Trasse pointed to a distant figure, sitting under a sun umbrella.
“There she is. Don’t blame me if you get thrown out. If she yells for help, I’ll be the one to do the throwing.”
“She won’t yell,” Hare said. “Put twenty bucks on your next expense sheet, Henry,” and tucking the brown paper parcel more firmly under his arm, he set off slowly across the sand towards where Val was sitting.
Val was feeling depressed. She had talked to Dr. Gustave on the telephone before coming down to the beach and he had said he had found Chris less well.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” he had assured her. “One must expect off days. He seems to have something on his mind. I think it would be a good idea if you came out here this afternoon. He might talk to you.”
Val said she would come.
“Be quite natural. Tell him what you have been doing,” Gustave went on. “Don’t ask questions. There’s a chance he might unburden to you.”
After this conversation, she had had to make an effort to go down to the beach, but now she was there, she was pleased. It was quiet, and she could relax a little in the warmth of the sun.
She glanced around and saw this enormous old man wearing a wrinkled white tropical suit and an ageing panama hat plodding towards her. She wondered who he was, and suddenly she realised he was heading her way. She looked quickly away. Opening her beach bag, she took out a pack of cigarettes.
The old man was very close to her now, and as she tapped out a cigarette, he said, “Allow me, madam.” He raised his hat with a little flourish and flicked a flame to the gold cigarette lighter he held in his enormous hand.
Val looked around.
“Thank you, but it is quite all right.”
As she was about to turn her back, her eyes fell on the lighter. She felt her heart skip a beat, making her catch her breath sharply.
“Sorry to have disturbed you, madam,” Hare wheezed. “An old man’s weakness. These days it seems chivalry is out of date.” He snapped the light shut while his beady little eyes watched Val’s reactions. He saw her hesitate, then he deliberately dropped the lighter into his pocket. He lifted his hat and then turned and began to move slowly away.
“Wait...” Val got to her feet. She was wearing pale blue beach pyjamas, and she looked slim and lovely as she moved out of the umbrella’s shade into the sunlight.
Hare paused. They faced each other.
“That lighter... I think I’ve seen it before,” Val said unsteadily. “May I see it?”
“Why certainly, madam,” Hare said. He came dose to her. She could feel the heat coming from his vast body and she could hear the wheezing of his breathing. “This lighter?” He took the lighter from his pocket, turned it so the inscription showing and held it out to her.
Val stared at the lighter, then she looked sharply at Hare.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “This belongs to my husband. Where did you get it from?”
Hare studied the lighter as if he had never seen it before, then he walked heavily to the shade of the umbrella. With a stifled grunt, he lowered himself down on the sand.
“It is some time since I have been on a beach,” he said, staring across the wide expanse of sand. “It’s very pleasant. My wife, who has been dead now for some years, used to be a beach lover.”
Val stared down at the top of the yellow Panama hat, her heart beating rapidly. There was something about this gross old man that frightened her.
“I asked you where you got that lighter,” she said in a tight, strained voice.
“The lighter? Oh, I found it.” Hare tilted his head so he could look up at her. “Won’t you sit down, madam?”
“Where did you find it?” Val demanded, not moving.
“So it belongs to your husband,” Hare said musingly. “How is he today?”
“Will you please tell me where you found it?”
“Dear madam, don’t be impatient with a feeble old man,” Hare said. “Do please sit down. You wouldn’t force such a heavy old fellow like myself to remain on his feet, would you?”
Val dropped on to her knees. She felt something bad was coming. She could tell by the sly, simpering smile and the beady staring eyes that this dreadful old man wouldn’t be hurried.
There was a long pause, then Hare said, “You are Mrs. Christopher Burnett?”
“Yes.”
“I understand your husband is in a sanatorium?”
Val’s hands turned into fists, but she managed to control herself to say, “Yes.”
“He disappeared from the hotel a couple of days ago and was found by two policemen?”
“All this was reported by the newspapers,” Val said. “What is it to you?”
Hare lifted a fistful of sand and let it run through his fat fingers.
“I don’t wonder that children love to play on a beach,” he said and chuckled. “Perhaps I’m getting senile. I wouldn’t mind having a bucket and spade right now.”
Val said nothing. She regarded him with growing horror.
“It seems Mr. Burnett had a blackout,” Hare continued after a long pause, “and he has no idea what he did during the night of the 18th.”
Val felt a cold shiver run down her spine. There now seemed no heat in the sun.
“This must be very worrying to you, madam,” Hare went on and gave his sly little smile. “Even when wives have normal husbands, they worry when they don’t know where they have been, but when they have abnormal husbands, the worry is even greater.”
Val said, “Just what do you want? I’m not going to listen to you much longer. What is it? Where did you get that lighter?”
Hare took from his billfold a newspaper Cutting.
“I would be glad if you would glance at this, madam,” he said, offering the cutting.
Val took it suspiciously. It was a brief account of the finding of Sue Parnell’s body at the Park Motel, Ojus with an interview with Police Chief Terrell who said it was obvious that the killer was a sexual sadist.
Val let the cutting flutter from her cold fingers.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
Hare took the lighter from his pocket.
“This lighter, belonging to your husband, was found by the murdered woman’s body... a woman savagely murder by a lunatic.”
He peered at Val and he was uneasily surprised to see that, the impact of his words had no apparent effect on her.
“Obviously my husband lost the lighter and this killer found it.”
“Charming to have such faith in an unstable mind,” Hare said more roughly than he intended. “I think the police would have other ideas.”
Val got to her feet.
“Then we will ask them. You are coming with me. We will see Captain Terrell and you will tell them what you are hinting at.”
“Mrs. Burnett, we mustn’t be impetuous,” Hare said, not moving. He tossed the lighter into the air, caught it and then put it in his pocket. “Your husband wore a sports jacket when he left the hotel. When he was found, the jacket was missing. Happily for you both, I found it.” With a quick movement, he got rid of the string around the brown paper parcel and produced the jacket. He spread it out on the sand. “These stains, madam, come from the ripped and murdered body of Sue Parnell!”
Val stood like a frozen statue, staring down at the coat she immediately recognised as the coat Chris had been wearing on the terrace, a few minutes before he had disappeared. She looked at the ugly rust coloured blotches that covered the front of the coat. She felt her knees sag and very slowly, she collapsed on to the hot sand.
Hare watched her with the false sadness of a mortician.
“I’m very sorry, madam,” he said gently. “Very, very sorry. It would seem that your poor husband ran into this unfortunate woman, and in a moment of complete madness, murdered her. This puts me in a very serious position... I...”