Name To a Face

TWENTY-THREE

The car park in the shadow of the walls of the old fort of La Revère up on the ridge of the Grande Corniche was more or less halfway between Monte Carlo and Villefranche. Harding had often met Carol there when she could not spare the time to come to his apartment. Sometimes they had eaten a picnic lunch together, sitting on one of the nearby benches, gazing across at the village perché of Eze and drinking in with their wine the heady panorama of the Riviera coast. Sometimes they had strolled out along the footpath towards La Turbie and laughed at the queue-jumping antics of the drivers approaching the motorway toll station far below. Or sometimes they had simply sat in one of their cars and talked and kissed and held hands.

Their rendezvous that afternoon was different from any that had gone before. The air was clear and cold; the sea and sky were deep, dazzling shades of blue. All appeared much as it ever did. But something else, something invisible but instantly detectable, had altered. Harding sensed it as soon as he pulled into the car park and saw Carol waiting for him. She was leaning against the wing of her Alfa Romeo, smoking a cigarette, the collar of her fleece turned up against the chill. The outsize sunglasses she was wearing meant he could glean nothing from her gaze as she looked up. But there was no trace of a smile as she threw the cigarette to the ground, stubbed it out and moved in his direction.

Her coolness towards him had been evident that morning at the penthouse. She had recounted her ordeal at Hayley’s hands grimly and factually almost as if Harding were some stranger with a professional interest in the matter. Even Barney had appeared puzzled by her attitude. Harding had tried to tell himself she was overcompensating to repress any hint of their secret intimacy. But he had not been convinced. And now, as she opened the passenger door of his car and climbed in beside him, he was certain she held him in some form of suspicion.

There was a moment when they should have embraced and kissed. The moment passed. A shadow fell between them. Silence blossomed. Then she said, quietly and simply, “You slept with her.”

He did not know whether to be alarmed or relieved by the accusation. But he did know he could not deny it. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“You bastard.”

“Did she tell you?”

“Not in so many words.”

“But you talked to her?”

“Oh yes. While she held the knife to my throat. I begged her not to kill me. But it wasn’t the one-sided conversation I described this morning. She said quite a lot, actually. Some of it was about you. Mostly it was about Kerry.”

“You should have told me about Kerry yourself. Before I went to Penzance.”

“Maybe I should. Think I owe you an apology, do you?”

“No. I don’t think that.”

“Kerry was my friend as well as Hayley’s sister. I was devastated by the accident. I couldn’t believe it had happened. Kerry always seemed so… invulnerable. But you move on, don’t you? You have to. Like you and Polly. You put it behind you. Barney and I… helped each other. I didn’t go after him because of his money, despite what so many people seem eager to believe. He was fun to be with. Still is, when he is with me. But he leaves me alone too much, thanks to Tony bloody Whybrow and his round-the-world deal-making. And I get bored easily. As you know.”

“Is that what I’ve been for you, Carol-an antidote to boredom?”

“I suppose so.” She gave a brittle little laugh. “Sometimes I think the secrecy’s more thrilling than the sex.”

Harding sighed and turned to look directly at her. “Is there any chance you could take those sunglasses off?”

“Sure.” She plucked them from her nose. “Satisfied?” Her eyes were red and full. “I talk harder than I feel, Tim. As you should also know. But clearly don’t.”

“This morning, you said you’d never seen Hayley before. Was that true?”

“Yes. Why should I lie about it? At first, I had the crazy idea she was actually Kerry come back to life. Her voice. What I could see of her face. It would have been frightening even without the knife. Then I remembered the loopy twin. And it all made terrifying sense. But no. I’d never met Hayley before. Kerry barely mentioned her. How often she thought about her-or visited her in Brum-I don’t know. More than she let on, I expect. Twins are twins. You can’t imagine being one. And they can’t imagine not being.”

“What did she say to you?”

“That Barney murdered Kerry. That I must have been in on it. That we encouraged the clinic in Munich to let Kerry die. And made sure she wasn’t told about the accident until it was too late. You know. The full paranoid works. She’s a serious head case, if you want my opinion. All in all, a bad choice of partner for casual sex, I reckon, don’t you? High risk of nasty consequences. And I don’t mean a sexually transmitted disease.”

“You’re angry.”

“You bet I am.”

“I had no idea she-”

“You had no idea. I wouldn’t argue with that. You were only there for a few days, Tim. You’d agreed we’d meet after you got back. For Christ’s sake. Couldn’t you just have… kept your hands off her?”

“Maybe I would have… if you and I…”

“Loved each other. Oh, shit.” Carol put a hand to her face and briefly closed her eyes. “That’s what Hayley asked me. Did we-you and I-love each other? I mean, how could she know about us unless you told her? And why should she care anyway? Why should it matter to her?”

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth. It comes easily in situations like that, believe you me. And I have a horrible idea it’s what saved me. Because that’s when she said, ‘I can’t do this,’ and threw down the knife and ran out. So, maybe I should thank you. Maybe you saved my life by seducing a madwoman.”

“She isn’t mad, Carol.” It was strange, he fleetingly reflected, that he neither wished nor needed to be told unequivocally what answer Carol had given to Hayley’s question. “Just… mixed up.”

“Yeah? Well, she’s not the only one. What exactly have you and Barney and Tony cooked up between you? After I’d got over the shock, I wanted to put the police on to her. The trauma of losing her sister doesn’t excuse what she did to me in my book. But no. Suddenly we’re all softly-softly touchy-feely Barney’s an old-fashioned sort of guy. He should want to nail her arse. Instead, he’s falling over backwards to be reasonable, tolerant, understanding. Why?”

“Tony’s persuaded him Hayley’s arrest and trial would be bad for business.”

“You believe that?”

“Why not? Business is Tony’s number one, two and three priority.”

“What’s your excuse, then? Why are you running after her at their say-so?”

“I feel… partly responsible… for what happened to you.”

“So you should. But that can’t be all there is to it.”

“No. It isn’t.” The moment had come. She had to know. The hold Whybrow had over him could equally well be exerted over her.

Harding avoided Carol’s gaze as he told her about the tape of her phone message to him and how it had come into Whybrow’s possession. He spoke slowly and calmly willing her to understand the intractability of their position. Their affair might be over. But it was not over with.

“I didn’t tell Hayley about us, Carol. I didn’t need to. She already knew. And now Tony knows as well. I have no choice but to go after her. Otherwise…”

“Jesus,” said Carol softly. She lit a cigarette with trembling hands and wound down the window. “This puts Tony in control. Of you and me.”

“You could always… confess to Barney. Tony wouldn’t have any control then. Over either of us.”

“I can’t do that. I’d lose everything.”

“I’d lose quite a lot myself. But maybe it would be worth it.”

“Barney would tear you limb from limb.” She looked at him, eyes wide, nodding to confirm her seriousness. “And me.”

“I’d better do as Tony says, then, hadn’t I?”

“Yeah. But it won’t stop even if you nab Hayley and lock her away in a Swiss funny farm. Once Tony gets his claws into someone, he never lets go. Not that I believe for a minute you intend to hand Hayley over to the men in white coats if you do track her down.”

“No?”

“No. You’re half in love with her, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you-”

“Maybe more than half. Don’t deny it, Tim. There’s no point.”

He looked at Carol for a long, silent moment, then said, “To be honest, I don’t really know what I feel about her. I suppose that’s another reason why I need to find her.”

“You’d better find something else while you’re about it, then. Something we can use to shake off Tony.”

“What sort of something do you have in mind?”

“The truth.” She let the ambiguity as well as the significance of her answer sink in before continuing. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe the real reason Barney and Tony want to hush up what happened on Wednesday night is that Hayley’s right: Kerry was murdered.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I? I’ll tell you this. Kerry was on the scent of a big story in the weeks before the accident. She never breathed a word to me about it, but she dashed up to London for a couple of days and she was making lots of phone calls before and after that to someone called Shep. Short for Shepherd. I’d heard her mention him before. Some old journalist, long retired. Sort of a mentor.”

“What were the calls about?”

“Dunno. She’d get choosy with her words and ring off if I came into the room in the middle of one. Besides, whatever Kerry thought, I wasn’t interested. She was always chasing a story of some kind. I had the sense this was bigger than most, but…” She shrugged. “I’ve only thought about it since. Mostly over the last thirty-six hours.”

“Where could I find this… Shep?”

“No idea. But I can give you a lead to someone who might know. Hayley mentioned him. She said she knew about his deal with Barney. It was her instant response when I tried to convince her Kerry hadn’t been murdered. I can still hear her voice, hissing in my ear. ‘Save it,’ she said. ‘I know all about Barney’s deal with Nathan.’”

“Nathan?”

“One of Kerry’s old boyfriends. I met him a few times. Bit of a hunk. But way too bland for Kerry.”

“Nathan Gashry”

Carol frowned. “How’d you know his surname?”

“I met his sister in London. Ann Gashry. Neighbour and friend of the Foxtons.”

“Well, well. She’s who I’d have suggested you ask where Nathan hangs out these days.”

“Oh, I’ll ask her. You can be sure of that. But Barney denied all knowledge of them only this morning.”

“Then either he’s lying or Hayley is. And she sounded sincere enough to me.”

“What would the deal be?”

“Who knows? I’ll do some digging this end. Find out as much as I can. It won’t be easy. I’ve never shown the slightest interest in Starburst business. Barney’ll think it odd if I start quizzing him.”

“You’ve genuinely never had any doubts about the accident before?”

“No. Why should I?”

“I don’t know. But you weren’t planning to tell me any of this today, were you? You’ve only opened up now because you’re worried about Tony having a hold on you.”

“Do you blame me? I thought you’d sold out.”

“Are you happier now you know I’m actually being blackmailed?”

“We’re being blackmailed, you mean.”

“Yes. That is what I mean. But what if we weren’t, Carol? What if you could just wash your hands of this thing we had going? Would you do any digging then? Or would you just let the doubts die-and the questions go unanswered?”

“Do you know the biggest difference between us, Tim?” she countered. “I’m a realist and you’re not.” She inhaled deeply from her cigarette and flicked a quarter-inch of ash out through the window. “The dead are dead. You can’t bring them back. And you can’t avoid joining them sooner or later. In the meantime, what’s there to do but try to enjoy yourself? So, would I be rocking the boat if I weren’t afraid someone might be about to throw me out of it? No. Marriage to Barney has given me the kind of life I could only have dreamt of. I’d be willing to make a lot of compromises to hang on to it. But dancing to Tony Whybrow’s tune isn’t one of them. I don’t need to know the truth about Kerry’s death for her sake. I need to know for my sake.”

“Do you really believe she was murdered?”

“I believe it’s possible.”

“Then you must believe you may be married to a murderer.”

“Yeah. Nice, hey?” She took a last drag on her cigarette and tossed it out through the window. Her other hand was closer to his at that moment than at any time since she had got into the car. Habit prompted Harding to fold his fingers around hers. She neither responded nor pulled away.

“Last week we were lovers, Carol. What are we now?”

“Allies.” She looked at him levelly Her eyes had dried. Necessity had conquered sentiment. “Of a sort.”