Dagger Magic

She sighed wistfully. "What with all the clutter of paints and glue pots and half-finished projects lying about, the place usually looked as if it had been hit by a cyclone. On top of that, Claire kept a virtual menagerie of small pets for the children - cats, budgies, guinea pigs, gerbils, goldfish - you name it. Back then, the house was always messy. But it was a lively, happy mess, and I rather liked it."

"What did she do with all the animals?" McLeod asked.

Ishbel turned her gaze his way. "She gave them away to various play groups and schools round about. All except the cats. Funny, they're the only things she's kept, when nothing else about the house has been allowed to remain the same. The way this room looks now is very neat and pretty, I suppose, but I can't say I feel at home in it."

"Sometimes it takes a while for a newly furnished room to look lived in," Adam remarked, the casual lightness of his tone masking the intensity of his interest in Ishbel's revelations. "I have no doubt that once your sister-in-law has had time to get a few more of her own things out of storage, the place will start to seem more familiar. It's been my experience that even so small an addition as a photo or two can sometimes make all the difference."

Ishbel's soft lips tightened. "I wouldn't even dare to suggest such a thing to Claire. After the accident, she asked me to gather up all the photographs in the house and put them in a suitcase. I thought she wanted to take them away with her to Stoke-Mandville, but it turned out that wasn't it at all. When I presented her with the case, she just stared at it for a long moment. Then she ordered me to take it out and have it burnt."

"Indeed?" Only Adam's rigorously acquired self-discipline prevented him from reacting outwardly. Keeping his voice studiously devoid of expression, he asked, "And did you?"

Ishbel gave him a swift, searching look. Apparently satisfied by what she saw, she allowed herself a small, strained smile and shook her head.

"No, I didn't. But please don't let Claire know. When I asked why she wanted me to do that, she claimed it was because she wanted to put the past completely behind her, but it seemed to me that it was a decision she might later regret. So instead of packing the suitcase off to the incinerator, I stowed it away in the loft at my house. I hope the time will come someday when she can deal with the memories of her life before the accident. And if that time comes, some part of her previous life will still be waiting for her to reclaim it."

"I share your hopes," Adam said gently. "And your secret is safe with us, I promise. When that time comes, I'm sure your sister-in-law will thank you for not acting in accordance with her wishes."

"I hope you're right," Ishbel said. "It's been almost a year now, and so far she's shown no sign of changing her mind. But maybe if the police could catch the man who did this to her, and she could feel that justice had been done…"

"Believe me, Mrs. Reid," McLeod, "we're as eager as you are to see justice done. May we see her now?"

"Of course."

So saying, she led them on through the dining area into the kitchen, from which a small glass-walled conservatory gave access to an outdoor patio set with paving slabs. The garden beyond was large, fenced in on either side, with a high hedge at the back. The view beyond the hedge was partly screened by the spreading branches of two sturdy-looking apple trees that had been planted in opposite corners of the yard.

A paved path, wide enough for a wheelchair, extended out from the patio to a small arbor laced over with close-clipped tendrils of honeysuckle. At the end of the path, parked in the sun beside an ornamental fishpool, a figure in a wheelchair sat with head slightly bowed. The face in profile was that of Tom Lennox's phantom lady. Her nearer hand was moving slightly, scratching the ears of a large grey and white cat draped across her rug-covered lap. Her wide-open gaze appeared to be fixed on nothing in particular.

At the sound of footsteps on the path, the cat started up and made a bound for the nearest patch of shrubbery. Roused from her private reverie, Claire turned her head. A stony expression descended over her features as she caught sight of her sister-in-law and the two visitors, warning Adam that he and McLeod were likely to have their afternoon's work cut out for them.

"You weren't asleep, were you, Claire?" Ishbel asked, summoning a determined smile. ' 'These gentlemen are from the police. This is Detective Chief Inspector McLeod, and this is Dr. Sinclair, his associate. They want to talk with you about the accident."