A Suitable Vengeance - By Elizabeth George Page 0,58

were plain: He could leave the room or take her into his arms. There was no middle ground. There never would be. And it was sheer delusion to believe a time might come when he would ever be safe from what he felt when he was with her. He gathered up his papers, murmured a conventional good night, and started to leave.

He was halfway across the drawing room when she spoke.

"Simon, I've seen that man." He turned, perplexed. She went on. "That man tonight.

Mick Cambrey. I've seen him. That's what I'd come to tell Tommy."

He walked back to her, placed his papers on the desk "Where?" "I'm not entirely sure if he is the same man. There's a wedding picture of him and Nancy in their bedroom. I saw it when I took the baby up, and I'm almost certain he's the same man I saw coming out of the flat next to mine this morning - I suppose yesterday morning now - in London. I didn't want to say anything earlier because of Nancy." Deborah fingered her hair. "Well, I waited to say something because the flat next to mine belongs to a woman. Tina Cogin.

And she seems to be ... of course, I couldn't say for certain, but from the way she talks and dresses and makes allusions to her experiences with men. ... The impression I got . .

." "She's a prostitute?" Deborah told the story quickly: how Tina Cogin had overheard their row in London; how she had appeared with a drink for Deborah, one that she herself claimed to use after her sexual encounters with men. "But I didn't have a chance to talk to her much because Sidney arrived and Tina left."

"What about Cambrey?"

"It was the glass. I still had Tina's glass and I hadn't thought about returning it till this morning."

She'd seen Cambrey as she approached Tina's door, Deborah explained. He came out of the flat, and realising that she was actually in the presence of one of Tina's "clients,"

Deborah hesitated, unsure whether to give the glass over to the man and ask him to return it to Tina, whether to walk on by and pretend she didn't notice him, whether to return to her own flat without a word. He had made the decision for her by saying good morning.

"He wasn't embarrassed at all," Deborah said ingenuously.

St. James reflected upon the fact that men are rarely embarrassed about their part in a sexual liaison, but he didn't comment. "Did you talk to him?"

"I just asked him to give the glass to Tina and to tell her I was off to Cornwall. He asked should he fetch her, but I said no. I didn't actually want to see her with him. It did seem so awkward, Simon. I wondered would he put his arm round her or kiss her goodbye?

Would they shake hands?"

Deborah shot him a fleeting smile. "I don't handle that sort of thing well, do I? Anyway, he went back into the flat."

"Was the door unlocked?"

Deborah glanced away, her expression thoughtful. "No, he had a key."

"Had you seen him before? Or just that once?"

"Just then. And a moment later. He went into the flat and spoke to Tina." She flushed. "I heard him say something about red-headed competition in the hallway. So he must have thought . . . Well, he really couldn't have. He was probably only joking. But she must have led him to believe that I was on the game because when he came out he said that Tina wanted me to know she'd take care of my gentlemen callers while I was gone. And then he laughed. And he looked me over, Simon. At first I thoughLhe^d taken Tina seriously, but he winked and grinned and it just seemed his way." Deborah appeared to go back through what she had said, for her face brightened as she drew a conclusion from the facts. "Then she s probably not a prostitute, is she? If Mick had a key to her flat...

Prostitutes don't generally give out keys, do they? mean, s'pose one man stops by while another " She gestured futilely.

' ' '

"It would create an awkward situation."

"So perhaps she isn't a prostitute. Could he be keeping her(?S,mon? Or even hiding her?

Protecting her from some "Are you sure it was Mick you saw?" "I think it was. If I got another look at a photograph, I could be certam. But I remember his hair because it was dark auburn,