any decision about her marriage, that—what? She was staring down the barrel of a gun? That she’d foolishly expected something to crop up, some resolution to present itself, only to find that she was still at square one?
If only she could find the key to the enigma that was Alex Constantin, she thought a little wildly, and walked into the room. The bed was unmade, but otherwise it was fairly tidy. He’d hung up his suit from the night before, his shirt was in the linen basket; only his tie was carelessly discarded over the back of a blue velvet chair. She picked it up and sat down on the bed, running the length of silk through her fingers.
Other than an exquisite pearl shell on the bureau, Alex had brought nothing to this room. No photos or memorabilia from his pre-marriage days. And his study in the apartment was the same. Functional, sometimes untidy, but essentially impersonal—so much so it was she who had added some blown-up photos of the beautiful bays and rivers that housed his pearl farms. Was he just that kind of man or were his treasures and mementoes stored elsewhere? At the Fannie Bay house of his parents? At—she shivered suddenly—a separate residence he maintained for entertaining his mistress?
I won’t do it, she thought abruptly, and got up to hang his tie on the tie rack in his cupboard. I won’t agree to a real marriage with Alex Constantin until I know without doubt that he is…madly in love with me!
She stared at his ties rebelliously, then went to change for her lunch date with his mother.
CHAPTER THREE
FOUR days later Tattie was no further forward in her decision-making process and not sure when to expect Alex back. He’d gone on to Broome, apparently. But she’d kept herself busy, spending most of her days in the legal-aid office where she played the role of receptionist but spent a lot of time listening to other people’s problems and trying to give sound advice.
It was a Wednesday morning before she left for work when she discovered an invitation in her mailbox from a friend who was having an impromptu luncheon at a popular café in Parap that day. It had been hand-delivered. It crossed her mind to wonder why Amy Goodall, whom she’d been to school with in Perth and was now living in Darwin, hadn’t simply rung her, but she shrugged as she tossed the colourful little invitation on the hall table. Amy had always been unconventional and given to springing surprises on people, and an hour of her stimulating company and others’ would be fun.
So she dressed with a little more care than normal for work in a stunningly simple sleeveless white piqué dress, black and white sandals and a loop of black and white beads. She brushed her hair vigorously and drew it back into a white scrunchie, and with a lighter step descended to the garage and her racy little silver Volkswagen Golf convertible.
At twelve-thirty she drove to the Parap shopping centre with its leafy boulevards, parked the Golf under a magnificent poinciana tree and stepped out to be confronted by a man who appeared from nowhere.
‘Mrs Constantin?’
‘Yes,’ Tattie said uncertainly, and with a strange feeling at the pit of her stomach. He was tall, he looked as if he hadn’t shaved for days, and he had angry blue eyes and matted curly hair. He was also completely unknown to her.
‘Just do as I say, Mrs Constantin,’ he recommended, and pulled a small gun from the pocket of his jacket.
Her eyes dilated and her heart leapt into her throat. ‘What on earth—’ she began.
‘Come with me nice and quiet so I don’t have to use this, which I will if I have to.’
‘I…I…’ But as she stammered and felt like fainting he took her elbow in a hard grasp and began to lead her towards a battered utility parked two spots away from the Golf.
She stumbled and tried to pull her elbow free but he growled an obscenity into her ear. She sucked some air into her lungs and opened her mouth to scream, but she felt the gun poke into her waist—and nothing came out of her mouth. Then all hell broke loose.
A car screeched to a halt in the middle of the road only a few feet from them—a blue Jaguar—and Alex jumped out without bothering to switch off the engine.
Her attacker immediately pulled her in front of him and swore viciously but Tattie buckled at the knees, wrenched her elbow free and threw herself sideways. Alex leapt on the man and punched him to the ground in a hail of devastating blows.
Tattie got to her knees as they rolled away from her, saw the gun on the ground and fell on it, but her assailant was no match for Alex—he was being mercilessly subdued in a show of brute strength that made Tattie blink. Then there were sirens and police swarming around them. Finally Alex, still breathing heavily, was helping her to her feet.
‘What…? I don’t understand… Oh, you’re bleeding!’
‘It’s nothing, Tattie. Are you OK?’
‘Yes, I think so, but…why…what?’ she gasped.
He held her close for a moment then said gently, ‘Come, I’ll explain when we get home.’
Three policeman had accompanied them and now listened intently to Alex’s explanation.
‘When I got home today I noticed this invitation on the hall table.’ He lifted Amy’s colourful little card. ‘But it so happens I ran into Amy Goodall at the airport this morning and we had a bit of a chat. I was on my way home from Broome, she was on her way to Sydney, so it made no sense that she would be inviting my wife to lunch today. I also noticed that the invitation had been hand-delivered.’ He proffered the envelope. ‘And it occurred to me that someone might have deliberately lured my wife out on a false pretext.’
Tattie made a strange little sound of disbelief.
‘And that’s when you rang us,’ the detective in charge murmured. ‘Only you got there before us. Mrs Constantin, did you recognise the man at all?’
‘No! I’ve never seen him before.’
‘Did you find this invitation at all strange?’
Tattie shrugged. ‘I wondered why she hadn’t rung, that’s all. But she is that kind of person, prone to springing surprises.’
‘So it would be fair to say the gentleman we’ve taken into custody must be aware of Miss Goodall’s quirks. How well do you know her, incidentally, Mrs Constantin?’
Tattie told him.
‘And you don’t think she could have had anything to do with this?’
‘Good heavens, no! Anyway, she’s on her way down south.’
‘Yes,’ the detective said thoughtfully, and looked at Alex. ‘The obvious thing that springs to mind is kidnapping for ransom.’
Tattie gasped, and if she hadn’t already been sitting down would have collapsed.
Alex said then, ‘I think my wife has had enough for the moment.’
As soon as the police had left, Tattie said one of the sillier things she’d ever said as she looked at Alex wide-eyed and still stunned.
‘Why would anyone want to kidnap me?’
He
