Payment in Blood (Inspector Lynley, #2)(114)

When Barbara joined her in the sitting room a few minutes later, Lady Helen did not leave her long in suspense. She was sitting on the edge of the sagging, artificial horsehair couch, her eyes on the wall opposite where a single photograph of Barbara’s younger brother hung among ten rectangles of darker wallpaper, remnants of a previous collection of memorabilia devoted to his passing. As soon as Barbara entered the room, Lady Helen got to her feet.

“I’m coming with you tonight.” She made a small, embarrassed movement with her hands. “I’d have liked to put that more politely, but there doesn’t seem to be a point, does there?”

There also seemed to be no point to lying. “How did you find out?” Barbara asked.

“I telephoned Tommy about an hour ago. Denton told me he was on a surveillance tonight. Tommy generally doesn’t do surveillance, does he? So I assumed the rest.” She gestured again, with an unhappy smile. “Had I known where the surveillance was to be, I simply would have gone there myself. But I didn’t know. Denton didn’t know. There was no one at the Yard who could or would tell me. So I came to you. And I will follow you there if you don’t let me come with you.” She lowered her voice. “I’m terribly sorry. I know what kind of position this puts you in. I know how angry Tommy will be. With both of us.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

Lady Helen’s eyes moved back to the photograph of Barbara’s brother. It was an old school picture, not very well taken, but it depicted Tony the way Barbara liked to remember him, laughing, showing a missing front tooth, a face freckled and elfish, a mop of hair.

“After…everything that’s happened, I must be there,” Lady Helen said. “It’s a conclusion. I need it. And it seems that the only way I can bring it to an end for myself—the only way I can forgive myself for having been such a blundering fool—is to be there when you take him.” Lady Helen looked back at her. She was, Barbara saw, terribly pale. She looked frail and unwell. “How can I tell you how it feels to know that he used me? To know how I turned on Tommy when all he wanted to do was to show me the truth?”

“We phoned you last night. The inspector has been trying to reach you all day. He’s half-mad with worry.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t…I couldn’t face him.”

“Forgive me for saying so,” Barbara said hesitantly, “but I don’t think the inspector’s taken any pleasure at all from being in the right in this case. Not at your expense.”

She did not go on to mention her afternoon meeting with Lynley, his restless pacing as he set up the surveillance team, his continuous telephone calls to Lady Helen’s flat, to her family’s home in Surrey, to the St. James house. She did not go on to mention his black brooding as the afternoon wore on, or how he jumped for the telephone each time it rang, or how his voice maintained an indifference that was contravened by the tension in his face.

“Will you let me come with you?” Lady Helen asked.

Barbara knew the question was a mere formality. “I don’t see how I can stop you,” she replied.



LYNLEY HAD BEEN at Joy Sinclair’s home in Hampstead since half past four. The members of the surveillance team had arrived not long after, establishing themselves in prearranged locations, two in a dirty van with a flat tyre parked midway down Flask Walk, another above the bookstore on the corner of Back Lane, another in an herb store, still another on the high street with a view towards the underground station. Lynley himself was in the house, not far from the most logical means of access: the dining-room doors that faced the back garden. He sat in one of the low chairs in the unlit sitting room, monitoring the conversation that came spitting through the radio from his men on the outside.

It was just after eight when the van team announced, “Havers on the lower end of Flask Walk, sir. She’s not alone.”

Perplexed, Lynley got to his feet, went to the front door, and cracked it open just as Sergeant Havers and Lady Helen passed under a street lamp, their faces exposed in its eerie amber glow. After a quick survey of the street, they hurried into the front garden and through the door.

“What in God’s name—” Lynley began hotly once he’d shut the door behind him and they stood in a circle of darkness within the hall.

“I gave her no choice, Tommy,” Lady Helen said. “Denton told me you were on a surveillance. I put the rest together and went to Sergeant Havers’ house.”

“I won’t have you here. Damn it all, anything could happen.” Lynley walked into the sitting room where the radio was, picked it up, and began to speak. “I’m going to need a man here to—”

“No! Don’t do this to me!” Lady Helen reached out desperately but did not touch him. “I did just what you asked of me last night. I did everything you asked. So let me be here now. I need to be, Tommy. I won’t get in your way. I promise. I swear it. Just let me end this the way I need to. Please.” He felt suddenly torn by irrational indecision. He knew what he had to do. He knew what was right. She no more belonged here than caught up in the middle of a public brawl. Words came to his lips—appropriate and dutiful—but before he could say them, she spoke in a manner that struck him to the quick. “Let me get over Rhys the best way I know how. I beg it of you, Tommy.”