‘When...that terrible thing happened, I was quite insane with it all pouring over me. It was as though I was drowning. They arrested him for rape and murder. He came here, one last time. He seemed to know he was going to be arrested. There was the question of alibis, you see. He refused to let me testify for him.’
‘You could have sworn he was here, all three times?’
‘Now you’re really being stupid.’ Restlessly she moved, touching things she knew and loved. ‘How could I be so certain? There were no crosses on my calendar. But I could have explained why he had no alibis.’
‘But again he refused to hurt Delia?’
‘That was the way he put it.’ The words were barely articulate. ‘I could have killed him. But he refused, flatly.’
‘You don’t strike me as a person who would accept that.’
‘His wishes...’
‘You’d just stand aside and watch him go through that? Even watch him sentenced!’
‘If you’re not going to believe what I say...’
‘I’m trying to understand.’
‘I’m giving you the facts. He was tried, as you say, and sentenced, and the life went clear out of me. But then the miracle happened. He was released. I knew he would come back to me. But he didn’t. It was as though the past was dead.’
‘But I can’t see why you’d fear him.’
She looked vague, sliding round it. ‘Fact,’ she claimed. ‘He hated me. You’re a man. You work it out. But he did want to see me — once — oh what a treat! One last time. Fond farewells. It was a complicated set-up, but you know that, and all I’d got to wait for was the go-ahead by post, and the place we were to meet.’
‘You got that by post? Yesterday morning?’
‘Yes.’
‘And had to collect the MGB, get back to the office...’
‘My post arrives before half past seven. There was time to get back and switch to his BMW. I drove to the log house, but he had a fast car, and though he started later he got there first. When I arrived he was dead in the MGB.’
‘Ah!’
‘You don’t believe that!’
‘You’re saying you moved his dead body from one car to the other. A difficult job.’ She was nodding, barely lifting her head, her eyes on me from beneath her brows, hunted, wary.
‘But you’re a strong young woman, and you were desperate, because you had to get the MGB back to the Airport and recover your own car. Am I right?’
‘You’re very clever, when it’s all obvious.’
‘And there would be blood on your clothes, all over you. A mess.’
She shuddered. ‘There are no open fires here, and no furnace. I took them in a suitcase, after you called last night, and dumped them...But why should I say where?’
‘Why indeed? You returned the MGB. Locked it up...’
‘A weak trap. No, I left it open, the keys on the driver’s seat.’ I nodded. And drove home.
‘Why are you playing with detail?’
‘Trying to separate the truths from the half-truths.’
Her hair swirled. ‘Every word has been true.’
‘I’m not satisfied about your explanation of why you could not give evidence for him.’
‘Because he wished...you’re not satisfied! Who the hell d’you think you are to question me?’
‘I’m the one who doesn’t understand why, if you loved him, you would not go to the police with his alibi — for Adrian, mind you, and to hell with Delia’s feelings.’
‘They would not have believed me.’
‘You say he came to you, on those three nights?’
‘I did not say that. I didn’t keep records.’
‘But you wouldn’t need to. A man does a thing like that...he doesn’t come away from it calm and unruffled. Not immaculate, with no blood on his clothes, not a crease anywhere.’
She whispered: ‘There was no blood. The reports said that.’
‘I’m trying to accept what you’ve told me. You said he intended to kill you. You’ve given no reason. All you’ve given me is one tiny, meagre clue.’
‘This is ridiculous.’ But her eyes were hunting.
‘You said you gave him what your sister had failed to — but even then it was perhaps not enough. You were thinking of those three girls. He would need to go somewhere, afterwards. Not to his wife. They can’t face their wives. It would be natural for him to come here.’
‘You’re putting words in my mouth.’
‘But it would be natural?’
‘If he had done those...those things, I suppose it...’ She couldn’t complete it.
‘Yet you’ve already said you believed he had done them.’
‘I denied it!’
‘You rejected it, but it was there. You didn’t simply believe he had done them, you knew. You knew because he came here afterwards, each time, and you calmed him and comforted him and tidied him, before you sent him home to Delia.’
I had almost forgotten George. He broke in easily.
‘I don’t think you need to flog it, Dave.’
I stared at him. I was that far from an admission. She was jerking her head violently, moaning, ‘no, no, no.’ It was the sort of denial that crumples down to yes.
‘But I do,’ I insisted. ‘It’s the reason she couldn’t give evidence for him. Because, with the least bit of cross-examination, it’d change to evidence against him. She didn’t dare, George. Didn’t dare.’
‘You get so excited, Dave. We get the point. Nobody’s disputing it. Now, you see, you’ve upset her. You just sit down, love, and take it easy. My friend’s a bit slow, so I’ll do all the explaining. Dave, it’s the reason why she thought he intended to kill her. She was the only one who knew. Oh sure, you’ll say it didn’t matter anymore — but it did. He’d got his way to make in the world, and he’d only be able to do it if he was shown to be innocent. You can’t deny that. So he cooked up this scheme. Two mugs to give him an alibi, and the lamb not only coming to the slaughter, but actually assisting.’
I didn’t know what George was doing. He’d gone all soft and considerate. Amanda was sitting, staring at nothing.
‘And there he’d be,’ said George expansively, ‘if he pulled it off, with an alibi to a murder that’d look like the fourth of a series…because he could even make it look like another rape.’ He gave one of his ghastly laughs; my scalp tingled. ‘She might even help him in that, seeing how long they’d been separated. And then where’d he be? Beautifully and manifestly innocent of all four.’
‘What are you trying to do, George?’ I asked softly.
‘I’m showing that she’d have a damn good reason to expect him to kill her.’
‘She said that, though I could hardly believe it.
‘But Dave,’ he cried, slapping my shoulder, ‘it would explain why she’d go there armed.’ And I understood the light in his eye.
Then she moved. In a second she had her back against a sideboard, her arms spread on its surface behind her.
‘I didn’t say that!’
‘Of course you didn’t, dear,’ said George gently.
‘I found him dead.’
‘Why deny it? Self-defence, when a triple murderer’s involved? Who’s going to blame you? What you knew was dangerous to him, and you realised it. He’d changed, and you knew that, too. So you’d naturally go armed.’
She fumbled with one of the drawers. She was awkwardly placed, her back to it, and the drawer stuck. With a whimper she turned and dragged the drawer open, turned back, and George ambled towards her.
‘There,’ he murmured. ‘You see. That’s what I meant.’
She was pointing a neat little .22 automatic at his chest, at a range close enough to sting badly, if not actually to draw blood.
George took it from her. ‘You must never,’ he said, ‘never point a pistol at anybody unless you intend to use it.’
‘I would’ve killed you.’
‘Not with this.’ He grinned and to
ssed it to me.
It was a genuine pistol, and, as far as I could detect, loaded. But it was so far gone in decrepitation that it could not possibly have fired. The fine tooling was scarred with rust, and the safety catch rusted on solid.
‘You see what I mean,’ said George.
‘I see nothing.’
‘She had to go armed. If she hadn’t produced that piffling thing, we’d have had to wonder what it was she did take.’
He was bland, his smile radiant. He was a great, blundering problem to me, determined to stand in the way of any solution that appeared. He didn’t want anybody arrested for Adrian’s murder.
‘The police’ll wonder that. They’ll talk about shotguns, George, not piddling little pistols.’
He was magnificent in triumph. ‘Then tell me how she could have had such a shotgun, Dave, up at the log house. She had to collect the MGB. If she had one with her then, there would be no time to get to the log house, or anywhere near there, and plant it. So, if she had one with her, in the MGB, she’d have to transfer it to the BMW. But how? It’d have to be right under Adrian Collis’s nose. It is just not feasible, Dave.’
‘You’re making a friend for life.’ I glanced at her. She was looking down at her hands.
‘I can’t help it. It’s my personality. Miss Greaves, I wish you’d sit down again. We’re not going to rush off to the police, but I’m sure they’ll find their way here. So you just have a nice, quiet sit, and get your story straight for them.’
‘It is not a story.’
‘Statement, then. You’ll find they’re very sympathetic. Come on, Dave, there’s work to do.’
Wondering, I followed him out.
‘What the devil was that all about, George?’ He was placid. ‘She didn’t do it.’
‘You big fool! That shotgun theory won’t wash with the police. She could’ve left it in the MGB, behind the seats, been waiting for him when he drove up, and when he opened the door, reached behind for the gun and blasted him.’
He beamed. ‘That’s just the point, Dave. If she’d left the gun in the MGB, she’d have to have been waiting for him, meeting him as he drove up. Otherwise, she couldn’t guarantee another chance of getting at it. But if that’d been the case she’d have driven like mad to get there first, not fiddled around like she did.’ He drew himself up. ‘I’m happy he’s dead, and leave it at that.’
‘Leave it at that! You’re going to tell Thwaites that you’re happy to leave it at that?’
‘You can do it, Dave.’
‘You wanted to come here, and get here before the police. You as good as said that. He’ll eat our ears off.’
‘You talk to him. You’re good at it. We came to see her because we knew she couldn’t have done it.’
I got in the car, slamming the door. He was a moment or two following me. I was still furious. I was gentle with him.
‘So she told us the truth, George! That little pantomime with the pistol she said she took with her...oh, that was very real. Only she had all night to work it out. But go on. You believe her, if you want to. Any female who looks at you with big eyes could have you for tea. But just tell me, George, if you’re so damned clever, what we’re left with. If she didn’t do it, it’s got to be a third party. And if their meeting was so hell-fired secret, how could any other person have possibly known where to find the place?’
I had him there. He simply said nothing as he started the engine. But he did not drive away, simply sat there. Then at last:
‘I don’t know how — but there was a third party.’
‘Nonsense.’
‘You heard her say distinctly that she left the MGB with the keys on the driver’s seat.’
‘So she said.’
‘When we found it, the keys were on the passenger’s seat. Tell me how that could’ve happened, unless somebody followed the MGB from the log house and actually got in behind the wheel after she had left it.’
I sighed. It’s no good arguing with George. When I looked across at the flat. I saw the venetian blinds snap open.
‘We’d better phone Thwaites,’ I said.
CHAPTER EIGHT
We got back to the Crown, and Sgt. Williamson was waiting in the lounge with half his pint left and a message for us.
‘The Super wants to see you.’
‘And about time, too,’ said George heartily. ‘Lord, this detecting makes you hungry. I wonder what our landlord can find for us.’
Williamson ordered a re-fill. ‘He said now.’
‘How could he have said now?’ George demanded. ‘When he said it, he couldn’t have known when now would be.’
‘There’s something in that.’
‘So that gives us plenty of time. Dave, what d’you say to steak and kidney?’
I watched him uneasily. George is always tricky to handle; facetious, he’s impossible. ‘Dave?’
‘Oh sure. Anything you say.’
So we sat and ate whilst Williamson drank, and George conned him into promising to drive us to the Station and bring us back. He struck a hard bargain — we had to split the apple pie with him, and in the end the laugh was on us because it turned out to be just round the corner.
Thwaites wanted to see us both. As he put it, the firm. He had a nice tidy desk, nothing cluttering the place. It was all in his mind. No need for paper work, when you can do that. Now, without his hat, he looked older than I had thought, and more weary. He exercised his memory, and spoke.
‘Mr…er...Martin and Mr. Cole.’
‘Mallin,’ I said, ‘and Coe.’
George amplified. ‘We thought it sounded better like that. I mean to say...Coe and Mallin! There’s no magic in it.’
Thwaites plucked at his lower lip. ‘There’re things I’m not happy about,’ he admitted. ‘Your conduct in this business — your continuing interference in police activities.’
George looked at me. ‘What’s he on about?’
‘The way you lost that BMW,’ I suggested.
‘Not,’ said Thwaites sharply, ‘that at all. I can’t say I’m keen to hear you’d guard such a man. But he paid for what he got.’ A tiny smile hovered, then dipped. ‘And I’m quite disgusted at the very idea of expecting — of his expecting, but also of your going along with it — that you’d be able to establish something or other by some...’ His voice tailed off. He’d lost himself in the sentence. He dragged his hands over his haggard face. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘Have you found the gun?’ George asked.
‘What? We’re not discussing that.’
‘Not discussing anything. Super, you are making a balls of this. We’re miles ahead of you.’ Aggressive, that was George.
‘We do seem to be discussing something, after all,’ the Super murmured patiently. He blinked. ‘Just what I wanted to say. You made statements, both of you, but it now seems they were not full. If they had been, I could have got on to that MGB before you did. But no, there was no mention of that.’
‘Oh, come on!’ George appealed.
‘Except in passing.’
‘We were answering questions,’ I pointed out.
‘You’re both ex-policemen. You’d know what would be useful to me. But you offered nothing.’
‘Our duty to the client…’ I gave it a try.
‘Your client’s dead.’
‘So we owe him something.’
‘You offered me nothing. You traced the MGB, and from that the driver of it. Then...no, listen to me, I’ve given you enough rope then you went round there yourselves, before I could possibly have had the opportunity, and primed my best suspect to such good effect that she’s got it off pat.’
I tried to look innocent. ‘We were convinced of her innocence.’
‘Of course you were. You persuaded her and she you.’
I was hurt; his contempt was so underplayed.
‘She now believes implicitly in her own innocence,’ he went on. ‘She blinded me with her sincerity. But fortunately I
’ve been insulated by a wife and two grown daughters. Miss Greaves’s sincerity almost persuaded me to bring her in, but I decided that the sins of the daughters should not be visited on the suspects.’ He whisked out a flashing white handkerchief and dabbed at his lips. Above it, his eyes were bright. ‘Besides, there was the question of the gun. Seeing that you brought it up.’
Clearly there was something that I had not considered. George was sitting there, next to me, nodding, smiling.
‘So you thought of that,’ he said in admiration.
‘I thought of it. But only after wading through dozens of statements, and only because I was looking for a gun. A shotgun, Mr. Coe. And I found it. On paper, I must admit, but nevertheless there it was. Now let me see.’ He steepled his fingers, dredging his memory. ‘He said: “The big one came along and started throwing his weight about, and I tried to send him packing with my shotgun.” You see — a shotgun. And he went on: “But the big oaf was too quick for me.”’
‘No,’ said George, ‘it didn’t take speed. Fletcher was scared of it.’
‘You took the gun from him.’
‘Seems like I did him a good turn.’
‘Perhaps you did. Let me make up my own mind about that. Tell me what you did with it afterwards.’
I could have kicked myself. I’d never given a second thought to Fletcher’s shotgun.
George shrugged. ‘I tossed it out of the car and into the ditch.’
‘But where? That’s what I want to know.’
‘About half a mile down the road.’
‘But out of sight of Fletcher?’
‘Out of his sight.’
‘You could show me on the map?’
‘I could show you.’
I watched them, their backs to me, pouring over a wall map. ‘There?’
‘No, a bit further along.’ Thwaites seemed tiny beside George, and was being very, very polite. What worried me was that George, too, was considerate, and deadly serious.
‘You simply tossed it from your car window, driving past?’
‘Just that.’
‘You didn’t unload it?’
‘I was driving at the time.’
‘Quite so. Well, gentlemen, it’s been a pleasant chat.’ It had not. We moved to the door. ‘We must repeat it some time.’
The Bright Face of Danger Page 8
