“It’s me,” she said when the call was answered. “How’s our little guest behaving?”
Reynolds.
I felt Matt stiffen alongside me, felt him draw breath and hold it, trying to hear what was being said even though he knew he didn’t stand a chance.
“Good, let’s hope she stays that way,” Rosalind said now, giving the pair of us a cold straight look.
There was another burst of speech that might have been agitated, or it might just have been the quality of the speaker in the handset.
“Not much longer,” Rosalind said in reply, soothing. “Listen, I may need you to arrange another nice little auto accident for me-Charlie and the child’s father.” A smile. “Yes, I thought you might. By all means make it look that way I’ll bring them down to you shortly. Who?” The smile widened. “Oh, I’ve sent Sean Meyer and Greg off on a wild-goose chase. Divide and conquer. They won’t be any trouble.” The smile blinked out. “When Tm ready. Just you be ready to move the child. I’ve offered her to Felix Vaughan. Oh, you’ll still get paid. Don’t worry about that. Just make sure she’s ready to go in an hour.” And she ended the call. Clearly not one for long good-byes, Rosalind.
“Where is she?” The question fought its way past Matt’s clenched teeth, as though he’d been trying to force himself not to beg.
“Somewhere safe, nearby,” Rosalind said, putting the phone away, giving him a look that clearly said he wasn’t going to get any more than that out of her.
“I assume from that,” I said, “that you and the charming Mr. Reynolds were behind Barry O’Halloran’s crash.”
She nodded.
Frances Neagley would be relieved to find out the truth behind her partner’s death, I thought. If only I could be sure I was going to live long enough to tell her the news.
“What happened, Rosalind? You decided to get rid of him and then you found out about the money, was that it?”
“Something like that,” she agreed. “I thought it was too risky for Greg to meet with her, but I let him talk me into it-of course, I didn’t realize at the time why he was so keen on that.” She shook her head, almost crossly. “I wanted just to let Reynolds get in there and snatch the child from the start, keep us out of it, but Greg hightailed it down to Boston with his tongue hanging out. Couldn’t wait to bring her back up here and parade her in front of me.” She let her breath out fast, annoyed. “Maybe it would have been simpler all round if I’d gotten Reynolds to arrange an accident for Greg instead.”
“Very probably,” I said. I paused and only kept my voice neutral by sheer force of will. “You’re very patient, keeping Reynolds on when he bungled Ella’s kidnap first in Boston, and then again at the house. Must have been quite a shock for you when I caught him.”
“I told him to make sure he took care of you first,” she said, shaking her head. “He was lucky I managed to help him get loose while you were downstairs. Good thing Greg isn’t a soldier, or we’d never have gotten away with it right under his nose like that.” She allowed herself a small smile. “Reynolds sure wasn’t happy, though. You made yourself quite an enemy there.”
I matched my tone to hers and there was no warmth in any of it. “If Reynolds has something special planned for us, it’s going to be hard to make it look like just another accident.”
“Oh, you’d be amazed what can be covered up by a good strong fire,” she said.
“Sean will know.”
She smiled with every indication of amusement. “What makes you think he won’t be dead by then, too?”
Twenty-two
An hour goes by very slowly when you have nothing to do but sit and listen to every second of it pass and wait for an opportunity that never comes. I tried to tell myself that there would be a better chance, somewhere along the line, but that didn’t help Sean and Neagley now, on their way to Vaughan’s place out towards Bretton Woods. And it didn’t help Ella.
Rosalind was not a nervous waiter. She sat without impatience, without signs of anxiety, without apparent fatigue. She sat and watched us and kept the gun pointed in our direction firmly enough that there was no window.
Matt disintegrated visibly as time wore on. Somewhere around the thirty-minute mark he began to weep, quietly, into his hands. Whether for himself or his daughter I didn’t ask, but I’d prefer to think his tears were for Ella.
“What will you do with your husband?” I asked Rosalind. “Providing, of course, that Vaughan doesn’t kill him for you.”
She shrugged. “The truth about him is bound to come out now, one way or another,” she said. “If he had stayed away from Simone, well, who knows? But I assume you have people in England who’ve been digging out your information for you and I can’t silence them all.” Another shrug, indifferent. “He’s brought this on himself”
I nodded. “So now his usefulness is over.” I glanced at her impassive face. “You would have been happier, wouldn’t you, if I’d shot him that night in the forest?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “And you were so close, Charlie. So close. I saw what you could do on the range that day and I couldn’t
believe it when you didn’t take the shot.” Her lips twisted. “Very disappointing. I really thought you had it in you.”
“I wasn’t about to blow anyone’s brains out when he was so close to a child,” I said sharply. “She-”
And my voice deserted me as my brain stopped driving it, suddenly entirely diverted onto another track like it had swerved off a highway and gone crashing into an ice-cold river. My eyes flew to Rosalind’s and her smile widened.
“Well, well,” she murmured. “You finally got it. I was beginning to think I was going to have to come right out and say it.”
“It was you who shot me,” I whispered.
“That’s right,” she said, pride overlapping. “Must have been at least forty yards, in poor light, moving target. One heck of a piece of shooting, even if I do say so myself.”
“Not particularly,” I said. “After all, I’m not dead yet.”
Her satisfaction dimmed. “As good as,” she said, gesturing with the barrel of the Beretta. “Look at you, Charlie, all crocked up. What use are you to anyone? Didn’t the British Army teach you that old rule about it being better to wound an enemy soldier than to kill him?”
“Yes they did,” I said, remembering Sean telling me much the same thing as we left the hospital. My reply to him still stood. That only applies if the soldier cant fight, Rosalind. Give me half a chance and then see what I can still manage. ..
Matt had raised his blotchy face from his hands, confused. “But they said Simone shot you,” he said unsteadily, his eyes streaked with red. “That’s why the police killed her. She shot you.” His insistence was almost childlike. Say itisntso.
I shook my head, gently “Rosalind did it,” I said. I turned back to her. “How did you fool the ballistics people? The police told me the gun they found with Simone was a match.”
“She dropped it in the snow and they didn’t find it right away-what with the EMTs scrambling around working on you,” she said. “Did you know your heart stopped at the scene, by the way?”
I shook my head again. “No, I didn’t.” I gave her a tight little smile. “I suppose then, technically, you did kill me.”
She pulled a face. “So anyway, what with all the confusion, it wasn’t hard to get the gun I’d been using into Simone’s hand. All it needed was for you not to make it, and the whole thing would have been neat and tidy But, they called in the LifeFlight helicopter and flew you over to Lewiston and damn me if they didn’t put you back together again.”