Person or Persons Unknown (6 page)

‘Well, as I said, I'll have to weigh up the pros and cons before coming to a decision. I still think you'd do better to employ someone whose job it is to do this sort of thing.'

A sudden thought struck her. ‘Have you told your parents you're approaching me?'

Zara shook her head. ‘First, I wanted to see what you'd say.'

‘I'd probably need their cooperation.'

‘But they don't
know
anything! That's the trouble!'

Privately, Rona thought they might know more than they realized – or, at any rate, admitted. Her mind elsewhere, she ate the last of the cake on her plate. There was no denying she was intrigued by the story, but Barnie's reaction could be iffy – he erred on the side of caution – and she was only too aware what Max's would be.

She refused Zara's offer of more tea and rose to her feet. As Zara also stood, Rona was momentarily aware of the rounded shape beneath her tunic. Whether that baby would know anything of its maternal grandparents might depend on her. It was a responsibility she wasn't sure she wanted.

It would have been natural, being in the neighbourhood, to have dropped in on her mother in the adjacent street, but Rona, though torn by guilt, had no wish to see her. Instead she drove quickly back into town, along Guild Street and up Dean's Crescent North to Farthings, the little house where Max had his studio and where, before going to see Zara, she had left Gus.

Between Farthings and the house next door was an alley leading to Max's garage, and she turned the car into it. A gate in the wall to her right gave access to the tiny piece of ground that served as a garden, and as she got out she could hear Gus barking a welcome. She tried the latch but the gate was bolted.

‘Sorry, boy,' she told him. ‘I'll have to go round the front.'

The solid wooden door opened directly off the pavement, opening on to a small passage with doors to left and right and another, standing open, straight ahead. Through this Gus now came skittering, paws sliding on the polished boards, tail wagging as though he'd endured a week's absence rather than a couple of hours'. Rona bent to fondle his ears.

‘Hi!' she called up the steep, open staircase.

‘Hi!' Max responded. ‘Come for the hound?'

‘Yep, but I'd like a word, if you can spare the time.'

It was an unwritten rule that she didn't disturb him during working hours, nor he her, unless it was urgent.

‘Yes, I'm knocking off now. Come on up while I finish off.'

Leaving Gus in the hall, she went up to the studio that spread across the entire upper level. It had originally been a loft, but the carpenter next door, who had done a lot of work for Max when he first bought the cottage, had transformed it, putting in skylights and opening up dark corners.

As her head and shoulders emerged above the stairwell, she saw him drape a cloth over the easel, and knew better than to ask to see his work. He'd show it to her when he was ready.

‘I need to get things ready for the class,' he said, ‘but fire away; I can listen while I'm doing it.'

She walked to the window and looked down at the street, not many feet below. It was homecoming time; men and women with briefcases, and old ladies with shopping baskets, were making their way along the narrow pavements, and Guild Street, running along the end of the road, was now clogged with traffic. Behind her, she could hear Max setting up the stools and easels for his students.

‘I have a problem,' she said, her eyes following two boys cycling, to the peril of pedestrians, on the opposite pavement. ‘You know I went to see Zara?'

‘Don't tell me,' Max replied. ‘She wants you to investigate a murder!'

Rona spun round. His back was towards her, but when she didn't respond, she saw his shoulders stiffen before he turned slowly to face her.

‘Joke!' he said heavily. ‘Rona, that was a
joke
. Right?'

For a minute longer they stared at each other. Then he let go of the stool he was holding and it fell with a clatter to the floor. ‘God Almighty!' he said explosively. Then, turning towards the stairs, ‘We'd better go down and you can tell me about it. I have to get supper, anyway.'

Class evenings necessitated an early meal.

He clattered down the stairs ahead of her. Gus, seeing their set faces, waved his tail uncertainly and trotted after them into the kitchen.

‘Going back outside?' Max asked him, and the dog hastily sat down and looked up at him, tongue lolling. ‘Apparently not.' He closed the back door. ‘There's a bottle of wine in the fridge,' he added. ‘Help yourself, and pour one for me. Are you staying for supper?'

‘I'm not hungry,' Rona replied. ‘I've just had the most enormous piece of cake.'

‘Then you'll have to sit and watch me, and while I eat, you can recount your problem. Though I might as well tell you, if murder really is involved, I wash my hands of it. You've put the fear of God into me twice already this year.'

She watched as he took a dish of lasagne out of the oven, crisply brown on top, sauce bubbling round the edges. He spooned a generous portion on to a plate, set it on a tray together with knife, fork and his wine glass and, motioning to her to follow, went through to the living room and placed the tray on the small table at one end. Beyond it, the little walled garden lay bathed in mellow sunshine. Gus settled himself in his usual position under the table.

‘Right,' Max said, ‘you'd better fill me in.'

Slowly, sorting it out in her mind as she went, she did so.

‘So, you have a mother who got herself murdered,' he summarized, ‘and a father who scarpered. Connected, obviously.'

‘It seems not. He emigrated before he even knew she was pregnant.'

‘If they know that much about him, they must know his name,' Max argued.

‘You'd think so, but Zara swears not.'

‘What about her grandparents? Surely they must have known him?'

Rona sipped her wine thoughtfully. ‘I didn't think to ask, but Gemma wasn't living at home. She was sharing a flat with another girl – the one who found her.'

Max shook his head despairingly. ‘God, love, you attract them like a magnet, don't you? The Harvey business was bad enough, but once it was cleared up, I thought that was that. I never dreamed it was the start of your becoming a pseudo-detective. I tell you, my nerves won't stand it. How many more times are you going to put yourself in danger?'

‘It needn't be dangerous,' Rona protested unconvincingly. ‘People are searching for their birth parents every day.'

‘Well, she's already found her mother, hasn't she? Or rather, she knows who she was. The fact that she's dead should be the end of it. As to her father, are you proposing to fly to Australia and search the outback for him?'

‘Don't be facetious, Max,' Rona said crisply. ‘I came to you for advice.'

‘Well, that's easy enough: don't touch it with a bargepole.' He eyed her over a laden forkful of lasagne. ‘Not that I flatter myself you'll take it. You're using me as a sounding board, aren't you?'

She smiled wryly. ‘I hoped you wouldn't notice!'

‘What's your gut feeling about it?'

‘I don't know. It smacks of banging my head against a brick wall, but I admit I'm intrigued. If Barnie's agreeable and I
do
take it, I'll set myself a time limit. If I don't get anywhere in, say, six weeks, I'll give up.'

‘I thought these things could take years.'

‘I can't spare years. I need to earn a living.'

The clock on the mantelpiece chimed seven.

Max put his empty plate on the tray. ‘I'll have to make a move, love. I didn't finish preparing upstairs, and they start to arrive at quarter past.'

‘OK. Thanks for listening.'

‘Let me know what you decide.'

Rona garaged the car in Charlton Road, snapped on Gus's lead, and turned towards home. The dog, ever hopeful, tugged in the direction of the footpath leading up to the park, but she shook her head. It would be dark soon.

‘Tomorrow,' she promised.

As she walked slowly back to the house, her mind replayed the conversations she'd had, first with Zara Crane and then with Max. He had a point, she thought; Gemma's parents must surely have known who the father was. She wondered if Zara had obtained her mother's birth certificate, which would give their names.

Back in the house she fed the dog, but still wasn't hungry herself. She went up to the study, switched on the computer, and typed out everything she could remember that Zara had told her. Then she sat staring at the screen, trying to decide what to do. Would Barnie be interested in articles on the search for birth parents? Surely it would be fascinating to learn of the different reactions – parent to child, child to parent, and how often parents refused even to meet their offspring? She would have to sell it to him if she were to proceed with Zara's request; though she was freelance, she tended to confine herself to
Chiltern Life
,
and couldn't offhand think of anyone else to whom to send the article. And the more she thought about it, the more she felt she'd like to do it.

Finally, hunger at last beginning to stir, she turned off the computer and went downstairs, deciding to go along to Dino's for a meal. She hadn't booked, but a Monday evening shouldn't be too busy, and she was confident he would squeeze her in. She and Max were regular customers and, hating cooking as she did, she often went alone when he was working.

Ten minutes later, with Gus at her side, she set off down the avenue and turned into Fullers Walk, at the top of which lay Guild Street, the main shopping area. Dean's Crescent, however, branched off about two thirds of the way along, winding its way past the restaurant and the offices of
Chiltern Life
to the upper end of Guild Street, and, having crossed it, became Dean's Crescent North, where she'd left Max an hour or so earlier.

Dino greeted her with his usual exuberance. ‘Ah signora!
Benvenuto
! You are alone this evening? We will find you a nice table.'

She was following him across the room when a voice hailed her, and she turned to see Gavin Ridgeway rising to his feet at a table nearby. ‘Rona! Max not with you? Come and join me.'

‘Hello, Gavin. Are you on your own, too?'

‘Magda's off on a buying trip. Let's be lonely together!'

She hesitated, not sure she wanted an evening in Gavin's exclusive company; it unsettled her that he should look so exactly the same as when they'd been together – attractively irregular features, thick, ash-blond hair. However, she could scarcely decline. With an apologetic glance at Dino, she went to join him, and he pulled out a chair as Dino signalled a waiter to lay another place. She was being foolish, she told herself; their romance was five years in the past and both were now happily married. All the same, an underlying guilt remained that, while considering his proposal, she had met and fallen for Max.

He handed her the menu and, recalling the appetizing smell of Max's supper, she ordered
lasagne al forno
.

‘It was a good party the other week,' she began, as he poured her some wine.

‘Glad you enjoyed it. The trouble with that sort of do is there's never time for a proper conversation, especially if you happen to be the host.'

Rona toyed with the roll on her plate. ‘That couple I was talking to when you “rescued” me,' she began diffidently.

‘The Cranes?'

‘Yes. You were right; I
was
in need of rescuing.'

He smiled. ‘To be honest, I wasn't sure they'd fit in, but I like young Crane and he's been a bit down in the mouth lately.'

Rona looked up quickly. ‘Oh?'

‘Turns out his wife was adopted, and, now they're expecting a family, she's set her heart on tracing her parents.' He hesitated. ‘And strictly
entre nous
,
they had rather a shock when they looked into it.'

‘Oh?' Rona said again, conscious of her quickened heartbeat.

‘Her mother had been
murdered
, would you believe?'

She took a quick decision; Zara had not requested secrecy, and if she undertook the task, her involvement would soon become common knowledge. ‘Actually, Gavin, I know about it,' she admitted. ‘That's what I meant about needing to be rescued. She wants me to find her killer.'

He put down his glass and stared at her. Then he gave a shout of laughter. ‘God, Rona, you're not serious? How the hell did she …? Ah, I remember now: Magda was proclaiming your successes in that field last time we saw them. I thought at the time young Zara seemed unduly interested. Did she ask you at the party?'

‘Only to discuss something; I went round this afternoon.'

‘Are you going to do it?'

‘I don't know.'

Their plates were set before them and they began to eat in silence. Then Rona said tentatively, ‘You say her husband seems depressed?'

Gavin shrugged. ‘He wants her to drop it, obviously. Thinks it might harm the baby if she has any more upsets. Whether that's feasible or not, I wouldn't know.'

‘It's odd they never found out who did it. The absent father seems to have been the only suspect, and he had the best of alibis.'

‘How so?'

‘By emigrating to Australia months earlier, blissfully unaware of impending parenthood.'

‘Ah! That, I didn't know.' Gavin glanced at her. ‘How does Max feel about this? Your taking it on, I mean?'

Rona pulled a face. ‘As you'd expect.'

‘Can't say I blame him. You've had some narrow escapes this last year.'

‘His point exactly.' The corners of her mouth lifted. ‘I have to say, though, that hunting murderers adds a certain piquancy to life!'

‘Well, for God's sake be careful.'