Free Ann Granger by A Mortal Curiosity Page B

topiary trees, rhododendron bushes and laurel hedges. As I looked out my eye caught a movement and a small red point glowed in the shadows. As I watched the red point moved back and forth and eventually described an arc through the air, fell to earth and was extinguished. Dr Lefebre had concluded his evening stroll with a cigarette. He’d been out there some time. I wondered how far he’d gone on his moonlit walk and if it had taken in the shingle beach.
    I left the window and placed my stout balmoral boots on the carpet by the head of my bed in case the rat should dare to show his whiskers and I needed something to throw at him. Then I fairly fell into bed and went straight to sleep.
    *   *   *
    It is an odd thing but when one falls asleep like that, dead to the world, one can awaken just as suddenly and for no obvious cause. I awoke in such a way and sat bolt upright in bed. I was filled with an unreasoning alarm, my heart throbbing in my breast and my skin fairly prickling with awareness of something being wrong. I told myself at once this was only because I was in a strange place. Come, come, Lizzie, pull yourself together, you are not a child to be afraid of the dark! I admonished myself. Yet the feeling of unease did not leave me, even though my eyes adjusted slowly to the gloom. The shapes of the furniture identified them as harmless constructions of wood. My petticoat thrown over a chair back glowed palely in a sinister fashion, but showed no inclination to rise and flap towards me.
    I threw back the covers and slipped out of bed. I hadn’t the means to relight the candle stub, so I padded barefoot to the window and leaned out to take advantage of the moonlight.
    The noise of the waves seemed louder and nearer to hand; the tide had come in. Perhaps it was only that, then, which had disturbed my slumber? Then, as I leaned on the sill, I heard a different noise: a whispering followed by a low bass murmur. I frowned and leaned further out, the air currents catching at my unpinned hair and blowing it across my face.
    The garden still showed the pattern of silver and black. Nothing moved except the tips of the trees in the light wind. Perhaps I had only imagined the strange noise; it must be the waves. I was unaccustomed to the variety of sounds they could produce.
    But there it was again: a whispering followed by something louder, definitely a human voice, quite high in pitch but too muted to assign to a sex. It was echoed by the bass murmur, more expressive and forceful. There were at least two people in conversation in the garden.
    Was Dr Lefebre still there? I held my unruly locks away from my eyes and peered more intently. I wished I knew what time it was. As if in answer to my wish, the long-case clock downstairs in the hall struck two. No, Dr Lefebre would not still be there in the early hours, unless he suffered from insomnia. Were that so, as a doctor he should surely be able to prescribe himself some opiate? Should I rouse the household? Were thieves plotting together to force an entry?
    But even as I wondered, the conversation below came to an end. A figure slipped out of the shadows and came towards the house, disappearing again before I could see whether it came indoors or made its way round the outer walls. It was impossible to say of which sex it had been, so well enveloped in draperies was it.
    The second speaker was still down there; I caught just the barest movement and instinctively drew back so that if he or she should look up I would not be seen. Whoever it was kept in the shadows and did not come towards the house. I sensed, rather than saw, the presence pass by my room and quit the scene.
    Then, just as I was about to leave my station at the window, yet another movement below caught my eye and a small white shape, almost luminous in the moonlight, pattered by in the wake of the visitor right beneath my window.
    I was almost sure it was one of the rat-catcher’s little terrier dogs.

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