Brought to Book by Anthea Fraser Page A

going.’ He took it from her and set off down the stairs to the kitchen. After a moment she followed him. He was at the sink, filling the kettle.
    â€˜I bought some crumpets,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘They’re in the bread bin. Pop them in the toaster, will you, while I make the tea.’
    She did so, then took Gus’s towel off its hook and belatedly rubbed him down. Normally in such weather he waited on the door mat until his paws had been cleaned, but today they’d both been preoccupied. Which doubtless meant a trail of muddy paw-prints on the carpet.
    Hot tea and butter-soaked crumpets were a welcome antidote to a disturbing afternoon. ‘I’ll light the sitting-room fire,’ Max said, ‘and we can have a cosy evening.’ He watched as Rona wiped her buttery fingers. ‘On reflection, it might be wise to choose a different route for your walk for the next week or so.’
    She looked up with a frown. ‘Why? I’m not going to let him scare me off. Anyway, if he
is
following me, he’ll go wherever I go.’
    â€˜Then just be sensible and avoid deserted places. Almost certainly this was a one-off, and having created alarm and despondency, I imagine he’s well satisfied. Anonymous letter-writers seldom put their threats into effect – and in any case, this wasn’t a threat so much as a piece of advice. Which,’ he added humorously, ‘you might remember I gave you myself.’
    â€˜Well, it’s too late now,’ Rona said firmly. ‘The contract is signed, the advance on its way, and I can hardly write to Jennings and say, “I’ve changed my mind because someone tucked a note in my dog’s collar.” I’d never get another commission in my life. All the same,’ she added diffidently, not looking at him, ‘I’d rather you didn’t mention this to anyone, especially the parents. They’d only panic.’
    â€˜Panic is preferable to foolhardiness. Just remember that.’
    The subject wasn’t mentioned again. They had their lazy evening in front of the fire, thick curtains blotting out the wet and windy night, and Rona, curled up in her chair, made a start on reading
Game for Fools
.
    Since noticing the sameness in Harvey’s heroes, she’d been faintly irritated to find that versions appeared in all but two of the books she’d read so far. He might almost have been a series character, except that his appearance, age and occupation varied from book to book, as, of course, did his name. And here he was again, his loud blustering masking his basic insecurity. Again she wondered if it could in any way be a self-portrait.
    â€˜Ah!’ she said aloud, in the middle of chapter four. ‘The code has reared its ugly head.’
    Max looked up. ‘Does it look complicated?’
    â€˜Incomprehensible, but I’m not going to waste time on it, since, as you said, it will be explained in the end.’
    â€˜How many books have you left to read?’
    â€˜Just the last two,
Dark Moon Rising
and
The Raptor.
I read them when they came out and created such a furore, but I’ll need to go through them again, making notes and so on.’
    â€˜And looking for clues?’
    â€˜Yes; I only wish I knew what of.’
    â€˜Well,’ Max observed, ‘with these interviews you have lined up, perhaps by this time next week you’ll have a better idea.’
    Sunday passed without incident. The skies lightened, and though still cloudy, the rain held off. At Rona’s insistence, they again went up to the park, and though they stayed for some time, throwing the ball for Gus in various directions and walking round the clump of trees, nothing untoward occurred.
    â€˜I never thought it would,’ Rona commented when, on the way home, Max remarked on the fact. ‘Going there today was by way of getting back on the horse after falling off. As far as our