Gabriella asked, when they were far enough away from the Jenkins’ house to be sure no one could hear them.

“Teddy Roe had the same idea as me. He was hanging around Harborne Close and claims he saw someone acting ‘suspicious’ and followed him. Whether it was the actual killer or not, we’ll never know. I quickly nipped down the street to check things out.” James tugged on her arm, and they started walking again.

“And everything looked fine?” she asked.

“Yes. But it’s only nine now. Too early for our man to be dumping bodies. I’ll walk you home and then I’ll go back and keep watch.”

She was silent for a good minute, thinking of reasons why he should take her with him, when someone coughed up ahead.

Her grip on James tightened, and she tried to see through the smog.

A figure coalesced from the mist, and she stopped in surprise, loosening her grip as James moved to stand in front of her.

“Robbie?” she asked, peering around James. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

Robbie cleared his throat, his gaze darting from her to James.

“Thought you were on your own,” he said, then tilted his head to James. “Where’d you come from?”

He wouldn’t have seen James when he’d left the house, Gabriella realized, because James had been checking out Harborne Close.

“This is Victoria Jenkins’ boyfriend,” Gabriella explained to James.

“How did he get ahead of us?” James wondered.

“He ran off as soon as he heard Dr. Jenkins coming out of his study,” Gabriella said.

“Hey, hey, thanks for that, by the way, making sure the old killjoy saw me,” Robbie said. He tried to make his voice jocular, but he failed.

Gabriella felt a frisson of fear. He’d been waiting for her, thinking she was on her own. What had he been planning to do?

“Full name?” James asked suddenly, pulling his warrant card out of his inner jacket.

“What?” Robbie stumbled back a step. “You’re a copper? Look, I was just going to tell her it wasn’t very nice to out me like that, and . . .” He trailed off.

“And?” James asked, voice sharp.

“Never mind.” Robbie turned and disappeared, and they both heard his footsteps fade as he ran away.

Gabriella stayed standing for a moment. “If you weren’t here . . .”

He had looked at her in a way that made her skin crawl when she’d gotten a glimpse of him in the parlor, and that was before she’d said a word to him. She wondered if she hadn’t called to him as he’d tried to sneak out—outing him, as he put it—whether he would have waited for her like he had.

Her guess was there was a strong chance he would have done it anyway, and come up with another excuse why he should waylay her.

James took her hand, and they started walking again.

“I’m going to call Dr. Jenkins and ask for Robbie’s full name,” James said. “And let him know about this incident.”

That would certainly make Robbie’s life a little harder. Gabriella approved.

“I don’t want you waiting for the killer on your own,” she said as they reached Holland Park Avenue and turned left toward Notting Hill.

“I’ll call Hartridge to meet me, don’t worry. I’ll need him if the killer does turn up.” She could hear the suppressed excitement in his voice. Like he was looking forward to it.

“If he comes tonight, it means he’s killed someone,” she said.

“I know.” His voice dropped an octave. “But I can’t guess where he might attack. The best I can do is use Teddy Roe’s information to watch where he might go afterward. Even though stopping him from hurting someone would be the main prize.”

She got it. James had to work with what he had, with what he could feasibly do. She just wished she could shout to everyone who was out and about on this filthy night to stay in, wherever they were.

Because a killer was on the hunt.