Rachel Alexander 03 - A Hell of a Dog

mind?”
    “Oh, I saw a wonderful article in the Gazette , Rachel. It sounded like something one couldn’t afford to miss.”
    “And it has been quite something, hasn’t it?”
    “Well, much more exciting than anyone dreamed,” she said, leaning toward me over her cup. “Poor things, those men who died.”
    She was looking down at her lap now, and I could clearly see that there was no hearing aid in either ear, yet she’d heard me when I’d whispered. I gave it one more try.
    I broke off a piece of my scone and took a bite. “I feel so sorry for their families,” I said, rudely talking with my mouth full.
    “Oh, yes, the wives. I feel such empathy for the wives, alone now, having to cope by themselves. Grieving, but carrying on.” She seemed not to be seeing me, but looking off into the past.
    “Detective Flowers called Sam,” I said.
    “Oh?”
    ‘They don’t think the deaths were accidental.”
    “You don’t say.”
    “I do. I’ve never thought so myself, Beryl.”
    “Is that so, dear?” Holding her cup at chest level, she peered at me with unblinking eyes.
    “I was thinking that maybe Alan’s door hadn’t closed all the way when his lady friend left. Then, of course, someone else would have been able to open it without a key, wouldn’t they?”
    “Well, I suppose that’s—”
    She turned because Dashiell had opened the door to her room, the door I’d stopped from closing all the way by using my foot to push Dashiell’s ball into the corner of the door frame as soon as Beryl had taken the tray of goodies and headed for the dresser, the way the ball Beau had hopefully tossed to the departing Audrey had gotten wedged in Alan’s door and had kept it from clicking shut
    “Possible,” she said, finishing her thought
    I saw caution creep into her eyes.
    “Oh, look, dear,” she said, a smile as false as a four-pound note spreading across her lips but leaving her eyes unchanged. “It’s happened here. The door didn’t shut all the way. How careless of me. But something good’s come out of it, hasn’t it? Now Cecilia has your beautiful boy to play with.”
    “Did something good come out of Alan’s door being left ajar when his lady friend exited? She was in such a rush, wasn’t she?”
    We sat there then holding our teacups and looking at each other, sending messages without saying a word. We could hear the dogs wrestling on the other side of the room, but neither of us turned to watch them.
    “Audrey? Oh, yes, dear. She was anxious to get back to her room unseen. She never even looked in my direction.”
    “Why, Beryl?”
    She ignored me, taking a sip of her tea.
    “Wonderful,” she said. “I don’t understand why you Americans use those silly little bags.”
    “It had to do with Tina, didn’t it?”
    “I see. So that’s where you and Chip were last night. Then you understand, of course.”
    And just then, I did.
    “She never told you who. That’s it, isn’t it? Of course,” I said. “Who would know better than your own daughter what a fuss you would have made. And she was right, wasn’t she?”
    “It’s not what you think,” she said, holding her cup in front of her, balancing the plate with the scone on her lap.
    “Then tell me what it was.”
    “I’d gotten up early, you see. Well, early isn’t the word for it. It was four in the bloody morning. Jet lag, I suppose. I tossed and turned for half an hour, then tried a warm bath. But I couldn’t get back to sleep. We had to get up early anyway, I told myself, for the tracking. So I decided I’d take the little one out for a walk. I thought it would calm my nerves, make me feel better, fresh air and all that. That’s when I saw her, sneaking out of Alan’s room.
    “I’d only meant to get cross with him, you see. I know it was foolish of me to think my anger would stop him from hurting other vulnerable young girls.”
    “The way he’d hurt Tina.”
    Beryl winced.
    “At the time,” she said, talking slowly, thinking she shouldn’t have to explain all this, “I thought it was he. Else I never would have walked in on him when he was in his bath, would I?”
    “Of course not.”
    “I’d only gone in there to vent, Rachel. You’re absolutely right. Tina never told me who. ‘You know how you are, Mummy,’ she said to me. ‘You’ll only make a scene. It’s none of your business,’ she said. ‘I’ll take care of it myself. I’ll do whatever has to be done.’ ”
    She pulled a large