'Shut up!' Crispin's self-control broke, and the raw anger in his eyes shocked her into silence. 'Linc wouldn't do that.'
Linc could see by Nikki's expression that for the first time she was realising her hold on Crispin was slipping away.
'I'll tell you,' Fagan offered, clearly accepting that things were over for him and determined to get every ounce of enjoyment that he could out of Nikki's fall from grace.
She glowered at him, and he grinned nastily.
'I worked for her old man, in the clubs, but I had a spot of trouble and had to leave London in a hurry. Well, I knew Nikki'd got herself a cushy number up here, and I thought, considering what we'd shared in the past, she might like to help an old friend out. She was quite pleased to see me. Very pleased, in fact!' he added with a meaningful leer. 'And after we'd got reacquainted she said she'd help me get a job – you know, give me references and the like – if I'd help her with a little problem she had.'
Nikki put her hand on Crispin's arm. 'You can't listen to him! He knows he's in the shit and he'll say anything to drag me down with him.'
Crispin shook her hand off.
'Go on,' he invited quietly, staring at Fagan with a steady intensity that belied the torment he must have been feeling, and Linc's heart went out to him.
'Well, like I said, she'd got herself a cushy number here, but being my Niks, she wasn't satisfied. She'd set her heart on a title, and all that stood in her way was her brother-in-law here. But it seemed that he'd got on the wrong side of some rough types, so Nikki reckoned, with a little planning, we could do away with Mr Viscount-in-waiting, her adoring hubby would step into the title, and no one would be any the wiser. She said once she was Lady of the Manor she'd see I was all right.'
Through the open window, over the rumbling of the stones, they heard the swish of car tyres turning on to the asphalt surface of the car park, but Crispin and Linc were intent on what Fagan had to say, and only Nikki went to look out.
'Quick!' she said, rushing back. 'Terry, we have to get out of here!'
Fagan gave her a scornful look. 'And where do you suppose we'd go?' he asked, sniffing. 'Even supposing I still gave a shit about you, which I don't. You're not that hot as a lover, you know!'
Nikki flushed red with humiliation. 'You never complained.'
'It passed the time,' he observed.
'You bastard!' Her slap rocked him back but he countered with one of his own, which brought tears to her eyes.
'That's enough!' Crispin said sharply, instinctively stepping in to shield his wife.
By Linc's side, Tiger was leaping and straining at his collar.
'What did she get you to do?' he asked Fagan. 'Did you plant the note on my car that day in Blandford?'
'Nah, that was Nikki. She said someone was threatening you, and she wanted to keep the pressure up. It was her idea to drug you, too. The night you had that little party in the village.'
'You were in the car park!' Linc said, remembering suddenly. 'When I came out of the hall, you were sitting in one of the cars.'
Fagan nodded. 'Yeah. She slipped you the Mickey, I was supposed to finish the job. But the stupid bitch used too much, didn't she?'
'GHB.'
'Yeah, GHB. Or GBH, as they call it round the clubs. I told her I wasn't sure of the mix but she still ballsed it up. The amount she must've given you, it was touch and go whether you'd even get out of the hall.'
'I didn't know how much he'd drink,' Nikki complained, stung into betraying herself completely. She stepped out from behind her husband. 'He kept saying he couldn't stay and I was worried he wouldn't have had enough.'
'But . . .' Crispin stopped short, shaking his head and laughing humourlessly. 'Christ, listen to me! I was just going to say you could have killed him, when of course that's what you were trying to do! You see, I just can't seem to get my head round it. My own wife has been sleeping with her personal trainer and plotting to kill my brother – it's quite simple really. I can't think why I have a problem with it.'
'Cris, don't beat yourself up,' Linc said quietly. 'You couldn't have known.'
'You ballsed it up, too,' Nikki retorted. Absorbed in her row with Fagan, she seemed to have forgotten her audience for the time being. 'You only had to push his car into the fucking stream, but you couldn't even do that right!'
'I told you what happened! Some bloke came along in the middle of it. What the hell was I supposed to do, push him in too?'
'You could have thought of something! After all my hard work in setting it up.'
'And what about the business with Pepper?' Linc said, hearing voices below, indistinct over the noise of the machinery. 'You're a devious little cow, aren't you? Trying to frame Reagan. It almost worked, too, but those initials were a mistake. It was a touch too far. And then I spoilt it all by sorting Pepper out myself. You really should choose your tools more carefully. He was mad at me, but I don't think he would have killed me.'
While he was speaking, suddenly, blessedly, the nerve-jangling drone of the machinery began to slow and within seconds had stopped completely as the stones ground to a halt.
'He didn't have to. Terry was there to finish the job,' Nikki said into the ensuing silence. 'Everybody knew the old fart had been threatening you, and then of course Reagan would have found your body. Throw in the note, and the cops would have been so busy trying to decide which of them had done it, they'd never have thought of looking for anyone else. It would have been the perfect cover if Pepper hadn't fucked up!'
'Reagan said he thought he saw someone in the trees, but I didn't really believe him,' Linc stated, thinking back.
'Terry was with me,' Nikki said. 'But you were late and then Pepper took so bloody long that Reagan turned up, so he had to hide.'
'And Noddy?' Linc prompted, aware that the voices below had quietened, presumably listening. Thank God whoever it was had had the knowledge and sense to close the sluice gate and stop the wheel.
'It was worth a try. You gave me the idea yourself. You were always so paranoid about him rubbing his legs and getting grease in his eyes. But I didn't want to hurt him. I just thought he might bolt and throw you off.'
'Nikki . . .' Crispin's tone was despairing.
'Oh, for Christ's sake, Cris!' she said scornfully. 'I was only doing what you should have done if you'd had any balls. You're the one who stayed at Farthingscourt with your old man. Why should you let Linc come waltzing back in after all that time to cheat you out of what could have been yours?'
'But I never wanted the title,' Crispin protested, shaking his head in disbelief. 'I've always known it would go to Linc. I don't want the title, and I certainly don't want the responsibility that goes with it. I'm quite happy the way things are and – fool that I am – I thought you were, too.'
'But we could have had more,' she persisted, apparently unable to accept his point of view as genuine.
'But why attack Josie?' Linc asked. 'She's no threat to you. Was it jealousy?'
'Oh, please! Get over yourself! You're not God's gift, you know!'
'Then why?' he persisted.
'Oh, for God's sake! Because she's pregnant, of course. There's no point getting shot of you if the little bitch is going to produce an heir.'
'Pregnant?' It was Linc's turn to be shocked. 'She's not pregnant! What gave you that idea?'
'Oh, I could tell you had some secret you were keeping to yourselves, and then the other night . . . All that "I'm not hungry. I think I must be going down with something . . ." It didn't take a genius.'
'Well, this time you got it wrong. You put two and two together and came up with five, and because of that she nearly died! You're a sick woman, Nikki.'
'I didn't want to hurt Josie,' Nikki said regretfully. 'I liked her, but she had what I wanted . . .'
'You don't give a damn about anyone, you heartless bitch!' Fagan broke in. 'You and your sodding mother! A couple of scheming bitches! No wonder your father's got ulcers!'
'She only wa
nts what's best for me,' Nikki said defensively. 'She married beneath herself, and didn't want me to do the same.'
'Don't worry, my dear,' Fagan said with heavy emphasis. 'You couldn't!'
'I think we've heard enough,' a new voice remarked, and DS Manston climbed the last few steps to the stone floor, still wearing elements of his rustic Georgian costume.
Twisting round in Linc's grasp, Tiger lunged towards the policeman and said something very rude.
'Hey, no, Tiger! He's one of the good guys,' Linc told him severely, bringing him back to heel.
'He's been too long with Sandy,' Manston observed, eyeing the dog with disfavour. 'Old habits die hard.'
Somewhere outside, sirens could be heard approaching.
'Ah, back-up,' the sergeant said. 'Not that there'd be much point in either of these two making a run for it after that little performance. A pretty comprehensive confession, I'd say, from what I heard.'
'Yeah, though I wouldn't call it pretty. God knows what my father will say,' Linc commented, with a sigh. 'But thank heaven you're here. Have you seen Josie? Is she okay?'
'She's fine. She's down below with her father,' Manston said. 'She found Mrs Tremayne's radio in her car and put out a Mayday call. She was worried sick about you, but she's a sensible girl and knew she couldn't do anything herself. As it happens, we would have been on our way here shortly anyway. Your collective disappearance had been noted, and the general consensus was that someone should look into it. Luckily the Hathaways had spotted me at the fair and were just enlisting my help when Josie's message came through. I made a call to the station for back-up, and then her father and I came on over, but it looks like you'd already got it all sorted.'
Linc shook his head. 'Only just. We had something of a standoff and if it hadn't been for Sandy's anti-social hound, we probably still would have. The little bugger saved my bacon at least twice today, if not more!'
Manston laughed. 'Guardian angels come in some odd disguises.'
He glanced with interest at Fagan, who was still having trouble with his eyes. 'So, who have we here, I wonder?'
'Terry Fagan. Sometime club bouncer and fitness instructor,' Linc supplied.
'His real name is Terry Fairfax,' Nikki amended, relishing the chance to get even. 'He's wanted in London for assault and possession of drugs but he's a dealer, too. I can give you names and details.'
'You fucking bitch!' Fagan spat the words. 'Don't forget, you're going down too, and I know enough people to make sure your life is hell on the inside! You'll wish you'd kept your poisonous little trap shut!'
'All right, that's enough,' Manston said evenly. 'Let's take this down to the station, shall we?'
A uniformed officer appeared at the top of the stairs, breathing hard.
'Sir?' He looked enquiringly at the DS.
'Ah, good,' Manston said. 'You can read Mr Fairfax his rights and take him in. You'll need to get the doc to look at those eyes, they look nasty.' He sniffed the air and glanced at Linc. 'What was it, paint stripper?'
Linc nodded.
'And the charge?' the newcomer asked.
Manston pursed his lips, thoughtfully. 'Take your pick, really. But attempted murder will do to be going on with, I should think. Josie Hathaway and Lincoln Tremayne.'
The PC took hold of Fagan's arm and led him towards the stairs.
'I'm arresting you for the attempted murder of Josie—' 'Yeah, yeah, I know the drill,' Fagan cut in, but the officer was not to be put off and could be heard informing him of his rights as they descended to the ground floor.
Those remaining transferred their attention to Nikki, whose face had turned ashen, and Linc thought that probably the bleakness of her foreseeable future was only just hitting home. Her next words confirmed it.
She turned to Crispin and clung to his arm, her eyes pleading. 'I can't go to jail! Cris, tell them! I'm a Tremayne! What would your father say?'
He shook his head grimly, peeling her fingers off his arm and pushing her away. 'You've made your bed, now you've got to lie on it. You're nothing to me any more. I think I have pretty good grounds for divorce.'
'Come on, Mrs Tremayne, time to go,' Manston said. 'I have to read you your rights.'
'No, wait! What about our baby?' she asked Crispin in a voice growing shrill with panic. 'You can't let your child be born in jail! Think of the scandal!'
'If there is a baby . . .' Linc didn't quite know why he said it, but as soon as he saw Nikki's expression he knew he'd guessed right, even though the denial came instantly.
Linc shook his head in disgust and turned away as Manston put a hand on her back in order to shepherd her towards the stairs. 'Nikki Tremayne, I'm arresting you for attempted murder . . .'
'There was a baby,' she shouted over her shoulder. 'I didn't lie about that . . . but I lost it.'
Shattered, Crispin stood and watched his wife being led away, probably too numb for tears, Linc thought.
'Cris?' he ventured tentatively.
Crispin didn't answer. He moved past Linc to close the window and then just stood looking out. Linc went to stand close behind him and after a moment or two Manston and Nikki appeared down below, heading for the car park. Crispin gave no sign that he'd seen them; he appeared to be staring into space.
'I might have a jumper in the car,' Linc said, feeling helpless in the face of his brother's grief. After the harsh words and emotional turmoil that had gone before, he wasn't entirely sure how their relationship stood. Suddenly, the words pushed past his guard and spilled out. 'Oh, Cris, I'm so bloody sorry it had to come to this! Bloody, sodding Nikki! I wish I'd never met her! Forgive me?'
Crispin turned his head, his expression desolate and his eyes shining with tears. 'I loved her,' he said simply. 'I thought she loved me.'
Aching with sympathy, Linc instinctively stepped up to his brother's side and, because there really wasn't anything else to say, enfolded him in a huge, silent hug.
For a moment Crispin held back, then he accepted the offered comfort, buried his face in Linc's shoulder and gave way to his wretchedness.
It was some five minutes later when Josie came up to find Linc and by that time Crispin had his emotions well under control. With typical tact she affected not to see the obvious signs of his distress and addressed Linc in a very matter-of-fact tone.
'Manston's gone. He says he'll need a detailed run down of what happened, but thankfully it can wait until tomorrow. I called Mary on the radio and gave her the gist of things so she can fill your father in and let Nikki's mum know. Nikki was asking for her,' she explained.
'Thanks.' Linc was grateful to have that task taken off him. 'And you? How's your arm?' Somebody had replaced the makeshift sling that Crispin had fashioned for her with a more professional-looking one.
'It throbs a bit. Dad did this, he's got an incredible first aid kit in the boot of his car. I should imagine he could cope with just about anything short of open-heart surgery,' she joked. 'He's a fierce exponent of the theory that God helps those who help themselves. Anyway, he reckons I might have cracked something, but most likely it's just badly sprained. All that cold water therapy probably did it the world of good!'
'All the same, we should get you checked out. And you must be exhausted.'
'Mmm, quite tired, but Dad'll take me to A and E. I thought you could probably do with this back,' she said, holding out Crispin's shirt.
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