‘Routine,’ Macdonald said. ‘But if you do hear from Randall it would be very much in his interests to persuade him to contact us immediately.’
She wasn’t a stupid woman and he could see that she was making connections but she said nothing more than, ‘I see,’ and then, ‘Goodbye,’ as they left.
There was, Macdonald thought, real anger there, but by the end of the interview she had looked very weary, defeated almost. Given her problems – her business, her lover, her son – it wasn’t surprising.
Skye Falconer looked as if the puff of air from the door closing as Fleming and MacNee entered the interview room might blow her off her seat. She was thinner than ever; her eyes were swollen and her cheeks hollow and raw from the salt of tears.
As Fleming sat down and MacNee performed the formalities for the tape, including repeating that the interview was taking place under caution, her brief jutted his chin aggressively.
‘As I told you on the phone, my client is ignoring my advice in deciding to talk to you. In her best interests, I will be repeating that recommendation. I beg you to listen to me, Skye!’
Damien Thomson turned to try to catch her eye, but Skye gave no sign of having heard him. He sat back, throwing his hands up in a gesture of despair.
Fleming could understand his protective instincts. In the face of this small, broken creature, who could help it? From the look on MacNee’s face, she could tell that the words, ‘Poor wee soul!’ were forming in his mind.
She had to harden her heart, though, and remember that this was a suspect who had at the very least been present at one of the murders and had a strong connection with a second. She could go easy to start with, anyway. But just as she opened her mouth to ask the first question, Skye began.
‘I want to tell you it all. I don’t care what happens to me. Will’s dead – nothing matters any more.’ Tears started as she said the words but, uncannily, she didn’t sob; she didn’t seem to notice she was crying though the tears must have stung her sore cheeks as they spilt over.
‘We kept in touch with Connell, a bit, after he did his disappearing act and I persuaded Will to take me with him to Canada. Will had helped him to do it, you see – there was – it would have been …’
She hesitated. Fleming said gently, ‘He couldn’t afford an investigation that would have implicated him too?’
‘Yes, well, I suppose so. But Will didn’t deal in drugs, really – he just, well, had them, sometimes. Not much.’
‘Where was Connell, during the time he was away?’ Fleming asked.
‘Living in a flat in Birmingham. We never emailed or phoned, just in case it got tracked, but we had his address if we needed to get in touch. Actually, we never used it. We weren’t really friends. I was always kind of scared of him, to be honest. Don’t know what he was doing – he didn’t tell us.’
No prizes for guessing, Fleming thought, with a significant glance at MacNee.
‘Then we got this letter,’ Skye went on. ‘It was back in March. Just – out of the blue. A letter … and it said—’
Without warning, she broke down, uttering great wrenching cries, hunching over as if in terrible pain.
‘That’s enough.’ Thomson stood up. ‘I insist that we terminate the interview here. My client isn’t fit—’
‘I have to! You can’t stop me.’ Shuddering, Skye sat up, struggling for control. ‘I need to get it over with, to explain.
‘Oh God, the letter! If it hadn’t been for that, and carelessness – it was my fault, my fault, of course it was, but it didn’t deserve punishment like this for me or for—’ She choked.
Thomson, who had sat down again, was starting to look almost as distressed as his client. ‘This is intolerable—’
‘Do you wish to terminate the interview, Skye?’ Fleming said.
Skye shook her head vehemently. ‘No, no! It’ll be worse if I put it off.’
MacNee poured her a glass of water from a carafe on a side table, and drinking it seemed to calm her.
‘What did the letter say?’ Fleming was anxious to divert her from the tidal wave of guilt that had clearly overpowered her.
Skye took a deep breath. ‘It said, “What I gave to Julia wasn’t fatal. I didn’t kill her. I want to know who did.”’
It was all Fleming could do not to gasp. It was MacNee who said, ‘Did you know?’
‘No, of course not! It was rubbish. She wasn’t killed, she’d just taken too much stuff—’
‘Did Will believe it?’ Fleming cut in.
‘No.’ Then she paused. ‘I don’t think so. He said he didn’t, but with what happened …’ Her voice tailed away.
‘So, you arranged to meet Connell?’
‘Yes. There was the Homecoming Party, you see. Kendra sent Will the invitation and he’d been thinking maybe of trying to get a job back here. So we could do that and see Connell at the same time, sort out what he was talking about, get the others to talk to him too, if need be. He was always besotted about Julia and we needed to reassure him – no one would hurt her, she was a lovely girl.
‘We came over a bit beforehand. Will had a couple of people in Glasgow he was going to talk to about a job. Then Connell wanted us to meet him down here. We … we didn’t know why at the time, why not Glasgow? But he’d been planning it all along. We just didn’t realise—’
She broke off to bite at her thumbnail, tearing a sliver of skin away until it bled. The other nails, too, were ragged and bitten down to the quick.
The tension in the room was palpable. MacNee was leaning forward as if that would let him catch her words more quickly, Thomson was rigid in his chair and Fleming felt her own pulse quicken.
Thomson spoke first. ‘Stop! Don’t say anything else until I’ve talked to you, Skye.’
She dismissed him with a gesture, like someone swatting away an irritating fly.
‘We met in a pub in Castle Douglas – nine o’clock. Not very convenient – we’d have a long drive back to Glasgow – but it was an edgy situation, you know?
‘We didn’t like to argue. Connell was always …’ She paused. ‘It’s hard to explain, sort of dangerous. I think that’s why Julia liked him, the excitement of it, the buzz, but I don’t think any of the rest of us did – oh, except Jen. I think she seriously fancied him, but with Connell it was always Julia.
‘He was looking really haggard, and his eyes – he’d these very dark eyes and now they looked …’ she considered the next word, ‘haunted – haunted by Julia’s memory, I suppose.
‘He got in the drinks and then he started talking about the Cyrenaics, asking about what the others were doing. It felt uncomfortable, like he was making small talk to put off discussing it, but he was watching us all the time. It was giving me the creeps. At last Will asked him what he’d meant about Julia’s death? Connell stared right at him. He looked – oh, I don’t know, sort of lit up from inside with anger or something. He started talking about Ecstasy in Julia’s system that night.
‘Well, everyone knew he didn’t deal in E – too unpredictable, he always said. You’d have to be crazy to give it to Julia on top of what she was taking already – but quite honestly, that wouldn’t have stopped Julia taking it herself. She was – well, just away, really.
‘He said he’d only just discovered that the inquest had found it was the combination that killed her, and then he accused Will of giving it to her.’
‘Had he?’ Fleming asked, her voice as gentle as she could make it.
‘No,’ Skye said, then hesitated. ‘Well, he said he hadn’t but – Will wasn’t always – straightforward.’ Her mouth twisted in pain, at some memory, perhaps. But she went on, ‘I could see he was sweating, wiping his forehead and his mouth. I didn’t think anything of it, just that he was under a lot of pressure, that he was upset.
‘Oh, maybe he had done it – he did have drugs, sometimes. And Julia was always – sort of hungry, if you know what I mean.’
Fleming nodded. ‘Go on.’
‘Then Connell just said flatly, “You’re lying.” He wanted us all to go to The Albatross so he could talk to Logie and Kendra, see what they’d say when he challenged Will. “They were there – they’ll know what you did.” He kept saying that whenever we tried to say it wouldn’t help.
‘Will and I looked at each other. I was really uncomfortable, I didn’t want to go – I was scared of Connell, really, but Will just said we should go with him, that they might know where she really got it from. He was looking a bit strange but I just thought it was because Connell was getting to him.
‘So we went out to his car – he insisted that we could talk on the way and he’d bring us back. I got in the front beside Connell, Will was in the back.
‘It was a terrible night – rain, wind, storm. We drove down through Dalbeattie, then on to the road towards Ballinbreck. There was lightning and the river was running high – I could hear it even above the engine of the car.
‘Connell had said we were going to talk but then he didn’t say anything and Will didn’t either. I didn’t think anything about that – we hadn’t got anywhere arguing with him before.
‘We were a few miles from Ballinbreck when suddenly Connell stopped. He leant across me and opened the door and told me to get out. I thought he’d gone mad.
‘I said, “What do you mean, Connell? It’s pouring with rain, we’re in the middle of nowhere.” He said he meant that I should get out of the car – he started pushing me. I screamed, “Will!” but he didn’t answer and Connell just laughed.
‘I was desperate, clinging on to the door, but when I looked round I could see Will was fast asleep. I kept screaming and screaming but he didn’t react and then I saw that Connell had something in his hand, a sort of stick thing with a knob at the end—’
‘A cosh?’ MacNee suggested.
Skye shrugged. ‘Probably. He threatened to hit me with it and then he gave me such a hard push that I fell out – landed on the side of my face against a stone. He chucked my bag out after me and then he slammed the door and drove on.
‘I was distraught. He must have spiked Will’s drink and I could see what he was going to do but I was helpless. I didn’t even have my mobile – it was back in the car at the pub.
‘I walked and walked, for hours, it felt like, hoping for a house or a car I could flag down – though what could they do, anyway? But it was such a terrible night – only two cars passed and I don’t think they even noticed me.
‘Then I saw the tracks. There were broken branches and tyre marks, and I just knew – Connell had driven it into the water. He really had committed suicide this time and taken Will with him. I peered through the hedge but there was no sign of the car, just black water, running fast and high.
‘I think I went into shock. I just walked on, and then I saw the lights of a house and – well, the rest you know.’
Skye slumped and her solicitor, who was looking shocked himself, stepped in. ‘Miss Falconer has been cooperative beyond your wildest dreams, Inspector. I think she’s had enough – more than enough.’
Fleming ignored him. ‘Tell me about Mrs Margrave, Skye.’
‘Oh, she was a lovely lady – so kind. I couldn’t tell her, I couldn’t thank her, even. I just – just couldn’t speak. I felt like I was paralysed. Shock, I suppose. I stayed the night and then left in the morning.’
‘But you didn’t contact us, once you’d recovered?’
‘What would be the point? He was dead and I didn’t care about anything else, just wanted to cower away like a sick animal – and Jen was a true friend …’ She gave a sad little smile. ‘Not sure she is now, though.’
‘When did you realise that Will wasn’t dead after all?’
‘Oh, I’ll never forget it – that moment! Jen just came in and mentioned she’d seen Will and it was – I don’t know, like the sun had come out or a brass band had started playing. I hadn’t told her what had happened and she’d been good about not quizzing me, so I just acted casual. I don’t know what she thought. I just felt dazed. The drug must have been wearing off, I suppose, and my screaming woke him – and it was Connell went into the river, not Will. I was so happy.
‘But then I wondered – why hadn’t he been looking for me? He hadn’t asked Jen about me and he knew she’d be more likely to know than anyone else.
‘You see—’ Skye faltered, and tears gathered in her eyes again. ‘I was never sure of him. Perhaps he was tired of me, glad of the excuse to get rid of me. I had to work so hard, so hard to keep him. And I’m not sure I did, really.
‘There was the party – I thought I’d go looking my best and surprise him. Then—’ Her hands went up to cover her face.
After a moment Fleming said softly, ‘Then …?’
Skye gave a great sigh. ‘Connell’s letter,’ she said. ‘I’d had the letter in my bag. I’d forgotten all about it until I was looking for a top to wear to the party and I suddenly realised it wasn’t there. It wasn’t anywhere in the room, either.
‘I realised I must have dropped it when I took my stuff out of my bag at Mrs Musgrave’s house to let it dry by the heater. Julia’s mother was going to find a letter that said someone had killed Julia.’
Thomson looked aghast. ‘Skye, stop there,’ he said, though without much conviction.
Fleming said quickly, ‘So what did you do?’
‘I had to phone Will. He was stunned to hear my voice, said he’d thought Connell had killed me earlier. And then I had to tell him what had happened with the letter.’
‘How did he react?’ Fleming asked.
‘Shocked, I think. Then he just said there was nothing we could do.’
‘That was all?’
‘Yes. That’s all I know.’ Skye sagged in her chair as if she no longer had the strength to sit upright.
Even so, Fleming went on, ‘And do you think Will might have killed her even so, wanted to stop someone investigating Julia’s death?’
She gave a little sob. ‘Oh please, no! Surely he couldn’t … She was such a kind lady. I could have died of cold – and I didn’t even thank her. What she thought—’ She was starting to slur her words from sheer exhaustion.
You could only feel pity. Fleming said gently, ‘I think she was very sorry for you. She called you her little mermaid.’
Skye’s eyes, too big for her pinched face, filled again. ‘The little mermaid! Oh God, yes. Every day with Will, it was as if I were walking on knives too, just like she was with her prince, afraid he would leave me. And now he’s gone!’
As she broke down completely, Fleming got up. ‘I will put in hand Miss Falconer’s release on bail and I’ll make an immediate report to the fiscal. Interview terminated, 15.25 p.m.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
‘I’m still feeling dazed, to be honest,’ DI Fleming said, when she had briefed her team on Skye Falconer’s confession.
‘The best bit was her brief’s face,’ MacNee said. ‘Thought he was going to have a coronary a couple of times.’
‘So are we accepting this – that Will Stewart killed Kane in selfdefence?’ Macdonald asked.
‘Having killed Julia, maybe even accidentally, then went on to strangle her mother to stop questions being asked?’ Hepburn was enthusiastic. ‘That would all fit.’
‘Didn’t kill himself, though,’ Campbell pointed out.
‘Exactly,’ Fleming said. ‘I don’t buy it, Louise. Apart from anything else, Stewart’s not a stupid man and he was a copper – he knew perfectly well about standards of proof. A letter like that from a convicted drug dealer isn’t evidence. He’d have to have been mad to take the risk of committing murder instead of simply stating that Kane was delusional. No, I’m afraid nothing’s that simple. OK, we know now why Kane came back but we’re no nearer to understanding why he only recently found out about the inquest verdict. Did someone contact him? And if so, why.’
‘And why now?’ said Campbell.
‘That’s a bit weird,’ Ma
cNee agreed. ‘Suddenly someone just takes a wee notion to stir up trouble? Nothing on the telly and they got bored?’
‘I could understand that, with all this referendum stuff,’ Hepburn said with feeling. ‘But there must have been a trigger, surely.’
‘The Homecoming party?’ Macdonald suggested. ‘Whoever wrote it knew that the Cyrenaics would be coming back together again.’
‘Philippa Lindsay would definitely know,’ Hepburn said. ‘And Randall, possibly. And of course Kendra and Logie would hear from Will that he was coming. Jen Wilson – maybe, maybe not. But why would you want to cause trouble just because they were going to be together again?’
‘There’s folks just like trouble,’ MacNee said darkly.
‘Hey, wait a minute!’ Hepburn was off again. ‘Will was killed in the end, right? Maybe someone planned to kill him all along – like Philippa, say, being mad jealous because he’d gone off with someone else, or Kendra, even – and one of them wrote the letter hoping that if Connell thought Will had killed Julia that he’d do it for them?’
Macdonald was impressed. ‘And then, I suppose, things just went wrong and the rest could have followed from that. So we need to ask who might want Stewart dead, and why?’
Fleming had listened, saying nothing. Now she said, ‘I think starting another hare running about motivation is counterproductive. Let’s focus on what we can establish from Skye’s evidence. We know that Stewart helped Kane to disappear. We know that he had Kane’s address. Who else had it? Who knew where he was and knew he wasn’t dead?’
‘Not Jen Wilson, anyway,’ Macdonald said confidently. ‘She passed out with shock when we told her.’
‘Didn’t,’ Campbell said.
Macdonald bristled. ‘What do you mean? I only just caught her before she hit the floor.’
‘Passed out when you told her he was dead. Again.’
‘Oh.’ Macdonald thought about it. ‘I suppose that’s right.’
Fleming said sharply, ‘Suggesting she’d thought he was alive? If you believed someone was dead anyway, I can’t see that being told he’d been alive before but was dead now would make you faint. That’s quite significant.
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