‘When would this have been?’
‘About ten-thirty.’
‘You asked him to stay in the house after ten-thirty yet you want us to believe nothing happened between you? You’re either a very silly woman, Mrs Kremayne, or else are pleased to believe us very silly.’
‘I can’t help what you think; we didn’t do anything more than talk and have a meal.’
‘From ten-thirty until midnight?’
‘Yes.’
‘You must have found a very great deal in common. What did you talk about? The price of cabbages and the abdication of kings? Or is the truth that you were upstairs making love, spitting in your husband’s bed?’
‘We weren’t … That’s not true; we weren’t.’
‘When did you first fall in love with Blayne Rusk?’
‘I wasn’t in love with him.’
‘And are you now?’
She looked across the court at Rusk. ‘Perhaps we won’t force you to answer that. How soon after your husband returned from France did you tell him you’d entertained Rusk to dinner?’
‘I didn’t.’ She spoke very wearily.
Steine looked immensely surprised, as though this was the one answer he had not expected. ‘You and Rusk have a meal late at night, he stays on until midnight, then, when your husband returns …’
The cross-examination continued. Every action of Anne Kremayne’s was made to carry a double meaning.
*
Rusk was in the witness-box, suffering cross-examination.
He looked at Kremayne. Kremayne kept leaning over and talking to Steine’s junior, and the latter was not being very clever at concealing his impatience.
Anne Rremayne, sitting behind Peace, was staring at him in a way that made him ache with useless anger. They’d given her a caning in the witness-box, pried and twisted into her secret life. Her nature was such that there’d always be a scar on it now: a scar of shame because she had had publicly to talk about the intimate side of her marriage.
Steine, cross-examining, was in full flood. He’d begun to flourish his hands — as if there were a jury present — and his left arm repeatedly pointed at Rusk.
The judge looked almost inhumanly immobile. He seldom interrupted counsel, in direct opposition to some of his fellow members on the bench who appeared to think it necessary to keep up a running commentary during the hearing of a case.
‘You claimed to find the buckle in the petitioner’s study?’ asked Steine.
‘Yes.’
‘It was later proved, wasn’t it, that this buckle was a fake, placed in the file falsely to inculpate the petitioner?’
‘I wouldn’t know about that.’
The outstretched finger stabbed the air, the voice dripped sarcasm. ‘Are you trying to claim you know nothing about this buckle?’
‘I can’t say whether it was placed in the petitioner’s house falsely to inculpate him.’
‘You knew from the very beginning what the buckle was like?’
‘Yes.’
‘You knew what the initials were and where they’d been scratched, because the police in the case had been issued with photographs of an exactly similar buckle to the missing one, marked exactly by Robert Haze.’
‘That’s true.’
‘So you were in a position to buy a similar buckle from a shop and, with the aid of the photograph, scratch those initials in the right place?’
‘I was, but I didn’t do so.’
‘You found the buckle?’
‘After Kremayne had asked me to search his study.’
‘You made certain you found it when you were alone?’
‘I was alone at the time.’
‘Without your evidence, Kremayne would not have been charged with the murder of Fiona Johnson, would he?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘And you hated Kremayne?’
‘He wasn’t my best friend.’
‘And he had a wife you coveted?’
‘I liked Mrs Kremayne.’
‘Like? Is that how you normally described an adulterous relationship?’
The cross-examination continued.
CHAPTER 19
Mr Justice Elham stroked his jowl. He squared up his notebook and placed the pencil by the side of it. He began to speak in his gravelly voice.
‘This case is possessed of some unusual features, not least of which is that many of the facts have previously been before another court and there adjudicated upon. However, that was a criminal matter, and this is a civil one, and we are not bound by a finding that was inter alios partes.
‘The petitioner has petitioned for divorce on the grounds of adultery between the respondent and co-respondent, the respondent has cross-petitioned for divorce on the grounds that the petitioner has committed rape. I dismiss the petitioner’s suit and find that adultery between the respondent and co-respondent has not been proved. I find that the petitioner was guilty of rape on two occasions …’
*
The judge completed his summing-up and shut his notebook.
Barran stood up. ‘Costs, my Lord?’
‘I shall for the moment make no order as to costs. I should like to be addressed on that, and other matters, at a later date.’
‘My Lord, both the respondent …’
‘No, Mr Barran, I shall make no order right now.’
‘As your lordship pleases.’
The judge stood up, bowed, and left the dais by the rear door.
Kremayne came out into the large hall-like space beyond the courtroom and took his cigarette case from his pocket. He offered it to Steine.
‘Haven’t time, I’m afraid,’ said Steine. ‘Consultation in twenty minutes.’
Kremayne’s face was white and his right upper eye-lid had developed a nervous tic. As he placed the cigarette in his mouth, his hand was shaking. ‘Where does it leave me?’
Steine said: ‘There’s no doubt that eventually you’ll have to pay costs all round, alimony until the decree absolute, then maintenance. One third of the joint income less the wife’s income, usually.’
‘To hell with that — I’m talking about the murder.’
‘Isn’t the answer obvious?’
‘They were lying.’
Steine removed his wig and ran the fingers of his hand through his long black hair. ‘A divorce court is a wonderful place for perjury. They say that the day a witness tells the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, the walls will all come tumbling down.’
‘We must appeal.’
‘One will have to consider very carefully the advisability of that.’ His clerk touched his arm and whispered to him. ‘Of course, of course, time to move.’ His corsair’s face expressed open dislike, as he strode away.
Kremayne took several nervous puffs at the cigarette and ash spilled down the front of his coat. ‘Got to appeal,’ he muttered to himself. He turned round.
I’d like a word with you,’ said Superintendent Fearson. Behind the uniformed superintendent stood Carren and another man in civilian clothes.
‘What about?’ muttered Kremayne.
‘Over there would be quieter.’ The superintendent indicated the far end of the hall.
‘I’m bloody well not going anywhere. Go and worry someone else.’
‘Come along, Mr Kremayne, and don’t waste everyone’s time.’
The three policemen began walking and Kremayne reluctantly followed them. They stopped in the corner of the hall and through the dirt-streaked windows Kremayne could see the traffic. A woman, wearing a brightly coloured beret with an attached pompon stared at him, said something to her male companion, laughed and both passed on and out of sight. Kremayne dropped the cigarette on to the floor and stamped it out. He lit another.
‘I am about to arrest you on a charge of murder,’ said the superintendent. ‘Do you wish to say anything in answer to the charge? You need not say anything unless you wish to do so, but whatever you say will be taken down and may be used in evidence.’<
br />
*
Kremayne stared at the superintendent, then laughed wildly. ‘You bloody fools,’ he shouted.
The policemen made no answer.
‘You can’t arrest me.’
‘Why not?’ asked the superintendent.
‘I was found not guilty.’
‘I think you’re confused. You were found not guilty of the murder of Fiona Johnson. I am arresting you for the murder of Brenda Ellery.’
*
‘My wife was lying in there,’ said Kremayne.
‘We don’t think so.’
‘Maybe you don’t, but where does that get you? Suppose every word she said was the truth? She’s my wife and she can’t give evidence against me.’
‘Aren’t you forgetting that Mrs Kremayne has just been granted a decree nisi and very shortly it’ll be declared absolute. She won’t be your wife, then.’
Kremayne seemed to shake himself. His voice rose. ‘She can’t do that.’
‘From a legal point of view? I’ll admit I’m not certain since I haven’t seen the lawyers. It’s an idea though.’
‘God, you bastards! You come threatening me before you know the facts. I’ll stop her getting the final decree. She won’t if she knows what it’ll do to me. She’s much too soft-hearted ever to be responsible for my being convicted.’
The superintendent folded his arms in front of his chest. His uniform jacket strained at his buttons. ‘Mrs Kremayne gave evidence that the lower half of the exhaust bracket of the Rover had become damaged during the night of the murder of Brenda Ellery. As soon as we heard that in court, Mr Carren telephoned through to the station and set the lads to work. Among the objects picked up in and about Swayton Woods while we were searching for the knife was a piece of battered metal that didn’t seem to come from anything. It was found by the side of a large chunk of Kentish rag-stone, in the grass verge a few feet away from the ride that led up to the spot where Brenda Ellery’s body was found. Because it was so battered, there was no identifying it until we heard your wife’s evidence here in court. Since then, preliminary tests on the metal have shown that it’s the missing piece of the lower half of the exhaust bracket; the other part of the bracket had luckily been put on one side by the mechanic at the garage who wanted proof that his servicing had not been slap-dash.’
‘She can’t give evidence … she can’t give evidence.’
‘Although your wife is not competent to give evidence against you, any evidence obtained as a result of anything she says is evidence that can be used against you, Mr Kremayne.’
‘Shall we go?’ said the DI.
*
The wind blew westerly over Denge Marsh and Denge Beach and gusts caught the car and forced Rusk to twist the steering-wheel to counter their effect. The track was exceedingly rough, and potholes were so many that there was no chance of clearing all of them. The wheels thumped and the suspension crunched. To the left of them was a broad dyke that fed the pumping station, to their right were the rolling billows of pebbles, tussocked with rough grass and the strange sea lavender, sea kale, and other plants Rusk had never been able to identify, which seemed to be able to draw sustenance from stone.
The car reached the end of the track and Rusk parked it within the shelter of the small huddle of sheds. He climbed out and opened the front passenger door for Anne Kremayne.
They left the huts and climbed a shallow slope of pebbles which brought them to the sea.
They were in the middle of loneliness. The loneliness of the storm-tossed sea with its breakers crashing down on the shingle beach, and the loneliness of the storm sky filled with heavy clouds and wheeling sea-gulls.
She raised the collar of her fur-lined coat. ‘I’ve always come here whenever I’ve wanted to air my mind.’ She linked her right arm with his left arm. ‘Just now my mind needs a spring-cleaning.
‘Six weeks at sea will see to that.’
‘You’ll be there when I get back, won’t you, Blayne?’
‘I’ll be waiting at the foot of the gangway: always provided you haven’t wired to say you’ve met a Bolivian tin-mine owner.’
‘I’m too old and ugly for their tastes. They like their female companions just turned twenty and ripened by the sun.’ Out on their left, a large tanker came into sight, looking so close to land, as to be in danger of running ashore. The sea was slashing at her hull and spurting away in spray and spume. They could see the men on the bridge.
Anne Kremayne sat down on the shingle and tucked her legs under herself. He sat beside her.
‘It’s a nightmare,’ she said.
‘Nightmares go.’
‘I keep feeling responsible …’
‘Only fate was. Fiona Johnson had to die to make up fate’s books.’
‘My solicitor says Jonathan won’t be able to pay the costs of the case, quite apart from anything else. The house and farm are in my name and have been from the day he bought them.’
‘He’s always claimed to be a clever business-man.’
‘It’s rather funny, isn’t it?’
‘Very funny.’
They were silent.
Rusk thought it was very, very funny.
Especially since he, a trained detective, had not thought to work out the simple fact that the arm of a cheap buckle caused considerable wear.
If you enjoyed Exhibit No 13 check out Endeavour Press’s other books here: Endeavour Press - the UK’s leading independent publisher of digital books.
For weekly updates on our free and discounted eBooks sign up to our newsletter.
Follow us on Twitter and Goodreads.
Exhibit No. Thirteen Page 17
