Robert Goddard - Name To a Face

“I know, princess, I know,” Tozer began, jumping up and hurrying towards her, right arm curled as he advanced in preparation for a hug. “But we talked this through yesterday. You agreed then we’d regret getting the police involved.”

“Did I?” The hug engaged, but it was not reciprocated. Carol’s gaze met Harding’s over her husband’s shoulder. There was hurt and anger in her eyes, but also distrust, though distrust of whom he could not tell for certain.

“Come and sit down,” Tozer urged her.

“All right. Can you get me a coffee?”

“Sure. Coming up in the next bucket.”

Tozer bustled off to the kitchen. Carol advanced into the room. Harding stood up and moved across to her. He cleared his throat. “How’s it going?” he asked, his voice barely rising above a whisper.

“How d’you think?” she responded, at the same pitch, her eyes fixed on him.

“I don’t-”

“You’re going to go looking for her?”

He nodded affirmatively.

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“We can meet this afternoon, then. Barney’s going into the office.”

“That could be difficult. I have to see Luc. Sort a few things out.”

“Fort de la Revère. Three o’clock. Be there.”

“I’m not sure I can-”

“Be there.”

The car park in the shadow of the walls of the old fort of La Revère up on the ridge of the Grande Corniche was more or less halfway between Monte Carlo and Villefranche. Harding had often met Carol there when she could not spare the time to come to his apartment. Sometimes they had eaten a picnic lunch together, sitting on one of the nearby benches, gazing across at the village perché of Eze and drinking in with their wine the heady panorama of the Riviera coast. Sometimes they had strolled out along the footpath towards La Turbie and laughed at the queue-jumping antics of the drivers approaching the motorway toll station far below. Or sometimes they had simply sat in one of their cars and talked and kissed and held hands.

Their rendezvous that afternoon was different from any that had gone before. The air was clear and cold; the sea and sky were deep, dazzling shades of blue. All appeared much as it ever did. But something else, something invisible but instantly detectable, had altered. Harding sensed it as soon as he pulled into the car park and saw Carol waiting for him. She was leaning against the wing of her Alfa Romeo, smoking a cigarette, the collar of her fleece turned up against the chill. The outsize sunglasses she was wearing meant he could glean nothing from her gaze as she looked up. But there was no trace of a smile as she threw the cigarette to the ground, stubbed it out and moved in his direction.

Her coolness towards him had been evident that morning at the penthouse. She had recounted her ordeal at Hayley’s hands grimly and factually almost as if Harding were some stranger with a professional interest in the matter. Even Barney had appeared puzzled by her attitude. Harding had tried to tell himself she was overcompensating to repress any hint of their secret intimacy. But he had not been convinced. And now, as she opened the passenger door of his car and climbed in beside him, he was certain she held him in some form of suspicion.

There was a moment when they should have embraced and kissed. The moment passed. A shadow fell between them. Silence blossomed. Then she said, quietly and simply, “You slept with her.”

He did not know whether to be alarmed or relieved by the accusation. But he did know he could not deny it. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“You bastard.”

“Did she tell you?”

“Not in so many words.”

“But you talked to her?”

“Oh yes. While she held the knife to my throat. I begged her not to kill me. But it wasn’t the one-sided conversation I described this morning. She said quite a lot, actually. Some of it was about you. Mostly it was about Kerry.”

“You should have told me about Kerry yourself. Before I went to Penzance.”

“Maybe I should. Think I owe you an apology, do you?”

“No. I don’t think that.”

“Kerry was my friend as well as Hayley’s sister. I was devastated by the accident. I couldn’t believe it had happened. Kerry always seemed so… invulnerable. But you move on, don’t you? You have to. Like you and Polly. You put it behind you. Barney and I… helped each other. I didn’t go after him because of his money, despite what so many people seem eager to believe. He was fun to be with. Still is, when he is with me. But he leaves me alone too much, thanks to Tony bloody Whybrow and his round-the-world deal-making. And I get bored easily. As you know.”

“Is that what I’ve been for you, Carol-an antidote to boredom?”

“I suppose so.” She gave a brittle little laugh. “Sometimes I think the secrecy’s more thrilling than the sex.”

Harding sighed and turned to look directly at her. “Is there any chance you could take those sunglasses off?”

“Sure.” She plucked them from her nose. “Satisfied?” Her eyes were red and full. “I talk harder than I feel, Tim. As you should also know. But clearly don’t.”

“This morning, you said you’d never seen Hayley before. Was that true?”

“Yes. Why should I lie about it? At first, I had the crazy idea she was actually Kerry come back to life. Her voice. What I could see of her face. It would have been frightening even without the knife. Then I remembered the loopy twin. And it all made terrifying sense. But no. I’d never met Hayley before. Kerry barely mentioned her. How often she thought about her-or visited her in Brum-I don’t know. More than she let on, I expect. Twins are twins. You can’t imagine being one. And they can’t imagine not being.”

“What did she say to you?”

“That Barney murdered Kerry. That I must have been in on it. That we encouraged the clinic in Munich to let Kerry die. And made sure she wasn’t told about the accident until it was too late. You know. The full paranoid works. She’s a serious head case, if you want my opinion. All in all, a bad choice of partner for casual sex, I reckon, don’t you? High risk of nasty consequences. And I don’t mean a sexually transmitted disease.”

“You’re angry.”

“You bet I am.”

“I had no idea she-”

“You had no idea. I wouldn’t argue with that. You were only there for a few days, Tim. You’d agreed we’d meet after you got back. For Christ’s sake. Couldn’t you just have… kept your hands off her?”

“Maybe I would have… if you and I…”

“Loved each other. Oh, shit.” Carol put a hand to her face and briefly closed her eyes. “That’s what Hayley asked me. Did we-you and I-love each other? I mean, how could she know about us unless you told her? And why should she care anyway? Why should it matter to her?”

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth. It comes easily in situations like that, believe you me. And I have a horrible idea it’s what saved me. Because that’s when she said, ‘I can’t do this,’ and threw down the knife and ran out. So, maybe I should thank you. Maybe you saved my life by seducing a madwoman.”

“She isn’t mad, Carol.” It was strange, he fleetingly reflected, that he neither wished nor needed to be told unequivocally what answer Carol had given to Hayley’s question. “Just… mixed up.”

“Yeah? Well, she’s not the only one. What exactly have you and Barney and Tony cooked up between you? After I’d got over the shock, I wanted to put the police on to her. The trauma of losing her sister doesn’t excuse what she did to me in my book. But no. Suddenly we’re all softly-softly touchy-feely Barney’s an old-fashioned sort of guy. He should want to nail her arse. Instead, he’s falling over backwards to be reasonable, tolerant, understanding. Why?”