The Adulterer's Wife

by Leigh Russell

  Given that Paul was now dead, I would have preferred not to learn about Nina’s betrayal at all, but I thanked Katie for doing what she believed was the right thing.

  At last she left, apologising for having to go home to her husband and make his supper. She invited me to accompany her. For answer I rose to my feet and pulled up my trouser leg. When I explained what was around my ankle, she threw her arms around me, patting me on the back.

  ‘That’s horrible,’ she mumbled. ‘This is all so terrible. I can't believe they’ve done this to you.’ She stared down at my tag. ‘We have to get this hideous thing removed.’

  ‘That's not possible. If I tamper with it, an alarm’s set off at the monitoring centre. And the same happens if I break the curfew and don't get home by six. So, you see I can't come with you. Give my best wishes to Tony, won't you?’

  ‘It’s a relief to have told you,’ she confessed as we walked along the hall to the front door. ‘It’s been a weight on my mind for so long, wondering what to do. I insisted Nina ought to tell you herself, but she flatly refused. She said he’s dead and gone and it wouldn’t make any difference to anyone now and so there was no reason to upset you over it. I just hope I did the right thing.’

  ‘Definitely,’ I lied.

  Sometimes it’s better not to know the truth.

  38

  It was hard to believe Nina had the gall to behave as though nothing had happened between her and Paul. Really, it was impossible to fathom what people were thinking, and what appeared to be the truth so often turned out to be a tangle of lies. For months, Nina had seemed beyond reproach as a friend, going out and having a laugh, and then being sympathetic when Paul had died. She had always had my back, ever since we were at school together. And now this.

  It made me feel physically sick even thinking about her. I wanted to slap her in the face and make sure she realised what she had lost. With his death, Paul had snatched from me the chance to tell him exactly what I thought of his infidelity. I wasn’t going to miss a second opportunity to speak my mind. In some ways, Nina’s betrayal was as bad as Paul’s. She was my friend.

  When I suggested visiting Nina for coffee the next morning, she insisted I join her for lunch. It didn’t take me long to reach her apartment in Harrow, not far from where I lived. After her divorce, she had moved out of her house and bought a small maisonette on the top floor of a converted two-storey house. It was on a main road, but she said it gave her a sense of security to see buses going past, and there was a stop right outside her front door.

  As I rang the bell, I still hadn’t decided what to say to her. ‘You were screwing my husband, you bitch,’ was hardly subtle. I wasn’t even sure whether to come out with it straight away or have lunch first. Either way it was going to be hard. We had been friends for a long time.

  Still contemplating my options, I rang her bell.

  It could have been my imagination, but I thought I detected something sly in her eyes when she opened the door and smiled at me. She went to hug me, but I drew back, pretending to sneeze. It didn’t sound very convincing to me, but she made no comment, instead leading the way to the table at one end of her living room.

  ‘I know it’s all a bit compact compared to the house,’ she had told us the first time she invited Katie and me over, ‘but it’s fine for me now I’m on my own, and there’s no way I was going to stay in that house after everything that happened.’ She screwed up her eyes as though to shut out an unpleasant sight. ‘I don’t even know if they did it there, in our bed.’

  Taking my place at her table, I wondered where she and Paul had slept together. Suddenly I couldn’t contain myself any longer.

  ‘Did you do it here?’ I asked.

  ‘What?’

  She looked surprised, more by my hostile tone of voice than the question which made little sense coming, as it did, out of context.

  ‘I asked you whether you did it here, in your bedroom. Or did you meet in a hotel?’

  She shook her head. ‘What are you on about? Is this a joke, because I just don’t get it?’

  ‘You can stop pretending. I know all about you and Paul.’

  ‘Me and Paul? What? You think I killed him? That’s insane. What are you talking about? Why would I do that? Have you been drinking?’

  ‘Do you really want to force me to say it? All right then. I know you were having an affair with Paul. You can lie about it all you want, but I know what’s what.’

  Nina gaped. ‘What are you... What are you talking about?’ she stammered. ‘Me and Paul? You’ve got to be kidding... What are you thinking?’ She shook her head. ‘Jesus, Julie, what the hell gave you that idea? He was your husband. He’s the last man- ’

  ‘Stop lying. I’m done with your lies. Admit the truth and tell me why you did it. I just want to know why.’

  Somehow my anger had fizzled out leaving only a desperate urge to hear the truth from her lips. Nina stood up and paced to the other end of the room where she stood for a moment with her back to me, her shoulders bowed. At last she turned to face me.

  ‘Julie, I don’t know who told you this stupid lie, but I promise you there was nothing going on between me and Paul. I hardly ever saw him, and when I did, he was always with you.’ Her voice, at first plaintive, hardened, and her eyes blazed. ‘I can’t believe you’d listen to such a vicious rumour, even for a second, let alone believe it.’

  She came back to the table and sat down, gazing directly at me. I could tell she was struggling to control her anger.

  ‘Julie, we’ve been friends for a long time. You know me. You know I’d never do that to you. Listen, you’ve been under a lot of stress recently. I know how hard it is when the man you’re in love with turns out to be a cheat and a liar, and you realise you’ve thrown your life away on someone you never really knew. Your whole world falls apart. I know what that feels like. And I get it that you’re all over the place at the moment. You think you can’t trust anyone. But don’t turn your anger against the people who are on your side. You won’t help yourself get through this in one piece if you alienate your friends. It will send you over the edge. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about. So let’s forget what you just said-’

  ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ I interrupted her furiously. ‘So how does this work for you, Nina? Let me see if I’ve got this right. You sleep with my husband and then I’m supposed to tell you that’s all right and what’s important is that we carry on being friends? Is that what you want? Right now, I want to- to throw something at you for betraying me.’

  ‘Julie, it wasn’t me that betrayed you. Can’t you see what you’re doing? You’re fantasising, turning your rage against me when it wasn’t me who hurt you. I’m your friend, and I’d never do anything like that. I just couldn’t. You know me, Julie. Snap out of this, please.’

  ‘Don’t tell me I’m imagining it.’

  ‘So, what makes you think I was having sex with him? Did you catch us at it?’ She laughed, but her face twisted in disgust. ‘Can’t you see how stupid this is?’

  ‘I didn’t catch you, Katie did. She told me everything, and when she challenged you about what was going on, you didn’t even try to deny it.’

  Nina leapt to her feet, knocking her chair to the floor, her face stretched taut with astonishment.

  Her voice came out in a strangled whisper. ‘Katie never told you this.’

  I nodded. ‘She did. So you can stop denying it, because I know about it.’

  ‘You know? You know?’ Her voice rose to a shriek. ‘You know only what Katie told you. What I want to know is why you immediately assumed she was telling you the truth. What makes you so sure I’m the one who’s lying? Because I know I’m not.’

  I stared at her, agitated by what she was saying. Someone was lying, that much was clear, but which of them was it?

  ‘I don’t see why Katie would have made it up,’ I replied. ‘And in any case, Tony saw Paul with a dark-haired woman.’

&nb
sp; Nina raised her eyebrows. There was no need for her to point out that I had only heard that from Katie.

  ‘Why would she lie about it?’ I persisted. ‘I can see why you might want to cover up an affair, if you were seeing Paul, but why would Katie make up something like that?’

  ‘How should I know? You’ll have to ask her. And it really never occurred to you until now this minute that she might be lying to you?’

  I shrugged. ‘It’s so hard to know what the truth is.’

  ‘I feel sorry for you, Julie, really I do. Do you know why? Because you’re going to end up alone and friendless.’ She stood up. ‘I’d like you to leave now. As far as I’m concerned, I never want to see or hear from you, or Katie, ever again. I thought you were my friend, but it seems you’re prepared to believe vicious gossip about me without a shred of proof. How could you? Now get out of my house.’

  39

  Trembling, I made my way home. I would have to go and see Katie to find out what she was playing at, but the whole situation was so weird, I was afraid to tackle her. Nina had been very convincing, but I couldn’t see what possible motive Katie could have for fabricating a story that Nina had been having an affair with my husband. It made no sense. On the other hand, if Paul had been unfaithful to me with my friend Nina, it was obvious she would deny it.

  Whether or not Nina had been telling me the truth, our friendship could never be the same after this. One of us would never trust the other again. I didn’t want to risk making the same mistake with Katie by rushing straight round to her house and calling her a liar. Of my various acquaintances, none had been in touch with me, beyond sending cards and emails of condolence for Paul’s death. My circle tended to consist mainly of other married women, and I recalled how Nina used to complain that most of her women friends dropped her once she became single again.

  Now that Nina had thrown me out, Katie was the only close friend I had left. Reluctant to challenge her for fear of losing her friendship too, I went home to plan my next move.

  I had forgotten that Ackerman had arranged to come and see me that evening. Fortunately, I had showered and pulled myself together by the time he arrived.

  ‘How was your day?’ he asked as he came in. ‘You're looking a lot better than the last time I saw you.’

  I wasn’t best pleased at the reminder that I had been drunk when we last met.

  ‘It's not a sin to have a few drinks once in a while,’ I replied coldly, turning away to hide my embarrassment.

  ‘It is if you're a Muslim or a Sikh.’

  ‘True. But I'm not. I’m an atheist.’

  ‘No eternal hell fires for you then.’

  ‘I like to think I’d be going to the other place, if there is an after-life.’

  He laughed. ‘I guess that's what everyone thinks. We all convince themselves we’re justified in doing whatever it is we do. Even the bad guys fool themselves into thinking they can be saved. They were wronged, or they were doing God’s work. Failing that, all they have to do is confess and repent, and they’re off the hook. But mostly they delude themselves into believing they were right to do what they did, however egregious. We all twist the truth to suit ourselves.’

  I scowled at him. ‘Did you come here to lecture me, or do you want something?’

  ‘A cold beer would be great or, failing that, a nice strong cup of tea might hit the spot.’

  I suspected he knew perfectly well that wasn't what I meant, but I led him into the living room, so he could sit down in comfort while I made us some tea. My bottle of wine would have to remain unopened until later.

  Sitting down opposite my visitor, with a tray of tea and biscuits on the low table between us, I repeated my question.

  He took a moment to savour his tea, and bit into a shortbread biscuit. Then he lifted his cup and nodded appreciatively. ‘This is good tea. Very good.’

  ‘Tea always tastes better when it’s made in a pot. So, are you here on a social visit?’

  I had no idea where he lived, but he had complained before about having to travel such a long distance to my house. I guessed he might live somewhere in Kent since he had once mentioned Tunbridge Wells.

  ‘Or perhaps you’ve come all this way to admire my new jewellery?’

  I yanked up my trouser leg to display my tag, and he grunted.

  ‘Well?’ I asked him. ‘Did you go to the World’s End club last night?’

  ‘Yes. Bloody hell, what a place. Talk about a meat market. Not to mention pretentious and overpriced. You know how much it cost just to get in?’

  I shook my head. ‘What was it like?’

  ‘Loud. In every sense of the word. My ears were ringing for hours after I left.’

  Listening to his description of the club, I was glad I hadn't been able to go although, as it turned out, I wouldn't have been out of place. According to Ackerman, there were a number of women my age there, several of whom tried to come on to him. In fact, if his account was true, there were women of all ages there, outnumbering the men by at least two to one, and he was kept busy fending off their advances.

  ‘Why don’t you start at the beginning?’

  ‘I got there at ten and had to queue to get in.’

  ‘What were the other people like?’

  ‘They were mainly women.’

  ‘What sort of women?’

  ‘Most of them were young, and they were all dolled up with far too much make up. Even on such a mild evening, they must have been chilly in their short skirts and skimpy tops, but none of them complained about being kept waiting on the street. In fact, there was quite a festive atmosphere among them as we shuffled slowly forwards. At the entrance two bouncers were checking tickets and once we got inside, punters went through a kind of security check.’ Ackerman’s lips curled in a sneer. ‘I could have got a Kalashnikov past those apes.’

  ‘It wasn’t an airport,’ I said.

  ‘No point in checking for weapons if you don’t do a proper job of it,’ he replied.

  Inside, it had been almost impossible to find a space to stand without being knocked into by one of the dancers.

  ‘I say they were dancing, but it was just a mass of sweaty bodies gyrating in such close proximity that they could scarcely move, and the whole place flickered with flashing neon lights and a giant glitter ball. It was an assault on the senses.’

  Ackerman shuddered as he described it and I had to admit it sounded hideous. In the bar area the music was slightly less intrusive. Tables and chairs were packed together as closely as the space would allow, and most of the seats were taken by people either watching the show or shouting at their companions across the tables.

  Ackerman’s impression of the bar was dominated by his disdain for a drag artiste in a blonde wig and long silver robes and stilettos, who introduced a series of burlesque dancers, most of whom he found neither tasteful nor graceful. The stage was smoky, although not from cigarettes, and the whole space was illuminated by bright pink concealed lighting.

  I doubted the place was quite as vulgar as he made it sound, his outrage compounded by the cost of a shot.

  ‘What with paying for the entrance ticket, if I’d paid for one drink I’d have been set back the best part of a hundred quid.’

  But he did confirm Amelie’s view that it was a likely place to go to meet young women looking for a good time.

  He had spent some time prowling around.

  ‘I questioned the waitresses, showing them Paul’s photo and telling them my brother’s gone missing. I asked the bouncers and the manager, as well as the waiting staff, but no one admitted seeing him there, apart from one waitress who thought she recognised the photo, but that was no help as she couldn’t remember seeing him with anyone. At around midnight, I was on the point of leaving when a brawl broke out between two of the male customers. Before the bouncers arrived to separate them, I stepped in and grabbed each of the combatants by the arm and pulled them apart.’

  Once again, I wasn’t sure whet
her to believe his account. If he was telling the truth, he had not only been a magnet for promiscuous women, but also a heroic peacekeeper, in his short time at the club. But whatever the truth of his exploits, they didn’t alter the fact that he had made no progress with our investigation.

  ‘I may have discovered something that will help us,’ I said when he finished.

  Ackerman listened attentively as I went over everything Katie had told me, and Nina’s reaction when I had challenged her. He was inclined to agree with me that Nina had a clear motive for lying, whereas Katie didn’t.

  ‘But Nina was adamant it was a lie, and I kind of believed her. That is, I didn’t not believe her.’

  He frowned. ‘I suggest we go together and see Nina and Katie tomorrow, and find out which of your friends knows a lot more than she’s letting on. Leave the questioning to me. Someone knows what happened and has been hiding the truth from everyone.’

  I nodded. He was right. One of them was lying. I just didn’t know which one.

  40

  The following afternoon I bumped into my neighbour who lived across road. I only knew her by sight. We exchanged greetings when we passed each other in the street but had never had a proper conversation. She was probably a few years older than me, although it was difficult to tell, one of those women who could be anything from her mid-thirties to her fifties with good genes. I guessed that she worked, because I had sometimes noticed her returning home on weekdays at around five o’clock, but I had never seen her go out in the morning, so assumed she usually left before I was up.

  It occurred to me to ask her if she had seen anyone hanging around near my house in the days leading up to Paul’s murder. If an intruder had broken in with the intention of killing him, they might have been there to check out the place beforehand. It was at least a possibility, and right now I was willing to consider anything.