Spider Light

What am I doing here, cut off from everyone I’ve ever known, with a madman attempting to spook me? Hangman’s nooses in the kitchen, teleportation of cats and cars driven by dead men–it’s classic horror-film material. All I need to complete the picture is for someone to hammer on the door, and say his car’s broken down so could he possibly use the phone, oh, and please not to take any notice of the dripping axe he happens to have in his hand, it’s just a rather outré accessory he likes to carry…


What would Richard have done in this situation? It was impossible to visualize him physically tackling the madman, but it was certainly possible to imagine him working out some kind of subtle trap. For a moment, Richard was with Antonia so vividly that she could almost hear him saying, ‘I’ll teach the sick bastard to frighten you half to death!’ She could see his eyes glowing with fury for the cruel mind that had fashioned the hanging rope and played the other tricks.



Donna was extremely pleased at how well this part of the plan had gone.

It had been quite tricky to set it up–trickier than the cat ploy, which had been a suddenly seen, quickly seized opportunity–and certainly trickier than playing the part of a visitor to Quire last week and unobtrusively placing the Caprice sheet music on the spinet in the hope it would stay there long enough for Weston to find it. But she had managed it and it had worked beautifully.

As she drove away from Quire House, she smiled to think how predictable this murderous bitch actually was, and how predictable she had been all along the way. Even renting Charity Cottage–the cottage that Donna had forced on her, like a conjurer forcing a playing card.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN




The playing card had been prepared a long time ago, of course. Five years ago, to be precise. Quite soon after Antonia’s trial, Donna had quietly and unassumingly set about joining several charity organizations attached to the hospital where Antonia had worked. She used a false name, and explained to people that she had not a great deal of money but that she would like to help.

She had been welcomed enthusiastically of course, and after a year or two she became quite well known for her work. Absolutely tireless, people said. A real godsend to the Friends of the Hospital, to the fund-raising committee for the new scanner, to the campaign for more ICU and HDU beds. Always willing to organize flag days, charity discos, sponsored walks or swims. Pure gold. We’ll have to invite her to a few official things, by way of a thank you.

The invitations to the few official things snowballed–Donna made sure they did–and she got to know people on the hospital’s staff quite well. After a time it was easy to form several convenient friendships with a few of the bitch’s former colleagues. Antonia’s name was quite often mentioned, especially in the first year or so, when people were still in shock. A dreadful thing, they all said. How on earth would she cope with eight years in gaol?

Donna listened politely to this, and to people saying what a loss to the hospital Antonia was and what a good and committed doctor of psychiatry she had been. Great company as well–those terrific supper parties she and Richard used to give, oh dear, life could be so cruel, couldn’t it?

Antonia Weston had not been a good psychiatrist, and Donna did not give a damn if she had been good company or the most boring person in the world. Weston was going to die for what she had done to Don, and she was going to die alone and terrified, as Don had.

Two years later, moving the plan along, Donna took a long lease on Charity Cottage, using the name of Mrs Romero–her grandmother’s maiden name. She posed as a widow, modestly affluent, who travelled a good deal, but who wanted a base in England. She would be at the cottage at infrequent intervals, but would keep the place clean and safe between times. The Quire House Trust had only just been formed and was still in its infancy, so the letting of Charity Cottage was dealt with by agents in Chester who did not care if the place was lived in every day or only an hour every year, providing the rent was paid.

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