CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Will someone
please tell me what the hell is going on?” Pip demanded, looking anxiously from
Carol Brady to Fred Winter and then again to Carol. The detective’s sharp,
penetrative gaze was unnerving her. Carol, too, looked wary. Pip smiled weakly,
duly provided a few tears, and Carol was soon giving her a hug and oozing
sympathy.
Pip was
pleased her guess had proven correct. For a while she had sat in a taxi near
Carol Brady’s flat in Camden Town wondering what to do next. She had seen Nina
flee the house and drive away. Should
she follow? She decided against it,
fairly sure where Nina would be heading. First, she needed to find out exactly
what Nina had been telling Carol. She hadn’t been very surprised either to find
Fred Winter at the flat in the early hours of the morning. It had crossed her
mind several times that the two were more than just friends. At their age too, she contemplated
derisively and hoped the giggle she couldn’t swallow would pass for an
expression of frayed nerves.
Satisfied
that Nina hadn’t told them much and pretty sure they wouldn’t call the police,
at least not yet a while, Pip was wondering what was expected of her now when
her mobile phone rang. Surprised and not a little irritated at first, she
glanced at the screen and did not recognize the number. The glimmer of an idea
came to her. Only fleetingly did she consider the possible consequences.
Glancing apologetically at Carol and a dour looking Fred Winter, she listened
to an unknown male voice asking for a taxi to pick him up at an address in
Pimlico.
“Did you
get that? Can you get here as quickly as possible please? Are you deaf or
something?” the caller was getting impatient.
“I see,” said Pip, “Yes, I’ll come over straight away. No, it’s no
trouble. Yes. I’m sure, and thank you for letting me know.” She paused but a
fraction before crying, “Max, wait. How did you know…? Oh, I see, of course.
Goodbye.”
“What the f**k…?” demanded the voice. But Pip had already switched off
the phone. She stared into space for a few moments as if unaware she was in
company before draining the remaining brandy in her glass, and then looked
directly at Fred Winter. “That was Max. He’s at the apartment. Nina’s just got
back, but according to him she’s hysterical. He says she keeps asking for me.”
“But how could he…?” Carol began,
but was restrained from continuing by a glare from Winter.
Pip caught the exchange and began to panic. “Could I possibly have
another brandy please?” she asked plaintively, and then to Winter, “Can you
call me a cab? I must get there right away,” accepting another brandy, knocking
it back in several long swigs and spluttering all over the carpet. “I’m sorry,
I…I’m not myself…I…” Carol came and gave her a big hug. “Why didn’t she wait
for me? Oh, but that’s Nina all over, unpredictable at the best of times.” At
the same time, she gave what she hoped would be seen as a despairing shrug that
allowed her to slip out of Carol’s comforting embrace. It had occurred to her
that she was already feeling too relaxed and dare not let herself be caught off
guard.
“I’ll drive you myself,” Winter offered, but Pip shook her head.
“Thank you, but I’d rather get a cab if you don’t mind. You’ll only…”
“Get in the way, Freddy,” Carol finished the sentence for her and all
three tittered unconvincingly.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like one of us to
come with you?” Carol asked in a
concerned, motherly tone of voice while Winter called for a taxi.
Pip shook her head and contrived a grateful but determined smile. That
wouldn’t do at all. At least they would now think Max was still alive. Nor
was that a lie either, she was sure of it. Nina must have panicked. It was easy
enough to miss someone’s pulse. Well, wasn’t it? Max is
alive, she kept telling herself. At the same time, she suspected she was losing
the plot as the taxi headed for East London. “Bow Road,” she told the driver
for she was certain Nina had gone to see her father. Where else would she go
in the middle of the night?
Suddenly, Pip’s heart missed a beat. How could she have forgotten about
Colin Fox? Had Nina, too, remembered and
returned to Chelsea in the hope of finding him at the flat? But she quickly dismissed that idea. Colin doesn’t have a key. Besides, she
knew Nina too well. The actress had confided how she had already met up with
Alistair Fox a couple of times and their reunion hadn’t gone half as badly as
expected. Pip could tell Nina was ready to forgive and forget, not least
because her father was on hand and her brother wasn’t. Nor had Nina been
enthusiastic about her brother’s impending visit. “Colin doesn’t care about me
or daddy,” she had complained peevishly, “He just wants to interfere. He loves
nothing better than to mess with other people’s lives, especially mine” No, at
this moment in time, the star of April Showers would be with her father.
Pip was willing to bet on it. Was it true, she wondered, vaguely, that the show
was in trouble? Nina had hinted as much.
“Drop me here please,” Pip told the driver and paid him. Not for the
first time, she thanked her lucky stars
that Nina had made her a generous allowance since her father had been made
bankrupt by legal fees, mortgage arrears and other debts. He had only been able
to keep number 22 because it had belonged to her mother and would pass to
herself once she turned eighteen. Pip frowned. What would happen to her
allowance if they pulled the plug on April Showers? She shrugged. There was always university to
look forward to…
Pip yawned and glanced at her watch. It was 4.00am. She would be almost
as glad to grab some sleep as she was looking forward to meeting Alistair Fox
for the first time.
It was Nina who opened the door a few minutes later, scantily dressed and
looking very pale. “Pip, it’s you!”
“Who were you expecting, the police?” This unsettled Nina completely. She
turned a shade even paler and was lost for words. “Can I come in?”
“Of course,” Nina stammered, finding her voice at last.
“Who is it?” a man’s voice called out. Seconds later, a bleary-eyed
Alistair Fox appeared and gave Pip a long, disapproving glare.
“This is Pip. You know...Pip? I’ve
told you all about her. She’s…”
“Your killer boyfriend’s brat, if I’m not mistaken?” Nina look
nonplussed.
“That’s right,” said Pip and yawned again, “and right now I could use
some sleep.
“You’ll find no bed here.”
“Some floor space will do fine. Oh, and if you can spare a blanket, too,
so much the better.”
“Pip and I can share your bed, daddy,” declared Nina, “and you can take
the chair.”
“I’m too old for sleeping in chairs,” Alistair Fox grumbled.
“And I’m too tired to argue,” Nina snapped back at him, “Come through,
Pip. You look as exhausted as I feel. Are you hungry? Can I get you something
to eat or drink?” Pip shook her head.
Alistair Fox made no further protest, but watched them disappear into the
bedroom and then went in search of a supermarket whiskey he remembered leaving
in the kitchen. Settling into the armchair Nina had recently vacated, he took
several long swigs from the bottle before pulling the blanket to his chin and
falling soundly asleep.
Pip, too, fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Nina lay
and listened to the girl’s steady breathing. She hadn’t been as surprised as
she’d made out to find Pip at the door.
While she was fond enough of the girl, there were times when she felt
almost stalked by her. But now, Nina told herself sharply, she was being
foolish. She tried to sleep. But sleep did not come for a long, tortuous while
since each time she closed her eyes she saw the bloodied face of Max Cutler
lying (Dead, surely?) at number 22 Waterfield Road.
Only seconds before a restless sleep finally took her, Nina decided that
she would call Fred Winter first thing in the morning. The decision opened up a
cosy niche in her mind that offered shelter and some reassurance if not the place
of ultimate safety or peace of mind she sought. Thankfully, she crept into it.
Nina rose early the next day, while the others continued to sleep on
soundly. She set about preparing breakfast for all three. Several times she
went to call Fred Winter on the mobile. On each occasion, for no obvious
reason, she changed her mind. I really must call him, she kept telling
herself. She needed help, didn’t she, advice at the very least? So who else can I turn to? Yet, still she did not make the call.
A long, tiresome hour passed before she finally spoke to the detective and
agreed to meet him in Canterbury at 5.00 pm that same day. She glanced at her
watch. There was plenty of time. Much as she disliked driving, it was better
that she should drive down to Kent rather than have Fred return to London on
her account. In the back of her mind, she toyed with the thought that he might
accompany her to number 22 Waterfield Road, but a conscious nausea refused to
let the notion surface. But I have to know for sure, don’t I? Ignoring
the question or, rather, putting it on hold, she confided her intention to Pip.
“I’m coming with you,” Pip declared. Nina shook her head, surprised. She
had expected Pip to raise objections “It’s a school day,” she reminded the
girl.
“It’s a bit late for that now,” Pip retorted and repeated her intention
to accompany Nina to Canterbury. “No one at school will mind,” she fibbed with
convincing nonchalance, “Not at this time of year, they won’t. Everyone’s
taking time off to revise for exams. Besides,” she added with a wicked grin,
“We girls need to stick together, right? Who knows? We might need an alibi
sooner than we think…”
Nina managed a weak smile, turned away and proceeded to busy herself with
washing up the breakfast things. There were times, she mused for the umpteenth
time - part of her amused, the greater part resentful - when it was all but
impossible to remember that Pip would not be eighteen for a few weeks yet. “Seventeen, going on forty-something,” she
muttered inaudibly, resolving there and then that, whatever Pip might say, she
would drive to Canterbury on her own. On the other hand, she was forced to
admit, the girl might well have a point about needing an alibi. “Damn!” Nina
swore as she dropped a flower-patterned plate and watched it shatter on the
cheap linoleum floor. “I’m sorry,” she apologized to her father who had just
entered the tiny kitchen. But Alistair Fox merely grunted, turned round and
walked away. She was still on her hands and knees brushing the pieces into a
dustpan when Pip’s voice promptly caused all annoyance and confusion to rise to
panic proportions on the spot.
“So what do we do about your brother, Colin, just forget about him?”
“Colin? Oh, my God…!” Nina wailed, “I forgot all about him. He’ll have
been expecting me to meet him at the airport!”
“He’ll have probably found a hotel for the night. Call him on your mobile
and see,” Pip suggested.
Nina shook her head. “I don’t have a mobile number for Colin. I’m not
even sure he has a mobile.
“Then
we’ll just have to go back to Chelsea and see if he’s left a message on the
land line. We have plenty of time.”
“I
suppose so…” Nina glanced anxiously at her watch. Pip was right, there was
plenty of time to head back to Chelsea and still be in Canterbury by 5.00 pm.
“If there’s a problem, Mr Winter will just have to come to London. Mohammad and the mountain ‘n’ all that,” said
Pip.
Nina frowned. Suddenly it had become more important than ever that she
should return to number 22...but with Fred Winter, not with Pip. Not with Pip, not with Pip, not with Pip.
Why? It wasn’t as if she believed Pip could have killed Max…or was it? But
that’s ridiculous. Pip is little more than a child, for heaven’s sake. So
why was she shaking?
“Are you alright Nina? You’re not ill are you?”
It seemed to Nina that Pip’s voice, far from sounding concerned, had a
razor’s edge to it. It’s just my
imagination, surely? “It’s probably a bug or something. I dare say it will
pass.” She went into the bedroom where her father lay sprawled on the bed
asleep, snoring loudly. Nina scribbled a note, left it on a small table beside
the bed and returned to Pip. “We had better get a move on or poor Colin will be
frantic.”
In the event, it took much longer to reach Chelsea than either Nina or
Pip had anticipated thanks to a combination of road works, disabled traffic
lights and a burst water main. As they entered the apartment they heard voices.
Nina froze. Close behind her, Pip whispered, “Who can it be? Burglars, do you
think?”
Recognizing her brother’s voice, Nina burst out laughing from sheer
relief and moved forward with greater confidence. At the same time, she was
already asking herself how Colin had gained access to the apartment. Relief
began to give way to anger. It was in something of a confrontational frame of
mind, therefore, that she faced her brother across the rich expanse of carpet.
“Hello Colin.”
“Nina! Where have you been? I’ve been so worried about you…” Colin Fox
moved forward to greet his sister warmly but Nina’s eyes were already fixed on
his companion. A sharp intake of breath close behind told her that Pip too had
recognized the tall balding man with a moustache.
“Shall I go and make some tea?” Pip offered.
“Tea would be nice,” said Nina.
“Coffee for me…strong, black, one sugar and instant will be fine,” said
the tall man with a queer smile that was impossible to interpret.
“Tea…milk, no sugar, Colin Fox mumbled then, “Oh, I’m sorry. This is
Steve Williams,” he turned to his companion, “Steve, this is my sister Nina and
her…err…”
“I’m Pip,” stepping forward, hand outstretched.
“Pleased to meet you,” Williams shook hands with both women.
Nina winced involuntarily. The man’s handshake was limp and damp with
sweat. She mistrusted it just as she mistrusted its smiling owner. Why was he
here? What business could he possibly have with her brother? It required as
supreme an effort to say nothing - for now at least - as it took to resist
wiping her own palm on the stylish trousers she wore.
Pip left the room without another word, conscious of voices in her ears
but hardly aware of what they were saying…
“So
where has Colin been hiding you, Mr Williams?
He’s certainly never mentioned you before.”
“Hiding, Miss Fox? Why, nowhere. Your
brother and I are merely business associates. And who wants to discuss business
with a beautiful woman even if she’s your sister?”
“Shall we sit down?” suggested Colin Fox uncomfortably.
Pip was glad to escape to the kitchen, shut the others out and let her
thoughts run free. What was going on? Who
is this Steve Williams and what’s he doing here of all places? Her heart
missed a beat. Did he realize she and Nina had followed him from Whitstable? If
so, how had he known to come to the apartment and what was his connection with
Colin Fox? She frowned. If the two men were “merely business associates” she
was the Queen of Sheba. Had he recognized Nina in the car? What is he doing
here? What does he want? The door opened and closed behind her. She swung
round to find herself face to face with the very subject of her thoughts…and
dropped a cup. It smashed to the floor
but neither took their eyes off the other.
“You father sends his regards.”
“You know my father?”
“Oh yes, very well. You have plenty of time to get close to people in
prison.”
“Prison, eh?” Pip bit her lip and tried to act nonchalant. “So how come
he’s never mentioned you or I’ve never seen you when I visit?”
“I never had any visitors. Those that do, well…” He shrugged, “the last
thing you want to talk about to folks on the outside is how it is inside.”
“I dare say,” Pip acknowledged coolly, wishing he would go away.
Something about the man frightened her.
Fear was an emotion to which she wasn’t accustomed and she didn’t like
it one bit.
“Your daddy thinks the world of you. Now I can see why. You’re almost
pretty. Not quite, but almost. I like that. My guess is you’ll blossom in a
year or so.” He came closer. Pip pressed her back against the rim of the sink.
The electric kettle began to boil. He reached out a flabby hand and touched her
hair. Pip recoiled and moved away but did not take her eyes off the smiling
face. The kettle turned itself off with a sharp click.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Pip flashed angrily, “Sorry, and all that, but
you’re not my type.”
“Too old for you am I? Oh, a pity,
that. After the way your daddy used to go on and on about you...Well, I
couldn’t wait to meet you, could I? So
let’s be friends, eh, Pip? I’ll be honest with you. You’re a girl after my own
heart…you murdering little bitch,” he added unexpectedly and chuckled. It was
not a pleasant sound.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Pip protested although not as strongly as
she intended.
“Oh, I think you do young lady. I think you know exactly what I mean. But
you don’t have to worry. Your daddy has a blind spot for his precious
butter-wouldn’t-melt little girl. Too damn right he has. But we know better,
don’t we, you and I?”
“You’re mad.”
“Tell that to Ray Bannister’s family.” He laughed, another ugly sound,
“But don’t worry, your daddy doesn’t suspect a thing.”
“So what are you trying to say?” demanded Pip, feeling nauseous all of a
sudden.
“You don’t remember me, do you? There’s no reason why you should. But I
was there, you see. I was there the night your house burned down. I saw your
face as you watched your mother and little brother burn to death. I’ve never
forgotten it. That little madam is pure evil, I told myself…pure evil. Then
when your daddy told me how he found you, oh, so distressed after finding poor
Ray murdered… well, I got to thinking didn’t I? ” He approached the terrified
girl again. His face wore the same queer smile as he stroked her cheek with one
finger.
Pip froze for an instant, and then fled the room.
