Dark Room

by Minette Walters

  "Presumably there's a cheaper version in plastic which your father's employees use."

  "I suppose there may be. I've never seen one, though. Betty always told me she thought this up for herself. She wanted something unique to the five of us." She frowned suddenly. "Why do you want to know?"

  Blake debated with herself. "Oh, what the hell!" she said suddenly. "I guess Flossie got it wrong again." She sighed as heavily as Jinx had done. "One of the reasons we thought your brother was involved in the assault on Flossie Hale was because she said her attacker had a key ring just like this. She remembered it because the initials were the same as hers, and when we showed her the Franchise Holdings logo, she identified it immediately. So we then showed her a photograph of your two brothers, and she picked out Miles. I accept she made a mistake over that, but she is adamant this morning that this, or one exactly like it, is the key ring the man was carrying." She shrugged. "I'm sorry. It looks like I've wasted your time."

  "Have you made that public?" asked Jinx, in a detached tone of voice, as though she didn't care what the answer was.

  "About the key ring? No. It's been a low-priority investigation because the prostitutes didn't want to talk."

  "What are the chances of this man still having the key ring on him?"

  "Pretty good, I would think."

  Jinx closed her eyes suddenly, and Blake thought she saw tears on the lashes. "I gave mine away," she said in an unsteady voice. "I didn't think there was much to celebrate, not after my father lost his temper. In any case, he paid for it, and I made a vow a long time ago never to accept anything from him again." She pressed her fingertips to her eyelids before lowering them to look at the young policewoman. "The irony is, when I gave it away I said 'I hope it brings you luck.' " She ran her tongue round dry lips. "But I think the luck must have stayed with me."

  "Who did you give it to, Miss Kingsley?"

  "A vicar. He's Anglo-Catholic and he said the F could stand for Father. Father Harris. He has a parish in a village called Frampton. He's better-looking than Miles," she said in a strained voice, "but they aren't unalike. Simon's thinner and not so dark. His sister confused them once, so you mustn't blame the prostitutes for getting it wrong."

  Blake listened to the tremors in her voice. "Would the sister be Meg Harris? Your friend who was murdered?"

  "Yes."

  "Did this Simon have something to do with that?"

  Jinx's eyes grew huge. "I think I'm going to be sick," she said. "I'm so sorry."

  Blake moved her feet rapidly as vomit sprayed across the carpet.

  THE VICARAGE, FRAMPTON, HAMPSHIRE-12:25 P.M.

  Blake drew to a halt beside the other police car and switched off her engine. "What's going on?" she called to a uniformed copper by the front door. "Is the vicar in there?"

  "Not as far as I know."

  "Do you know where he is?"

  "Last I heard, he was stinking to high heaven of roast pork on Stoney Bassett airfield."

  To whom it may concern:

  I don't believe in God but I have stood with the Host in my hand every Sunday and professed belief on behalf of others. I wonder sometimes if it would have been different if I had believed, but I don't think so. If God exists, He had no power to change what He had ordained, that I must be brother to Meg. There is no greater torment than to love a woman you can't have.

  People will say I am mad. Perhaps I am. Yet it's a strange madness that brings meaning to the actions men say are wicked and confusion to those they condone. They say I'm a good priest, yet I stumble in black night before the altar of God's flesh and blood, and only see clearly when Man's flesh and blood is warm between my hands. Then I understand that sacrifice is necessary if the dark rooms of the mind are to be cleansed, for purpose takes over and what I do becomes inevitable. I am alive. I see truth.

  It starts again CONFUSION

  Meg became a WHORE but I knew why and forgave her. She said, better a generous whore than a spiteful wife. She was open and honest and hid nothing from me. There was no love only physical gratification and excitement, until

  SECRECY

  terrible uncertainty - where is god - god sleeps - but not Russell. Russell laughs and his laugh breaks into my head, smashing my brains - smashing - smashing Meg loves

  russell simon hates god

  Remembering is painful. I understand why Jinx prefers to forget. I have always hated Jinx. She made Meg jealous. What were Leo and Russell to my sister till Jinx made them desirable? Nothing. Little men of little worth, unJinxed. She turned them into gods and sent them back to Meg. With Jinx there is always

  secrecy & SPITE unJinxed Meg is an honest whore

  confusion again. Awful, terrible danger danger danger forget, forget whores young whores old whores You're wicked where's my hairbrush naughty boy smack smack I hope that hurts don't you look at your sister like that again wicked

  wicked wicked

  Where are they? Not in Hammersmith. The birds have flown because Jinx made them it was a SECRET but simon made Jinx tell kill kill kill - no WEAPON

  god loves Jinx - miracles for her not for simon

  she is SAVED

  she follows simon to leo's house and simon says god's will be done amen But why does god save Jinx? Three times simon tried to kill her and three times god saved her. He didn't save Meg or Leo. They tried to save themselves with

  lies

  you don 't want the cat to die, Simon you love the cat let me go to hammersmith and feed the cat let the cat live the cat's imprisoned she means leo leo's imprisoned in simon's boot dead already like jinx imprisoned in a box in chelsea, buried alive in her coffin, dead if Meg disobeys

  no one sees no one hears she begs for life too late too late please SIMON pretty please simon

  simon says NO

  forget forget forget forget forget forget forget forget

  forget

  simon says sorry

  epilogue

  FRIDAY, 1st JULY, THE NIGHTINGALE CLINIC, SALISBURY-11:00 A.M.

  Detective Superintendent Cheever and DS Fraser waited in silence while Jinx read the letter that Simon Harris had left behind on his desk before setting out to take his own life. It was a chilling document, not least because the sickness it revealed was echoed nowhere else in his house, except perhaps in a single cassock which, although it had been cleaned, still showed positive where blood had splattered the front. Despite this and the letter, however, there was considerable unease about Simon's suicide, particularly in respect of the open petrol cans that had turned his car into a fireball, destroying all chance of forensic analysis, and the extraordinary order in his life that was in such contrast to the apparent disorder in his mind.

  The police had not been able to discover a single parishioner in Frampton who found their vicar's homicidal tendencies even halfway credible. "He was a sweet man." "Nothing was ever much trouble for him." "Father Harris wouldn't hurt a fly." "He was the hardest-working priest we've ever had."

  There was circumstantial evidence to show that he had been absent from the vicarage from lunchtime on Sunday, June 12, to the morning of Tuesday, June 14, but it hardly stood up to close scrutiny. "I noticed Simon's car wasn't outside on the Sunday or Monday night," said his next-door neighbor, "but he used to park it in his garage sometimes, so it may have been in there. I don't remember seeing him after morning service, but that wasn't unusual. We're busy people and we don't keep track of each other's movements. The car was certainly there on Tuesday morning. I had a form for him to sign and I had to walk round it to reach the front door. No, I didn't notice anything odd about him. He was in his usual good spirits."

  Caroline Harris, quite destroyed by the disasters that had overtaken her family, swore that Simon had been with her and Charles on the Sunday and Monday night. She also claimed that he had been staying with them on June 27th when Dr. Protheroe was attacked. But when her husband was asked later to corroborate these stories he shook his head. "No," he said quietly, "I'm afra
id neither is true." He had read his son's letter without obvious emotion and handed it back to Cheever with a request that his wife should never see it. "I blame myself," he said. "I should have realized how damaging it was to grow up in a house where the sexual act was viewed as something degrading and disgusting. Selfishly, I thought it was only I who was affected, but clearly. Meg confused it with love and Simon confused it with hate."

  To begin with, Flossie Hale and Samantha Garrison were doubtful that Simon was the man who assaulted them. "He didn't wear glasses, you see," said Flossie, studying the photograph of the earnest young vicar, "and he was better-looking." But when shown a snapshot of a younger, smiling Simon minus spectacles and in casual clothes, they were more confident. "Little Lord Fauntleroy," said Flossie triumphantly, "and he's not so different from the first one I picked out either. Same eyes. It's the innocence. Gawd, I'll remember never to be taken in by pretty blue eyes again."

  DI Maddocks was liaising with the Metropolitan police in an attempt to discover whether any London prostitutes had suffered assaults similar to Kale's and Garrison's during the five years that Simon had worked there. If they could establish a prolonged pattern of criminal assault on prostitutes, it would ease police doubts over the meager evidence pointing to Simon's involvement in the murders of Landy, Wallader, and Harris. For, as Maddocks said to Cheever when he'd read Simon's letter: "Someone beat the crap out of him to make him write this, sir. It's got bloodstains on it."

  Frank watched Jinx lower the letter to her knees. "As you see, Miss Kingsley," he said, "there are one or two questions left unanswered. We're still looking for the weapon, but there was a cassock in his house that appears to have bloodstains on it. However it will be some time before we can say definitely that the blood was Meg's and Leo's. The likely scenario is that he removed the cassock after he killed your two friends, which would explain why we had no reported sightings of someone wearing bloodstained clothes. We believe he probably used the same method to kill your husband-donned his cassock, in other words, to keep the blood off his clothes." She looked paler and more drawn than ever, he thought, and the hand that held the letter shook violently. "I don't wish to upset you further, but we would be grateful for any details you can give us."

  She glanced towards Alan Protheroe for support, then nodded. "Perhaps we could begin with Saturday, the eleventh of June, the day you phoned your father to tell him the wedding was off. Do you remember that day, Miss Kingsley?''

  "Most of it, yes."

  "Do you remember going to Meg's flat in the evening and being angry when she or Leo opened the door to you?"

  Jinx nodded.

  "Could you tell me about that? We assume they were supposed to be long gone, so what made you think they were still there? Why did you go?"

  "To collect Marmaduke and take him home with me," she simply. "I couldn't believe it when I saw Leo's car parked outside. I was furious." Tears welled in her eyes. "I'd gone to so much trouble and they just thought I was being paranoid."

  "So you had a key to Meg's flat?"

  She shook her head. "I was supposed to collect it from the neighbor. But I could see Leo in the sitting room, so I hammered on the door instead and let rip at them." She dabbed miserably at her eyes. "I wish I hadn't now. It was the last time I really spoke to either of them and I was so bad-tempered. You see, I knew they were in danger. I had this feeling all the time that something terrible was going to happen."

  Frank waited a moment till he felt she was back in control ol herself. "What happened then?"

  "Meg gave me this big spiel about Josh and how badly she was behaving towards him. She said it was my fault, that I was using Russell's murder as a stick to beat her and Leo with because I wanted to make life as uncomfortable for them as I could. We really did have an awful row." She looked at her hands. "Well, that's not relevant anymore. I bullied them into going to Leo's house in Chelsea until Monday. I said at least they'd be safer there than in Hammersmith because I was the only other person who knew the address."

  "Did they go?"

  "Yes."

  "What time was that?"

  "I think it was around midnight. Meg insisted on leaving the flat spick-and-span so that prospective purchasers wouldn't be put off when they went round it."

  "So she was selling it?"

  "Yes," said Jinx again. "I was going to put it with an estate agent as soon as they left for France. That was part of the deal. Meg's business needed an injection of cash, and I promised to try and raise it through the sale of her flat if she and Leo would agree to make themselves scarce for a while. The plan was for me to explain it to Josh after they'd left"-she faltered-"but Meg got cold feet when she spoke to him on the phone on the Saturday, and decided to postpone the trip so she could tell him in person." She licked the tears from her lips. "Josh threatened to pull out of the partnership unless she gave him a few guarantees about her commitment, and they'd been going through such a rough patch recently that she believed he'd do it unless she took the trouble to calm him down."

  Frank studied her bent head curiously. "I have some problems understanding why they were prepared to go along with all the secrecy, Miss Kingsley, particularly if, as you say, they thought you were being paranoid."

  She stared at him rather bleakly for a moment. "Meg had done the dirty on me twice. She was in no real position to argue. In any case, Leo was on my side. He was cock-a-hoop about being in France when the news broke. The last thing he wanted was to face the embarrassment of a canceled wedding. He'd have gone immediately if Meg had been free to leave."

  "Why wasn't she?"

  "She had a client she didn't want to lose, and a couple of meetings with the bank manager. She said he'd pull the plug on the business if she tried to cancel them. The earliest she could was the eleventh." She fell silent.

  "Then she reneged at the last minute?"

  Jinx nodded. "She only agreed to go along with it in the first place because Leo was in favor, but the minute Josh came down on her like a ton of bricks she dug her heels in, kept calling me neurotic and absurd." The tears ran down her cheeks again. "I think she wanted to say she was sorry afterwards, but she was too afraid of Simon to look at me. It was very sad."

  "I understand." He waited again. "So they left for Chelsea at about midnight on the Saturday? Are you sure they went there?"

  "Oh, yes. I followed them. Leo parked in the garage, and I watched them both go inside. Then I went home."

  "What about the cat? What happened to him?"

  "We stuck with the original plan, but delayed it until Monday. We left poor old Marmaduke in the hall with some food and the cat tray, but he was only going to be there for thirty-six hours at the most. I would collect the key from the neighbor, rescue Marmaduke, and explain about the flat going on the market. Meg was apposed to call them the minute she got to France, tell them I was kosher and ask them to let me in."

  "But why was it so necessary to keep Mr. and Mrs. Helms in the dark?" asked Fraser. "You can't have suspected them of being involved in Russell's death."

  "Of course not." There was a long silence. "I thought it was my father we needed to be afraid of," she said at last, "and I couldn't be sure how much he already knew about Leo and Meg's affair. I know he found out about Meg and Russell, because Miles told me afterwards. That's one of the reasons I thought he might have had Russell killed." She rubbed her head. "Leo swore his parents wouldn't have said a word to anyone, but"-she raised her hands in a small gesture of helplessness-"Adam has a way of finding out. If Mr. and Mrs. Helms knew anything in advance, they would tell the first person who asked them. In fact, Meg said it was worse, that Mrs. Helms wouldn't wait to be asked, she'd stand on the street corner and broadcast it to the world."

  "Why weren't you worried about Leo parking his car in Shoebury Terrace if you thought your father was having him and Meg waitched?" asked the Superintendent.

  She lifted her head to look at him and for the first time he understood some of the ag
onies she had been through. "I was. I tried to persuade him to leave it in Richmond but he wouldn't go along with it. He said that was taking the whole thing to ridiculous lengths. But you see, I knew what had been done to Russell and they didn't. I spent a nightmare week at the Hall, worrying myself sick. I made Leo phone every day to let me know they were all right and to make my family think everything was normal. Then he phoned on the Friday afternoon to say they were leaving thing the next morning, and it was safe to come back and make the announcements. And I thought, thank God, it's all over-I've made a complete idiot of myself, but I don't care." She held a handkerchief to her eyes. "I can't explain it because I don't believe in second sight or precognition, but I knew the minute Leo told me he wanted to marry Meg that they were going to die. It was like having cold water thrown over me." She looked wretchedly towards Alan. "So I put two and two together and came up with Adam, and if I hadn't, then maybe, just maybe, they'd still be alive."

  "No," he said. "It would have made no difference. At least Adam was a terrifying enough prospect to force them to listen to you. They'd have been dead a week earlier otherwise."

  She held out Simon's letter. "Except that I made them keep the secret," she said, "and that's why he killed them. It was the secrecy that made him do it."

  "No," said Alan, who had read the letter before he took the two policemen to Jinx's room. "He was a very disturbed man. Jinx. It was his illness that made him do it, and nothing you could have done would have stopped that."

  "The doctor's right, Miss Kingsley," said Superintendent Cheever. "The only person who might have guessed that Simon murdered Russell was Meg. She was closer to him than anyone else, in all conscience. If it never occurred to her to be afraid of him, then there's no reason why it should have occurred to you." He paused. "Did she ever show any fear of him?"