Errors of Judgment(111)

‘She didn’t show up at college today, no one’s seen or heard from her,’ said Leo. ‘I need to know more about Saturday night. After the incident, I take it the police were called?’

‘No. That is, Caspar Egan, the chap who runs Blunt’s, was all set to call them, but when I spoke to Edward the next day he said the Saudis persuaded him not to, paid everyone off to try and hush it up. I don’t know how it was done. I’d left before it happened.’

‘So Gabrielle thought the police were going to be called?’

‘I suppose so,’ said Anthony slowly. ‘I don’t know. You think that’s why she left? But where could she possibly have gone if she didn’t go home, or to her parents?’

‘I think I have an idea. At any rate, don’t worry. No need to post her as a missing person just yet. I’ll call her mother.’ Leo rose and went to the door. He paused and turned. ‘Look, I realise what I’ve told you has come as a shock. It’s going to be hard for you to get your head around, but it will sort itself out in time. It’s just a question of recognising priorities, making things work.’

Anthony sat back in his chair and gazed at Leo, then nodded, his face expressionless.

Leo went back to his room and called Jacqueline.

‘I’ve spoken to Anthony. He hasn’t heard from Gabrielle either. Apparently there was some trouble at whatever party they were at, and there was an idea the police were going to be called. They weren’t, as it happens, but I think for some reason the possibility scared her, and she took off.’ Leo was on his laptop, tapping at the keys as he talked.

‘But why would she do that? And where would she go? If she was frightened for whatever reason, surely she would come to us. Why would she be scared of the police? What kind of trouble was there at the party?’

‘Some man attacked a girl. I really don’t know the full story, and I don’t know why Gabrielle should be scared, but if she was, I have an idea where she might have gone. I bought a place in Antibes recently, and I took her down there to look at it and help me furnish it. If for whatever reason she’s taken fright, she may well have gone there.’

‘Leo, I want to call the police. Daniel doesn’t know about any of this – that no one’s seen or heard from her in two days – and I have to tell him.’

‘Will you give me a few hours, Jackie? Because if there was a reason why she was afraid of the police, it might not be a good idea to call them just yet.’

‘But what if you go to France and she isn’t there? Then we’ve wasted time!’

Leo tapped again at the keyboard. ‘I’ve been looking up flights to Nice, and there’s one in three hours. If I catch that, I’ll be down there by eleven, with the time difference. It’s only a fifteen-minute drive to Antibes. I’ll ring you as soon as I get to the apartment. If she isn’t there, then you can call the police. OK?’

There was a brief silence. ‘All right. If you really think that’s where she’s gone—’

‘I do. I could be wrong, but if I am, we’ll know in a matter of hours. OK?’

He had been making the booking as he spoke, and when she rang off he completed it, checked in, and printed off the boarding card. He glanced at his watch. It was half five now, and his car was parked at the end of King’s Bench Walk. Driving to Gatwick should take no more than an hour and a half, rush hour traffic permitting, which would be about right. He closed his laptop, tidied away his papers, put on his jacket and overcoat, and hurried down to the clerks’ room.

‘Felicity, I need you to cancel tomorrow morning’s ten o’clock con with Peter Jago and rearrange it for later this week. Apologise to him, tell him I’ll buy him a drink. Then – and I need you to listen carefully – I want you to go onto a car rental website and book a hire car that I can pick up at Nice airport at eleven o’clock tonight. Any car, don’t worry about the cost, just get me one. Then find me a room in a hotel in Antibes, and text me the name and location. In return, I shall take you out to lunch. I may not be back in the office till Wednesday morning.’

Hurrying out, Leo almost collided with Henry in the doorway, and flung him a hasty apology.

‘What’s his hurry?’ asked Henry.

‘Don’t ask me,’ replied Felicity. ‘All I know is he’s catching a flight to Nice in a couple of hours, and I’ve got to book him a hire car and a hotel room for the night.’

‘Man of mystery.’ Henry shook his head. He glanced at an oblong cardboard box lying on Felicity’s desk. ‘Looks exciting.’