Apportionment of Blame (4 page)

“Then they sent the other note to my office to set the wheels in motion, and had two people wait till I came searching for the bench.”

“Why not just go to your office and get you there?”

I had wondered that, and considered reasons why they chose not to.

“Perhaps the person who wants me out of the way didn't want to risk doing anything in the office.”

“Surely it would have been easier to deal with you there, than in the open air with people watching.”

“There would have been at least a scuffle in the office, and the noise could have been heard downstairs. They wouldn't want to risk that.”

“But they were prepared to risk being seen in the garden.”

“It seems like it.”

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous, and Joyce obviously thought the same.

“Why go to such elaborate lengths to make a point?” she said.

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“If someone wants to threaten you, there must be more effective ways. Ways that don't involve obscure notes and kidnapping someone in broad daylight.”

“As I said yesterday, I don't think we are dealing with a gifted brain. Perhaps they tried too hard to be clever.”

I turned to look at Joyce.

“But the threat was effective, wasn't it? Even if it was the wrong person. It must have terrified you.”

“Yes,” she said. “It did.”

The train pulled into a station and we stopped talking, waiting to see if anyone would get into the compartment.

An elderly lady with a shopping trolley climbed in and went to the seat next to the doors. It took her a while to get the trolley where she wanted it, and she swayed a bit as the train began moving again. I was just about to go to her aid when she flopped into her seat, gave us a brief glance, and then turned to look out of the window.

“How do you think they knew it was me in the garden?” Joyce asked. “Or if they didn't, what did they expect to achieve?”

“I don't know. It seems that someone wants to frighten me off, or perhaps get rid of me completely.”

“What, kill you as well?”

The starkness of her comment brought me up short and I looked at the woman by the door, to see if she had overheard us. I realised I had not fully taken in the implications of what was happening.

“Well, it's possible,” I said slowly, not wanting to believe it.

“It is fairly well known that when a person has killed once, it's easier to kill again. And if they thought we were on their tracks, they could easily resort to desperate measures.”

Joyce looked up at me.

“What have I got you involved in? I never intended to endanger your life.”

“I know. But you suspected someone had caused Helen's death. And there was always the chance that uncovering the truth might be potentially dangerous.”

“I suppose,” she said and turned away in thought.

The train had picked up speed and the Essex countryside was streaming past the window again. It occurred to me that for a county so crowded and polluted, it is remarkable how much open space still remains.

“What do you think happened?” she asked eventually.

I dragged my thoughts back to the matter in hand.

“They knew where I was from the address on my card. It must have been one of my cards that told them that,” I suddenly realised. “How else could they know where to find me?

“But they needed me out in the open where they could operate more easily. So they concocted a note designed to flush me out of the office, and got a messenger to deliver it.”

“And you were supposed to work out what the note meant.”

“Yes, and I suppose I would have done in time. I've seen Friends House often enough, and walked past it without knowing what it was. The penny would have dropped eventually. But as it was, I phoned you and read the note out to you.”

“And I worked it out first.”

“So the people who were waiting must have had instructions to wait as long as necessary for the person who came to find the note.”

“It could have taken days.”

“Yes. Another flaw in a stupid plan. When you turned up, they assumed you must be who they wanted.”

“I can see what happened next. As soon as the person in charge found out I wasn't you, they scribbled a note, pinned it to my clothes and dumped me outside your office.”

“Then it didn't matter who you were. The point is, you weren't me, so they weren't interested, but took the opportunity to scare me a bit more. It could have been anybody in that garden, looking innocently at a note they had spotted under the bench. But they were prepared to use them to get to me.”

I thought that through. Did it make sense?

“If you think about it,” I considered, “they were lucky it was you. Anybody else would have gone screaming to the police about what had happened. As it was, it was you.”

“Mm,” she said, and it went quiet again.

“What are we going to do this morning?” Joyce asked eventually.

“We are going to sniff around the garden to see if we can find anything interesting. Then I want to go back there at about the time you were there yesterday, to see if the same person is sitting on that bench.”

We both fell quiet again for a few minutes.

“Do you really think someone is out to kill you?”

“I don't know. I hope not,” I said. “Perhaps they haven't worked out what they're going to do. But there's little doubt that my questions have scared them into action of some sort. They are definitely trying to frighten me off.”

The train stopped again and a number of people joined us in the compartment.

“I think we'd better wait till later to discuss this further. There are too many other ears in here now.”

Liverpool Street station was enjoying its mid-morning lull when we finally arrived. I took her bag as it looked rather heavy, and we crossed the forecourt to W.H. Smith's to buy a newspaper, then made our way down into the Underground entrance to find the Circle Line platform.

Emerging eventually from Euston Square station, we turned left, then left again and walked down the street that brought us behind Friends House and its garden. I could see there were cars parked along the roadside, so it would have been relatively easy to bundle someone out of the garden and into a waiting vehicle.

“I don't suppose you saw where the car went?” I asked Joyce.

“No. I'm sorry. The gagging and blindfolding were very effective.”

I stood and looked both ways along the street, trying to gauge which direction was most likely.

“If they had a car or something ready, it would probably be on this side of the street, nearest to the garden exit. That means they would be facing east and most likely drove off in that direction.”

I looked that way and could see a busy road crossing at the far end.

“We'll go and look further down the street in a minute. Let's just look around the garden first.”

The grey skies of earlier were still with us and it was threatening rain. These were not the conditions to encourage people to sit in gardens, and there was no one there at all. So we returned to the roadside and made our way along to the end of the street.

Here the traffic was busy and I could see it would have been difficult to turn right. Looking left I could see the traffic lights on the corner of Euston Road, and then the road continuing northwards alongside the station.

We walked up to the corner and then crossed Euston Road and made our way to the office across the station entrance area. On the way we called at a stall for some Cornish pasties and orange juice to have for lunch.

The street outside the office was quite busy. Local Indian restaurants were popular with those seeking a low cost, but filling meal.

We climbed the stairs, and as I pushed the office door open I could hear the sound of paper scraping on the floor. Another note.

“Here we go again,” I said, bending to pick it up.

It bore a similar series of capital letters cut from newsprint.

‘LEAVE IT OR ELSE', it said.

“Look,” I said, giving it to Joyce.

She read it, glanced up at me and I shrugged. There had been no one suspicious outside, no visible sign of anyone following or looking for us.

“This note could have been here for hours. Possibly even since last night.”

I closed the door, gave Joyce back her briefcase and put the new note next to the other two which were still lying on the desk. We stood looking down at them.

“Come on, let's eat these pasties while they're still warm.”

We settled back into the chairs we had used the previous evening and ate our pasties, all the time glancing over at the notes, hoping that inspiration would arrive. If everything was going to be as difficult as this, it was looking as if I'd made the wrong career choice.

“Let's go over again exactly what happened to Helen,” I suggested.

I could see Joyce's expression change as I said it.

“I know you won't want to, but we need to see if there's anything we've missed.”

“She'd gone out after work. No one knew where. The police found her car in the lane leading down to the level crossing. The couple in the crossing house had called them.”

“You said no one knew where she had gone?”

“That's right. Mum said she had gone to work in the morning as usual and had the afternoon off. She said Helen told her she wouldn't be too late back.”

“Did she know anyone in that area?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Where does the track lead, once you've crossed the railway?”

“I don't know. I think it makes its way back to the main road. There are a few houses at the other end I think, but if you were going to one of them, surely you wouldn't approach from where Helen was?”

“No. That means she was either meeting someone there, or perhaps she had met someone who lived in one the houses.”

“It's a funny, remote place to meet someone.”

“I agree. So that leaves the houses. I shall have to go out there again and talk to people. See if I can pick up any hints that might lead us in the right direction.”

I savoured my pasty as my thoughts moved on.

“What about yesterday? I phoned you at about two o'clock.”

“Yes. I left soon after and caught the first train that came. It wasn't a fast one, but it got me in town as soon as possible.”

“Then?”

“I left the tube at Kings Cross and walked along the south side of Euston Road, till I reached the garden.”

“When you got there, did anything look odd? Anything out of place? Anybody loitering suspiciously?”

Joyce thought for a minute.

“I can't recall seeing anything or anybody suspicious. But I wasn't looking at things like that. I was intent on finding the note.

“I walked up the entrance area and looked straight down towards the magnolia tree. That's why I was there. I was sure I was in the right place.”

“Go on.”

“I remember seeing a person on the bench next to the steps, but I didn't really look that way. I made straight for the bench.”

“And the two men came from where?”

“I don't know. One minute they were not there, the next minute they were, and they had me.”

“So they took you out of the garden and put you into a car?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of car?”

“I couldn't see its colour. I was blindfolded.”

I smiled.

“What?”

“I didn't mean the colour, I meant the make.”

“Well I couldn't see that either, could I?”

“I know. But could you tell if it was a big car or a small car? Did you have to dip your head to get inside?”

“No. That's interesting. It must have been quite tall. I had to step up to get inside.”

“And what did the engine sound like? Powerful?”

“Yes, now you come to mention it.”

“OK. That's good. They had a tall powerful car waiting at the kerb.”

I shuffled the notes round on the desk top as I thought.

“They dropped you here at just after half past four. What time did your train get in?”

“I caught the 2.35, which takes about an hour.”

She looked at me, clearly wondering where these questions were going.

“Go on. I'm trying to establish when you reached the garden.”

“I was in the underground for about fifteen minutes, and the walk up the road would have taken about ten. That means it must have been about four o'clock.”