‘But why not tell me this morning? Why bother to lie?’
Parrish shrugged. ‘I suppose, because if one does have an affair with a married woman, one gets into the habit of trying to keep it quiet, even in these rather unusual circumstances. Also, I was trying to spare the lady. I knew that if I told you the truth, you would be bound to want to check with her.’
‘So your lying had nothing to do with the fact that your car was parked only a few minutes walk from Mrs Holmes’s house?’
Parrish sat up with a jerk. ‘Only a few minutes from … My God. I had no idea.’
‘You really didn’t know that she lived quite close to Parnell Road?’
‘Of course I bloody didn’t. If I had, I’d have told you straight off where I was last night, instead of giving you reason to get suspicious of me!’
‘So you won’t mind, in the circumstances, giving us the name and address of this … lady.’
‘Certainly not. It’s Phyllis Penge. 14, Palmerston Row. She’ll confirm everything I told you.’
‘And you arrived at her house at …?’
‘Not at her house, Inspector. At my flat. We might as well get it straight this time. I’ve got a flat over one of the shops in Parnell Road. I’ve had it for about three years now. It’s very small, but quite useful.’
‘Useful?’
‘I use it to entertain my mistresses.’
‘Why a second flat, when you have a perfectly good one already? It’s not as if you were married.’
Parrish shrugged. ‘Shall we say I find it easier not to get too, well involved, when they don’t know where I live. Which is especially important when a jealous husband is involved.’
‘I see.’ Thanet was finding it difficult to hide his distaste. He was, however, not here to make moral judgements. ‘So this flat is where, exactly?’
‘Over the last shop in Parnell Road – the one at the far end of the row.’
Right next to that convenient footpath leading to Gladstone Road, Thanet thought with a lurch of excitement. His face, however, remained impassive. ‘And you arrived there at what time?’
‘About ten past seven.’
‘And Mrs Penge?’
‘A few minutes later.’
‘Parnell Road and Palmerston Row are next to each other. ‘Wasn’t it a little … difficult for Mrs Penge, living so close to your meeting place?’
‘Not at all, Inspector. Quite the contrary in fact. It was very handy. Phyllis lives in the last but one house in Palmerston Row. An old lady who is deaf and near-blind lives in the last one. Phyllis just slips out, goes along that convenient footpath and into the entrance to my flat.’
So Parrish knew about that footpath. Would Parrish have mentioned it, if he were guilty? If he were clever enough, possibly. ‘You meet when, usually?’
‘Always on Tuesday evenings. Phyllis’s husband plays in a darts team on Tuesdays.’
‘And you’ve known each other how long?’
Parrish thought. ‘Three months or so. I bumped into her one evening when I was coming out of the flat. I was alone – I’d stayed behind to straighten things up a bit. I do from time to time.’
‘After a previous rendezvous, you mean?’
‘That’s right, Inspector. As it happened, that affair was winding down anyway, so it was very convenient, walking into Phyllis like that.’ Parrish was leaning back in his chair, thumbs hooked behind lapels, a reminiscent smile on his face. Clearly, he enjoyed his image of himself as The Great Lover.
‘Does either of the girls here know about the flat?’
Parrish’s smile disappeared. ‘Good God no. I’ve taken them both out, but only casually. I’ve enough sense to keep my love life out of the office.’
‘And you say you had no idea that Julie Holmes lived in the same area as your flat?’
‘No. No idea at all. Why should I? I expect the address is on file, but I couldn’t tell you where any of the staff live.’
‘Gladstone Road was mentioned on the radio, this morning, when Julie Holmes’s murder was reported.’
‘Was it? I didn’t notice. I was too shaken by the news to take in the details.’
‘How long did you and Mrs Penge stay in the flat?’
‘Until about half past nine. At least, she left at half past, I stayed on for a few minutes afterwards, to tidy up. In any case, as she lives so close we always leave separately. I don’t suppose anyone’s ever seen us together.’
‘I see.’ And he did, only too well. If Parrish’s mistress confirmed these times, Parrish was well in the clear. Thanet’s voice remained cheerful however as he said, ‘Well, I think that’s all for the moment, Mr Parrish.’ He and Lineham stood up. ‘I do wish, though, that you’d told me all this this morning. It would have saved us considerable time and trouble.’
‘I do realise that.’ Parrish was all contrition. ‘I apologise, Inspector, I really do. Er … You will be discreet, when you question Phyllis?’ he went on anxiously, following them to the door. ‘Her husband … I wouldn’t like him to …’
‘Find out that his wife is unfaithful? No, I can quite understand that, Mr Parrish.’ Deliberately, however, Thanet withheld any such assurance. ‘That’ll give him a few nasty moments,’ he said grimly as they walked to the car park, ‘wondering if we’re going to spill the beans. No question, was there, of protecting her once he realised his own neck was on the block?’
‘Inspector!’
Thanet turned. A red-haired pocket Venus was running towards them, a somewhat hazardous undertaking in that tight skirt and those high heels, Thanet thought. He was right. Just as she reached them she stumbled and was caught by Lineham, who steadied her until she regained her balance. Lineham, Thanet noticed with amusement, was looking somewhat pink about the ears. He turned to the girl. ‘Miss Clark, I presume?’
‘Yes, that’s right. Mrs Clark, actually.’ She was out of breath. ‘How did you know?’
‘Mr Parrish described you to me this morning.’
‘Oh.’ Now it was Joy Clark’s turn to blush. She quickly recovered herself, however. ‘I’m Mr Jefferson’s secretary and I was in his office when you came just now. Maureen told me I’d missed you. So I thought I’d better come after you.’
‘There something you wanted to tell me?’
‘Yes.’ She glanced uneasily at Lineham, who took the hint.
‘I’ll go on to the car, sir …’
She waited until the sergeant was some yards away, then said, ‘It’s about Julie, Inspector. I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, but, well, Maureen told me the sort of thing you were asking her about this morning, and when she said she’d told you she thought Julie’d been a bit jumpy lately, I suddenly realised I might know why.’ She stopped.
‘Yes? Do go on.’
‘Well, I haven’t told Maureen, because it’s not something I’m very proud of, it’s not the sort of thing you broadcast, but, well, Derek – that’s my husband – and me, we haven’t been getting on very well lately and in the end we decided to go to Marriage Guidance.’ She had been gazing down at the ground, describing tiny arcs with the toe of one dainty shoe and now she glanced up at Thanet as if to gauge his reaction. Apparently reassured she went on, ‘Well the long and the short of it is that one evening when we had an appointment, we saw another couple come out of the Marriage Guidance premises. It was Julie and her husband.’
‘You’ve met him?’
‘Yes, once.’
‘And you’re quite certain it was they.’
Joy’s beautiful copper hair bounced as she nodded vigorously. ‘Oh yes, absolutely.’
‘Well thank you, Mrs Clark.’
‘I didn’t know if I ought to tell you or not …’
‘Every scrap of knowledge helps,’ Thanet said, giving her the reassurance she obviously needed. ‘Thank you again. And if you think of anything else …’
In the car he relayed their conversation to Lineham.
‘So there was something w
rong between Holmes and his wife,’ Lineham said.
‘Looks like it. I don’t see how it alters the situation as far as the murder’s concerned – all the arguments against Holmes being guilty still hold. All the same, I think I’ll go and have a word with him. You can drop me there and go and see Parrish’s mistress. Pick me up when you’ve finished.’
‘You think Parrish is in the clear, now?’
Thanet shrugged. ‘Difficult to tell. If he’s telling the truth then obviously he must be. Question the girl closely. Make sure she has plenty of opportunity to trip herself up.’ Thanet experienced a twinge of doubt. Ought he to go and question the girl himself? But he couldn’t go back on his instructions now. His reason would be too obvious. In any case some work must be delegated and Lineham was a good man. He’d surely know if the girl was lying.
Thanet had to knock a second, then a third time before he heard shuffling footsteps in the hall and Holmes opened the door. The man was a mess. He was unshaven, the shadows beneath his eyes were so marked that they looked like bruises and he was wearing the same clothes as the previous evening. He probably hadn’t taken them off, Thanet thought; he caught a sour whiff of stale sweat and unwashed flesh as Holmes stood back and without a word gestured to him to come in.
Holmes led the way through the hall, carefully walking around the chalk marks on the floor and almost kicking over a large, flat package leaning up against the wall. He stooped to steady it, then preceded Thanet into the living-room where an atmosphere thick with smoke and an ashtray piled high with cigarette stubs showed how he had spent the day. He collapsed rather than sat in one of the big armchairs, his body automatically assuming lines of hopelessness – head drooping, hands limply upturned on his lap, legs outstretched. He looked, Thanet thought, crushed, defeated.
Thanet came straight to the point. ‘I understand that you and your wife had been consulting a Marriage Guidance Counsellor,’ he said.
Holmes shook his head in disgust, reached for yet another cigarette. ‘My God,’ he said, ‘you lot do enjoy digging up the dirt, don’t you?’ Then, when Thanet made no comment, ‘Well, what of it?’
Thanet sighed. ‘Look Mr Holmes, in circumstances like these it is our duty to try to find out everything, and I mean everything, about the people involved. Contrary to what you may believe, we don’t enjoy this digging, as you call it, but it has to be done. And until we have found out who killed your wife we have to investigate every scrap of information that comes our way.’
The briet spark of belligerence had already died out of Holmes’s eyes. His head sagged against the back of his chair. ‘Oh, what the hell,’ he said. ‘What does it matter, now, anyway? Ask away, if you must.’
‘I’d prefer you to tell me.’
Holmes shrugged. ‘There isn’t much to tell.’ He sat up, lit another cigarette from the butt of the one he had been smoking. ‘Yes, Julie and I went to see a counsellor – we were supposed to be going again tonight, as a matter of fact. She’s – she’s very kind, very understanding. You feel you can talk to her and she won’t come all moral on you.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Mrs Thorpe.’
‘Go on.’
Holmes frowned, looked thoughtfully at his cigarette. ‘Well, we’ve been what, five times, altogether, I suppose.’ He stopped.
Thanet sighed inwardly. It looked as though he was going to have to drag the information out of Holmes bit by bit. ‘You went together each time?’
Holmes cast a quick, wary glance at Thanet as if trying to gauge how much he knew. ‘We went four times together and Julie went once by herself, the time before last.’
‘Why was that?’
‘Why was what?’
‘Why did she go by herself that time?’
Holmes’s lips tightened. ‘She wanted to.’
‘Any particular reason?’
‘Not to my knowledge.’
But he was lying, Thanet was certain of it. ‘Was it prearranged?’
‘What?’
‘That she should go alone,’ Thanet said patiently.
‘No, she just decided.’
‘When?’
‘The day before we were due to go.’
‘And you went how often?’
‘Once a week.’
‘Always on Wednesday?’
‘Yes.’
‘So that day, the day when she suddenly decided she wanted to go by herself, would have been a Tuesday, the Tuesday of the week before last, in fact.’
Holmes thought. ‘I suppose so, yes.’
‘And you really have no idea what made her want to go alone?’
‘I told you, no.’
Thanet tried another tack. ‘You must have started going soon after you moved here.’
Holmes made a sour face. ‘That’s right. I’d hoped … Oh, it was stupid of me, I can see that now, to think the move would make any difference. Places don’t really matter, do they, people don’t change? Anyway, I didn’t realise that then, but when I saw things weren’t any better I persuaded Julie to come to Marriage Guidance with me. She hated the idea at first, but once we’d been, she liked Mrs Thorpe and I began to hope we might get things sorted out.’
Poor beggar, Thanet thought, watching him. Suspect or no, the man was suffering, would go on suffering for a long time to come, by the look of it. He hated putting the next question. ‘What, exactly, was wrong between you?’ he asked.
Holmes shook his head, ‘Sorry, it’s no go. I’m not talking about my private affairs to anybody else. It was bad enough going to Marriage Guidance, to begin with, anyway, so no thank you. I don’t care what you think. And I can’t see that it matters much.’
‘Would you have any objection to my going to see Mrs Thorpe?’
Holmes hesitated. ‘I suppose not. Even if I said yes, I did object, you’d probably go anyway, and that’d put Mrs Thorpe in a fix. They won’t discuss clients without their permission. And she’s been very good to us …’
Mrs Thorpe must be a very special person, Thanet thought, if at a time like this Holmes could set aside his own feeling out of consideration for her, ‘Look Mr Holmes, I don’t want to interfere, but I’m sure it’s not good for you to be alone just now. Isn’t there anyone around here you could go to, or who could come and stay with you?’
‘I notice you don’t suggest I get away for a while,’ Holmes said bitterly. ‘Not that there’s anyone to go to. Julie’s mother is dead and I never got on with my parents, so this is hardly the time to go running home to mum.’
‘Oh I don’t know. It might be the best possible time,’ Thanet said. ‘Parents often turn up trumps at a time like this. I’ve seen it happen.’
‘Not my parents, believe me,’ Holmes said.
Thanet stood up. ‘What about going to a hotel for a few days?’ But even as he spoke he knew that this was a fatuous suggestion. If he were in Holmes’s position he would just want crawl away into a corner and lick his wounds for a while before he could feel ready to face the world again.
Holmes shook his head stubbornly. ‘I’m all right here.’
Thanet hesitated a moment longer. But what could he do? ‘I’ll find my own way out,’ he said.
Lineham was already waiting for him in the car. ‘No joy,’ he said. ‘She was out at work. A neighbour said she won’t be home until five-thirty. Apparently she works mornings on Mondays and Fridays, all day Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. I’ll go back later.’
‘What time does her husband get home?’
‘A quarter past six on the dot, the neighbour said.’
‘Try to make sure you leave before he arrives.’ Thanet was feeling depressed after the interview with Holmes. ‘We don’t want to make trouble for him unnecessarily.’
‘Where now, sir?’
‘Back to the office, I think. I’m going to try to get hold of the Holmes’s Marriage Guidance Counsellor.’
This, however, proved impossible, as the only number in the book for th
e Marriage Guidance Council was switched into an Ansaphone service and Thanet had to be content with leaving a message.
‘You don’t look very cheerful.’ It was Mallard, peering at Thanet over his half-moon spectacles. ‘Back still bothering you?’ he enquired gruffly.
‘Oh hullo, Tom. Sit down. No,’ said Thanet in surprise, ‘as a matter of fact it’s not. Today’s the first day when I haven’t been conscious of it more or less all the time.’
‘So why the long face? Didn’t you like my beautiful report?’
‘It may have been beautiful to you, but it certainly wasn’t beautiful to me.’
‘What did you expect? Cast-iron evidence of who killed her?’
‘Certainly.’
The two men grinned at each other.
‘No, seriously, though,’ Thanet said, ‘it wasn’t exactly helpful. Except that it does seem certain she didn’t kill herself.’
‘Right. Physically impossible, with the knife at that angle.’
‘And it definitely was that knife, that killed her?’
‘You’re thinking it might have been substituted for the real murder weapon? No, no question of that. If there had been, it would have been in my report. That was the knife, all right.’
‘But there was a slightly ragged entry wound. A struggle, you think?’
Mallard nodded. ‘The bruises on the backs of her hands bear it out.’
‘They couldn’t have been made by the murderer pressing her hands around the handle of the knife in the hope of making it appear suicide?’
‘No.’
‘The devil of it is,’ Thanet said, getting up and moving across to the window, ‘there’s so little evidence. Nothing under her fingernails, for instance.’ There was the hint of a question in the inflection of his voice and Mallard glanced up sharply.
‘If there had been, it would have been in the report,’ he said huffily.
‘Of course, Tom,’ Thanet hastened to reassure him. ‘You are nothing if not thorough, I know that.’
‘He was probably, wearing gloves,’ Mallard said. ‘And the struggle might have been very brief. The girl was no heavyweight, it wouldn’t have taken much to overpower her.’
‘Then there’s this question of whether she died instantly,’ Thanet said.
The Night She Died Page 5