This Way for a Shroud

"Yes. She doesn't say anything, but since you've been away she seems depressed and nervy. If anyone knocks on the door, she nearly jumps out of her skin. She's been brooding too, and she doesn't seem to settle to anything. I've noticed it before, but I think it's getting worse."

Conrad lit a cigarette.

"It's pretty extraordinary she's been as calm as she has been. Time's running out. She has a horrible experience before her."

"Yes, of course she has, but I think there's more to it than that. I think she's brooding about Weiner. She was never completely convinced that he died accidentally."

"I thought she had got over that."

"I'm afraid she hasn't."

"Who's with her now?"

"Van."

"I'll talk to her," Conrad said, realizing this might be the opportunity he was waiting for. If he could only break down the barrier. If he could only get her on his side and keep her there.

He went along to Frances's room, noting the alertness of the four guards who paced the long corridor. He paused outside the door, tapped and entered.

Van and the two police women were reading novels. Frances stood before the open bay window that overlooked the sea.

She didn't look around when Conrad came in. He made a sign to the others to leave. When they had gone, he shut the door and joined Frances at the window.

Far below was the rock-strewn beach. The tide was going out and the stretch

of sand was golden in the sunshine.

"I bet you'd give anything for a swim," he said quietly. "It worries me that you have to be cooped up here. Are you getting restless?"

She shook her head, not looking at him.

"No, I don't mind," she said indifferently.

"I've been thinking about you, Frankie," he said after a long pause. "Have you thought at all what you are going to do after the trial?"

"There doesn't seem much point in thinking about that," she returned in a flat tired voice.

"Why do you say that ?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? Pete said they would never let me give evidence, so why should I bother to think of the future?"

He stared at her.

"For goodness sake, Frankie! You mustn't talk like that! You're safe here. No one can get near you, and you'll be safe at the trial."

"Am I safe?" she asked, leaning out of the window to look down at the golden sands. "You said Pete would be safe, and yet he's dead."

"I wouldn't be talking to you the way I am talking if I thought for one moment you weren't safe," he said quietly.

She looked round quickly, her eyes searching his face.

"I don't understand . . ."

"No, I guess you don't." He moved away from her. "I promise you no one will touch you. I give you my word."

She turned so her back was to the window and watched him as he moved slowly about the room. There was an interested and puzzled expression in her eyes.

"You've got to get this idea that Maurer is a superman out of your mind," Conrad went on. "I don't say he won't try to get at you, he will, but I assure you he won't succeed. This place is too well guarded. There's nothing I haven't thought of." He stopped and faced her. "You don't know how I've sweated on this thing. Don't you feel safe?"

"No."

"Tell me why you don't."

"I can't forget what Pete said." She sat down abruptly. "I wish now I hadn't told you what happened. Pete said no power on earth could save me if I told you. He said no power on earth could save him either, and he's dead." An hysterical note crept into her voice. "Pete said his time was running out. My time's running out too! He said Maurer could buy any of the policemen who guarded him. How do I know Maurer hasn't bought those women who stay with me?"

Conrad was both startled and shocked to learn how her mind was working.

"You must stop talking like this." He went to her and caught hold of her arms. "Look at me, Frankie. I love you. Can't you see I love you? I promise you you're safe. I promise you there's nothing to worry about." She was staring at him.

"You love me? You? I didn't think . . . I had no idea."

"I don't suppose you had," Conrad said quietly. "I didn't intend to tell you, but I can't have you thinking you're not safe. You're more precious to me than my own life. You don't have to be scared of Madge or the other two. They're all right. Honest, they won't let anyone near you, nor will I."

She pulled away from him.

"But how can you love me?" she said, half to herself. "You know about me. You can't love me."

"Now look, Frankie, you've got to stop this nonsense. You're not to blame for what your father did, and you've got to stop believing you are."

She looked at him, her eyes shadowy with bitterness.

"So easy to talk," she said. "So very easy to talk. You don't know what it is like to have people point at you, to whisper about you, to pull their children out of your way. You don't know what it is like to be hunted by a screaming, infuriated mob as I was hunted the night they killed my father. And now it's going to start all over again. What a fool I was to have told you anything! What a stupid fool I was!"

He knelt beside her.