Hell Is Too Crowded - Jack Higgins [45]
"The island?" Brady said.
"Shayling Island," she explained. "It's about two miles off the Essex coast near a fishing village called Harth. He has a house there."
"What's it like?" Brady said.
She shuddered. "Gloomy sort of place. I spent a few weeks there last summer when he had guests. It always seemed to be raining." As Brady put down his cup she got to her feet. "But you're wasting your time. He won't see you, even if you go down there."
"Oh, you never know," Brady said lightly. "I might catch him on a good day."
"He never has good days," she said cryptically.
"Thanks for the tea," he said, "and the information. You've probably saved my job."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that," she said and he grinned and closed the door.
By now, the party had really started to fan out and there seemed to be noise and disturbance echoing from every corner of the house. He could still hear it clearly on the night air as he went down the front steps to the car and drove away.
The fog had thickened so that at times, traffic was reduced to a crawl, but it still only took him half an hour to get to that quiet square in Kensington.
He parked the car and went upstairs quickly. When he opened the door, the apartment was in darkness. He stood outside Anne's door for a moment, listening to her steady breathing before moving into the kitchen.
He felt surprisingly hungry and started to make a bacon-and-egg fry. As he scooped it from the pan to plate, there was a slight noise behind him and he turned to see her standing in the doorway.
She was tightening the cord of a housecoat, her hair straggling across her face, the eyes still swollen and full of sleep.
"Would you like something to eat?" he said.
She shook her head. "Just coffee."
He poured coffee into a cup for her, strong and black with plenty of sugar and she sat on the opposite side of the table and watched him eat.
All at once, there was an intimacy between them, a definite feeling that this was how it always should be. Brady sensed it and realized that she did also, but it remained unspoken.
She smiled gently. "You look tired."
"It's been a hard night," he said.
"Did you manage to find this Jane Gordon person the Soames woman told you about when we were in the car?"
"I'm afraid I was too late," he said, "but I found what I needed to know in the end."
He lit a cigarette and gave her a brief outline of the events of the past few hours. When he had finished, she sat there without saying a word, staring sombrely into space.
"What do you think?" he said.
"I think you should go to the police," she said. "I think things have gone far enough."
"But Davos is the one person left on earth who knows the truth," he said. "Do you think it's likely he'll make a confession at this stage?"
She frowned, her fingers twisting together nervously. "But what about the others who've been mixed up in this affair? Das and Professor Soames, for examples. The police should be able to get something out of them."
He shook his head. "Not a chance. Even Soames didn't know who Jane Gordon was working for. My one hope is to get to Davos, to force him to confess before the police lay me by the heels."
"And what if he refuses?" she demanded. "What will you do then? Kill him?"
"And why not?" he said bitterly. "If ever a man deserved to die, he does."
He got to his feet and paced restlessly across the floor. After a moment he turned back to the table. She sat with her head bowed and he pulled her to her feet and held her close in his arms. "I lost control there for a moment. I'm sorry. I'm tired. I suppose we both are. Better go to bed."
"The man who handled your case before," she said. "This Inspector Mallory. Couldn't he do something?"
"He certainly did a hell of a lot for me last time," Brady said. He led her through the living-room and back into her bedroom. "Now forget about it. We'll talk it over in the morning."
"What about you?" she said.
He shrugged. "I'll manage on the divan in the living-room."