Cast in Order of Disappearance Read Free Page B

station.

III
    Who Was at the Ball
    CHARLES LOOKED AT the sheet of paper. It was pale blue with a dark bevelled edge and, on it, scrawled in black biro capitals, was an uncompromising message. Basically, it told Jacqui to get lost when she wasn’t wanted. And basically was the way it was done. The language was disgusting and the note anonymous. ‘Charming. Are you sure it’s from him?’
    â€˜No one else had any reason.’
    â€˜And is the language in character?’
    â€˜Yes, he never was very delicate. Particularly when he was angry. Could be quite frightening.’
    â€˜Paper familiar?’
    â€˜Yes. He had it on his desk at Orme Gardens. Some headed, some plain like this.’
    â€˜Hmm. Well, there’s only one way to treat shit of this sort.’ Charles screwed the note up into a dark glass ashtray and set it on fire with the table lighter. When the flame had gone, he blew the black ash carefully into the waste-paper basket. ‘When did it come?’
    â€˜It was on the mat when I got up. About eleven. A bit after.’
    â€˜Come by post?’
    â€˜No. Plain envelope. On the table.’
    Charles leant over and picked it up. Blue, matching the paper. Told him nothing. ‘And I suppose you didn’t . . .’
    â€˜See anyone? No.’
    â€˜It’s a fairly nasty way of breaking something off, isn’t it?’
    â€˜Yes.’ She looked near to tears. ‘And I thought it was going so well.’
    â€˜Perhaps he’s just a nasty man.’
    â€˜He could be, I know. But with me he was always kind. When we were in France, he—’
    â€˜When was this?’
    â€˜We went in August, came back in October. Marius’s got a villa down the South. Sainte-Maxime. It’s a lovely place. Private beach.’
    â€˜Very nice.’
    â€˜Anyway, he took me there to recuperate.’
    â€˜What from?’
    â€˜I’d had an abortion.’
    â€˜His baby?’
    â€˜Yes. He fixed it up, but it didn’t quite go right. I was ill. So he took me out to Sainte-Maxime.
    â€˜And he was there all the time?’
    â€˜Yes. He’d been ill too—had a minor heart-attack. He was meant to be resting, though, of course, being Marius, he was in touch with the office every day.’
    â€˜It was just the two of you out there?’
    â€˜Mostly. Some friends of his dropped in, theatre people. And Nigel for a bit.’
    â€˜Nigel?’
    â€˜His son.’
    â€˜Oh yes.’ Charles remembered someone once mentioning that Steen had a son. ‘I didn’t think they got on.’
    â€˜That was ages ago. They made it up, more or less. Nigel works in the business.’
    â€˜And while you were out in France, it was all OK? Between you and Marius?’
    â€˜Yes. We had a marvellous time. He was very silly and childish. And kind.’
    â€˜And now he sends you notes like that. You can’t think of any reason for the change in his attitude?’
    Jacqui hesitated. ‘No. Would you like some lunch?’
    While she cooked, Charles went down to the off-licence and bought a bottle of wine. It was obvious from Jacqui’s manner that she did have an idea why Steen had changed. And that she was going to tell him. It was only a matter of waiting.
    The lunch was unremarkable. Jacqui was a frozen food cook. He remembered it from Worthing. Endless beef-burgers and cod steaks with bright peas and diced vegetables. But the wine made it passable. They talked back to Worthing, hedging round the subject of Steen. Eventually, as Charles drained the bottle evenly into their two glasses, he asked, ‘What do you want me to do, Jacqui?’
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    â€˜You’ve brought me round here for a reason.’
    â€˜I was frightened.’
    â€˜Yes, but there’s something else.’
    â€˜Yes.’ She looked very vulnerable. Again he felt the sense of debt that had started when he failed