‘In fact,’ said this cold-voiced man, regarding Antonia with unmistakable hostility, ‘the main doors ought to have been locked.’
‘Well, the front one certainly wasn’t locked,’ said Antonia returning his stare, ‘so I didn’t break in, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m staying at Charity Cottage for a few weeks, and I’m going to be doing some cataloguing work for Dr Toy–My name’s Antonia Weston.’
‘How do you do.’ It was said with the slight impatience of someone paying lip-service to the conventions. The tone was still challenging. ‘I’m Oliver Remus.’
Godfrey’s professor. The half-academic, half-dynamic gentleman who had sounded like the most positive force in Godfrey’s gentle life. There had not really been anyone else he could be, and through the still-lingering fear, Antonia registered that he was not in the least as she had pictured him. But by way of establishing her own credentials, she said, ‘You’re just back from a buying trip, aren’t you? Dr Toy mentioned it.’
‘Did he?’ He took a step nearer. ‘I’m sorry if I was sharp just now, Miss–Mrs?–Weston, but there are several quite valuable things in here and one or two have recently vanished, so you’ll appreciate that I’m always suspicious of anyone wandering in after hours. We’re considering a proper alarm system, but until then—’ He did not sound especially annoyed about any of this or particularly apologetic at having spoken sharply to Antonia.
‘In that case I’m sorry to come in when the house is closed to the public,’ she said, trying to match his formality. ‘But there’s been a–I think there’s been an intruder at Charity Cottage, and I’m not sure what I should do about it, so I thought I’d have a word with Dr Toy—’ Infuriatingly her voice wobbled treacherously on this last part of the speech, and she broke off, frowning, because of all things to do–of all people to break down in front of…
Oliver Remus did not appear to notice the wobble. He said, quite sharply, ‘What kind of intruder? A burglar, d’you mean? In that case you should definitely call the police. I can give you the number of the local station if you don’t want to invoke a dramatic 999 response. Not that anyone ever behaves particularly dramatically in Amberwood.’
‘It’s not an ordinary burglar,’ said Antonia, ignoring this last part. ‘It’s some freak who’s getting into the cottage and playing sick jokes on me. I’ve just encountered the latest example, so I’m a bit off-balance.’
She had his full attention now. ‘Did you say, “getting into the cottage”?’
‘Yes. Even when it’s all locked up.’
‘How?’
‘If I knew that,’ said Antonia angrily, ‘I probably wouldn’t have run so wildly across the park just now to get help from Dr Toy.’ This was the most bizarre discussion to be having in the unlit passageway of Quire House with this unfriendly stranger who was still regarding her with suspicion. She said, ‘I don’t know how he’s getting in, but he’s certainly been there this afternoon!’
‘Is anything missing?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Then how d’you know someone’s been in?’
‘I’ll explain it to the police,’ said Antonia, feeling awkward and consequently sounding aggressive. ‘Did you say you had the number of the local station?’
‘It’s in my flat. I’ll go up and get it for you.’
‘Please don’t bother. I’ve got a mobile phone, and I can as easily get it from Inquiries or something.’
Antonia turned to go, but he stopped her.
‘You’re not going back to the cottage, are you?’
‘Yes.’ Where else did he think she was going?
‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Oliver Remus impatiently. ‘If there’s an intruder around you can’t go back across the park on your own and you certainly can’t go inside the cottage until it’s been properly checked.’