Children don’t understand very much at that age, but they’re very quick to feel resentment of the person they feel was responsible. She didn’t see Father again until apparently a few months ago. I’d say she’d had sentimental dreams of being her father’s companion and the apple of his eye. She got disillusioned apparently.
Father came back with a wife, a new young attractive wife. She’s not called Louise, is she?… Oh well, I only asked. I’m giving you roughly the picture, the general picture, that is.” The voice at the other end of the wire said sharply, “What is that you say? Say it again.” “I said I’m giving you roughly the picture.” There was a pause.
“By the way, here’s one little fact might interest you. The girl made a rather hamhanded attempt to commit suicide. Does that startle you.
“Oh, it doesn’t… No, she didn’t swallow the aspirin bottle, or put her head in the gas oven. She rushed into the traffic in the path of a Jaguar going faster than it should have done… I can tell you I only got to her just in time… Yes, I’d say it was a genuine impulse… She admitted it.
Usual classic phrase — she ‘wanted to get out of it all’.” He listened to a rapid flow of words, then he said: “I don’t know. At this stage, I can’t be sure — The picture presented is clear. A nervy girl, neurotic and in an overwrought state from taking drugs of too many kinds. No, I couldn’t tell you definitely what kind. There are dozens of these things going about all producing slightly different effects. There can be confusion, loss of memory, aggression, bewilderment, or sheer fuzzleheadedness!
The difficulty is to tell what the real reactions are as opposed to the reactions produced by drugs. There are two choices, “ou see. Either this is a girl who is playing herself up, depicting herself as neurotic and nervy and claiming suicidal tendencies.
It could be actually so. Or it could be a whole pack of lies. I wouldn’t put it past her to be putting up this story for some obscure reason of her own — wanting to give an entirely false impression of herself.
If so, she’s doing it very cleverly. Every now and then, there seems something not quite right in the picture she’s giving. Is she a very clever little actress acting a part?
Or is she a genuine semi-moronic suicidal victim? She could be either… What did you say?… Oh, the Jaguar!… Yes, it was being driven far too fast. You think it mightn’t have been an attempt at suicide?
That the Jaguar was deliberately meaning to run her down P” He thought for a minute or two. “I can’t say,” he said slowly. “It just could be so.
Yes, it could be so, but I hadn’t thought of it that way. The trouble is, everything’s possible, isn’t it? Anyway, I’m going to get more out of her shortly. I’ve got her in a position where she’s semi-willing to trust me, so long as I don’t go too far too quickly, and make her suspicious. She’ll become more trusting soon, and tell me more, and if she’s a genuine case, she’ll pour out her whole story to me — force it on me in the end. At the moment she’s frightened of something.
“If, of course, she’s leading me up the garden path we’ll have to find out the reason why. She’s at Kenway Court and I think she’ll stay there. I’d suggest that you keep someone with an eye on it for a day or so and if she does attempt to leave, someone she doesn’t know by sight had better follow her.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ANDREW RESTARICK was writing a cheque — he made a slight grimace as he did so.
His office was large and handsomely furnished in typical conventional tycoon fashion — the furnishing and fittings had been Simon Restarick’s and Andrew Restarick had accepted them without interest and had made few changes except for removing a couple of pictures and replacing them by his own portrait which he had brought up from the country, and a water colour of Table Mountain.