‘I still want to try,’ she persisted. ‘Let’s go to the bank.’
‘Let’s not. Let’s go and question some of the people who might have seen Susie Stevenson hanging around the place.’
‘After the bank. It could be shut by the time we’ve done interviews.’
‘Let’s start with the boatman. What’s his address?’
‘That’s for me to know and you to guess,’ Kerr said provocatively.
‘Stop playing idiotic games!’
‘I will when we’ve been to the bank.’
The rest of the journey was accomplished in icy silence. When at last they drew up outside the bank, Kingsley switched off the engine and folded his arms. ‘You can go. I’m not coming in to make a fool of myself.’
‘Better without you.’ Kerr got out and walked into the bank jauntily.
She wasn’t long, and one look at her face told Kingsley she had been successful. But she didn’t speak; he was forced to say, ‘Well?’
‘Thought you’d never ask! The loan manager was just a laddie – couldn’t make up his mind if he was more chuffed at helping in a murder inquiry or feart he’d do the wrong thing.
‘So I said I understood all about confidentiality, but time was important and all I really wanted was a nod or a shake of his head if I got the right answer for why they wouldn’t lend. So I started with bad credit and overdrafts but then I couldn’t think of any other reasons and he was starting to look desperate like someone in one of those game shows where you’re allowed to mime but not say anything.
‘So I said, “Look, I’m not here and you’re not there. If we need something officially I’ll come back with all the paperwork and we’ve never seen each other before.” Then he just sort of burst out, “I didn’t refuse, I told her they’d got it and she said she didn’t want it any longer.” So then I said, “Better out than in,” and that was it, really.’
‘OK, you were right, there was something there,’ Kingsley admitted. ‘She was ready to lie to the bank and to her husband. Would she be prepared to kill Murdoch to prevent Findlay from going to him direct and promising to pay him in instalments, maybe?’
‘He may not have told her he was planning to steal the dog back,’ Kerr pointed out. ‘She’d probably have tried to stop him if he had; it was a pretty daft thing to do, with the DI right on your doorstep. She’d have been better killing the dog instead of Murdoch and putting an end to it.’
‘But you’ve turned up something here,’ Kingsley argued. ‘And do we know the whole story? Is there some back connection with Murdoch, like there was with Watt? I wouldn’t put it past her to have a go at anyone who got in her way, would you?’
‘From what I’ve heard about her, no, I wouldn’t. But we need to do a lot more digging. First staff address?’
‘Yes please, Tansy. Thank you, Tansy. You were right, Tansy,’ Kingsley said mockingly, but he was smiling for the first time that day as they drove off.
Chapter 21
It was a still, sunny evening. In the walled garden at the back of her cottage, Laura Harvey was pouring lemon squash from a jug clinking with ice into a glass for Marjory. Tam MacNee was making inroads into an Export while Daisy panted at his feet, exhausted after a protracted game with a tennis ball.
Marjory had just arrived. Compared to Laura who looked cool and fresh in a sharp yellow linen shirt over jeans, she felt positively grubby in her working trouser suit. She shrugged herself out of her jacket and leaned back in the garden chair, shutting her eyes and tilting her face to the evening sun.
Laura put the glass into her hand and she sat up, drinking it gratefully. ‘I’ve just come from Mum’s. Thanks for popping in, Laura – she was so pleased to see you. Did you say anything to her about Dad? She didn’t mention it, but she seemed much calmer today and I just wondered.’
Laura took her own glass and sat down. ‘She’s intelligent, Janet. I told her about the plaques that Alzheimer’s forms in the brain, and she latched on to that. Her generation was brought up not to believe in mental illness – it was the sort of thing you just had to snap out of – and I think that somewhere at the back of her mind there was an unarticulated belief that he could do that, if she tried hard enough to help him. A physical cause – well, that’s different.’
‘I’d never have thought of that. Laura, would you come with us when Bill and I have to tell her that she can’t cope with him at home? I’m dreading that.’
‘I would, of course. But I think it’ll be possible to get her to accept it gradually. As I said, she’s not stupid. I enjoy my chats with her; we’ll see what happens over the next bit, shall we?’
Marjory raised her glass in a toast to her friend. ‘Thanks, Laura. Don’t ever let them persuade you that you’d be better working from London, will you? – I need you here.’
‘Maybe you could get round to solving our professional problems now too,’ Tam said. ‘We’re in a right fankle, I can tell you that.’
Marjory groaned. ‘Too many strands, all tangled together. Too many suspects.’
Laura was surprised. ‘I thought you’d made an arrest, for one of the murders.’
It was Tam who groaned this time. ‘Let’s kid on we haven’t, all right? It’s what we’re all doing down the nick.’
‘I don’t even know where to start,’ Marjory said helplessly.
Laura thought for a second. ‘What’s the big question? The first one that springs to mind?’
‘Why did Davina Watt come back?’ Marjory said promptly.
‘There you are! Tell me about her.’
Between them, Tam and Marjory sketched out the background, while Laura listened intently. At the end of the recital, she said, ‘It seems to me that the big question you’re not asking is why she went away. Look, you have this woman who disappears, changes her name, wipes out all traces of her previous life – why does someone do that?’
‘Doesn’t want to be found,’ Marjory said, and Tam went on, ‘Scared. And we know she was worried enough about Ingles to want to be told when he was getting out, wanted to be on her guard. She’d stitched him up. So when he was free, he could come looking for her – or at least go snowking around to see if he could prove what she did to him. She wanted to be long gone by the time he did that.’
‘I still think she saw it as a chance for a new life too,’ Marjory argued. ‘Natasha Wintour – she was going to be a different person from plain Davina Watt. Natasha would get what Davina only dreamed of – only it didn’t work out like that. She wanted to be a new person, but the same things happened all over again.’
‘Doesn’t happen. You take yourself with you, no matter where you go.’
‘Right enough,’ Tam approved. ‘So what about the first question – what was she doing coming back here?’
Marjory was frowning. ‘Something changed, didn’t it? Suddenly, it was worth taking the risk. What did she want?’
‘Money,’ Tam said. ‘Like the Super said, it’d be money.’
‘It was running out, in Manchester. The man she was living with told me he’d spent his legacy, she’d tried blackmail, if we’re to believe the barman, and it didn’t look as if she was getting far with that. So she thought there was a better prospect here.’
‘You said she was into wealthy married men. Was there someone whose interest she thought she could revive?’ Laura suggested.
Tam was more cynical. ‘Or someone who would pay to stop her mouth?’
‘Someone,’ Marjory said, ‘who was horrified enough to lose control and kill her there and then. It was that sort of attack. We know that Murdoch met her – could he have had a reason to kill her?’
‘From the sound of her, anyone might. But then, of course—’
They said in unison, ‘Who killed him?’
‘But look – I’m just thinking aloud here,’ Marjory said. ‘We’re pretty sure she came back looking for money. He didn’t have the sort of money she’d be looking for even if he was vulnerable to blackm
ail, which on the face of it seems unlikely. Suppose, when she met him in the pub, she told him what she was planning –
‘Maybe he was her insurance policy, so she could say if she was threatened that someone knew what she was doing. Then, with her dead—’
‘Or maybe before that. He might have decided to get in on the act anyway—’
‘Right enough, we’ve seen nothing to suggest the man had scruples—’
‘That fits, because he was definitely expecting he’d have money at the weekend—’
‘But who from?’
Laura, watching as ideas were batted to and fro, felt the surprise of a spectator at a tennis match being asked to join in when Tam turned to her. ‘So where do we go now?’
‘You seemed to be getting on just fine without me,’ she protested.
‘Oh, we’ve only been covering one angle there,’ Marjory said. ‘There are others – the hit man employed by the Glasgow mafia, Murdoch’s wife and daughter who are behaving very strangely—’
‘And your friend Susie Stevenson,’ Tam said slyly.
‘Susie Stevenson?’ Laura asked. ‘Marjory’s told me about the problem with her – but is she involved in this?’
‘It’s just Jon Kingsley flying a kite,’ Marjory began, then, remembering suddenly – and with a certain unreasonable resentment – his link with Laura, added, ‘Oh, he’s very smart, of course, and he’s picked up on something there. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet, but Davina was so badly beaten up before she was killed that I can’t imagine a woman being at the heart of it.’
Tam was less sensitive. ‘Here, Laura, you and him – have you clicked?’
Laura coloured. ‘No, Tam, we haven’t “clicked”, as you so elegantly put it. If you want a full statement about the extent of our acquaintance, I went out with him in his boat last Sunday and then he took me for a pub lunch – in Wigtown, though I’m sorry I’m afraid I can’t remember the name of the pub. Then he came in for a drink after they’d arrested Keith Ingles and didn’t stay because he’d to go back to work. All right, Tam?’
Tam looked abashed, and she relented. ‘Actually, I wasn’t much impressed then. I’ve told him I’m considering whether or not I want to see him again.’
Tam chortled. ‘Deferred sentence to allow him to be of good behaviour, eh? That explains it.’
‘Tam!’ Marjory reproved him as Laura looked at him with a certain frostiness. ‘It’s just that Jon asked me to tell you he was being a good boy.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Laura said, though she didn’t sound entirely displeased.
‘I must be going,’ Marjory said getting up reluctantly. ‘I’m going to call in to see if there’s anything more at HQ, then I must get home. And so must you, Tam. Don’t give him another drink, Laura. He doesn’t deserve it.’
Tam rose with dignity. ‘Wasn’t even thinking of accepting the offer. How could I, with a wife, two dogs, three cats and six kittens expecting me back any minute?’
The women laughed, and he left. Marjory hung back. ‘There’s just one thing that keeps nagging at me, Laura. It’s against the run of everything we’ve said tonight, but – children who are single-issue fanatics. Could they really kill?’
Laura was taken aback. ‘Children? Yes, of course they could. If they get into manipulative hands, nothing easier. They can be more callous than adults. Think of boy soldiers in these militias.’
‘Yes,’ Marjory said heavily. ‘I was.’
It was once again around seven o’clock when Jon Kingsley knocked on Laura’s door.
‘Care for a bite to eat?’ he greeted her. ‘I was just passing on my way home.’
There was a chop in the fridge waiting to be grilled, but suddenly that seemed rather sad. ‘Why not?’ she said. ‘Let me get a jacket, and I’m with you. Once the sun goes in it won’t be linen weather.’
As they walked to the High Street, she asked him how it was going. He made a balancing motion with his hand.
‘I think I’m on to something. But I’d appreciate your input.’
Yet again, Laura had the impression that his interest in her was more professional than social. ‘My consultancy fees are very high,’ she said lightly, and he laughed.
‘I wasn’t thinking of the chippie. I booked the Vine Leaf, on the off-chance.’
The Vine Leaf was seriously expensive, which made her uncomfortable. It had been a casual invitation; of course she hadn’t expected a chippie but a cheap ’n’ cheerful Italian would have been more appropriate. It was as if he was trying to buy her into his team – or perhaps he just had a problem with social nuances. He wouldn’t be the first man to suffer from that.
A very elegant young man welcomed them in and led them to a table with a white porcelain vase holding a single pink orchid. Laura looked around the minimalist chic of the decor and raised her eyebrows.
‘My goodness, they must be paying coppers well these days,’ she said dryly.
‘It’s “because you’re worth it”,’ Jon said, indicating quotation marks.
Laura looked at him with revulsion. ‘That’s the cheesiest line I’ve heard in years!’
He smiled smugly. ‘I thought you’d like it. It was a toss-up between that and, “This time next year, I want us to be laughing together.” You may remember our first discussion about chat-up lines?’
She did, and was amused. ‘You are a sod! I thought you were serious.’
‘It’s a talent I have. Now, let’s order. Places like this take forever – confuse “taking a long time” with “doing a good job”, but we can always hope.’
It came across as a bit ‘city-sophisticate-slumming-it-in-the-sticks’, but she was prepared to make allowances. And he did start by asking her, with apparent interest, how the new book was going; when he got round to saying, ‘Would it be a bore if I asked your advice about the case?’ it felt more natural, in the context of talking about each other’s jobs. And anyway, she did have some curiosity to see how his take on it would differ from the one she’d heard earlier from Marjory and Tam.
‘This is between ourselves, OK? I think I’m on to something. I don’t know what Marjory’s said to you—’
He glanced at her, but one of the first lessons she learned as a psychotherapist was to show no reaction other than calm interest. So he went on, ‘There’s this woman, Susie Stevenson. She and Marjory have some sort of feud that goes back to the foot-and-mouth business, but for some weird reason she and her husband are living at Mains of Craigie. Findlay, the husband, has an obsession with a collie Niall Murdoch was threatening to put down. He stole the dog back the night of Murdoch’s murder, but that’s not the point.
‘The point is, we’ve discovered she’s lying to us about a couple of things. The most significant is that she said she hadn’t seen Murdoch for years, but two of the staff can speak to her having a blazing row with him the day before he was killed. And years ago Davina Watt almost sabotaged their engagement; it could be that she was trying to wreck their marriage, or that if Susie knew she’d returned, she thought she was. Does that work, psychologically, as motivation for murder?’
‘Well, yes, of course it does.’ She leaned back to allow the waiter to put down a plate of scallops in front of her. ‘But surely, in police work, evidence of motivation isn’t enough?’
‘No, no, of course not. Motive isn’t even something you have to prove, to get a guilty verdict, provided you have hard evidence. But you see, in these two cases it’s hard to know how much hard evidence we’re likely to get. She – or he – has been pretty clever about that.
‘If we don’t find something soon, we have to work towards a rock-solid theory that convinces us we know who did it. Keep the case open, wait and hope for confirmation. And you see—’ He looked down, playing with the stem of his wine glass. ‘I screwed up, last time. I helped my sergeant bang someone up for it who, quite honestly, I don’t now think is guilty.
‘Oh, I believed it at the time. You may remem
ber how excited I was, last time I saw you – but there was someone that very evening, committing the next murder.
‘So I’ve blotted my copybook. In the Force, you’re only as good as your last conviction, and despite what I’ve achieved in the past, if I don’t come up with the answer on this one, that’s what they’ll think of when they’re looking to make up the next sergeant.’
He was very intense about this. Laura chose her words carefully. ‘You don’t think, perhaps, you’re trying too hard? That without real evidence you could be in danger of picking on the wrong person again?’
‘The evidence we do have seems to me to suggest Susie Stevenson. However—’ He shrugged, then changed tack. ‘What’s Marjory thinking about this?’
‘Why don’t you ask her?’ Laura parried.
‘I don’t suppose she’d tell me. She’d tell Tam, of course, and Tansy maybe. But I get left out of the loop all the time.’
The waiter came to remove their plates, and Laura had time to think about that. She could see there was a certain justice to his claim.
‘As far as I know,’ she said carefully, ‘she’s still got an open mind, looking at everything that comes in.’
Jon’s face brightened. ‘She’ll probably go for the Stevenson angle, then. It would suit her pretty nicely, from all I can see, to have the woman carted off to jail instead of fouling her doorstep.’
‘Jon, Marjory wouldn’t work like that!’ Laura protested. ‘She’d fall over backwards to make sure she wasn’t looking at it with personal bias.’
‘Of course, of course.’ He looked round. ‘Ah, here comes your lamb and my steak. I did them an injustice about how long they’d take.’
It was a welcome interruption. Laura didn’t want to go back to the subject of Marjory; she asked him instead about Blackbird and his yachtie enthusiasm saw them through the main course. She refused pudding, and over coffee he went back to the subject of crime. In her experience, police officers were unable to keep away from it for long.
Lying Dead Page 32