Temple shook his head. ‘She’s not here.’
The loudspeakers boomed out some announcement about a train shortly due to depart for Edinburgh. The panels on the indicator-board flapped as a new set of departure times was rung up. From one of the platforms a posse of travellers just in from the North spilled out, dazedly lugging suitcases.
‘Is there another bookstall?’ Forbes was turning his head this way and that, searching for a slim woman in a blue suit. Charlie had told them what Steve was wearing when she’d set off for the airport.
‘There may be.’ Temple had started across the spacious hall, his eyes checking the entrances to the bars, restaurants, information desks. People were still crowding up and down the moving staircases leading to the Underground. Half a dozen skinheads were sitting disconsolately in front of the marble plaque commemorating the opening of the new station by Queen Elizabeth II on 14 October 1968. But no sign of Steve.
He stared at the flower-sellers packing up what was left of their stock. The bunches of spring daffodils reminded him vividly of her. So often he had bought her a huge bunch on his way home. Then suddenly, he knew what had happened.
‘Sir Graham, you wait here. It’s just a thought, but—’
Temple quickly located the sign pointing to the ladies cloakroom. Dazed and scared as she was, Steve would still have been thinking about her appearance. It would be just like her to believe she had time for a quick check-up in front of a mirror. He had entered the opening of the passageway that led to the toilets and was bracing himself to invade the women’s domain when he saw a figure in a blue suit coming out through the door. Three seconds later they were in each other’s arms.
‘Steve!’
‘Paul!’
She was almost sobbing with relief. He held her away from him for a moment.
‘Darling, you said by the bookstall.’
‘Yes, I know. But I knew my face looked awful and I never thought you’d get here so quickly.’
‘Well—’ Temple let out a long sigh. ‘Thank God we’ve found you.’
Forbes had come striding over from the flower stall. ‘Are you all right, Steve?’
‘Yes, Sir Graham.’ Steve managed a little smile. ‘I’m just – a little tired, that’s all.’
‘What happened?’ Temple asked. ‘How did you come to be here? Who was that man whose voice I heard?’
‘Paul, I’m confused…and frightened…I hardly know…’
‘Wait a moment, Temple,’ Forbes said in a low voice, his eyes on Steve’s trembling hands and nervously restless glance. ‘I think we’d better get her home and let a doctor see her before we start asking too many questions.’
‘You know, Temple, this really is an extraordinary affair.’ Sir Graham Forbes put the glass of whisky Temple had given him on the table beside his chair. ‘I’ve never come across a case quite like it before. No ransom – no mysterious notes – no threats – no blackmail. Nothing.’
‘And no motive either, sir,’ added Raine, who had opted for a glass of lager, ‘so far as we can see.’
The hands of the clock on the mantelpiece of the Temples’ sitting-room had moved round to twenty past eleven. More soberly than on the outward journey Raine’s driver had brought Steve, Forbes and Temple back to Eaton Square. Temple had been lucky to find the partner of their own doctor at home and he had come round at once. The three men were having a drink while they waited for him to pronounce her fit for questioning.
‘They must have had a motive!’ Temple exclaimed. He was pacing restlessly up and down the room. ‘Whoever they are, they must have had a reason for picking Steve up like that!’
‘I agree, Temple. But what was the reason? After all, it isn’t as if you’re mixed up in a case at the moment, or even helping us over…’
Forbes was interrupted by the door opening. Dr McCarthy put his head round it. ‘May I come in?’
He was a small, competent but slightly self-effacing man with a balding head and prominent ears. He wore rimless glasses and carried the regulation leather bag.
‘Yes, of course, Doctor. What’s the verdict?’
‘Nothing to worry about – nothing at all.’ The doctor ventured a little further into the room. ‘But there’s no doubt Mrs Temple has had quite a shock, and, in my opinion, she’s either been drugged or even possibly hypnotised.’
‘Hypnotised!’ Temple echoed incredulously.
‘However, the main thing is, there’s nothing for you to worry about, Mr Temple. What your wife needs now is rest, and plenty of it! I’ve given her a sedative; she’ll probably sleep most of tomorrow morning.’
‘Thank you, Doctor.’
‘I’ll look in during the afternoon, or give you a ring tomorrow evening.’
‘Thank you,’ Temple said again, and moved towards the door to see him out.
But Dr McCarthy had picked up the purposeful and expectant atmosphere in the room. He peered sternly at Raine through his small lenses. ‘And, Superintendent…’
‘Yes, Doctor?’
‘My patient can’t answer any questions – not at the moment, at any rate.’
Raine nodded, accepting the ban with resignation. ‘Very well, Doctor.’
‘So hold your horses until tomorrow.’ McCarthy turned to Temple, who was standing waiting by the door. ‘And that goes for you too, Mr Temple.’
When Steve woke she did not immediately open her eyes, afraid that she might see again the walls of the small room where she had been held prisoner. But the sound of music was reassuring and she dared to raise her eyelids. With relief she saw that she was in her own bedroom. Though it was darkened she could identify the familiar objects of everyday life.
‘Paul…What are you doing sitting over there?’
‘I’m listening to the radio and watching you, darling.’
‘Well, what time is it?’
‘What time do you think?’ Temple asked, smiling.
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Steve sat up in bed, stretched her arms and yawned. ‘The sun’s shining so it must be morning.’
‘It’s a quarter past five.’
‘A quarter past five? In the afternoon?’
‘Yes, darling. You’ve had quite a nice little nap.’
‘How long have I actually been…?’
‘Since eleven o’clock last night.’ Temple put the paper down and came over to the bed. ‘The doctor gave you a sedative.’
‘Good heavens! You shouldn’t have let me sleep like this! Oh, Paul – you look wonderful! How lovely to see you again!’ She reached out towards him as he bent down to kiss her. ‘Did you have a nice trip?’
‘Yes, I did. But it’s the last trip I’m making without you, Steve.’
‘You can say that again!’ She laughed and slid luxuriously back under the bedclothes. There was more colour in her cheeks than the night before but she had dark