Quiller Solitaire Page 3

Then there was another voice, from the garden next door. 'Billy! Come in at once!'

  'There's a man there,' Billy called.

  'Oh for goodness' sake, come in at once! I'm awfully sorry, Helen!'

  'Don't worry. He just wanted to know I was all right.'

  There was the sound of scuffling among dead leaves, and a final cry as the battle was lost. 'Can I have my engine back?'

  'Billy, you little brat!' More scuffling. 'I'll give you a ring this evening, Helen!'

  'All right.'

  A door slammed over there. Helen looked around her, then down at her hands. 'I'm sorry. Where were we exactly?'

  'We were talking about the Red Army Faction,' I said, 'but let's cut a few corners. There must be someone in Berlin who could give me some clues about your – about George. I mean someone among his friends. My department wants me to go over there and see what I can find out. We want to know who killed him.'

  In a moment she looked up. 'So do I. It was such a beastly thing to do to a man. Even to him.'

  That was the second clue. I wasn't sure that she was really aware of what she'd said, of how it sounded. I left it.

  It's probably occurred to you that if you decided to help us in Berlin, you might be running a risk.'

  She looked surprised. 'A risk of what?'

  'George was murdered. You were his wife.'

  'But I never had anything to do with… whatever he was doing. He didn't take me into his confidence about anything. I was just his -' She looked away, and said in a moment, 'I don't think I'd be risking anything. It doesn't worry me. The thing is, I really don't see how I can help.'

  'You knew his friends?'

  She looked down. She did it quite often. 'He didn't actually have any friends. Not real ones. There were lots of acquaintances -he was the first cultural attache, as you probably know. Lots of parties, picnics with what he called "cultivatable people", always something going on. But no real friends.'

  In the silence we heard the starlings and robins rustling among the frosted leaves, a vehicle in the distance with its exhaust pipe blown, a man coughing in one of the gardens along the street, where smoke rose from a bonfire through the trees.

  'Did you go to Berlin often?'

  'Quite often, yes. Whenever he sent for me. I mean… whenever he needed me.'

  'You didn't want to stay over there in Berlin, instead of making all those trips?'

  'I don't like Berlin. It's too fast, too frenetic, after somewhere like Reigate.' A shy smile. 'I like quiet places. Old places.'

  So what I was going to do was leave her here in peace and tell Shatner it wasn't on, she couldn't help us, Didn't know any of Maitland's friends because he'd never had any. I would go to Berlin under cover and start from scratch. She'd had quite enough of that place, and her last memory of it had been 'beastly', the brutal end of a man she'd known, not loved, but known quite well. Or had she loved him, 'even a man like him?'

  'There was,' she said suddenly, 'now that I think of it, someone you could call a friend of his. They had a lot of meetings. George often said, "I've got a meeting with Willi."'

  Perhaps a breakthrough. 'Can you give me his address?

  She looked at me quickly. 'He wouldn't see you. He doesn't trust anyone now, because of what happened.'

  'Did you go to any of these "meetings" with him?'

  'No. But I saw quite a lot of him at the parties, and' – she shrugged – 'around.'

  So we'd got to go through with it after all. Would he see me if you took me to him personally?'

  She thought about it. 'Yes. Is that what you want me to do?'

  One of the hardest things in this trade is to keep some kind of liking for yourself, some self-respect, while you're doing the things you've got to do. 'Yes,' I said. And as a sop, I suppose, to my conscience, 'But don't underestimate the risks.'

  With a nice smile, 'I expect you're being over-solicitous.'

  'Not really. Do you know, for instance, that your house is being watched?'

  She swung her head to look at me. 'This house?'

  'Yes.'

  Why would anyone do that?

  She didn't know what had happened to McCane. 'They might be waiting for you to leave, so that they can make a search. George could have left something here, or concealed something. They searched his car in Berlin, and his flat.' Or of course the man out there in the black Vauxhall could be waiting for me. I was here in a dead man's shoes.

  I believe she shivered slightly under the heavy coat; I wasn't sure. She looked cold, despite the sheepskin. Cold or afraid, or both. 'Don't worry,' I told her, 'about the man out there. We'll take care of him, and you won't see him again.' I blew into my hands. 'On second thoughts some tea might be rather nice, warm us up, what do you think?

  She stood up at once. 'I'm sorry, yes, I'm not doing terribly well, am I, as a hostess.' As we went across the lawn she asked, 'But what will you do, about the man out there?' Then immediately – 'I shouldn't ask, I expect.'

  'He won't bother you, that's all that matters.' I picked up the battered red railway engine. 'You'd better look after this, or you'll be in trouble.'

  The smile came again, like a flash of soft light. 'Poor Billy – he's got asthma. Or at least that's what they think it is.'

  She led me through a small conservatory at the back of the house, with some galoshes in a row and straw for tying plants, a big amaryllis in a pot, the smell of earth and dampness. 'If you're still willing,' I said, 'to go to Berlin, how soon could you make it?

  She stopped and turned and we were suddenly close and I caught her perfume and looked into the cool grey eyes and wondered what in fact she had been to George Maitland, I was just his – and she'd looked away.

  'I haven't any plans,' she said. 'I could go whenever you wanted me to.'

  Tonight?

  'Tonight, yes.'

  'I'll check with my department, see if they can get tickets.'

  'Whatever you say.' She took me into a large low-ceilinged room with beams and a brick fireplace and a small grand piano, framed photographs on a cabinet, copies of Connoisseur on a wicker stool, a glove lying on them, its pair on the floor just below, a man's – his? – and some road maps. The room was in perfect order, but as she went past the stool she didn't pick up the glove, though she saw it and I think hesitated before she went through into the kitchen. 'Sit down, won't you?' she said over her shoulder. 'What sort of tea do you like? I've got Earl Grey, Lapsang Souchong -'

  'Whatever you're having. Can I use the phone?'

  'But please. It's over there.'

  I went across to it. There was an answering machine, switched off. I dialled a random number and heard the solenoid trip in and waited for the voice on the tape to tell me I'd dialled a number that wasn't in service, then I rang off. I could see Helen Maitland through the hatchway into the kitchen; she was putting some water into a kettle.

  I I switched on the answering machine. 'I'm just going out to the car,' I told her. 'If the phone rings, do you mind not picking it up? Let the machine take it?'

  In a moment, watching me through the hatchway, 'All right.'

  I went out to the Jaguar and got on the phone to Signals and asked for Shatner. A car was going past the end of the driveway and I slid low in the seat until it had gone. Some starlings were lined up along the telephone wires, nagging and preening; there was no other sound; this was a peaceful part of the world, and I was sorry we were asking this young widow to go to Berlin and into possible danger; it seemed like gratuitous abuse. But some of the things she'd said on the lawn had been interesting. 'It was such a beastly thing to do to a man. Even to him… I never had anything to do with… whatever he was doing… I was just his… Wife? Chattle?' There was something subservient about her, unquestioning. I haven't any plans. I could go whenever you wanted me to… Whatever you say…

  'Yes?'

  Shatner. I said, 'I'm there now. The house is being watched and the phone's bugged. She's ready to go over there with m
e. How soon can you take care of things here?'

  'Stand by.'

  There was a voice calling, Billy's, I think, not calling to anyone in particular, chanting some rhyme or other; he was banging at something, keeping time.

  'I can put some people in there in thirty minutes,' Shatner said, 'or not much more. What do you need?'

  'I need to get her away from the house unseen, and then we should put a watch on the place round the clock. They may try to break in and make a search. And the phone needs clearing.'

  He didn't answer right away. He might be making notes. I didn't know whether he was a man to make notes of things; I hoped not; I wanted a control with instant memory to run me in the field.

  'You'll get a call,' he said. 'About half an hour.'

  I went back into the house.

  'Do you take milk?'

  'No.' Pleasant smell of Lapsang, dry and smoky.

  'Sugar?'

  'No.' Silver tray, white linen, sugar tongs. No one had phoned: the machine wasn't blinking. 'Look, I don't want to rush you,' I said, 'but how long would it take you to pack?'

  'Her head swung up.'

  'How long for?'

  'A day or two. I can't say exactly.'

  She gave me my tea. 'If it's any more than that I can buy things.' She'd taken her coat and boots off while I'd gone to the car; she was slighter than she'd seemed. 'I've been trained to pack quickly. He never gave me any warning when he wanted me out there.' She conjured a faint smile to mean she hadn't minded. She had. 'Give me twenty minutes? All I need is makeup and some undies and things.' She was leaning forward over the tea-tray, small stockinged feet together, hands on the front of her thighs, a lock of fair hair hanging across her cheek. 'Would that be quick enough?' 'Just right. I'd like to leave here in about half an hour. Do you use a security service?'

  'No.'

  'Alarm system?'

  'Yes, But I never switch it on.'

  'Really. George never asked you to, when you left the place empty?'

  'No. Or I would have.'

  'Never mind. We don't need to set it today, either. My department's going to look after this house with a twenty-four-hour guard, so you don't have to worry about a thing.'

  Her eyes widened a little. 'I see. All right.' She straightened up. 'I'll take mine up with me, shall I?' She was actually waiting for me, I thought, to approve.

  'Of course. I'm sorry it's not quite the leisurely tea party you were thinking of.'

  That isn't why you came.'

  'No. Are there phones upstairs?'

  'Yes. There's one in the bedroom.'

  'Don't answer it if it rings.'

  'All right.'

  I looked round the room while she was upstairs.

  There was just an ordinary lock on the door to the conservatory, no dead-bolt, and nothing on the windows, just the usual fastener. The alarm system wasn't wired; it went through a master control from sensors; there was only one of them here, and it was a big room. And Maitland never asked her to set the alarm system anyway, even though she was apparently away in Berlin with him fairly often – I've been trained to pack quickly. Perhaps his flat over there was the same, with no real security. I thought it was odd that anyone should have rifled his car and smashed their way into his flat and killed him so viciously, when he didn't seem to have expected any kind of trouble at all.

  'Was I quick enough?

  She stood with her feet together at the bottom of the stairs, looking very young in a cashmere sweater and slacks and soft flat shoes, holding a Lufthansa bag. She'd put more scent on, but it seemed almost precocious.

  'Yes,' I said. 'And you look very nice.'

  'I was hoping you might say that.'

  'Have some more tea,' I said. 'We don't have to go just yet.'

  'All right.' She never questioned anything, hadn't said, Then I needn't have hurried.' Her slight breasts moved under the cashmere as she leaned over the tea-tray. 'Would you like some more too?'

  'Thank you, no.' I wondered for the first time whether I should have put my trust in Shatner, because in the next ten minutes or so we'd be in a red sector. Last night they'd killed McCane and it looked as if they'd killed him because he'd been coming here to see Maitiand's widow. I'd come farther than he had: I was here with her now.

  'Will they -' she began, and then the telephone rang and she jumped slightly and looked at me and I shook my head. The answering-machine cut in.

  This is George Maitland. I can't come to the telephone now, but if you'll leave your name, number and any message, I'll phone you back as soon as I can.

  We were listening to a dead man's voice but she didn't react in any way. She was sitting on the floor with her legs to one side, cupping her tea in both hands. The beep sounded.

  'Er, yes, this is Jim, down at the garage. We can pick up your car any time you say, and have the oil changed and everything before seven tonight. Give us a buzz if you want us to fetch it, will you? Number's 483-2230. Thank you.'

  Another beep. I said, 'Is it all right if we have someone sleep here while you're in Berlin?' A place like this would have a guest room.

  She seemed surprised. 'If you think it's necessary.' She hadn't got the message yet. A lot of things were going to be necessary now.

  'Yes.'

  'All right,' she said. 'There's always a bed made up in the guest room.'

  'We'll need the keys.' I went over and picked up her bag. The initials GKM on the leather in brass. She didn't have luggage of her own?

  'All the keys?'

  'Just the front door.'

  She got them from her worn suede bag. She liked old places; perhaps old things, too. 'I'd better lock up all round,' she said.

  'Don't worry. They'll move in the minute we've left.' It took her a moment to accept that too. She didn't ask where they were coming from or how long it would take them. The only clue she had was that she hadn't asked her garage to do an oil change and there probably wasn't a man working there called Jim. She was learning not to ask questions if she could help it, and that was going to be very convenient. I said, We'll be on our way then, shall we?'

  It was nearly dark when we went outside again. 'When you're away for any length of time, you leave the answering-machine on, do you?'

  'Yes.'

  I dropped her bag into the boot of my car and shut the lid quietly. They'll monitor every message and send the daily take to you in Berlin. Will that be all right?'

  'It's not important, really. They'll only be from, you know, the tradespeople or Marjorie next door, or my mother. They need to -'

  There won't be any calls for George? From people who haven't heard?'

  'He never had many calls. He was in Berlin most of the time.'

  I opened the passenger door for her and she got in, her fair hair swinging. I shut the door without slamming it and went round to the other side. The street lights had come on, but they weren't very high, or very bright; this was a quiet street on the edge of the town. A cat was loping across the pavement opposite, its eyes trapping the light for an instant as it turned to look at us.

  Would you like to slide down a bit,' I asked Helen, 'on the seat?'

  She turned to look at me. 'All right.'

  I picked up the phone and dialled 483-2230 and waited.

  The head of the cat moved like a hunter's; its shoulders flexed rhythmically under the dark fur. There'd be a small gift of some sort on the mat by morning, an offering to its patrons, perhaps the bloodied entrails of a rat.

  'Jim here.'

  I said, 'The house is open, and I've left the key of the front door on the tea-tray in the sitting room. That all right?

  'Sure. We'll be there.'

  'What's your set-up?' I asked him.

  'I'll give you a countdown, then you can move. Okay?

  'All right. Listen, if a boy called Billy from next door comes and asks for his railway engine back, give it to him. It's in the little conservatory, next to the amaryllis pot.'

  'Will
do.'

  I started the engine. 'Ready when you are.' I put the phone back and looked at Helen and said, 'Seat belt.'

  'I'm always forgetting,' she said.

  Jim's voice started sounding over the speaker. 'All right – ten – nine – eight -'

  'A bit lower,' I said to Helen, 'can you?' She slid down some more, easing her thin hips under the lap strap. -Just for a minute,' I told her, 'then you can sit up again.' I didn't want her silhouette presenting a target against the street lights.

  'Five – four – three -'

  I shifted into gear.

  'Two – one – zero.'

  I took it gently at first because I didn't want any squeal from the tyres but as soon as we were out of the driveway I gunned up a little and then a lot as we straightened, a lit of a whimper from the treads but it didn't matter now because Jim was going into the routine in the street up there and we heard a crash of metal and then glass smashing as I hit second and gave her the gun and then there was quite a lot of tyre scream from behind us as the Vauxhall tried backing up and swinging clear but Jim would have been waiting for that and got in its way again with a lot of noise as we reached the corner and I took the side street and said, 'You can sit up now.'

  Chapter 4: SOLITAIRE

  Shatner lit another cigarette, screwing up his eyes against the smoke.

  'What's she like?

  I don't think he'd slept, as I had, since I'd seen him last. I would say he'd been in Signals with Berlin again, exhaustively.

  'Shy,' I said, 'quiet, nervy, guileless, subservient.'

  He'd told me we were putting her up at the Holiday Inn at Heathrow until the plane left; they'd had a car waiting for her when we'd reached Whitehall.

  'Subservient?' Shatner said. 'Dominated by Maitland, do you think?'

  'Yes. But I'd say she was like that when he married her.' We were trying to get a bearing on Maitland's character: it could be important. 'I mean, women don't usually let a man dominate them unless they've been set up by their fathers first.'

  Shatner dropped ash. 'What was their relationship, would you say?

  I told him how she'd spoken of her husband. Not lovingly. 'Look,' I said, 'she's got to come with me to persuade Willi Hartman to talk to me, and he's our only access for the moment. But as soon as I can, I want to send her back home. She's appallingly vulnerable.'