Destroy Unopened by Anabel Donald

Author:Anabel Donald [Donald, Anabel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Macmillan

Chapter Twenty

I had enough hard information about Sam Eyre now, to ring Pauline and put her in the picture. But it was her husband who answered, snapping. ‘Dr Eyre. Who is this?’

‘Could I speak to Pauline Eyre, please?’

‘Not until you have identified yourself. I don’t countenance anonymous calls annoying my wife.’

‘Oh, does she get many?’ I asked blandly.

‘I don’t see what business that is of yours, whoever you are.’

‘You introduced the subject, Dr Eyre.’

Pause. Then he said, ‘Am I speaking to Alex Tanner?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Good morning.’

‘Why did you not introduce yourself?’

Unreasonable people make me unreasonable. Of course, normally, I would have said who I was. But his tone and his whole attitude suggested that he was censoring his wife’s calls not for her benefit but for his. I wasn’t surprised his daughter had run away.

‘My dealings are with Pauline,’ I said. ‘Is she there?’

‘No, she is not. Any information you have for her, you may give to me. Samantha is my daughter.’

‘When is Pauline likely to be back?’ Never, if she had any sense.

‘I repeat, give me the information. I will pass it on. If you have found Samantha, I am relieved to hear it. She should come home immediately. She has duties in this house, duties which she has neglected. Duties to me.’

Perhaps he was hiding concern behind aggression, but all I could feel was the aggression, his will against mine. He wanted to dominate me: I wanted to end the call.

‘Please tell Pauline I rang,’ I said, and put down the receiver.

That didn’t end the tension, though. I could feel it it my neck muscles and threatening to burn like acid in my stomach. I’d wanted to talk to Pauline because the coincidence, if it was a coincidence, of Sam being at Bartlett Close was worrying me. Now all I could think of was the Eyres and their home life.

What must it be like to live with him, I wondered. In my office I’d assumed that he was behaving particularly badly because he was upset about his daughter, angry with his wife’s independent action in hiring a detective, and feeling vulnerable off his home ground. But, if anything, he’d been worse just now. Maybe I shouldn’t give Sam’s address even to Pauline, who I hoped would ring me back. If her husband gave her the message.

Then I heard Lil.

‘The raw morning is rawest, and the dense fog is densest, and the muddy streets are muddiest, near that leaden-headed old obstruction, appropriate ornament for the threshold of a leaden-headed old corporation – The Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea. And hard by Kensington High Street, in the Town Hall, at the very heart of the fog, sits the Lord Mayor in his High Court of Pomposity.’ She finished, with an exultant shouting flourish, just outside the door of the office. Then she knocked.

‘Come in!’ I called.

She came in, tugging Benbow behind her He had his muzzle wedged firmly in a KFC box and was making slurping noises. ‘Morning, Lil,’ I said.

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