Fine Lines

Chapter Eleven

When my telephone rang that evening, I felt sure it would be Anna. I could think of no one else it could be. I had already spoken to Zeppo, and few other people called me at home. But the voice that answered was patently not hers.

“Mr. Ramsey?”

“Yes?” The brief elation I had felt disappeared.

“It’s Margaret Thornby here.”

The name meant nothing to me. Then I put it together with the voice, which seemed vaguely familiar, and my spirits sank even lower.

“Sorry to bother you,” she went on. “But I wondered if you’re going to be busy next Wednesday?”

Still disappointed that she was not Anna, I was slow to see what was coming. “Next Wednesday? Ah... I’m not...”

“The thing is, I’ve arranged to see someone next Wednesday morning,” she said, “And I did say I’d let you know the next time I was coming into the city, so I thought I’d give you a ring and see if I couldn’t offer to buy you lunch.”

She gave a jolly little laugh that left me entirely cold. “I’m giving you a bit more notice this time. I could see I caught you unawares when I called into the gallery the other week, so I thought it was only fair to give you plenty of warning before I descended on you again.”

I frantically racked my brains for an excuse. “Ah... next Wednesday...” I had a brain wave “Just let me check in my diary.”

I moved the telephone away from my mouth. After a while I put it back. “Now, Wednesday... That’s the...?”

“The sixteenth, I think.”

“Yes, the sixteenth. Oh, what a shame. I’m out of town all day.”

“Are you? Oh, what a pity.” If we had been in the same room, I felt sure she would have put her hand on my arm again.

“Yes, I’m sorry about that, but you know how these things are...”

“Well, that’s business, I suppose.” She laughed. “It would be worse if you weren’t busy, wouldn’t it?”

Reprieved, I laughingly agreed. “Perhaps the next time we might have more luck.”

“Well, I’m not sure when it’ll be. As I said, my trips into the centre tend to be few and far between.” For which I was grateful. “But I’m sure we’ll be able to meet up sometime or other.”

We chatted for a while longer about the progress, or lack of it, of our relative insurance claims, and by the time I put the telephone down, relief at my narrow escape made me feel quite well disposed towards her. Then I remembered what Anna had said.

I had given little thought lately to her joking suggestion that the woman might have designs on me. But now the idea lodged in my mind. First she had called into the gallery. Now she had telephoned me. That was not normal behaviour towards someone whose car you had run into. Or, as she claimed, had run into you. Disturbed, I poured myself a drink. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed that Anna might have been right.

I felt a sudden need to talk to her. She answered the telephone on the second ring.

“Hello?” She sounded rushed and expectant.

“It’s Donald. I thought I’d call to see if Marty was back.”

Her disappointment was dishearteningly obvious. “Oh, hello Donald. No, he’s not.”

“Have you heard anything from him?”

“No. Nothing at all.”

Now I had called, I was unsure what to say. “Are you all right?”

She attempted a laugh. “I’d be better if I knew where Marty is. No one’s seen him since yesterday. I don’t know whether to phone the police, or... or what.” She drew a long, shaky breath. She seemed to be controlling herself with effort.

“Would you like me to come over?”

Her voice had a slight tremor. “No, it’s okay, thanks. A friend of mine’s going to stay.”

It was my turn to feel disappointed. “Well, let me know as soon as you hear anything.”

“I will. Look, I’m going to have to go, Donald. I want to keep the phone free in case he rings.”

“Yes, of course. And don’t worry about coming into the gallery tomorrow. Just... well, just see how you feel.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She sounded distant and uninterested. It was clear she did not want to talk to me. I said goodbye and put the receiver down feeling worse than before I made the call. It had only let me see that, in spite of everything, Anna still regarded me only as her employer. Not a friend or confidant. I tried not to be disheartened, and told myself that I could expect nothing else. Obviously, she had other people she would turn to before me. I would just have to be patient.

It was still early days.

The next day it was almost lunchtime before Anna arrived. She looked pale and tired. Her eyes were red and puffy.

“Have you heard anything?” I asked, brushing aside her apologies.

She shook her head. “Not from Marty. I’ve just had the police around to the flat. That’s why I’m late.”

“The police?” I was glad I was behind her; she could not see my face.

“I reported Marty as missing, so they sent a couple of policemen to take the details.” Her voice was dull.

“What did they say?”

“Not much, really. I did find one thing out, though.” She tried to smile. “Wherever he is, he’s taken a suitcase with him.”

“A suitcase?”

“One’s gone. Along with some of his clothes and his passport.”

I looked shocked. “When did you notice this?”

“This morning, when the police were at the flat. One of them asked if anything of his was missing, and I said no, because I didn’t think it was. I’d seen his clothes in the wardrobe, so it never occurred to me to check if anything had actually gone. And I didn’t think it would have. I thought if he’d gone anywhere he would have told me. But then they asked if they could search the flat, and when I went around with them I realised one of the suitcases wasn’t there. So then I had another look through his clothes, and saw some of them had gone as well. Then one of the policemen asked if I knew where his passport was, and I looked but couldn’t find that, either.” She did not look at me as she spoke.

“Is anything else missing?”

“Not really. Most of his clothes were still there. His chequebook’s gone too, but that’s all. Nothing of mine’s missing, if that’s what you mean. The police made me check.”

“Anna... I don’t know what to say.”

“Not much to say, really, is there?”

“Have you any idea where he might have gone?”

“No. None at all.” She stared at the table top. “I just can’t understand it. He wouldn’t just go off somewhere without letting me know. He’d have left a note, or something. And he certainly wouldn’t go all this time without phoning me.”

“Is there anyone he might have left a message with?”

“No one I’ve not already phoned. Except his parents, and I can’t see Marty telling them anything. And I don’t know how to get in touch with them anyway. Their number’s in his address book, and he carries that with him.”

I knew. I had given it to Zeppo to burn. “I don’t want to pry, but can you think of any reason why he might have left?”

She shook her head. “That’s just it, I can’t! It’s not as if we’ve had an argument, or anything. The last thing he said when I phoned him was that he was missing me.” Abruptly, she covered her face. “Oh, Christ, I feel so confused!” Just as suddenly, she recovered. She wiped her eyes. “Sorry.” I offered her a handkerchief, awkwardly. “Here. It’s clean.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m all right now. Really.” She gave me a shaky smile to prove it. “It’s just that I don’t know what to think, that’s all. One minute I want to kill him, the next I’m certain something’s happened to him. I keep going round and round in circles.”

I nodded, sympathetically. “Are the police going to do anything?”

“They’ve already checked with all the hospitals, but nobody answering Marty’s description’s been admitted recently. That’s something, I suppose. So now they just list him as a missing person, which means they’ll keep an eye out for him at airports and train stations, places like that. But I can’t see them trying very hard. Not when it looks as though he’s packed up and walked out.”

“Is that what they said?”

“Not in so many words. They were polite enough, but I could see what they thought. I’m just some neurotic girlfriend, whose boyfriend’s left her. I suppose you can’t really blame them, can you?”

I sidestepped the question. “What about his work at the university? Has he been under pressure from that lately?”

“No more than usual. Not enough to make him do anything like this. And he loves it, anyway. He wouldn’t just drop out without saying anything. That’s what I can’t understand. I know what it looks like, but I can’t believe he’d just walk out like this.” She looked at me. “What do you think, Donald? Honestly?”

It was my turn to shake my head. “I really don’t know, Anna. I can’t claim to know him well enough to say.”

“Yes, but what do you think?”

I sighed. “Well, let’s say I’d perhaps be more concerned for his welfare if his luggage and passport were still here. As it is...” I spread my hands.

“I know. It looks like he’s left me.”

I said nothing. Anna was quiet for a moment. “But in that case, why didn’t he take everything with him?” she burst out. “Most of his clothes are still here. And all his personal things as well. If he was leaving he’d take everything, wouldn’t he?”

“I don’t know, Anna.”

“And why hasn’t he got in touch with me? Or the university?”

“Perhaps...” I stopped. “No, it doesn’t matter.”

“No, go on. Please.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Anna. I’m not saying he has. But... well, perhaps he felt he needed some time to think.”

“What do you mean?”

I spoke cautiously. “Well, perhaps he hasn’t been in contact because he was afraid to. I don’t want to upset you, but it does seem a coincidence that this has happened only weeks before the two of you leave for America.”

She frowned. “You mean he might have had second thoughts?”

“All I’m saying is that it’s a possibility.”

Anna considered this only briefly. “No. No, he wouldn’t do something like that without telling me. Besides, he’s as keen on the idea as I am.” She was emphatic.

I inclined my head. “Obviously you know him best. But try and look at it objectively. I know it’s hard, but if you look at the bare facts, forgetting for the moment who’s involved, then they do seem to suggest something like that. Marty spends two days on his own, and the day before you arrive back he disappears with a packed suitcase and his passport.”

“You mean he might have gone to America without me?”

I had not actually meant that, but it seemed a useful idea. I gave a helpless shrug. Anna was silent as she considered this new possibility.

“No, he wouldn’t do that,” she said after a while. But she seemed less certain than before. “Not without saying something. And most of his things are still here. He must be planning to come back. He could have just taken his passport because... because...”

I said nothing. She smiled sadly. “I can’t get away from that, can I? Why has he taken his passport unless he was planning to use it?”

“I’m sure there could be any number of reasons,” I said. But I did not attempt to give any.

Anna stared into space. “I just hope he gets in touch soon.”

I patted her arm. “I’m sure he will.”

A sort of tense calm settled over the next few days. Anna was quiet and withdrawn. She contacted the police regularly, as much to make sure they were actually trying to find Marty as anything else. They claimed to be doing everything they could, but Anna was not convinced. And her own helplessness weighed on her almost as much as Marty’s disappearance. She declined my offer of time off. “I’d rather work than just sit at home and wait,” she said.

I began to feel cautiously optimistic. I had given Zeppo an indefinite holiday, telling him I would be in touch when he was needed again. There was a tacit agreement that the original bargain, to seduce Anna, still stood. Whether this was because Zeppo himself saw this as unfinished business, or simply because it never occurred to him to question it, I have no idea. I was only glad he seemed to take it for granted. In any event, I had not expected to call on him again for weeks. I could not see Anna welcoming another man’s attentions so soon after Marty’s disappearance. But what with the apparent lack of police concern, and her growing acceptance that Marty had left of his own accord, I began to think Zeppo might be able to resume his campaign sooner than planned.

Unfortunately, my optimism was premature. Interference was about to come from an unexpected quarter.