Read Online A Wayward Game by Pandora Witzmann - Free Book Online Page B

a
moment for me to untangle the vast amount of information accrued
here, the bewildering records of names, dates, and hours. Then I
find the cells for June 15th and 16th, and the names of the two
concierges who would have been on duty on those days. The evening
and night of June 15th-16th, when Sallow and Diane returned from
Dorset, was covered by William Walsh; the morning and afternoon of
June 16th, when Diane was reported missing, by Martha Lewis. I
scribble the names down in my notepad, and take another quick
glance through the doorway. The telephone on the front desk rings
as I do so, and the concierge reaches out and picks up the
receiver, answering in his polite, rather bland way.
    As his voice
drones on, I close the spreadsheet and the sub-folder, and return
to the “Staff Records” folder. Scrolling down, I find an Access
database titled “Staff Contact Details”, and open it. It takes me a
moment to locate William Walsh, before his details flash up: 22
Rose Court, Blackheath, followed by a telephone number. I make a
note of these details, and then look for Martha Lewis. Her address
is listed as 13B Wallington Lane, Deptford. I scribble everything
down, and then slip my notebook back inside my handbag and close
the database just as the concierge finishes his telephone
conversation.
    I can scarcely
believe my luck. It was such a long shot, so unlikely that these
details would exist after all this time. I smile, and then remember
that I am meant to be feeling unwell, and try to put on a strained,
miserable expression. To complete the pretence, I pick up the
telephone, pretend to dial, and then hold a curious, one-sided
conversation with the buzz of the dial tone: “Hello? Yes, I’d like
to make an appointment . . . Yes, for this afternoon, if possible .
. . Yes, Jane Hollis. Doctor Smith did tell me not to hesitate if I
felt unwell again. Yes, thank you. Goodbye.”
    I get up and
walk out into the lobby. The concierge glances up as I pass, and
smiles.
    “Are you
feeling better now, Madam?”
    “Yes, thank
you. Much better.” I smile back at him, and hesitate just for a
moment. “I wonder – I’ve an old family friend who works here, I
think. I’ve lost contact with him in recent years. William Walsh.
Do you know him?”
    The concierge
looks mystified, and shakes his head. “William Walsh? I don’t know
anyone of that name. I haven’t been here long myself, though, just
ten months or so. He must have left or retired before I
started.”
    “That’s a
shame. I remember he once mentioned a colleague and friend of his
here, Martha. Martha Lewis, I think her name was. Is she still
here?”
    “Martha?” A
shadow passes over his young face. “Didn’t you hear? She died a
couple of months ago. Collapsed suddenly. Heart trouble, I
think.”
    “Oh, God. How
awful. I’m very sorry.”
    “Well, I didn’t
know her very well, but all the same, it was a terrible shock.”
    “No doubt.
Well, thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”
    “Do you need
anything else, Madam?”
    “No, thank you.
I’ll be quite all right now. Goodbye.”
    I turn and
begin to walk away, anxious to get away from Lexwood House now that
I have the information I wanted. It’s a relief to step outside, out
into the cool, fresh air. I walk away from the building and towards
the Thames, comforted by the familiar city skyline. On the
embankment, I stop and look back.
    For all its
clean, rational spaces and tasteful luxury, Lexwood House is a
cursed place in my mind, a haunted place. Diane was, ultimately, a
stranger in this place. She was a chameleon, of course, and adopted
the tone of her environment. She did so successfully enough to fool
outsiders, but those on the inside would never have been deceived.
She would never really have been a member of this privileged set,
and being on the outside in such a way automatically puts you at a
disadvantage. Sallow had all the power, and he must have known it.
I look up at the tenth floor, where