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She sank down on the edge of her bed, her knees giving, put down the gun on her bedside table, jerking at the little click the metal made on the wood. Her hands were shaking and damp with sweat. Thank God she hadn’t had to use the gun – she had had a week’s training, she was quite a good shot. But to fire at a human being … no, she could not imagine doing that.
She reached for the phone. What if he had cut the wires? But the phone purred obediently, so she hurriedly punched in the number of the emergency services.
‘Emergency – which service do you require?’ The female voice was indifferent.
‘Police.’
‘What is your name?’
‘Annie Lang. Please …’
‘Is that Miss or …’
‘Miss,’ she said, frantic to get help. ‘Look …’
‘And your telephone number and address, Miss Lang?’
Annie gave them impatiently. ‘Hurry up, get me the police, I think there’s a man in the house … a burglar … any minute now he might …’
‘I’m connecting you now, Miss Lang. Hold the line.’
Another voice, male and matter of fact, spoke a few seconds later. She told him about the red rose, the card.
His voice changed then, took on a note of amusement. ‘I see. So, miss, you found a red rose on your pillow this morning? And a Valentine’s card on your bedside table?’
‘Yes, he must have put them there while I was asleep. How could he have got in? My house is fitted with the most sophisticated alarms, I set them last night myself. The house should be as tight as a drum, nobody-should have got in!’
‘It is Valentine’s Day today, Miss Lang,’ the man at the other end of the line said, a smile in his voice. ‘Can’t you think of anyone who might have let himself in and …’
‘No! There are four sets of keys – I have one, my cleaner has another, my mother has a set, but she’s in hospital, and her keys are still here, in her handbag, in the house.’
‘And the fourth set?’
‘I have that, too, now. My mother had a companion/nurse, but she has left now, and I got the keys back. Look, will you please send a police car round here at once? For all I know he could still be here. I haven’t dared look round the house yet. I’m in my bedroom, I’ve locked the door.’
‘You said you had an alarm – is it still working?’
She hadn’t thought of that. Panic had stampeded her too much. She turned to look hurriedly at the computerised panel beside her bed. It showed a glimmering green with the words STATUS ALARM standing out on the screen. That meant it was still set, the alarms all switched on so that if a mouse ran through one of the control beams it would set off a noise like Armegeddon in the house and down at the police station, with which the alarm was linked. Once or twice in the past it had gone off at night, through computer malfunction, and the police had been here within minutes. She had had to apologise profusely for the error and make them all coffee before they went back to work.
‘Is it working, Miss Lang?’ asked the policeman.
‘Yes,’ she said, biting her lip, almost ready to believe she had imagined all this. ‘But …’
The policeman was fatherly, indulgent, patronising; his tone made her teeth meet. ‘Well, then, no stranger can have let himself in there, can he? Or it would have gone off and woken you up. As I said, he must have a key – and knows the control number of your alarm so that he could turn it off when he came in, and on again before he left!’
‘But …’
‘Now, I suggest you have a little think, Miss Lang, and see if you can’t remember anyone who has a key, knows the combination of your alarm – and might want to bring you red roses and a Valentine.’
By then she was so confused and bewildered she was half ready to believe him.
He waited a moment, then said with a smile in his voice, ‘I love the show, by the way, Miss Lang. We all do, you have a lot of fans in the station. If ever you need any advice or suggestions for unusual cases give us a ring, we’d be happy to give you some ideas.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, remembering to sound grateful but wondering how they would explain it if, after having asked for their help and been turned down
, she was found with her throat cut? ‘I’ll remember that.’
‘Any further problems, give us a ring, of course, and I’ll send a car round. But I think you’ll realise you know someone who might have played a practical joke on you. But if I were you, I’d get that key back from him, unless, of course, you want him to come and go as he pleases!’
