A Great Deliverance - By Elizabeth George Page 0,123
on the light to reveal a small, cramped room. He motioned them inside.
"You're going to find yourselves crowded in here," he warned, his tone of voice indicating how little he regretted the fact.
It was a narrow rectangle, no larger than a good-sized broom closet, which in fact it once had been. One wall was completely covered by a large mirror, two speakers hung at either end, and a table and chairs were set up in the middle. It was claustrophobic and pungent with the smell of floor wax and disinfectant.
"This is fine," Lynley said.
Samuels nodded. "When I fetch Roberta, I shall switch these lights out, and you'll be able to see through the two-way mirror into the next room. The speakers will allow you to hear what's being said. Roberta will see only the mirror, but I've told her that you will be present behind it.
We couldn't have her in the room otherwise, you understand."
"Yes, of course."
"Fine." He smiled at them grimly as if he sensed their apprehension and was glad to see that they - like himself - were not anticipating that the upcoming interview would be a diverting lark. "I'll be in the next room with Gillian and Roberta."
"Is that necessary?" Gillian asked hesitantly.
"Considering the circumstances, yes, I'm afraid it is."
"The circumstances?"
"The murder, Mrs. Clarence." Samuels surveyed them all one last time and then buried his hands deeply in the pockets of his trousers. His eyes were on Lynley. "Shall we deal in legalities?" he asked brusquely.
"That isn't necessary," Lynley said. "I'm well aware of them."
"You know that nothing she says - "
"I know," Lynley repeated.
He nodded sharply. "Then I'll fetch her." He spun smartly on one heel, switched out the lights, and left the room, closing the door behind him.
The lights from the room beyond the mirror gave them some illumination, but their close little cell was alive with shadows. They seated themselves on the unforgiving wooden chairs and waited: Gillian with her legs straight out in front of her, staring passionately down at the scarred tips of her fingers; Jonah with his chair next to hers, cradling its wooden back protectively; Sergeant Havers slumped down, brooding on the darkest corner of the room; Lady Helen next to Lynley, observing the unspoken communication between husband and wife; and Lynley himself, lost in deep contemplation from which he was roused by the touch of Lady Helen's hand squeezing his own.
Bless her, he thought, returning the pressure. She knew. She always knew. He smiled at her, so glad that she was with him with her clear-eyed sanity in a world that would shortly go mad.
Roberta was very much as she had been. She entered the room between two white-clad nurses, dressed as she had been dressed before: in the too-short skirt, the ill-fitting blouse, the flipflopping slippers that barely sufficed to give her feet protection. She had, however, been bathed in anticipation of the interview, and her thick hair was clean and damp, pulled back and fastened at her neck with a piece of scarlet yarn, an incongruous note of colour in the otherwise monochromatic room. The room itself was inoffensive and barren, devoid of decoration save for a trio of chairs and a waist-high metal cabinet. Nothing hung on the walls. There was no distraction, no escape.
"Oh, Bobby," Gillian murmured when she saw her sister through the glass.
"There are three chairs here in the room, as you can see, Roberta." Samuels's voice came to them without distortion over the speakers. "In a moment I'm going to ask your sister to join us. Do you remember your sister Gillian, Roberta?"
The girl, seated, began to rock. She gave no reply. The two nurses left the room.
"Gillian's come up from London. Before I fetch her, however, I'd like you to look round the room and accustom yourself to it. We've never met in here before, have we?"
The girl's dull eyes remained where they had been, fixed on a point on the opposite wall.
Her arms hung, inanimate, at her sides, lifeless, pulpy masses of fat and skin. Samuels, undisturbed by her silence, let it continue while he placidly watched the girl. Two interminable minutes dragged by in this way before he got to his feet.
"I shall fetch Gillian now, Roberta. I'm going to be in the room while you meet with her. You're quite safe."
The last declaration seemed entirely unnecessary, for if the hulking girl felt fear - felt anything at all - she gave no sign.