Good Morning, Midnight

11

Three times the phone rang in Cothersley Hall that night and three times Kay Kafka snatched it up almost before it had started ringing.

The first voice was American.

“Mrs Kafka?”

“Yes.”

“Good evening, Mrs Kafka. I’m hoping you may be able to help me. I was expecting to meet your husband Mr Tony Kafka off a flight from London, UK, earlier today, and he hasn’t showed. I wonder if there’s been some change of plan he hasn’t told anyone about.”

“Not that I know,” said Kay. “You work for Joe Proffitt, do you, Mr… I didn’t get your name?”

“Hackenburg. In a way, yes, I’m working with Mr Proffitt at the moment. So Mr Kafka isn’t there with you at the current time? If he were, I’d really appreciate it if he could come to the phone.”

“No, he’s not. What do you mean you’re working with Joe at the moment? Just who are you, Mr Hackenburg?”

“To be honest with you, Mrs Kafka, I work for the Securities and Exchange Commission. We’re looking into one or two apparent anomalies in the Ashur-Proffitt accounts at this present moment, and Mr Kafka’s name has been mentioned as someone who might be able to help us with our enquiries. So when we learned that he was expected to land here in the States today…”

“Mr Hackenburg, I’ve no idea where my husband is. I wish I did know. I’m putting the phone down now as I’m hoping to get a call either from Tony himself or the authorities, giving me information as to his whereabouts. Good night.”

She replaced the receiver.

Next time it rang, it was Andy Dalziel.

“Andy, you’ve heard something?”

“Sorry, luv, nowt. I’m just checking how you are.”

“I’m fine. Worried sick, but fine.”

“I know the feeling. Listen, Kay, it doesn’t look like Tony had an accident or anything, so we need to ask… well, was there any other reason he might just have decided to take off? Trouble at work, summat like that?”

“You mean has he headed for the hills because of this investigation into A-P that’s just hit the headlines? The answer’s no. I’m sure he knows nothing about what’s been going on back there. He’s been away from the centre of things so long… he’s been here, with me, because of me… that’s been the trouble.”

Dalziel said, “You OK, lass? You sound a bit upset. Shall I come round?”

A moment of silence, then Kay spoke again, her voice at its normal controlled pitch.

“Andy, if your lads heard you being so gallant, I think you’d have to resign. Thank you, but it’s truly not necessary. I’m fine. And I’m sure Tony is too. The next time the phone rings, it will probably be him.”

“Well, let me know if it is,” growled Dalziel. “And I’ll give him a big wet kiss when I see him, but only after I’ve kicked the bugger up the arse first for causing you so much grief.”

“That I would like to see,” said Kay. “Good night, Andy.”

She put the phone down and looked at her watch.

Time for bed. Routine is the best way through darkness. It doesn’t matter that you can’t see if you know your foot is going to hit solid familiar ground with every automatic step.

She stood up. The phone rang again. She snatched it up and sank back into her seat.

“Yes?”

“Mrs Kafka?” said a dry-edged voice.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“I’m a friend of your husband’s, Mrs Kafka.”

The voice was like dead leaves drifted across a pavement by a chilly wind.

“Where is he?”

“Don’t you know, Mrs Kafka? Let’s assume you don’t. He needs to be out of things for a little while. No doubt he’ll contact you when he can. But meanwhile he feels the best thing for you to do is nothing that might draw attention. Yes, that would be best.”

“Best for who? For Tony? For me? For you?”

“For all of those, Mrs Kafka. And for your stepdaughter and her family too, I daresay. They all depend so much on you, Mrs Kafka. Don’t let them down. Goodbye now.”

“Wait! I want to…”

But the phone was dead.

She dialled 1471. To her surprise she got a number. She pressed 3 to ring it back. After three rings a very English voice came on the line.

“Good evening. This is the Mastaba Club. I regret there is no one in attendance to take care of your call at this time. If you wish to leave a message for one of our members, speak after the tone and we will endeavour to pass it on at the earliest convenient opportunity. Thank you. Good evening.”

All kind of rudenesses came into her mind but she put the phone down before they found utterance. You do not make faces at wolves.

She stood up once more. There would be no more calls.

As she crossed the entrance hall towards the stairs, the American long-case clock began to strike midnight.

She went to it and opened the pendulum cupboard.

As the eleventh note sounded, she reached in and stopped the pendulum.

Then she went upstairs to bed.