The Fourth Cart

by Stephen R P Bailey

  Chapter Forty-Two

  The murder of a parliamentarian during the early hours of Sunday morning featured predominantly amongst news items for the remainder of the weekend. First thing Monday morning, as Parliament sat in session, the Home Secretary was given the floor to offer a personal tribute to his old friend.

  Magee caught the speech on a radio in his office. After a couple of minutes he spat out, ‘What absolute rot!’

  ‘Shush,’ rebuked Melissa. ‘I think this is really moving.’ She leant over Magee’s desk and turned the radio up louder.

  On the radio, Rees Smith was saying, ‘So I would ask the House to join me in observing a moment’s silence in memory of a man who devoted his life to serving the nation to the best of his abilities.’

  Magee had had more than enough of Rees Smith. The silence was welcome. ‘At least he’s shut up.’

  ‘It’s very touching, sir. Didn’t you hear the emotion in his voice when he talked about McAlister once being his best friend? You’ve no heart.’

  ‘I’ve no heart for this bollocks, I know that.’ Magee hit the radio off button with a resolute thud.

  ‘Well I think it was a beautiful tribute. That must have been the best speech of his life; it really seemed to come from somewhere deep inside.’

  ‘Well I say it was the sickest, most hypocritical garbage I’ve ever heard. What really galls me is that he probably prepared it in advance, days ago. It was too slick to have been written yesterday, especially if he’d been grieving as much as he says he has.’

  ‘Perhaps he’s written one for himself as well.’

  ‘Hah!’ Magee grunted. ‘You know something, that wouldn’t surprise me in the least.’

  ‘Do you ever show sympathy, sir?’

  ‘Yes I do actually, but only for deserving cases. Rees Smith is not on any such list.’

  ‘Talking of lists, he’s next. What do you intend to do?’

  ‘Nothing, absolutely nothing. Brigadier Armstrong is keeping an eye on him, but then he’s got security clearance, whereas we haven’t. How the hell are we supposed to keep him under surveillance without letting Special Branch know what’s happening?’

  ‘So we just sit and wait?’

  ‘Until he asks for our help, yes, I think so.’

  ‘In the meantime, what’s the plan?’

  ‘I want to visit Nick Price again. Officially, this time. He gave Brigadier Armstrong’s surveillance team the slip on Saturday, so it could well have been him who made the mystery telephone call to McAlister’s house. We need to conduct a search.’

  ‘He’ll love you for that.’

  ‘Unfortunately, it can’t be helped. My list of suspects is being whittled down rapidly. Most of the remainder either live in Nick Price’s house or are close to him. Come on, let’s go.’

  Magee picked up the paperwork, gathered his team together and left Lewes at the head of a convoy four cars and a van headed out to Cooksbridge. As he drove through the gateway to Price’s Folly, and up the long tree lined drive, he couldn’t help feeling he was finally nearing the end of his quest.

  The arrival of the police vehicles in the front driveway elicited prompt action from within the manor house. Before Magee had rung the doorbell, Nick Price was standing on the doorsteps looking ready for a fight. Magee handed over a search warrant.

  ‘You’re kidding me!’ Nick protested as he read through the warrant. ‘You’ve got a nerve, Magee.’

  ‘I’m sorry, really. But it’s got to be done.’

  ‘Why, though. Why on earth do you still think I have anything to do with these murders? I’m not violent, Magee, I’m a family man. Everyone’s told you that.’

  ‘There are other people who live here, Nick.’

  Nick Price looked shocked. ‘You mean you suspect Nittaya and Somsuk? Are you nuts?’

  ‘Not at all. Now, if you’ll please stand aside. Okay lads, let’s start upstairs and work our way down.’

  ‘Magee, please. This is really inconvenient.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Nick, truly.’

  ‘Please be careful in the house. Please don’t touch any of her things.’

  Magee was puzzled at the odd remark. He nodded to his team and replied, ‘Don’t worry, we’ll be careful.’

  ‘Daddy! What’s going on?’ Nittaya called out from somewhere inside the house. ‘No! Don’t you dare touch that!’

  ‘Magee!’ Nick shouted. ‘Stop this now!’

  ‘Tell me what’s happening, Nick,’ Magee said wandering up a magnificent wooden staircase, ‘and I’ll stop.’

  ‘I can’t do that, Magee,’ Nick shouted up at him. ‘I really don’t know! I keep telling you that.’

  Most of the first floor doors surrounding the open galleried landing were propped open, an officer in each room delicately sifting drawers. Magee stopped outside the one door that was shut. He tried the handle. It was locked. He turned to find Nick Price standing behind him, eyes glaring red. ‘Key, please.’

  ‘That is a very private room, Magee. What’s inside is very personal. I really would prefer you not to go in there.’

  Magee looked expectantly. He held his hand out. ‘Key, please,’ he repeated.

  The look on Nick’s face was enough to kill, but the man did as he was asked. He opened the door, motioned Magee to enter and followed behind shutting the door.

  Magee thought he’d entered a time warp. The furniture, curtains, wallpaper, everything screamed nineteen seventies fashion. And it was all plain, cheap, unglamorous, understated, not at all what he’d expected to find in this palatial house. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, took in the nature of the photographs and clothes scattered around and recognized the morbid nature of the room. A foot high statue of a Buddha, centrepiece of a shrine, caught his attention. He wandered over to it, his eyebrows furrowing at the strange collection of offerings adorning the statue and its surroundings. ‘Are you a Buddhist?’

  ‘Me?’ Nick asked quietly. ‘No, I have no faith in any religion. How could I, after Mal was taken from me?’

  ‘What’s with this statue then?’

  ‘It was Mal’s. She kept it in our room. She would worship in front of it first thing every morning and last thing at night.’

  ‘Why do you keep it?’

  ‘Why keep it? Why do you think? Same as everything else in here, Magee. Everything’s hers, just as she left it in Bangkok. I come in here to remember.’

  ‘Nick, these memories, they’re destroying you. You need to let go.’

  ‘She was the love of my life, Magee.’ Nick spoke softly, his eyes misty. ‘I’d never known the power of love until I met Mal. She gave meaning to my life. She changed me, deep down inside. She gave me warmth. She gave me Nittaya and Somsuk. She gave me happiness.’

  Magee sighed. The room was an unhealthy reminder of the past; a past in which Nick Price was trapped. Magee had seen rooms like it before, a shrine to an obsession. And obsessions often led to abnormal behaviour. ‘Tell me what’s happening, Nick.’

  Nick Price sat down, ran his hand over the record player and stared trancelike towards a chair on the other side of the room. The music started and he hummed along quietly to the classic words.

  Magee was taken aback. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘She comes to me, Magee, whenever I’m in here. We dance sometimes, or just sit and talk about the kids. She was so special to me. She didn’t deserve to die.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘After the accident, I just wanted to hold her close, just one last time. It’s not right, to be denied a funeral. I could never forgive Geoff for that, nor could John, I suppose.’

  ‘Did you kill them, Nick?’

  ‘I’d like to kill Geoff. I told him then that I would.’

  ‘And the others?’

  ‘Why? That’s what I can’t understand,’ Nick continued appearing to be lost in his own thoughts. ‘Why kill the others? John wouldn’t do that, he had no reason. They were his friends.’

/>   ‘You think John Mansell is the killer?’

  ‘It has to be John, or me. It can’t be anyone else. No one had any reason, any motive, other than John and myself.’

  ‘So you admit it was you?’

  ‘It must have been me.’

  ‘Are you making a confession?’

  Nick Price’s head rolled from side to side in time to the music.

  ‘Nick? Talk to me about the murders.’

  Nick rocked backwards and forwards in his chair. Tears were running down his face. ‘Mal says she did it.’

  Magee was stunned. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘She’s here now. She says she killed them.’

  Magee looked around the room. There was no one else present. ‘Why did she kill them, Nick?’

  ‘For revenge.’

  ‘Revenge for killing her?’

  ‘Yeah. It was so unnecessary. Geoff lost it, you see, he flipped. If only he’d stayed calm, it wouldn’t have happened.’

  ‘Geoff was responsible for the death of your wife?’

  Nick Price nodded his head.

  ‘What about the others, Nick? Why did Mal kill them?’

  ‘They just stood back, they let Geoff do it. No one challenged him. They could have stopped him, if they’d really wanted to.’

  Magee sighed. It was obvious Nick was deeply disturbed, maybe even in danger of losing his mind. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen the man act so strangely. In such a case, would a charge stick? Would a jury convict? Was it fair to even try? ‘Nick,’ he finally said, ‘These murders have to stop. You can’t murder a Home Secretary.’

  ‘I know. But Mal will get him. She’s told me that. She’s got a strong will, that one, you won’t be able to stop her.’

  Magee’s ears pricked up on the comment. Did he mean Nittaya instead of Maliwan? Were they in it together?

  The record had stopped. Seconds later it restarted automatically. Nick hummed along with the words, lost in his own world, his eyes moist and out of focus.

  Magee sank forward in his chair, cradling his head, thinking how true was the old adage life goes on after death, but paralyzes those left behind. How in the name of hell was he ever going to sort this mess out, he wondered?

  ‘Come on Nick.’ Magee got up and laid a hand on Nick Price’s shoulder. ‘You’re going to have to come with me.’