by Susan Lewis
Bob turned back to Corrie. ‘Get to work on the questions,’ he barked, as Corrie picked up an incoming call, ‘bring them to me when they’re ready.’
‘Hello?’ Corrie said into the receiver, then put her hand over it as Annalise said.
‘You’ll have to conduct the interview yourself, Corrie.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! I’ve never been in front of a camera in my life.’
‘There isn’t anyone else. You’ll have to.’ Annalise grinned. ‘Your chance for stardom.’
‘I don’t want stardom,’ Corrie snapped, and took her hand away from the mouthpiece.
‘Corrie? Corrie, it’s Luke. I just heard the news. What have you got lined up?’
‘Chelsea Police. We’re working on the prostitutes, and trying to find out who the guy is. Scotland Yard …’
‘I can tell you who he is,’ Luke interrupted. ‘His name’s Bobby McIver. Have you got a pen, I’ll give you his address.’
‘Fire away,’ Corrie said.
She jotted down the address, signalling at the same time for the production manager to come and read over her shoulder. ‘Hang on a second, Luke,’ she said. Then to the production manager ‘Can we get a crew over there to do some exterior shots of where he lives?’
‘Leave it with me.’
‘Luke, are you there?’
‘Yeah. I’m on my way in.’
Corrie looked at her watch, and not giving herself a second to think of the impropriety of ordering Luke about, she said, ‘No, don’t do that. Meet us at Chelsea Police Station. We need someone to do the interview. Felicity’s not available.’
‘You’ve got it,’ Luke said, and rang off.
Luke was in his car, only a few minutes’ ride from Chelsea Police Station. He was chuckling quietly to himself as he listened to LBC chuntering out the few details they had on the arrest. Picking up his car phone he dialled a number, and pulled over to the side of the road.
‘Phillip?’ he said, as Phillip’s voice came over the line. ‘Have you heard the news?’
‘No,’ Phillip answered shortly.
Luke laughed, ‘Well you will, soon enough,’ he said, and rang off.
When Corrie and Annalise arrived at Chelsea Police Station Corrie immediately started briefing Luke on the questions needing to be asked. Meanwhile, Annalise was organizing the crew as they set up their equipment in DI Radcliffe’s office.
‘So remember,’ Corrie said to Luke when Radcliffe went off to comb his hair before appearing on camera, ‘we don’t need any preliminaries, you can just start right in on the questions. Now, there’s something I want to ask you.’
‘About Watkins?’ Luke suggested.
‘Yes. About Watkins. Why do we have to take out …’
‘Later,’ Luke said, holding up his hand. ‘I’ll explain everything later. Now, it looks to me that we’re about ready to roll.’
They were, so Corrie stood to one side as Radcliffe reappeared from the men’s room and he and Luke sat either side of Radcliffe’s desk, while the cameraman adjusted the lights.
‘OK, Steve?’ Annalise said.
The cameraman nodded.
‘Then turn over.’
‘Speed,’ the cameraman said a few seconds later.
Annalise nodded to Luke, and clearing his throat Luke turned to Radcliffe.
The interview lasted no more than ten minutes, during which Radcliffe confirmed that a man by the name of Bobby McIver had been arrested in the early hours of the morning. At this stage the police weren’t prepared to divulge much about McIver’s background – probably, Corrie thought, because they didn’t know anything. However, Radcliffe and his team were in no doubt that they had the right man.
‘He has made a full confession,’ Radcliffe said, ‘giving us certain details unknown to the public at this stage. What’s more a team of detectives are even now at his home, where they have found considerable evidence to back up McIver’s claims.’
‘And what led you to suspect McIver in the first place?’ Luke asked.
‘A tip-off from a neighbour,’ Radcliffe answered. ‘We would like that neighbour to come forward again, if they would, in complete confidence, naturally.’
‘And what are your feelings now, Inspector Radcliffe, concerning the legalization of brothels?’
‘They remain unchanged,’ Radcliffe told him. ‘The fact that we have caught one maniac does not mean that there won’t be others. I believe we should have legalized brothels in this country.’
When he continued to elucidate his opinions Annalise looked at Corrie. Corrie nodded, and waiting until Radcliffe came to a natural end, Annalise said, ‘OK, cut.’
‘Thank you very much, Inspector,’ Corrie said, moving into the light and handing both him and Luke handkerchiefs to wipe the sweat from their faces.
‘He hasn’t told us much,’ Annalise whispered, when Luke and Radcliffe wandered outside into the corridor to give the crew some room to pack up.
‘I know, but I think it’s all we’re going to get,’ Corrie whispered back. ‘They’ve only had him in custody a few hours remember.’
‘If you don’t need me for anything else I’m going to head off to the office,’ Luke said, coming up behind them and draping an arm over each of their shoulders.
Annalise looked to Corrie for confirmation. ‘Sure, that’s fine,’ Corrie answered. ‘We’ll just do a vox pop with the prostitutes over at Shepherd Market. Thanks for helping out, Luke.’
‘The pleasure was all mine,’ he grinned.
Corrie found Radcliffe a few minutes later, once again coming out of the men’s room. She smiled as he came towards her and held out her hand. ‘I was wondering,’ she said, ‘how a policeman feels on a day like today?’
Radcliffe chuckled. ‘Exhausted, is your answer,’ he said. ‘Elated too, I suppose. And relieved. And several other things I’d better not tell you about.’
Corrie looked at him curiously, even a touch flirtatiously, but she could see he wasn’t going to be drawn. ‘Where’s McIver now?’ she asked.
To her surprise Radcliffe looked at her long and hard before answering. ‘Safe,’ he said at last.
‘Safe?’ Corrie echoed, her surprise showing. ‘Safe from whom?’
‘The press, of course.’
They both smiled, then Corrie, more or less repeating the question Luke had asked during the interview, said, ‘So you don’t know anything about his background yet? Whether or not he has a mother, a wife, or any family at all come to that?’
Radcliffe shook his head.
‘I suppose it’s crazy to ask at this stage if you know why he did it?’ Corrie ventured.
Radcliffe grimaced. ‘Finding a motive can be a very long process, and even then we don’t always succeed. In McIver’s case it’s going to be even more difficult.’
‘Why do you say that?’
Again Radcliffe looked at her as though assessing her. ‘McIver has the mental age of a ten year old,’ he said carefully. ‘The strength of an ox, of course, but the mind of a child.’
‘Why didn’t you say any of that in the interview?’
‘Because we don’t want to unleash a storm of criticism on the mentally incapable roaming our streets. Most of them are harmless, but … Government cut-backs, Miss Browne, I’m sure you understand what I’m saying.’
‘You mean you’ve had instructions from the top to keep this quiet?’ Corrie said, understanding perfectly but wanting it spelt out.
He looked at her. ‘I’d prefer that you kept this to yourself for the time being. It’ll come out eventually, but for now …’
‘OK. If that’s what you want. But tell me, are you prepared to say now what the evidence was that you were holding back?’
Radcliffe shook his head. ‘Still too early for that. But I will tell you this much. There are two extremely peculiar things about this case, that only the murderer – and ourselves, of course – could know about. The first concerns a certain fragrance, as I
told Mr Fitzpatrick myself, a week or so ago. You can put that into your programme, you probably already have.’
Corrie nodded. ‘We don’t know the brand name though.’
‘No,’ Radcliffe confirmed. ‘But McIver does. The second thing he’s been doing is something which still has us all totally baffled. McIver’s confessed to it, but refuses to give a reason why.’ He looked up then as someone called out his name, and turning briefly back to Corrie he said, ‘I’ll be in touch, Miss Browne.’
When they left the police station Annalise and Corrie took the crew on to Shepherd Market to interview the prostitutes, and from there went on to McIver’s flat in Camberwell to join up with the other crew. They shot what they could of the exterior through the crush of other photographers and press, then headed back to the office to begin a rushed re-edit of the programme.
It was a great relief to Corrie that for once Annalise seemed to be on the ball, since Corrie couldn’t get the conversation with Radcliffe out of her mind. Why, she kept asking herself, had he told her things he’d refused to say on camera? And why, at the end, had he told her he’d be in touch? He’d made it sound as though he wanted her to know something else, but what? And this cover up about McIver’s mental age. OK, if Radcliffe was being leaned on to keep it quiet, she could understand that, but why tell her? And why even trust her? After all, wasn’t she one of the press Radcliffe had said he wanted to keep McIver ‘safe’ from?
In the end she decided to go and talk it over with Luke. She didn’t feel she was breaking Radcliffe’s confidence, since Radcliffe himself had told Luke about the fragrance, he’d even told Luke the brand name, though Luke had refused to tell either her or Annalise. But as she got up from the edit suite, leaving Annalise to it, one of the secretaries called out that there was a telephone call for her.
To Corrie’s astonishment it was her father, asking if they could meet that night. As she was explaining that she wouldn’t be able to make it until nine o’clock at the earliest she saw Luke walk out of the office.
‘It’s all right, I’ll wait,’ Phillip said. ‘The Man in the Moon? Like before?’
‘OK,’ Corrie answered, distractedly. ‘I’ll see you there.’
By the time she rang off Luke had already gone down in the lift. Well he was sure to be back later, she’d try to speak to him then, if not it would just have to wait until tomorrow. In the meantime she had her very first transmission to sort out, so making a concerted effort to put Radcliffe’s bewildering comments, and her father’s cryptic meetings, out of her mind, she returned to the edit suite.
It was a frenzied afternoon, with new graphics being drawn up every few minutes, fresh material being inserted into the main body of the programme and a miraculous re-jig of the main interviews to make them more pertinent. At four o’clock there was a deafening cheer when one of the secretaries managed to get hold of Felicity, who took a fast car from St John’s Wood to come and record a new voice over. By six thirty the dubbing was finished and they were ready to go into the studio for Luke to top and tail the programme. It only remained now for it to be sent down the line to the transmission centre. At seven forty-three they received the all clear from Euston and just as Corrie and Annalise were heaving a great sigh of relief, Luke came into the studio to congratulate them.
‘I watched it going through from my office,’ he told them, ‘you’ve done a great job. And someone somewhere is smiling on you, that we should be transmitting the very day the murderer was arrested. Quite a coup! How about some champagne in my office to celebrate?’
Annalise and Corrie, both pale and harassed, looked at each other, then broke into a grin. ‘And why not?’ Annalise said. ‘We’ll drink to Corrie, because the whole thing was her idea in the first place. And if I were a truly generous person I’d have given up my producer’s credit for her. But I didn’t. Not because I’m not a truly generous person, you understand, but because I only just thought of it.’
Laughing, Corrie hugged her. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you,’ she said.
‘Which is why,’ Luke added, ‘I am taking you both – and Felicity too – out to dinner the minute the programme ends.’
‘Ah, now that could be difficult,’ Corrie said. ‘Felicity has already left, off on some hot date somewhere, and I have a date too, I’m afraid.’
‘Cancel it!’ Annalise cried.
‘I can’t.’
‘Then bring him along,’ Luke said.
‘That wouldn’t work either, I’m afraid. No, you two go along and drink a few glasses for me.’
‘But you’ll have some before you go?’ Luke insisted. ‘In fact, you can’t go until the programme’s been transmitted.’
‘Just lead me to it,’ Corrie said, holding out her arms to both of them, and suddenly realizing she was already slightly drunk on adrenalin.
‘Are you sure you won’t come for dinner with us?’ Luke said, a few minutes later, as he poured champagne into Corrie’s glass. Annalise had slipped out to the ladies, so Corrie and Luke, for the moment, were in the office alone.
‘Quite sure, thank you,’ she said, looking up at him and smiling.
He smiled too, but to her surprise she saw that he looked genuinely hurt. She lifted a hand, intending to take his, but then stopped herself. It was too intimate a gesture should Annalise come back, and besides, Corrie didn’t want him to think that he still meant anything to her.
She’d done a lot of thinking since the night she’d met her father at Luke’s, and had now attributed her reaction to shock. Nonetheless, she still didn’t quite trust Luke. Though suspecting him of all that she had, and deciding to guard Annalise against him, now seemed to Corrie an extreme over-reaction on her part. Besides which, when a woman was as obsessed with a man as Annalise was with Luke there was little anyone could do. And Corrie had finally come to the conclusion that Luke probably didn’t know that Phillip was her father, since if he did, he would have been sure to have said something by now. Or at least to have given himself away somehow. But his only reference to that evening had been to tell Corrie how upset he had been that Annalise had got so drunk in front of her parents.
‘She thinks her mother and I are having an affair,’ he’d gone on to say, ‘and I guess I can hardly blame her for that. Of course, you don’t know Octavia, but she’s like that with just about every man she meets. Especially any man who shows an interest in Annalise.’
There had been plenty Corrie had wanted to say to that, but since they were standing in the corridor at TW at the time, she’d judged it wiser to remain silent.
As for their own relationship, such that it was, Corrie could only hope that it was over. Luke had neither called her, nor invited her out since the night of the cocktail party, though Corrie had caught him watching her from time to time, with a strange expression in his eyes.
He was looking at her that way now, and again, like all the other times, Corrie felt that he was trying in some way to reach out to her. She wasn’t proud of herself for turning away, she hated to do that to anyone, but it was her own sense of self-preservation that made her do it. She truly didn’t want to get caught up in any part of his life.
‘What is it about you that makes me feel I can trust you, Corrie?’ Luke said quietly.
‘Trust me with what?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I get when I look at you. You don’t trust me though, do you?’
‘No,’ she confessed. ‘You’ve never really given me any reason to.’
‘I gave you your promotion.’
‘Yes.’
‘But that’s not what we’re talking about, is it?’
‘No. Or perhaps, yes. Sometimes, Luke, you give me the impression that you’re playing games with us all. Will you explain now about Watkins?’
He smiled, then putting down his drink he walked around his desk and took a buff file from the drawer. ‘It’s quite simple really,’ he said. ‘I told Watkins that if he w
ere prepared to pay me twenty thousand pounds then I would see to it that his name was removed from the programme. He paid.’
Corrie’s eyes dilated. ‘You mean … Are you saying that you blackmailed him?’
Luke nodded. ‘Yes, I blackmailed him. But only after he had made me an offer himself.’
‘But Luke, that’s illegal.’
Luke laughed. ‘My darling, innocent Corrie. Of course it’s illegal. Now, aren’t you going to ask me what I did with the money?’
Corrie watched him suspiciously as he started towards her. ‘No,’ she said, when he took two pieces of paper from the file and handed them to her. ‘No, I don’t think I want to know.’
‘OK, then I’ll read it to you myself.’ He glanced up as Annalise walked in, and holding out a hand towards her he pulled her into the circle of his arm. ‘I was just about to tell Corrie how we gave Carol a cheque for twenty thousand pounds to help with the prostitutes’ cause,’ he told her.
Annalise turned to Corrie, but Corrie was still looking at Luke, shaking her head in disbelief.
‘This here,’ Luke said, indicating the top page, ‘is a letter to Watkins telling him precisely what I did with his money. And this one here, is a letter from Carol to the Editor of the Sun newspaper informing him of Watkins’ most generous donation.’
Annalise laughed. ‘Isn’t he a genius, Corrie?’ she said, gazing up at Luke.
Luke’s eyes were still on Corrie.
‘Yes,’ Corrie mumbled, ‘isn’t he?’ Then standing up she excused herself, saying she must powder her nose before the programme began.
It wasn’t so much that she completely disagreed with the ethics behind what Luke had done, it was more that she couldn’t bear the way he was looking at her, as though seeking her approval. She didn’t want to feel responsible for his actions, and much less did she want to feel that he had tricked Watkins to please her. But that was the way he’d made her feel.
Making a supreme effort she tried to shrug it off, what Luke did was his business, she just wished he wouldn’t make it hers by telling her about it. Maybe she’d discuss it with her father, after all he was the chairman of TW, and surely wouldn’t approve of what Luke had done either. A quick fantasy flashed through her mind, of seeing Luke pushed out of TW and she and Annalise appointed joint-heads. What a miracle that would be, she and her half-sister heading up their own TV company under the guiding hand of their father. She almost laughed aloud then, as she thought about all those hours she’d spent in Amberside, dreaming of what her life could be like, but never had she imagined that she might one day succeed with a father and a sister. There was a long way to go though, before anything like that could happen, but tonight was going to be a first step in that direction. Blood ties, she now realized, really did mean something, for it didn’t seem to matter about the way Phillip had treated her, she still wanted, more than anything else in the world, for him to accept her as his daughter – and Annalise’s sister.
