Dialogues of the Dead

“He was full of laughter,” she said quietly. “Whenever I was down he could always cheer me up. It didn’t seem too bad being called Raina while he was around.”

“I think it’s a lovely name,” said Hat staunchly. “And Sergius too. And I’m sure they were given to you with the best of intentions. Being called after characters in a play, you didn’t get that kind of romantic idea in my family!”

“Sweet of you,” she murmured. “Yes, there was a time when I too used to think it romantic to hear my mother and father explaining that we were named after Raina and Sergius, who are the two supremely romantic characters in the play, because these were the parts my parents were playing when they conceived us. Then one day when I was sorting out some of their stuff, I came across a collection of old theatre programmes. And there it was. Arms and the Man at Oldham. The date fitted perfectly. The only thing was when I checked the cast list, it wasn’t Freddie Pomona and Melanie Mackillop who were playing Sergius and Raina, it was two other people. My parents were playing Nicola, the head serving man, and Catherine, Raina’s middle-aged mother. How’s that for romantic, and do you take sugar?”

“A spoonful. Well, it’s not really so terrible, is it? Improving on the past isn’t exactly a capital crime.”

“I suppose not. Shaw would probably have liked it. The play’s all about exploding inflated notions of romance and sacrifice and honour.”

“Then why so cynical?”

She looked at him thoughtfully then said, “Another time, eh? Wetting my hair always loosens my tongue. Let’s see if those chocs you brought are any good.”

They went back into the sitting room. Rye opened the chocolate box, bit into one and nodded approvingly.

“Excellent,” she said. “So how did you know I was ill?”

“Well, I was at the library today …”

“Why?” she demanded. “Has something happened?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “Strict confidence, OK?”

“Guide’s honour,” she said.

He told her about the new Dialogue.

“Oh God,” she said. “I wondered when I heard about Johnson’s death …”

“What made you wonder?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Just a feeling. And maybe because …”

“What?”

“This connection with the library. I don’t just mean the Dialogues turning up there, but these last three killings, there’s been a kind of link. OK, it’s tenuous, but it does create a sort of illogical sensitivity. …”

Suddenly she looked very vulnerable.

“Come on,” he said with an attempt at avuncular jocularity. “Cheer up. No need for you to worry.”

“Really?” His reassurance worked insomuch as her evident vulnerability was instantly replaced by an air of nepotal admiration and trust. “Oh, do tell why I shouldn’t worry.”

“Well, because this guy, the Wordman, isn’t one of your normal sexual psychos going around topping young women. So far there’s only been one woman, Jax Ripley, and no sex. We don’t know yet precisely what drum this lunatic’s marching to, but there’s nothing to suggest that someone like you is more likely to be in the firing line than, say, someone like me. As for the library thing, my notion is that the short story competition gave him the kind of way of slipping his Dialogues into the public consciousness which appealed to his warped mind …”

“Sorry, run that by me again.”

“He’s got a puzzler’s mind, the kind that sees everything in terms of hidden answers, and deceptions, and references, and connections, and riddles, and word games. Hiding what’s turned out to be fact in a great pile of fiction is exactly the kind of thing that would appeal to him.”

“This degree they say you did, what was it in? Ornithology with psychiatry?” she said, half mocking, half complimentary.

“Geography,” he said, adding, “with Economics,” like a plea in mitigation. It didn’t work.

“My God. You mean I’m getting involved with a birdwatcher with a geography degree? At least I won’t have to worry about getting to sleep at nights.”

He examined this, decided there was more in it to be pleased with than to take offence at, and went on, “Being a detective’s like learning to use the reference library. It’s all a question of knowing where to look. We had these guys down from the Uni, a trick cyclist and a linguist. I took notes. What I’m saying is that while everyone should take care, there’s no group in particular we can advise as being at greater risk than any other. Saying everyone’s in danger may sound like cold comfort, but if you look at it statistically, if everyone’s in danger, the odds on you being the one are pretty long. So take care, but don’t take to the hills. Not without company, anyway. Talking of which, are you going to be fit for our expedition this weekend?”

“No problem,” she said, stretching back sinuously so that her T-shirt rode up from her jeans revealing a band of gently rounded belly which set all those alarms flashing and ringing along his arteries once more. “I’m feeling better by the minute. Who did you see at the library? Dick?”