Read Online Bones in High Places by Suzette Hill - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Suzette Hill
Ads: Link
thus technically the owner. The last thing I want is for that particular link to be publicized. Otherwise I can’t see that it really matters. It’s not as if she gave the name of the place – and in any case they’re only a couple of rather intrusive chaps on holiday from their work or wives. We shan’t see them again – at least I hope not, three times is quite enough!’ I laughed, and scanned the car park searching for a feline shape with glittering eyes.
There was a long pause, and then Nicholas said, ‘Look, Francis, I know you’re not the brightest spark in the box, but hasn’t it struck you that there’s a rather consistent pattern emerging?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘For a start they come from Crowthorne. And then, according to Primrose, Mullion seemed unduly curious about your parish and clearly recognized your name. They are also heading roughly in the same direction as we are, i.e. into the Massif Central – a large area admittedly – and just happen to have chosen for their first night the selfsame place as ourselves. The odds for that particular coincidence are very long indeed, especially as we had already seen them whizz through that village in Normandy at a hell of a lick … so by rights you would expect them to be miles ahead of us, and yet they drive in here within minutes of our own arrival.’
‘Perhaps they took a long diversion,’ I suggested.
‘Perhaps – but try looking at the whole picture.’
‘The picture would be clearer,’ I said irritably, stung by his earlier jibe, ‘if I knew why you keep harping on about them coming from Crowthorne. You mentioned it in the car as well.’
He groaned. ‘Crowthorne, Francis, is where bloody Broadmoor is and your fat chum Crumpelmeyer! Or had you forgotten?’
As a matter of fact I had forgotten, and apart from being startled by his words, I also felt a fool. Such was the notoriety of that grim establishment that, despite once learning otherwise, my schoolboy imagination invariably placed it vaguely in some desolate mythic outpost far removed from the security of conventional life. That it was situated in the vicinity of a pleasant Home Counties village rarely registered with my consciousness … It did now.
I cleared my throat and took another mouthful of whisky. ‘Are you saying that they have something to do with the prison and are thus interested in my connection with Victor Crumpelmeyer?’
‘Got it in one, old cock.’
‘But that’s absurd! I grant you it’s a coincidence that they come from Crowthorne and also seem to know my name, but there must be hundreds of people living in the neighbourhood who have no connections with the asylum at all.’
‘Not if they are “on leave” and glad to get out of their “uniforms”.’
‘You mean that they are …’
‘Yes, of course I do. Screws. Bloody screws!’
I stared into the dark, digesting his words. ‘So you are saying that these screws know Crumpelmeyer and that it is through him that they have heard of me, and for some reason, having bumped into us on the boat, are keen to cultivate my company and to discover precisely where I am going?’
‘Something like that,’ he murmured.
I laughed nervously. ‘Oh really, Nicholas,’ I protested, ‘you read too many cheap thrillers. Just because there are one or two rather tenuously linked coincidences you have created a whole scenario in your head!’
‘That’s just it, old cock, I do not have a scenario in my head. Far from it – which is why I need to work things out.’ He sighed. ‘However, clearly nothing helpful can be expected from your direction, so I’m off to bed.’ And thus saying, he stubbed out his cigarette and ambled off back to the hotel, leaving me to finish the whisky and round up the cat.
11
The Cat’s Memoir
It is just as well I am a cat of stoical disposition for, as earlier mentioned, the indignities I had to undergo on that foreign journey were disgraceful! No doubt
There was a long pause, and then Nicholas said, ‘Look, Francis, I know you’re not the brightest spark in the box, but hasn’t it struck you that there’s a rather consistent pattern emerging?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘For a start they come from Crowthorne. And then, according to Primrose, Mullion seemed unduly curious about your parish and clearly recognized your name. They are also heading roughly in the same direction as we are, i.e. into the Massif Central – a large area admittedly – and just happen to have chosen for their first night the selfsame place as ourselves. The odds for that particular coincidence are very long indeed, especially as we had already seen them whizz through that village in Normandy at a hell of a lick … so by rights you would expect them to be miles ahead of us, and yet they drive in here within minutes of our own arrival.’
‘Perhaps they took a long diversion,’ I suggested.
‘Perhaps – but try looking at the whole picture.’
‘The picture would be clearer,’ I said irritably, stung by his earlier jibe, ‘if I knew why you keep harping on about them coming from Crowthorne. You mentioned it in the car as well.’
He groaned. ‘Crowthorne, Francis, is where bloody Broadmoor is and your fat chum Crumpelmeyer! Or had you forgotten?’
As a matter of fact I had forgotten, and apart from being startled by his words, I also felt a fool. Such was the notoriety of that grim establishment that, despite once learning otherwise, my schoolboy imagination invariably placed it vaguely in some desolate mythic outpost far removed from the security of conventional life. That it was situated in the vicinity of a pleasant Home Counties village rarely registered with my consciousness … It did now.
I cleared my throat and took another mouthful of whisky. ‘Are you saying that they have something to do with the prison and are thus interested in my connection with Victor Crumpelmeyer?’
‘Got it in one, old cock.’
‘But that’s absurd! I grant you it’s a coincidence that they come from Crowthorne and also seem to know my name, but there must be hundreds of people living in the neighbourhood who have no connections with the asylum at all.’
‘Not if they are “on leave” and glad to get out of their “uniforms”.’
‘You mean that they are …’
‘Yes, of course I do. Screws. Bloody screws!’
I stared into the dark, digesting his words. ‘So you are saying that these screws know Crumpelmeyer and that it is through him that they have heard of me, and for some reason, having bumped into us on the boat, are keen to cultivate my company and to discover precisely where I am going?’
‘Something like that,’ he murmured.
I laughed nervously. ‘Oh really, Nicholas,’ I protested, ‘you read too many cheap thrillers. Just because there are one or two rather tenuously linked coincidences you have created a whole scenario in your head!’
‘That’s just it, old cock, I do not have a scenario in my head. Far from it – which is why I need to work things out.’ He sighed. ‘However, clearly nothing helpful can be expected from your direction, so I’m off to bed.’ And thus saying, he stubbed out his cigarette and ambled off back to the hotel, leaving me to finish the whisky and round up the cat.
11
The Cat’s Memoir
It is just as well I am a cat of stoical disposition for, as earlier mentioned, the indignities I had to undergo on that foreign journey were disgraceful! No doubt
Similar Books
