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'I thought you never talked to reporters.'
'I wouldn't have talked to this one if he hadn't convinced Henshaw that I'd want to speak to him.'
'Really?' Lindsay asked with sarcasm in her voice. 'That was clever of him, how did he do that?' Daniel's London home was run by a married couple who were far too well trained to talk to the press. What could a reporter have said to one of them to make them think Daniel would want to speak to him?
'He told Henshaw you were in serious trouble and the police were involved,' Daniel said drily, and Lindsay was stunned.
'He did what?' She was so angry she could scarcely speak, and Daniel laughed briefly at her expression.
'Once he was actually put through to me, of course, he came across with the truth about Stephen vanishing; by then he'd achieved his object.'
'What a rotten trick!' Lindsay exclaimed and Daniel shrugged.
'You should know by now that reporters can be unscrupulous in pursuit of a good story.'
'You're a fine one to talk about scruples,' Lindsay muttered, turning her anger in his direction. 'You wouldn't know a scruple if one came up and bit you!'
'Watch yourself!' There was the hiss of rage in Daniel's soft voice, and Alice took a step backwards in alarm, but Lindsay refused to budge, meeting his cold stare without blinking. She wasn't afraid of him, she meant him to know it, and her chin lifted defiantly. Other people might back off when he gave them that narrow-eyed look; in the past she had often done so too, but not any more, he needn't imagine he could frighten her with that air of controlled menace which he was so expert at giving out.
How did he do it? It wasn't just his height and build, other men of his physical type didn't have that effect—it was the mind behind that tautly structured face that was so disturbing.
Just over six foot, Daniel Randall was lean and tightly muscled; a man with a deep chest and wide shoulders which breathed power, but whose height added elegance to the impression he left, those long slim legs and supple hips moving with grace. Lindsay had often watched people watching him, seen the way women's eyes followed him. At first it had made her glow with pride, but in the end she had resented it; it underlined for her the fact that Daniel Randall
was not a domesticated man, he was not cut out to be anybody's husband, he was a ruthless predator at home in the jungle of his own choosing.
Alice had backed until she sat down on the couch. Daniel detached his eyes from Lindsay and went over to sit down next to Alice, taking one of her hands between both of his.
'Now, Alice,' he said, one long sinewy thumb stroking the back of her hand in a soothing rhythm, 'what's this all about? Why has Stephen gone off?'
'I don't know,' said Alice, her voice high. She was grey, tired, her eyes great pools in that colourless face. 'He didn't come home last night, that's all I know.'
The door bell rang again, someone had his thumb, on the bell and wasn't lifting it. Daniel turned his head, a flash of rage in his eyes.
'I'll knock that guy's teeth down his throat if he keeps that up much longer!'
'Maybe it's the police,' said Alice, stiffening.
'It's the reporter who was here before,' Lindsay told her in a flat tone. 'I recognised him.' She glanced at Daniel and then away. 'He must have been the one who rang you. He tried to talk his way in here earlier and I shut the door on him.'
Daniel detached himself from Alice, getting up. 'What are you going to do?' Lindsay asked, frowning. 'Don't lose your temper, if you hit him it will be all over Fleet Street tomorrow morning.'
'I'm going to ring the police,' Daniel said curtly. 'Alice has a right to be left alone in her own home, they can send someone over here to keep the press away.'
'They're shorthanded,' Lindsay told him.
'They told me so when I rang to tell them Stephen was missing. They won't be able to spare anybody to stand outside here all night.'
Daniel stared at her, then turned and went out. Lindsay followed and watched him pick up the phone. 'What are you going to do?' she asked again, and he gave her a dry smile.
'I'm getting a couple of men to mount guard over the house until this blows over.'
He dialled and Lindsay went back into the sitting-room, hearing his deep cool voice talking in the hall as she sat down next to Alice.
'Stephen won't like it if this gets into, the newspapers,' Alice warned.
'He should have thought of that before he went off without telling you where he was going.' Lindsay found herself see-sawing between worry about her brother and impatience with him, her fear kept turning into anger and she could understand why Alice wouldn't go to bed. How could anyone rest when their husband was missing? She heard Daniel replace the phone and walk back towards them. Her reactions to his appearance on the scene were confused too; she was relieved to have him take charge and start organising events, but she was irritated that he should feel he had the right to do so. It was all part of that calm arrogance which she found insupportable—who did he think he was?
'I've got some sleeping tablets in my bag, why don't you take one and try to get some sleep, Alice?' she asked her sister-in-law, who frowned petulantly, her forehead lined.
