‘No!’ she cried. ‘Nothing! If I had, it would have caught my eye and I’d probably have paused to take a better look. But it was pretty dark by then, remember, and I was in a lighted room. I know there are lights in the courtyard but it would still be pretty dim out there, by comparison.’ She paused. ‘Even so, do you think if I had looked, I might have seen something? Been able to help her? Even perhaps have prevented it?’ She gave Thanet a quick, agonised glance, then lowered her eyelids as if to prevent herself from reading an affirmative in his eyes.
Thanet shook his head. ‘Impossible to tell, I’m afraid. We don’t even know the precise time it happened.’
‘I just can’t take it in. I mean . . . murders are what happen to other people, aren’t they? You read about them in the newspapers, or see them in the news on television. And although you might think oh, how awful, how dreadful, the reality of it doesn’t come home to you. And then, when it does happen to someone close to you, that sense of unreality persists. I mean, you know it’s happening but you still can’t believe it. Do you see what I mean?’ She paused and then said, ‘You will catch him, Inspector, won’t you?’
‘We’ll do our level best, believe me.’ Thanet rose. ‘Now, I was going to have a word with Mr Mintar.’
‘Yes. He said to go along to his study. You know where it is?’
‘Thank you. Yes.’
Mintar was sitting behind his desk, his expression grim, the cat on his lap. It turned its head to give them an enigmatic stare as they came in. Mintar waved a hand. ‘Do sit down.’ He was looking much more alert. No doubt the shock of hearing the post-mortem result had jolted him out of his earlier almost trance-like state.
When they were settled he said, ‘So I was right. It was murder. Not that it gives me any satisfaction whatsoever to say so.’ His hand was moving in long, regular strokes along the cat’s back from the top of its head to the tip of its tail and its purrs were a basso profundo accompaniment to what he was saying. ‘And as I also said yesterday, as the husband of the victim I suppose I am, like many an unfortunate wretch before me, the prime suspect.’
‘One of them, yes.’ Pointless to deny it.
‘Since then I have of course begun to think more rationally about the whole business and realised what my wife was doing out there at that time of night. If you remember, I told you she asked me to remind her to finish the watering later. She was obsessive about those camellias.’
Mintar’s gaze strayed to the photograph on the desk and briefly his icy self-control faltered: his voice grew husky and the skin of his face seemed to quiver, as if it were having difficulty in containing the emotions threatening to erupt from beneath the surface. He cleared his throat and held up his hand as Thanet opened his mouth to speak. ‘No, let me finish. The other thing I wanted to say is that although, yesterday, I told you that I would be open and honest with you, hold nothing back, I was in fact less than frank, out of misplaced loyalty to my wife.’
It was obvious what Mintar was referring to, but he had nothing to lose by taking the initiative. He must have realised that it wouldn’t take Thanet long to put two and two together. ‘You’re referring to your wife’s affair with Dr Squires.’ A statement, not a question.
Mintar sighed. ‘So you already know. I might have guessed. But I said “misplaced” because I’ve come to the conclusion that in the circumstances, in some topsy-turvy way I actually owe it to her to speak of it. Whoever killed her has to be found and I vehemently deny that it was I. Not that at this stage I would expect you to believe me, but I wish to make my position quite clear.’
Grammatical even in the grip of emotion, Thanet noted. Habitual precision of speech dies hard.
‘Ergo,’ Mintar was saying, ‘it must have been someone else. The big question is, who?’
‘Are you suggesting it might have been Dr Squires?’
‘Oh come, Thanet, I’m sure you’ve already worked out for yourself that if I come top of the list, he must surely come second. And with a woman as beautiful as my wife’ – again he glanced at the photograph – ‘a crime passionnel is bound to be on the cards.’
He gave the cat one final stroke, set it gently down on the floor beside his chair and then leaned forward as if to emphasise the importance of what he was about to say. The cat stood for a moment, its tail twitching angrily, then stalked off and jumped up on to the windowsill where it proceeded to wash itself. Mintar said, ‘And that is the point, Thanet. My wife was beautiful, exceptionally so, but beauty can be a burden as well as an asset and brings with it its own special disadvantages. Virginia . . .’ His voice grew husky again. ‘ . . . Virginia was like a flame to a moth, men couldn’t help being attracted to her nor, unfortunately, she to them.’ He cleared his throat, then added briskly, ‘I’m sure you must already have asked yourself why I put up with this sort of behaviour, but the fact of the matter is, I would have done anything, put up with anything, to keep her.’
Mintar sat back as if the hardest part of his confession was over. ‘My work, as you must be aware, takes me away from home for sometimes months at a time. What was Ginny supposed to do while I was away? Sit at home, knitting? She developed her own interests, of course she did, barristers’ wives have to if they are to survive, but unfortunately they were not enough for her. Because what most people didn’t realise was that underneath she was very insecure. She needed, absolutely had to have, constant reassurance that she mattered, that she was special. And I simply couldn’t give that to her, if I was away for half the year. I understood that and was prepared to turn a blind eye to her affairs with other men, so long as she always came back to me in the end, was always there when I did come home. You see? I really am being absolutely frank with you now. I’d never have dreamt I would say these things to anyone, let alone to strangers. But needs must. I just want you to understand that if you are considering my supposed motive to be jealousy, then you couldn’t be more wrong.’
‘What about ambition?’
‘As a motive? What on earth can you . . . ?’ Mintar broke off, but not before Thanet caught the flash of anger. ‘Oh, I see! You are suggesting that my wife’s behaviour could have compromised my chances? Well, all I can say is that if you offered me a straight choice between a seat in the High Court and Virginia, then there’s no doubt in my mind which I would have chosen. One’s years on the Bench are brief and I always hoped that as she grew older, Virginia’s behaviour would become increasingly moderate. Besides, I would never have contemplated old age without her through choice.’ Abruptly he stood up and crossed to look out of the window and Thanet guessed that he was struggling to regain control. They were all three aware that that choice had now been taken away from him, once and for all.
It was time for a change of direction. ‘You told us yesterday that your wife never got over Caroline’s elopement, and since then we’ve seen the effects of this for ourselves.’
Mintar swung around, scooping up the cat again as he did so, obviously surprised at the sudden switch. His eyes narrowed. ‘What has that got to do with it?’
‘I don’t know,’ Thanet admitted. ‘I’m not sure at this stage that it has the least relevance. But it did affect your wife’s behaviour and it must have been some aspect of her behaviour that sparked off this attack. At this stage I am simply trying to assimilate as much information as possible and then later perhaps I shall begin to understand what went wrong.’
‘So what do you want to know?’ Mintar returned to his desk and sat down again.
Thanet had already decided that at this stage he would say nothing about making a further attempt to trace Caroline. He wanted a free hand and suspected that Mintar might object to such a search, as he apparently had in the past. ‘You said that Dick Swain’s mother was “as unhelpful as she could possibly be” when you tried to find out where the young people had gone. You went to see her as soon as you found out what had happened, I assume?’
‘Of course. Immediately after finding Caroline’s note, n
ext morning. I didn’t expect to find them there, naturally, but I did hope she might know where they’d gone. But she wouldn’t even let me into the house, slammed the door in my face.’
‘You tried again later?’
‘Certainly. That same evening, when I thought she might have calmed down. But with no more success. I just got a torrent of abuse. She was blaming Caroline for the whole thing, saying she had turned her son’s head and calling her all sorts of filthy names. I might add that the police got no further than I did.’
‘What about some time later, when she really might have been more cooperative? Did you ever make another attempt?’
‘No. What was the point? There was no reason to think her attitude might have changed. In fact I thought it would be better, less painful, if we tried to put Caroline out of our minds altogether. It didn’t work, though. Virginia was inconsolable, it seemed . . . Just a moment . . .’ Once again he gave Thanet one of those piercing stares. ‘All these questions . . .’ He stopped, and his eyes grew distant. Then he shook his head as if to clear it. ‘Sorry, go on.’
‘What were you going to say, sir?’
‘Nothing. It doesn’t matter.’
Thanet was suspicious but Mintar obviously wasn’t going to tell him. ‘I understand Caroline left a note. May I see it?’
Mintar hesitated before depositing the cat on the floor again and taking a key ring from his pocket. Then he bent to unlock one of the bottom drawers of his desk, took out an envelope and handed it to Thanet.
And here, thought Thanet as he took out the letter, was the evidence that however much Mintar had apparently hardened his heart against his favourite daughter, underneath he had grieved as bitterly as his wife. The flimsy piece of paper was virtually disintegrating from much handling and from being folded and refolded countless times over the past four years. Thanet glanced at Mintar and found him watching and as he caught his eye the QC looked away, no doubt aware that Thanet had appreciated the significance of the condition of the piece of paper he was holding. He focused on what Caroline had written.
Sorry, I can’t stand this any longer. I’m going away with Dick.
Please don’t try to find me.
And then, below, smudged with tears:
I do love you all.
Caroline
Handling it very carefully, Thanet laid the letter on the desk, tempted after all to mention his decision to make a further attempt to find her. No, better not to, in case they didn’t get anywhere. But he was at least now reasonably sure that should they be successful Caroline would get a warm reception from her father, despite the smokescreen he had put up. ‘There’s just one other question I want to ask you at present, something that puzzles me. I understand that you were very much in favour of trying to buy Agon off, but—’
‘Shh!’ Mintar looked at the door and hissed, ‘Keep your voice down, for God’s sake! If Rachel should hear . . . How the hell you found that out, I can’t imagine!’
Thanet lowered his voice. ‘Sorry, sir.’ And he meant it. The last thing he wanted was to cause further distress to Rachel. ‘I wasn’t thinking. But as I understand it, your wife was against it. Did she say why?’
Mintar leaned forward, speaking in a near whisper. ‘I think she was afraid – and I must admit she had a point – that he might consider Rachel a greater prize and refuse. And that if he did, he might tell her what we’d done. In which case . . .’
‘It might set Rachel against you too. I see. Yes. That makes sense.’
Outside again Thanet said to Lineham, ‘You were very quiet in there, Mike. Didn’t utter a word.’
‘Thought you were doing fine without my help, sir,’ said Lineham with a grin.
‘Let’s check on that search warrant.’
It had been granted and Thanet arranged to meet the team at Digby’s house in fifteen minutes.
‘Come on, Mike, let’s go and pick him up. I think Mr Digby would rather enjoy a ride in a police car, don’t you?’
Lineham gave an anticipatory smile. ‘This should be interesting.’
Digby was not amused at being dragged away from his work. ‘What’ll Mr Mintar say? I can’t walk out just like that, can I?’
‘I’m sure Mr Mintar would have no objection whatsoever.’ But he would doubtless have asked plenty of awkward questions, which was why Thanet had no intention of asking his permission.
‘Am I being arrested?’
‘Certainly not, sir. We just need your help in our inquiries.’
‘So I could refuse?’
‘You could. But I really don’t think that would be a good idea, do you? It might give us the wrong impression, even put ideas into our heads.’
Reluctantly Digby got into the car. ‘Where are we going, anyway?’
Lineham grinned. ‘You’re going to give us a guided tour.’
‘Of what?’
‘Of your house, of course.’
Digby lunged for the door handle but Lineham had had the foresight to activate the safety locks. ‘You have no right, without a search warrant!’
‘Got one,’ said the sergeant.
‘Where is it, then? I demand to see it!’
‘All in good time, sir,’ said Thanet. ‘I assure you, this is all legal and above board. The search will go ahead with or without your cooperation/
Digby lapsed into a glowering silence which lasted until they pulled up in the lane outside his house. As they drew up four officers got out of a waiting police car.
‘Ah, reinforcements,’ said Thanet. ‘Actually, I don’t think you’ll all be needed. As you can see, the house is very small, we’d be falling over ourselves.’
The warrant was produced and inspected and Digby capitulated, unlocking the door with an ill grace.
‘Now,’ said Thanet when they were inside. ‘The darkroom is upstairs, I presume?’
‘I don’t want you mucking about with my equipment!’
‘Your equipment will be treated with every respect. In fact, it’s not so much your equipment we’re interested in, but what you produce with it.’
‘You’re wasting your time! There’s nothing illegal! Nothing pornographic or anything like that!’
‘Well, we shall see,’ said Thanet. ‘But of course, it’s not always the material itself that’s important, it’s the use you make of it.’
‘I don’t know what you mean. What are you talking about?’
But Digby understood only too well. Thanet could read it in his eyes, could even hear the beginnings of resignation in his tone of voice. Thanet didn’t bother to reply, just indicated that Tanya and Lineham should accompany him and set off up the narrow staircase. Digby was left downstairs with Carson.
There were only two bedrooms. As in so many old cottages with limited upstairs accommodation, the bathroom – if there was one – would have been built on downstairs, at the back. Digby’s bedroom, furnished in minimal fashion with single bed, a scuffed and battered chest of drawers and a bedside table, overlooked the dreary front garden. A curtain slung across one corner concealed his scanty collection of clothes. No effort whatsoever had been made to render the room attractive.
The room at the back, a state of the art darkroom, was a very different matter. This, obviously, was where Digby’s money went. Three tall narrow chests of drawers – custom-made? Thanet wondered – accommodated his prints and negatives. It didn’t take long to find what they were looking for. It stood to reason that if Digby stored incriminating material in his darkroom he wasn’t going to leave it lying around where a casual search would bring it to light, especially as he had some reputation as a photographer locally and this room would be a prime target for burglars.
They therefore began by removing the drawers and examining them to see if anything had been taped underneath. It was Lineham who struck lucky. ‘Sir!’ he said.
It was a brown manila envelope and a glance at the first photograph told Thanet that his guess had been right. Digby’s net had spread beyond S
quires and Virginia.
Digby had been taking a risk. He must have been standing on the terrace just outside the French windows of the drawing room of the Mintars’ house – Thanet recognised the furnishings. If either of the two people in the photograph had glanced up they could surely not have failed to catch sight of him, but they were far too engrossed in each other.
They were lying on one of the big sofas, making love. Digby must coolly have waited for a moment when both of their profiles were clearly visible. No one could have mistaken Agon’s male-model good looks, that cap of shining blonde hair.
At first Thanet thought the woman was Rachel but then he looked more closely. He glanced up at Lineham, seeking confirmation.
The sergeant nodded, eyes sparkling with the pleasure of suspicion verified. ‘Virginia Mintar,’ he said.
SIXTEEN
Tanya stopped searching and came to look over Thanet’s shoulder as he shuffled through the rest of the photographs in the envelope. They were all more of the same: Matthew Agon and Virginia in compromising positions. The negatives were there too.
‘Wonder what Rachel would think if she saw these,’ said Lineham.
‘Or Mintar, for that matter.’
‘From what he’s told us, he might not be too surprised,’ said Lineham.
‘In that case, couldn’t they be used as ammunition for him to get rid of the sleaze?’ said Tanya. ‘No, perhaps not. If he threatened to show them to Rachel, Agon would probably tell him to go ahead, banking on the fact that her father wouldn’t want to upset her – or, for that matter, show her mother up in a bad light. But then again, Mr Mintar might feel it would be worth it, to save her from marrying a character like that.’
‘Difficult to tell,’ said Thanet. He’d have to think about whether or not to show these to Mintar. ‘Meanwhile, let’s see if we can turn up anything else. The photographs of Squires and Virginia are bound to be somewhere.’
They were, along with several other caches of similar photographs of couples Thanet had never seen before.
‘Wonder how many of these he’s trying to squeeze money out of,’ said Lineham in disgust.
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