Lissa was watching him, and the corners of her lips were curved slightly. He didn’t notice that
“You — saw — Ricky,” Shawn said with slow disbelief.
They took me, too. We were held at the same house. I got away. By the time I reached the police, Ricky had been moved, but the police are closer now than they’ve ever been. They’ll find him, if you do what you ought to.”
Shawn said very simply: “I would do anything in the world to find him. Anything in the world.”
Belle cried: “You saw Ricky!” It was as if she had only now realized the truth. Roger half turned as she rushed at him and flung her arms round his shoulders, thrusting her face very close to his. “You saw him, and — and he was all right. You swear he wasn’t hurt. Swear it!”
“He wasn’t hurt.”
“Swear it!”
“God help me, your son was not hurt, Mrs Shawn,” Roger said quietly. “I spoke to him. I spoke to his kidnapper. I was told they didn’t intend to hurt Ricky. They know that nothing is his fault, they’ve nothing against him.”
Belle dropped her arms; and the soft warmth of her moved away. She looked past him, at Shawn.
“David, did you — did you hear that?”
Shawn’s voice was choky with emotion.
“I knew he was all right, Belle, I was sure they wouldn’t hurt him.”
“Ricky’s not hurt,” she said in a distant voice. He’s all right, and — and this man’s seen him. Oh, David.”
She didn’t move towards him, her arms fluttered, then her hands went to her face, she buried her face in them and began to cry. Her shoulders heaved, but she stood still. Shawn went to her; he looked gigantic by her side. His arm went round her shoulders gently, and it was easy to think that he had for-gotten Roger and Lissa.
Lissa took Roger’s arm, and they moved away. On the landing they stopped, turned and looked back at the tableau; the strength of Shawn’s arm seemed to have stilled the heaving shoulders.
Lissa took her hand away from Roger’s, and they went downstairs together, out into the bright sunlight and then beneath the shade of trees between the house and the swim-ming-pooL Mosquitoes and flies hummed lazily. There were hammocks and a swing garden-seat. They sat down, Roger cautiously as pain twitched the muscles of his leg. He took out cigarettes which Sergeant Al had pressed on him.
“I wonder how long this new mood will last,” he said dryly.
“They need a shot of Roger West once every hour or so.” Lissa was still pale, as if the scene upstairs had really hurt her. “Belle can be so very sweet. It’s hard to believe, but she can. I wonder if this would have happened if David hadn’t been forced to leave her so much.”
“How long have you known her?”
“Oh, for years. I’ve worked with David for ten. She’s never turned on me quite like that before,” Lissa added, and looked rueful “She sounded so convincing.”
“She chose the wrong afternoon.” He laughed, but it wasn’t funny. “When did she first show signs of strain?”
Lissa considered. “A year ago, I suppose. She was always very temperamental, you would never have called her even-tempered. Nor David, for that matter.”
“And David has been a year on this special work that has to be done in England,” Roger said.
“Yes. Belle didn’t want him to go. I remember the scene when he told her that he was leaving. She had tried hard to make him refuse the assignment. I think I was astonished when he decided he had to take it on. God knows he didn’t want to. But he knew he was the most likely man to do the work. He hasn’t had it easy, Roger, and he put first things first. You have to know David and what has happened before you blame him for anything.”
Roger waved away mosquitoes.
“Gissing could have started working on Belle a year ago, if it is an espionage job.”
Lissa said slowly: “We always assumed that the trouble was because Belle missed David so much. Or at least didn’t want him away from her. Nothing’s ever suggested that Gissing started as soon as that.”
“Have you ever tried to talk to her about it?”
“No. These emotional outbursts didn’t really begin until Ricky was taken away. That is, they didn’t come into the open. We watched David closely, and there were accidents which might have been attempts on his life. Immediately we knew about the kidnapping, we saw the possibility that they were really planning to break David up, to bring him back here. And they have.”
The seat swung gently to and fro, and a soft breeze blew from the hills. It was very quiet and deceptively peaceful
They,” echoed Roger flatly. “Gissing and who?”
Lissa didn’t answer.
Roger stood up slowly, moved to a tree and leaned against the trunk, watching the wind play with Lissa’s hair, watching the repose of her face, the grace of her body. He had no other picture in his mind.
“All right,” he said. “When we find Gissing we might find who else is working with him. Or for whom he’s working. It’s time I got to work. Tony Marino said there might be a line on Gissing over here. Is there?”
“We thought so, but it didn’t get us anywhere. We will find Gissing, and we will need you when we do, but not before. It might be hours, days or weeks. Take it easy for a spell, Roger. It’s possible that things will be quieter here now, it’s a pleasant place to stay. But if you prefer, you could go back to New York. It doesn’t matter where you are, provided we can reach you quickly. I shall stay here unless Belle returns to that attack; if she does, then I shall tell Tony that I think I ought to leave. It will only make things worse for David.” She stopped, watching him closely, telling him that she was thinking of him as a man, not as a cypher in the search for Gissing; telling him everything he already knew, although no words had passed between them. “Roger.”
“Yes?”
“What’s in your mind?”
He stood away from the tree, and smiled. He considered, and then said deliberately:
“I hope I’m not away from home too long. My wife will find the time drags.” He watched her, and she made it clear that she knew exactly what he was saying, and would never try to make him wish that the words and the implications had not been made.
“Of course,” she said. “I understand.”
She smiled.
Roger lit a cigarette and looked across the swimming-pool to the hills beyond, the ranks of trees and the undulating parkland. A long way off a car was moving along a dirt road, and a cloud of dust rose up behind it.
“And I am also a detective,” he said huskily. “That is how I earn my living. Remember?”
“I remember.”
“Someone drugged David and Belle before the boy was kidnapped. Remember that, too? Who did it was never discovered. The drug might have been in cigarettes, in coffee, in anything they ate or drank. The last report I saw showed no traces of any drug in anything at the house in Wavertree Road, yet the cups and saucers were dirty, it looked as if everything had been left as the Shawns left it. It was a smart job. The dope was a barbiturate, almost certainly. It takes quick effect. They didn’t have it in the middle of the day, but quite late in the evening — say an hour or less, before they folded up. Ricky had been doped, earlier, probably with a smaller dose. Bill Sloan’s very good. His report said that as far as he could find out — he talked to you about it, I think — the only thing that the child and the parents all ate or drank was the milk. It might not have been in the milk, but that’s as likely as anything else.”
“Yes,” said Lissa. She was still relaxed; but her expression had changed, she looked at him intently, almost warily.
“Who could have doped the milk?” asked Roger. “We haven’t found that they had any visitors after you went. None of the neighbours noticed anyone. That’s not conclusive, but it is a reasonable indication. There was no talk of visitors coming after you’d left. Was there?”