'Well, sir, that seems to wrap it up,' said the Chief Inspector. 'I was surprised that the mother was so co-operative, but it looks as if we'll have a nice detailed confession all signed and sealed before we get to bed.'
'It's good for the soul,' answered Dalziel. 'What's your guess - manslaughter?'
'Not for me to say,' answered Balderstone. 'You'll call to see me tomorrow, sir, and we'll get what you've got to say down on paper too? Then it's back to your own patch.'
'That's it,' said Dalziel. 'Eight sharp on Monday morning.'
'Right then. I'm sorry how it's worked out, all this,' said Balderstone making a vague gesture with his hands. 'Tell Mrs Fielding we're waiting in the car.'
He left and Pascoe came out of the bay.
'You still here,' grunted Dalziel.
'You forget, my in-laws have gone off home in my transport. Perhaps I should ask Balderstone for a lift.'
'No. He'll be crowded. You come along with me. I'll just put my gear together.'
'You're leaving?' asked Pascoe in surprise. Such diplomatic gestures were not usual in his superior.
'I can hardly stay on, can I?' said Dalziel. 'Not after . . . well, anyway, it's back to the Lady Hamilton for me. Fitting, really. That's where it all started. Which reminds me.'
He stuck his head out of the door and shouted, 'Charley!'
After a few moments, Tillotson appeared. With him was Louisa. On the whole, Dalziel decided, studying the effect of their almost identical silk tunics, Tillotson was the curvier of the two.
'Is it true?' asked Charley. 'That you've arrested Nigel, I mean?'
'Yes, it is,' said Dalziel. 'I'm sorry.'
'Poor sprout,' said Louisa. 'I told you no good would come of it.'
'But you couldn't foresee this!' protested Tillotson.
'Not precisely. But I could foresee something, which is more than you could do. It takes you all the time to foresee past your stupid pointed nose!' snapped Louisa.
'Don't be ridiculous, Lou,' said Tillotson. 'All Hank did was fix Nigel up with a bit of sex. My God, I sometimes wish he'd fix me up.'
The fist came snaking out in the same fierce, uninhibited punch as before. Tillotson, in whom familiarity seemed to have bred faster reflexes, managed to duck and take the blow on his temple. Even so he staggered a pace backwards and the girl had gone by the time he recovered. Dalziel wisely avoided involvement this time.
'Why did she punch you in the Lady Hamilton?' he asked. It was a question that somehow he had never got round to asking.
'Much the same thing,' answered Tillotson, gingerly touching his head in search of a wound. 'She said it was disgusting, especially as Conrad, her step-father, had been having it off with Mrs Greave too. I told her I didn't blame him, I wouldn't mind myself, and bang! I was knocked flat.'
'You mean you knew? You all knew? About Nigel and Conrad and Annie? Then you must have suspected what had happened when Annie's body was found?'
'Certainly,' said Tillotson. 'You didn't have to be a detective to work that out. Nigel will be all right, won't he? He's only a boy. I say, we made a hell of a lot of cash tonight. We've just been counting it up in the kitchen. Shall I show you the figures?'
'Go away!' said Dalziel. 'Just go away.'
He went upstairs to pack. In the hall he passed Ellie who glowered at him inimically from the shadowy corner she was sitting in. They did not speak.
Before going to his own room he went along the landing and tapped at Hereward's door. There was no answer and he peered inside. The old man's head lay on the pillow, still majestic in repose. He breathed deeply and regularly. It was good to see him looking so peaceful, thought Dalziel approaching the bed.
'I'm sorry about all this, Herrie,' he said. Apologies were easy to the sleeping and the dead. He turned to leave but as he did so, the old man's eyelids flickered and his thin tenor piped almost inaudibly.
'Oh the life of the spirit's a very fine thing
But you can't be a monk without flogging your ring.'
Then the regular ebb and flow of his breathing resumed.
Downstairs with his case, Dalziel found Pascoe and Ellie waiting for him. Bonnie had left with Balderstone, Pascoe told him.
'Did she say anything,' asked Dalziel pointlessly.
'No.'
In the car on their way to Orburn the trio sat in silence for the first five miles. It was Ellie who broke it.
'I suppose we should congratulate you,' she said suddenly.
'What for?' asked Dalziel.
'Coming through with flying colours. All these temptations to act like a human being and you still managed to be true to yourself. The patron saint of policemen must be proud of you. You've told the truth and shamed the devil!'
'Aye,' grunted Dalziel. 'I'm glad to see marriage has mellowed you.'
He pressed viciously on the accelerator and the car leapt forward. Pascoe sitting in the back rammed his knees into the back of Ellie's seat, partly as a safety precaution and partly as a warning. His married life was going to require many such warnings, he told himself. He didn't rate his chances of being a Chief Constable by forty very highly.
'There are still some things I don't understand,' he said in what Ellie called his let's-change-the-subject tone of voice.
'Me too,' said Ellie.
Pascoe ignored her and ploughed on.
'This business of Nigel running away and then coming back and hiding round the house. I mean, why do it? You're not telling me his mother didn't know.'
'No,' said Dalziel. 'Old Herrie didn't at first, though. We almost got ourselves drowned looking for the lad, so Bonnie faked a phone call from him saying he was safe and sound. Quick thinking, that. Someone rang, Spinx I think, and she must have pressed down the rest and pretended she was talking to Nigel.'
He spoke admiringly.
'Yes. But why?' pressed Pascoe. 'And why did Annie Greave ring Spinx ? What was she going to tell him? And what really happened to Spinx? You said you thought he might have been lugged around in the punt? What does Balderstone think?'
'You know me,' said Dalziel. 'I wouldn't presume to tell anyone else how to run their case.'
Jesus wept! thought Pascoe. He'd tell God how to run heaven if he got the chance.
'And I still don't understand why Hereward really decided to invest in the business,' he went on.
'Pressure,' said Dalziel. 'You heard Charley Tillotson. I bet they all knew what was going on. I wouldn't be surprised if Big Brother Bertie hadn't threatened to shop Nigel if Herrie didn't shell out.'
'Happy families,' said Pascoe.
'God, you two are so smug and superior!' exploded Ellie. 'They're people, some nice, some nasty.'
'I know it,' said Dalziel.
'But you don't let the distinction bother you?' she demanded.
He didn't reply and they completed the journey in silence.
'See you on Monday morning, sir,' said Pascoe as they parted outside his father-in-law's house.
'Good night,' said Dalziel and drove away.
'Ellie,' said Pascoe. 'Why don't you practise what you preach some time.'
'Meaning?'
'Meaning that you might try to understand rather than just judge.'
She slammed the front gate so hard that a light went on in her parents' bedroom. Pascoe smiled. It was a small sign of remorse. Slowly, thinking about Dalziel, he followed her up the garden path.
Dalziel had been in bed an hour when the phone rang. He answered it instantly.
'I've just got back from the police station,' said Bonnie. 'The night porter at the Lady Hamilton didn't sound pleased at being woken.'
'Sod him,' said Dalziel.
'Andy,' she said finally. 'Will they find out?'
'About Conrad? I don't know.'
'Anchor are going to pay up, did I tell you?'
'Are they?'
'Yes. Andy, why didn't you say anything?'
'Because I don't know anything. Not for certain.'
> It was true. He did not know for certain that the Propananol tablets in the bathroom cabinet had been prescribed to Conrad Fielding for his heart condition, though he did know for certain that no mention of the condition had been made to Anchor Insurance. All Conrad had to do to get the life cover required by the finance house for a short-term loan was to sign a declaration that he was in perfect health and give the address of his local doctor. The tablets had been obtained in London, where no doubt the diagnosis had been obtained also.
Nor did Dalziel know for certain that Conrad had had an attack while up the ladder in the banqueting hall. Nor that Nigel had found him and fetched his mother. Nor that Bonnie, realizing that death from a long-established heart condition would invalidate the insurance policy, had taken the still running drill and held it to her husband's chest. Perhaps it had caught him as he fell, perhaps that was what gave her the idea. In any case, Dalziel knew none of these things for certain. But, if true, they explained much. They explained why once she discovered he was a policeman she wanted to keep Nigel out of his way. They explained why Mrs Greave, who could have seen Conrad taking his pills on one of the occasions he slept with her, had felt her knowledge might be worth money to Spinx.
This was all reasonable supposition.
But some things Dalziel did know for certain. He had seen the pathologist's report on Conrad Fielding's post mortem examination. The doctor had had no inducement to examine the tattered remains of the man's heart for any damage other than that caused by the drill. Told of a suspected heart condition, he might indeed have been able to find traces. But it wouldn't have mattered.
For beyond any doubt, Conrad Fielding had died from the cause stated. When the drill plunged into his heart, he was still alive.
Bonnie could not have known that, Dalziel assured himself. She had believed that the physical effect of mutilating a dead man was the same as a live one. Her crime (if there were a crime) had been an attempt to obtain insurance money fraudulently.
But he could never be certain of this without becoming certain of all the other things he did not care to know.
'When will we see you again, Andy?' she asked.
'I don't know,' he said. 'I'm a busy man.'
'Lots of crime in Yorkshire,' she said with an effort at lightness.
'Aye.'
'But you've got business interests here.'
'Happen Bertie would be pleased to buy me out.'
'If that's what you want,' she said.
'That's it.'
'Well then. We'll be in touch.'
He put the receiver down without saying good night and let his great grey head relax on the pillow. Thoughts flitted madly through his mind. He lay there waiting for their mad whirling dance to exhaust itself. In the end, as always, the last to fade was a policeman's thought. What had been the circumstances in which Bonnie's first husband had drowned in the lake - and how much insurance did he have?
He didn't want to know that either. He felt exhausted but reluctant to sleep. With a sigh he turned over on his side, reached out to the bedside table, picked up The Last Days of Pompeii and opened it at his place.
Dalziel 04 An April Shroud Page 23