Smoke Without Fire by E.X. Ferrars

Author:E.X. Ferrars
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781631942709
Publisher: Felony & Mayhem Press
Published: 2022-12-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Andrew was alarmed. He was not used to having his advice followed, and so expeditiously. He was not much used either to giving advice. It seemed to him a very dangerous practice. On the few occasions when he himself had followed someone else’s advice, something had generally gone wrong. But where had Jonathan gone?

Still dopey from sleep, he inquired, “Has he taken his passport?”

“His passport! Oh, my God, I didn’t think of that!”

Dorothea shot out of the room.

While she was gone Andrew got out of bed and put on his dressing gown. He felt as if something were the matter with his head. It felt thick and strange and stupid. After only two or three minutes Dorothea was back.

“I can’t be sure,” she said, her voice shaking. “I thought he kept it in a drawer of the desk in his room, and it isn’t there. But I haven’t really searched yet. He may simply have moved it. Why did you say that, Andrew?”

“Just that he and I were talking about his going away yesterday evening,” he answered. “But of course I never dreamt of his doing anything so precipitate. Hasn’t he left you a message of some kind?”

“Nothing at all. Why did you talk about his going away?”

Why had they? For a moment Andrew’s mind was a blank. Then he remembered.

“Oh, of course it was because of the possibility that the bomb was meant for him. You talked about that yourself.”

“Yes, but imagine, not to let us know what he meant to do!” She seemed about to say something more, then turned and went running downstairs.

Andrew washed, shaved and got dressed. No one was thinking that morning of bringing him breakfast in his room. Going downstairs, he found Dorothea sitting broodingly at the table in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee in both hands. When he appeared she got up and fetched another cup and filled it with coffee, tipped some cornflakes into a bowl and pushed it towards him, then sat down again and swallowed some coffee that was evidently so hot that she choked over it. She had no thought of supplying him with cheese.

“Where’s Colin?” he asked. “Does he know Jonathan’s vanished?”

“Oh yes, it was he who found Jonathan had taken his car,” she said. “He’s gone round to the Deardens to ask them if they know anything.”

“Why should they?”

“Well, one’s got to do something. I don’t expect they do know anything.”

“Perhaps you’ll get a message from Jonathan later on.”

“Do you think so? You mean, he might telephone from wherever he’s gone.”

“Or perhaps he’ll simply come back. He may have found last night that he didn’t feel like trying to sleep, and he thought of driving off somewhere on his own to think things out.”

“But you asked about his passport.”

“I was only half awake.”

“You don’t think he’s suddenly gone off abroad somewhere?”

“If he did, what would he use for money?”

She thrust her fingers through her hair, clawing at her head as if that might help her to think more clearly.

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