Chapter 19

Jean was still acting as sentry when Henry went up to Samantha's office.

"Thanks, Jean," he said. "This is playing havoc with your private life."

"Haven't got much of one to play havoc with at the moment," she smiled back.

"I thought you had a baby daughter."

"Wrong Jean. I had a baby partner but, when he didn't grow up by the age of twenty-seven, I gave him the push."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jean, I've put my foot in it."

"No worry, Henry," she laughed, "but if Samantha doesn't grow up give me a call."

"I think she's pretty grown up now."

"Yeah, so do I. Oh well!"

They both laughed again.

"What about Mr Richards? Is he the one?"

"No. He was put up to it by some guy who works here though. Come in and see if you or Samantha recognise him."

"OK," she smiled. "I'll give you a couple of minutes to recognise each other."

They needed those couple of minutes. Despite an outward calm Samantha was het up. She ran into Henry's arms and held him tight. Neither needed to say a word. He knew her worry and there was nothing he could say to assuage it. He could only hold her and feed her comfort. That worked.

She looked up at him. "Sweets," she whispered, "I love you. You're my strength and my comfort, my most darling man. Today's been horrid, horrid, horrid but you came when I called. You comforted me and gave me strength and now you're back with me giving me love and reassurance. Henry, my precious, I love you. I love you in so many ways: brother, friend, comforter, protector, lover. Oh, my darling, I don't deserve you."

"Yes you do because ... because ... Oh, my darling Sams, because you're you and because you're so brave. A lot of girls would have gone to pieces with what you've gone through since we got engaged, especially with this bloody stalker, but you've never flinched. I know you've hated it but you've been calm and your usual self on the outside. Even to me most of the time. You're very special but then I've always known that. I love you, my darling Sams, and I am very, very proud of you."

She looked up at him and saw the love and compassion in his face and indeed the pride.

"Oh, Henry, my..." and buried her head in his chest. He held her close but gently so.

Jean looked in and then silently withdrew. "Poor lambs," she thought. "So much going for them, so straight and friendly and natural, and then they get all this lot thrown at them. I think I'll just slip away without saying goodbye or trying to identify the bloody man."

When Samantha finally let go of him, Henry stuck his head round the door to find Jean had gone. It did not matter. They could see if she could identify the stalker the next morning. There was no sign of any escorts from a quick glance round either. They set off home.

"Is Richards the one?"

"No. He was asked to 'play a joke' on you but he gave us a description of the guy who put him up to it. He works upstairs in your bank, is in his forties with sandy hair and a huge, gold signet ring. Ring a bell?"

"No. I really don't venture outside investments. The only reason I met Tony Morgan was that I was invited to the chairman's annual bash. I'll bet Jean will know him or if she doesn't she'll soon find him."

They had a quiet, happy evening at home.

The following morning Henry rang his office and left a message for his secretary that he might be up to half an hour late. He then escorted Samantha to work. Jean apologised for not staying the previous evening.

"I didn't want to interrupt or," she added with a sly smile, "miss my beauty sleep."

Samantha blew her a raspberry.

"Anyway what does this stalker look like?"

Henry told her and she shook her head.

"How long can you stay?" she asked him.

"Half an hour at most."

"Give me twenty minutes."

She left the office. "Morgan was in loans," she thought to herself. "That's probably the best bet."

There was a girl in that department she knew. She sought her out.

"Gina," she said. "I had my bum groped in the lift this morning."

"Lucky you!" giggled Gina. "Was he good looking?"

"Not bad but I've never seen him before; sandy hair with an enormous gold ring. He left the lift going in this direction."

"Oh! Oh! Watch him, Jean. He is a groper. His name's Arthur Metcalfe. He and Terry Morgan were mates; a right couple."

"Thanks, Gina. Enough said. He'd better not try it again."

She went back and reported what she had found out. "I can get his address if you want."

"It might help," said Henry. "Let me know. Thanks again, Jean. I must go, my Sams."

He kissed her quickly and was gone.

Jean was as good as her word. Henry's secretary handed him Metcalfe's address and landline and mobile numbers. Henry rang Ged Truesdale and gave him the information.

"Yes, sir. We found his address last night. He went first to a house in Fulham (Ged gave the address) and came out about an hour later with a girl. She didn't walk with him but about a yard behind. He took her home. She left early this morning and was walking pretty gingerly and looking bloody unhappy."

"OK. Well done! I'll pass everything on to Mr Frobisher."

Next he rang Ian and brought him up to date.

"Excellent," said Ian. "I think we've got enough for the police to act. I'll get back to you when I know what they're going to do. It may be a day or two before they actually go into action. It's not as though it's life and death."

"No," said Henry sadly, "but I hope they don't hang about too long. That note in her bag yesterday really upset Samantha."

"I don't blame her, poor girl. As I say, I very much doubt it will be more than a couple of days."

Ian did not ring back that day but matters were precipitated. At half past six the following morning Henry and Samantha's front doorbell rang insistently. Both were up but Samantha was showering and Henry was in his dressing-gown. He answered the door.

Dirk stood there beaming triumphantly. "Good morning, sir," he said. "I think you'll find a note on your mat addressed to Miss Cavendish and we've got the bloke who posted it."

A sandy haired man was standing behind him. Paul Smith had him in an arm lock.

Henry bent, picked up the envelope and opened it. The note inside read:

'Shook you a bit, didn't I, lovely Samantha. Perhaps you realise now that you really are going to be mine. Playtime's nearly over.

The Rover'

His face hardened and he stepped forward.

"Hold on, sir," said Drew. "I know your feelings but knocking the shit out of him won't help you."

Henry stopped in his tracks. He took a deep breath. "Have you called the police?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm not going to ask you to bring him inside."

"I can understand that, sir."

"Right! I'll go and get dressed. Thank you both."

He went back to the bedroom.

"Who was that at this time in the morning?" asked Samantha.

"Harris and Smith with brother Metcalfe. He was posting another note through the door."

Samantha gasped. "They caught him?"

"Red handed. The police are on the way."