The Winding Stair Read online

  ‘But you say she didn’t tell anyone when she went away before; don’t you think that’s just what she’s done again?’

  ‘It was only a couple of days that time, but now, if you include the weekend, she’s been gone a whole week.’

  ‘A week is not long. Who is her next of kin, do you know?’

  ‘Yes, her parents. She could have gone there, I suppose. I can give you their address.’ Nancy got up and fetched an address book from a drawer. ‘Here it is.’

  ‘Copy that down, Tremayne,’ said Barker, then waited a moment while Nancy wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and regained her composure. ‘I’ll have the key to number three, if you don’t mind,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid I shall have to keep it for a while. You’ll let me know if Miss Harvey should come home, won’t you?’

  Nancy promised that she would. She followed Bill when he saw the inspector out and as he closed the door behind him and young Tremayne, breathed a sigh of relief. Something was going to be done and hopefully Ginny would be found and brought back to them soon. There would be tears and laughter and all the misunderstanding between them would fade away.

  Barker and Tremayne walked up to Ginny’s front door. The DI slotted the key in the lock, turned it, opened the door and stepped in.

  ‘Touch nothing, Tremayne,’ he said. ‘Keep your hands to yourself.’

  ‘Yes, Guv,’ said Tremayne.

  Looking into every room, Tremayne at his heels, Barker said, ‘Nice little place. But no crime was committed here. It’s too clean and tidy. We’ll seal it off all the same and get forensics in to search. Maybe she’s just gone walkabout after all. Women! Come on, Tremayne, keep up.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said the constable as he followed Barker back to the police car.

  SIX

  Hazel Thomas was at the front desk of the library. ‘Who are they, Curtis?’ she said, as two men marched towards her. ‘They’re never here to borrow books.’ Switching on her best smile she said, ‘Good morning, gentlemen. What can I do for you?’

  ‘I’m Detective Inspector Barker,’ said the elder of the two. He showed her his ID card then indicated his companion. ‘This is acting Detective Constable Tremayne. And you would be…?’

  ‘I’m Hazel Thomas, head librarian.’

  Barker took a photograph out of his wallet and put it on the counter, held it there with a finger on one corner.

  ‘I’m making inquiries into the disappearance of this young woman.’

  Hazel stared at the photo in disbelief. ‘But that’s Ginny … you say she’s disappeared?’

  ‘That is what I am being led to believe, madam,’ said Barker.

  ‘But why? Oh—’ Hazel gasped. She covered her mouth with her hand then lowered it and said, ‘She hasn’t been murdered, has she? Oh, do say she hasn’t.’

  ‘I sincerely hope not, Mrs Thomas. That’s what we have to find out. That’s why it’s very important that you tell me anything you know about her that might be relevant.’

  ‘Oh, I will,’ said Hazel.

  ‘I understand that Miss Harvey came to the library quite often and that you knew her well. When did you last see her?’

  ‘Let me see… . It would have been about a week or ten days ago, I’m not sure of the date.’ Hazel turned to Curtis Brookes, who had been standing nearby, listening to the conversation. ‘Do you know, Curtis? Were you here when Ginny came in?’

  ‘I was and it was – mm – let me see.’ Curtis rolled his eyes while he tapped his chin with his pencil. ‘Yes, it was a Friday. She was here on Friday week. I remember because it was my break time and we had a coffee together. She was telling me that she was planning to go to Scotland for Christmas. Heavens, that was ten days ago. Is it really that long?’

  ‘Know her well, do you?’ asked Barker.

  ‘Not that well. Only that she is a writer, she loves books and often comes here to borrow them or to do research.’

  ‘Mm.’ Barker looked long and hard at Curtis, who returned his look with a level unblinking gaze. ‘I believe you and Miss Harvey were friends, Mrs Thomas,’ said Barker as he turned to her. ‘Did she confide in you? Do you know if she had any problems … with boyfriends, for instance?’

  ‘She was popular and she did have a boyfriend but they split up and now there’s no one as far as I know, though someone had been pestering her.’

  ‘What exactly do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I don’t think you could say that it was a stalker because aren’t stalkers someone you know who won’t leave you alone? No, it was just that a rose was left on her doorstep every couple of days or so. It had been going on for … well … it must have been a couple of months at least, and there were phone calls too, the sort where you can hear someone breathing. Sometimes there was a voice, but she didn’t know whose. The things that have been happening have been playing on her mind. She complained of how it interrupted her writing. And when you come to think about it one silent phone call is nothing, but if it keeps happening it’s got to make you wonder what sick idiot is doing it. You could see how it affected her; she was a bundle of nerves.’

  Something clicked in Barker’s head. He picked up Ginny’s photo to take a closer look. When he’d first seen it he thought the face looked familiar, thought he’d seen her somewhere but couldn’t remember where. Now he knew. She was the girl whose photo was on the back cover of a book his wife was reading. So she was an author.

  ‘Did she do anything about it?’ he asked. ‘Try to set a trap or something?’

  ‘Well, not a trap, but she talked to her neighbours about it – no doubt you know Bill Graham – and when he suggested that the person who was bothering her might be a woman Ginny jumped to the conclusion that it might be Bill’s wife. Nancy was in the right place to leave the flowers and make the calls. And as she has a key to Ginny’s house, she could have found out where she was when she went off the first time. She and Ginny had a massive row, right here in the library. I don’t think they’ve spoken to one another since.’

  ‘And was that all she did?’

  ‘Bill told her she ought to report it to the police, but she chickened out. She thought that because she suspected Nancy it might get Bill into trouble.’

  Barker turned Ginny’s photo round till it was facing him. He kept his finger on it while he studied it. The silence stretched.

  ‘She’s a handsome young woman,’ said Barker at last. ‘Are you sure she doesn’t have lots of boyfriends? She surely must have one at least. Have you met any?’

  Hazel laughed, ‘Only this one.’ She looked at Curtis and Barker followed her gaze.

  ‘You couldn’t really call me a boyfriend. I suppose I am one of her friends, but that’s all I am,’ said Curtis. ‘I’m alone and she’s alone, and we meet for lunch or dinner now and then. There was no commitment, we met for company. Eating alone is no fun.’

  A woman carrying a pile of books hovered as if wondering which way to go, and when he saw her Curtis said, ‘Would you excuse me, please, Inspector?’

  Barker placed his hands, flat, fingers spread, either side of the photo and looked down at it. ‘She’s very attractive. I really can’t believe she hasn’t got a boyfriend.’ He looked up at Hazel. ‘Are you sure there’s no one else?’

  ‘Well, when she went off that first time…’

  ‘You mean when she ran off to Devon? Mrs Graham told me about it.’

  ‘It was just another rose on the doorstep, but it spooked her. She booked a hotel, hired a car and upped and left without telling anyone. She said there was a man at the hotel she stayed at who came on to her. She didn’t like him. His parents owned the place but he lives here in Salisbury. Nancy Graham said she saw them at the café in the supermarket and … well, I was going to say that they were having a stand up row, but I wasn’t there. Nancy was.’

  ‘And when was that?’

  ‘That was just after she came home. Actually, she did say he turned out to be quite nice after all, and she went out with him once or
twice. I did think he might be the one for her, but I don’t think she felt that way about him.’

  ‘And there is no one else?’

  ‘No.’ Hazel hesitated and Barker prompted her to go on. ‘Unless … no, you can’t count him.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Well, there’s this chap at the computer store where she used to go for paper and inks and all that stuff.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘She went out with him for a few months and I thought that she was going to settle down. But he was an awful jealous type; he wanted to know what she was doing every minute of the day. He’d keep phoning and interrupting her while she was trying to write. She hadn’t a moment to call her own so she finished with him and they had a massive bust up. He was furious and threatened that he’d get even with her, said that when he’d finished with her, her life wouldn’t be worth living. At least that’s what she told me. She goes somewhere else to get her computer supplies now and I don’t think she’s seen him since.’

  ‘Sounds a nasty sort of character,’ said DI Barker. ‘I might just have a word in his ear. What did you say his name was?’

  ‘I didn’t, but it was Ashley something. I don’t know his surname.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Thomas, you’ve been very helpful. Let me know if anything else comes to mind, won’t you. Even if you don’t think it’s important.’ He smiled at Hazel as he put Ginny’s photo back in his wallet. ‘I’ll just have a word with your assistant.’

  Barker found Curtis in the aisle marked crime; Curtis was slotting returned books into their rightful places.

  ‘Are you happy in your work, Mr Brookes?’ asked Barker.

  ‘Completely,’ said Curtis as he read a title and an author’s name and slid the book into its home.

  ‘Tell me your opinion of Miss Harvey,’ said Barker.

  ‘She was a lovely person; we were all very fond of her here. I like her very much because she is well-educated and can hold a conversation that is never boring and always makes you want to hear more. That’s why I used to ask her out.’

  ‘Have you any thoughts on what might have happened to her?’

  ‘I’ve probably got many, but we can all speculate, can’t we? And be completely off course. There’s no knowing what people will do.’ Curtis paused for a moment, then, looking directly into Barker’s eyes, said, ‘Or what people will do to others.’

  ‘Now what made you say that?’ asked DI Barker.

  ‘I’m sure Mrs Thomas has told you about the moron at the computer store that Ginny had a relationship with. I know how upset she was at the way he treated her. She didn’t deserve that. She’s a person who shouldn’t live alone; she needs someone to care for her.’

  Barker leaned against the bookshelf and stared at Curtis. Curtis had finished putting books away and stood with his hands clasped, waiting for Barker to speak again. At last Barker said, ‘You seem to be very concerned with Miss Harvey’s welfare. Do you perhaps have feelings for her?’

  ‘Of course, who wouldn’t? As I said, she’s such a lovely person. And as I told you before, she and I would meet for a meal occasionally, but there was no commitment on either side. She was not my girlfriend in the true sense of the word, though I would have liked her to be.’

  Barker took his time before speaking again. Tucking his left hand under his right elbow, he lifted a hand to his chin and rolled it round his jaw. Suddenly he smiled. ‘Thank you for giving me your time, Mr Brookes. I’ll be leaving you now. Good morning. Come along, Tremayne.’

  Barker glanced at Hazel as he led the way out. He made the old-fashioned gesture of nodding his head as he touched his forehead to bid her goodbye. Hazel watched as he and his silent companion walked away. Curtis re-joined her as the door closed behind them.

  ‘I can’t believe Ginny would do this again,’ said Hazel. ‘But I bet she thought Nancy would look after her cat despite everything she threw at her and she’s just taken off. What’s got into her? Is she acting out the plot of a book she’s planning to write? What do you think, Curtis?’

  ‘I couldn’t say. There’s no telling what people will do.’

  ‘But it’s not like her. I mean, if she was a mad-cap sort of girl I wouldn’t bat an eye, but that’s not her. I hope they find her soon.’

  ‘I’m sure you do,’ said Curtis. ‘But I’m sure she’ll come to no harm.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Curtis, you can’t be sure of anything. She might already have been murdered.’

  ‘Now you’re being dramatic, Mrs Thomas. That hasn’t happened.’

  ‘I hope you’re right, I really do,’ said Hazel. ‘But, oh dear … I don’t know. What an awful world this is.’ She stood for a moment and stared into space, then snapping to attention said, ‘Now then, we’d better get back to work. Those new books I ordered have come; they’re in the stock room. Will you get them out and do what you have to with them? I’m going to get a cup of tea, wish I had something stronger than milk to put in it.’

  SEVEN

  ‘ Don’t come any closer,’ said Ginny as she backed away. ‘You haven’t got that book, have you? You tricked me; you’ve got nothing for me.’

  She ran to the hall, to the door, to escape. She grabbed the handle. Even as she took hold of it he was upon her. He gripped her arm, twisted it behind her, turned her to face him and held her against the door. She kicked and caught him on the shin. He yelped, struck her on the side of the head and pushing his face close to hers, so close that his hot breath fanned her, said, ‘It’s a waste of time to fight, you’re going to stay here with me.’

  ‘What? You’re mad.’

  ‘No, I am not; you’re going to live here. I want you for my own.’

  ‘You can’t, you are mad. I’ve got to go home.’

  This was not happening. He was joking. She would wake up in a minute. But the look on Curtis’s face said that joking was the last thing on his mind.

  ‘Don’t make a fuss, Virginia,’ he said. ‘When you’ve settled down—’

  ‘Settled down? I am not going to stay here with you!’

  Jabbing her knee up sharply, Ginny aimed it at his crotch, but he twisted away from her and avoided the blow.

  ‘What’s got into you?’ he said. ‘I am not going to hurt you. I want to look after you. I want you to live here with me and let me care for you. I thought you would be pleased. You told Hazel that you don’t have enough time to do all the things you want to. Looking after your house and garden interferes with your writing. You need someone to care for you and give you that time. I can do that.’

  ‘NO, no, you can’t,’ Ginny spat at him. ‘Let me go.’

  ‘I can’t. I love you, Virginia. I can give you all the peace you need to write your books. You won’t have to cook or clean or shop, I shall do it all for you. I must take care of you.’

  ‘Love … me?’ Speechless, Ginny stared at him.

  It all made sense now, for at last she had come face to face with her stalker. Barely breathing the words she said, ‘It was you who left the roses. I thought it was Nancy and all the time it was you. Why?’

  ‘It was so hard to tell you how I felt, Virginia. I thought you might guess. I loved you from the first moment I saw you. I had to own you. Come with me.’

  With one quick movement Curtis spun her away from the door and, pinning her arms to her sides, propelled her forwards.

  ‘Let me go, let me go.’ Ginny struggled as Curtis manhandled her across the floor. ‘Where are you taking me?’

  ‘To your room.’

  A wide staircase rose up from the hall but they didn’t go up it. Set into the wall under the stairs was an open door.

  ‘No … no,’ cried Ginny as she looked though the doorway and beyond. ‘You can’t put me down there.’

  She grabbed at the door frame as Curtis pushed her through, but he was too strong and, fingers stretched to breaking point, she lost her grip.

  ‘It will only be until you realize how much better off you a
re going to be,’ said Curtis. ‘And you will be, I promise.’

  He pushed Ginny down a flight of stairs into a basement. Another door stood open. His hand on the middle of her back Curtis shoved her through the doorway and sent her flying into a dark space. The door slammed shut behind her. Launching herself at it, Ginny hammered on it, screamed at Curtis to let her out. There was a rattle of bolts being shot home. Then silence.

  ‘You can’t leave me here, you can’t,’ she shouted. ‘I have to go home.’

  There was no answer. Had he gone or was he outside listening? She stopped screaming and put her ear to the door. There was no sound, nothing but the breathing of the house.

  She was locked in. How could she have been so foolish as to let herself be lured into this situation? But she had trusted him and thought she was safe. ‘Come with me,’ he had said. ‘Will you walk into my parlour, said the Spider to the Fly.’ And as innocently as a fly looking for somewhere to alight, she had done as he asked. Was she, like the flies she had seen trapped in spider’s webs, destined to perish in the web into which Curtis had lured her? Not if she could help it.

  She turned around and looked at what she could see of the room. She sniffed the air. It smelt stale, musty, unused, but not damp. There was only one small window, high in the wall but at ground level. The light from a distant street lamp slanted through the metal grill. She could see very little. Surely there must be some other form of lighting and looking up, she made out the shape of a naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. The on-off switch was most likely close to the door. It was. She switched it on. Now that there was a better light she examined her surroundings.

  A bed stood against one wall, a wooden chair beside it, in a corner there was a portable toilet. The room was a cell. She was a prisoner and Curtis her jailer, with access to her whenever he chose. But only if she let him, and there was only one way to try to keep him out. She examined the door. It was a heavy wooden one. Ginny turned the handle and wasn’t surprised when the door didn’t open. She had heard the bolts that must have been fitted on the other side being slid into place. But at least there was a handle and the chair, of sturdy wooden construction, fitted nicely under it. It was the tried and tested technique of a person under siege. Thank goodness the door opened into the room or the ruse would not have worked. Being able to deny Curtis access, even if it was only by the smallest degree, gave her some measure of control.