People do do cruel things, don’t they, all the time? Some months after the Falklands War was over a man rang me out of the blue. He wanted me to know, he said, that my son Gavin was not dead. He said that in the three days he was in London after he had flown back from Washington—days when we didn’t see him, only talked to him on the telephone, and that briefly—he met up in London with a naval lieutenant who had recently left the service. They met over a drink in a pub near the Junior Army and Navy Club, and apparently this former lieutenant was mad with frustration because he was missing the action he had always craved in his service career and never got. And Gavin was racked with doubts about the war, doubts about his role in it, and dread of the sort of war it was going to be, based on his knowledge of the sort of weapons he had been promoting while in Washington.
He said they decided to change places.
This was possible because Gavin had been out of regular service life for more than four years. They knew that someone on the ship would know that this was not Gavin Hoddle, but they thought that this could be kept quiet, especially in the chaos of sudden embarkation for war. The man who phoned me said that two people on the Sir Galahad knew of the deception: one was killed the same day as ‘Gavin,’ and he was the other. He said he was sure my son would contact me soon.
I didn’t believe it at the time. I remember crying into the phone, but not really believing him. I didn’t tell Andy, because he had been so devastated by Gavin’s death, and it seemed cruel to arouse hopes on the basis of what seemed like a very nasty hoax. But perhaps in the back of my mind there was always the hope that just conceivably Gavin was alive, and out there somewhere under a new name, and would make contact.
As I say, people can be cruel.
Now that Andy has a job I sit here a lot on my own, wondering. I wonder how you and Robert met up. I wonder if your plans to murder Lydia were always spoken of merely as a joke (the police say that’s what Robert will plead). I wonder about the reading of Lydia’s letter, and the feelings that aroused in you. I wonder if Robert will remain silent if he is found guilty.
Above all I wonder, if I asked to be allowed to pay you a visit, if you would consent to see me. . . .
Thea stopped writing. Of course he would not consent to see her. Why would he want to make contact, now of all times? She was hardly even marginal in his life—in that respect, at least, Lydia’s victory had been total.
She read through the letter. Of course it could not be sent. Even if she could be sure it would not be read by the prison authorities, it could not be sent. She could not make an approach, where the approach would clearly be unwelcome. She tore the letter into pieces and threw them into the fire. Then she sat looking at the burning coals until Andy came home from school.
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
A Scandal in Belgravia
A City of Strangers
Death of a Salesperson
Death and the Chaste Apprentice
At Death’s Door
The Skeleton in the Grass
The Cherry Blossom Corpse
Bodies
Political Suicide
Fête Fatale
Out of the Blackout
Corpse in a Gilded Cage
School for Murder
The Case of the Missing Brontë
A Little Local Murder
Death and the Princess
Death by Sheer Torture
Death of a Perfect Mother
Death of a Literary Widow
Death of a Mystery Writer
Blood Brotherhood
Death on the High C’s
Death of an Old Goat
We hope you enjoyed reading this Scribner eBook.
* * *
Join our mailing list and get updates on new releases, deals, bonus content and other great books from Scribner and Simon & Schuster.
CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP
or visit us online to sign up at
eBookNews.SimonandSchuster.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1992 by Robert Barnard
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Publisher.
Scribner
Simon & Schuster
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
ISBN 0-684-19412-0
ISBN 978-1-4767-3729-4 (eBook)