Death Rope

by Leigh Russell

  The lawyer leaned over to Will and hissed at him, loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. ‘They’re just fishing. If they had anything to use against you, they’d be more specific. They don’t know anything. Leave this to me.’ He turned back to Ian. ‘What exactly has she told you?’

  Ian shook his head, smiling. ‘You know very well we’re not obliged to tell you what she said.’ He looked at Will. ‘But you know what happened, don’t you? And now we know too, because we’ve spoken to Luciana.’

  Will stared at Ian. ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said flatly.

  ‘You don’t believe she spoke to us about you? Really?’ Ian laughed. ‘Why do you think she came to see us then?’

  ‘She’d never talk to filth like you,’ Will blurted out angrily. ‘She’s got too much sense.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t know who she was,’ Geraldine said softly. ‘So I wonder how you would be in a position to make that judgement.’

  ‘Exposing the first lie is just the start,’ Ian said, speaking to the lawyer. ‘This is where his whole story will start to unravel.’ He turned back to Will. ‘So, we’ve established that you know Luciana. You know her well enough to state with confidence how she might behave. We also know she stood to gain a fortune from killing off her husband’s family and framing him for the murders.’

  ‘And we know that you are in possession of a dangerous dog that killed Luciana’s mother-in-law,’ Geraldine added.

  ‘A dog you used in an attempt to kill my colleague here.’

  Although he said nothing, the lawyer was clearly startled by this revelation. ‘I need a moment with my client,’ he said.

  ‘You’ve had enough moments,’ Ian replied. ‘I take it that during one of your moments so far your client described how he pushed my colleague into a cellar with a dangerous dog, the very same animal that savagely killed Charlotte Abbott?’

  ‘This is harassment. He’s entitled to take advice,’ the lawyer stammered, wide-eyed with shock.

  Will interrupted him. ‘It’s all lies. A pack of lies.’

  ‘Do you deny owning a dangerous dog?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘We found him chained up in your cellar.’

  ‘Poor Buster wasn’t dangerous. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. You could leave him to watch over a newborn baby and it would be perfectly safe. He was the gentlest dog I ever saw. It’s a lie to say he was dangerous.’

  ‘When I saw him – after you locked me in your cellar with him – he was ferocious. The dog handler assessed him as a danger to the public. He mauled Charlotte to death and, if his chain had broken, he would have killed me too.’

  There was something truly bizarre about sitting in an interview room calmly talking about how she had almost been savaged to death by a dangerous dog.

  ‘What a load of nonsense! Poor Buster wouldn’t have hurt you. He barks a bit, but he never bites.’

  ‘I found my colleague locked in the cellar,’ Ian said sternly.

  ‘She went in there to look at Buster,’ Will replied, appearing to dismiss the implied accusation. ‘When you lot came barging in, the door must have slammed shut on her. How could I have known she was trapped in there, after you dragged me out of my own home and carted me off here? If she’d starved to death in the cellar, that would have been your fault.’

  ‘The carpet had been replaced over the trap door,’ Ian pointed out.

  ‘It must have fallen back,’ Will replied calmly.

  ‘What you’re saying doesn’t tie in with what we’ve heard from Luciana,’ Geraldine said.

  She was trying to hide her disappointment at Will’s refusal to confess. He was proving difficult to perturb.

  ‘Perhaps your witness is lying,’ the lawyer said. ‘You have no evidence my client was involved in any criminal activity.’

  ‘Haven’t you been listening to a single word we’ve been saying?’ Geraldine burst out. ‘Your client locked me in a cellar with a dangerous dog and left me there to die!’

  ‘An accusation my client has refuted. Now charge him or let him go.’

  66

  It had proved impossible to disturb Will’s presence of mind. Without a confession, and in the absence of further evidence of his guilt, the most they could charge him with was assaulting a police officer and owning an illegally bred dangerous dog. It was beginning to look as though he could escape a conviction for murder, and their case might remain unsolved. It was maddening. They were convinced they had found the murderer they were after, yet they were powerless to prove it.

  ‘He locked me in the cellar,’ Geraldine protested for the twentieth time.

  ‘He insists we dragged him away before he had a chance to realise what had happened to you,’ Ian said. ‘And he claims it was a terrible accident, his dog attacking Charlotte. The infuriating thing is, his story’s just feasible. Granted, we don’t believe him, and the quantity of Charlotte’s blood in the cellar suggests she was killed there, but we’re not his judge and jury, more’s the pity. A clever barrister could cast doubt on what happened.’

  She sighed. ‘We have to find another way.’

  It seemed their only hope was for Luciana to tell them what they wanted to know. They agreed their best chance of getting to the truth was if they could frighten her. Will had refused to be intimidated into making a confession. Perhaps she would be easier to break. It was nearly dark by the time they drew up outside her house. She didn’t answer the door straight away and when she did open it, she had put the chain on.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘We’d like to talk to you.’

  ‘It’s late. I was going to bed.’

  ‘This can’t wait,’ Ian replied.

  Muttering, she opened the door and let them in. ‘What do you want? You know I’m here all on my own now, while Eddy’s away. When are you going to let him go?’

  ‘That depends on a number of things,’ Geraldine lied. ‘We’re not here to talk to you about your husband. We want to talk about Will.’

  ‘Who? I already told your people I don’t know anyone called Will.’

  ‘That’s not what he says.’

  ‘Who?’ she asked quickly. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Will seems to think he knows you,’ Geraldine said. ‘He seems to think he knows you very well.’

  ‘It must be a mistake.’

  ‘Do you think he knows another woman called Luciana? Now that would be a coincidence. It’s not as if Luciana’s a common name, is it?’

  Luciana’s wary expression hardened. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘The truth.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean. What do you want to know?’

  ‘Can we come in so we can talk?’

  With a show of reluctance, Luciana led them into the living room.

  ‘Tell us about Will,’ Ian said, as they all sat down.

  ‘Look, I’ve already told you I don’t know anyone called Will –’

  ‘Yet we’ve met someone called Will who says he knows you. So, one of you is lying.’

  Luciana hesitated, and Geraldine could see she was wavering.

  ‘Oh Will,’ she said at last. ‘Yes, of course. I know who you mean. But I hardly know him –’

  ‘Well, he seems to know you,’ Ian told her. ‘He told us he’s been doing a few jobs for you.’

  Luciana gave a noncommittal grunt and looked away.

  ‘You do know he’s been arrested?’

  Luciana frowned. ‘Why would I know anything about that? I hardly know the guy.’

  ‘Which means we’ll be releasing your husband.’

  ‘My husband?’ she frowned. ‘What’s this got to do with him? I don’t understand. What do you mean?’

  ‘It seems we suspected the wrong man. It was Will who committed the murders in your family, not Eddy. But of course you knew that, didn’t you?’ Geraldine said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  There was no ignoring her anxiety. All the co
lour seemed to have drained from her face, and her lips twitched uncontrollably.

  ‘Will has told us all about it.’

  ‘About what? What are you talking about?’

  Geraldine spoke very gently. ‘It’s over, Luciana. You can stop pretending you don’t know Will. We know what you did. Will’s told us everything.’

  Luciana shook her head. ‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘We know Will killed three members of your husband’s family. And since you’re the only person who stands to gain from the deaths and Eddy’s arrest, it wasn’t difficult to work out who put him up to it, and why. If he’d tried to deny it, we might have looked for more evidence, but he’s made a full confession. He’s told us it was all your idea.’

  ‘That’s a lie!’ Luciana cried out. ‘None of this was my idea. Will came up with the whole plan, from beginning to end. I thought he was just messing about, trying to make me feel better, because I was upset when Mark told Eddy he’d changed his will. There was no argument or anything, Mark just said it would all come to Eddy in the end anyway, but he was changing his will to make Charlotte feel secure. So I was complaining about it to Will and he came up with this crazy plan. He wanted me to tell him when and where it would be safe to find them alone. But it was just talk. I had nothing to do with what happened. Nothing! It was Will’s idea all along. And I never for one moment thought he was serious.’

  ‘We’d like you to accompany us to the police station,’ Ian said, moving to block the door so Luciana couldn’t try to leave the room.

  Her eyes widened in panic. ‘What? Why? I’ve told you it was all his idea. We were just talking. He came up with the idea that if anything was to happen to Mark and then Charlotte, Eddy would inherit everything and then if Eddy had an accident, it would all be mine. Will planned everything. He said I could help him by telling him when Mark was there on his own, and letting him into the house, because Eddy had a key and it was easy for me to get hold of it and make a copy without anyone knowing. He said he knew how to make it look as though Mark had killed himself, but I told him there was no point because there was a suicide clause in Mark’s will.’

  ‘Which you knew all about, didn’t you? Including when it ran out,’ Geraldine said quietly.

  Luciana stared at her, realising she had admitted to knowing too much. ‘The suicide clause wasn’t a secret. Mark told Eddy about it when he told him he had changed his will. He read it out to Eddy, and Eddy told me. But I never said anything to Will about the details of Mark’s will. We weren’t that serious about it; at least, I wasn’t. We were just talking. It was all talk. That’s all it was. We were only messing about. I never thought he’d go ahead with it.’

  ‘You gave Will a key so he could get into the house and take Mark by surprise and hang him from the banister.’

  ‘No, no, I didn’t do anything. It was just talk.’

  ‘You waited, and once the suicide clause ran out you told him when it was safe to go ahead, didn’t you?’

  Still insisting she had done nothing to help Will, Luciana broke down in tears. ‘It was Will’s idea. It was all Will’s idea,’ she insisted.

  ‘That’s for a jury to decide,’ Geraldine replied as she handcuffed Luciana and led her to the car.

  67

  Eddy was lying on his bunk when Geraldine entered. He turned his head to look at her without stirring from his prone position.

  ‘What now?’ he asked. ‘Can’t you leave me in peace even in here? I’m not talking to you without my lawyer. Not that he’s much use.’ He turned his head towards the wall. ‘You can go now. I’m not going to talk to you.’

  ‘I came to tell you that we don’t want to talk to you any more.’ He turned back to look at her. ‘You won’t be going home just yet, not until you’ve been tried as an accessory in a robbery. You’ve already confessed to your part in that, of course, so the courts will probably be lenient, especially if you change your mind about revealing the identities of your accomplices. I’d advise you to tell us everything you can, but your lawyer’s the one to advise you what’s best for you to do. I came here to tell you that you’re no longer being charged with the murders of your parents and your aunt.’

  Eddy sat up, rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and stared at her in obvious disbelief.

  ‘What’s going on? What trick are you trying to pull? I told you, I’m not talking to you without my lawyer present.’

  ‘I thought you might be a little more pleased than that,’ she replied, smiling. ‘It’s not every day you’re told the police believe you’re innocent of murder.’

  His eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘How come you’ve changed your minds for no reason?’

  ‘Who said it was for no reason?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’re free to go because we now know it wasn’t you who killed your parents or your aunt. You didn’t kill anyone, Eddy.’

  ‘I know that, but I don’t understand what made you change your mind.’

  ‘We know it wasn’t you, because we know who it was. We’ve caught the real culprits.’

  Eddy nodded but he still looked puzzled. ‘Culprits?’

  ‘The people who did it.’

  ‘Yes, I know what the word means. So, who was it?’

  ‘Will Donovan killed them all, along with his dog.’

  ‘Who the hell’s Will Donovan? And why did he kill his dog?’

  ‘No, no, he didn’t kill his dog. His dog was part of – part of his plans.’

  ‘Who is he? What are you talking about?’

  ‘Will Donovan was your father’s gardener.’

  ‘Oh, that Will.’

  ‘Yes, that Will.’

  Eddy sat in silence for a moment, shaking his head. ‘I don’t get it,’ he said at last. ‘Why are you telling me all this?’

  ‘I’m telling you because it’s the truth, Eddy.’

  He gazed at her and nodded, seemingly convinced. ‘But why would he do it? Why kill them? It doesn’t make any sense. What had they done to him?’

  Geraldine sighed. ‘He wasn’t acting alone.’

  ‘Who else was in on it?’

  ‘Who stood to gain with your parents both dead and you framed for murder?’

  He shook his head. ‘How the hell should I know?’

  Geraldine wasn’t sure if he was being deliberately obtuse.

  ‘Your wife,’ she said softly.

  ‘My wife? What’s any of this got to do with her?’

  ‘The two of them were in it together. Will and your wife. They planned the murders together.’

  ‘My wife? Luciana?’ Eddy leapt to his feet, staring wildly at her. ‘What the hell are you talking about? Don’t you dare accuse her –’

  ‘I’m afraid your wife put Will up to it. She was planning to get her hands on your family’s money.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. I know my wife. Luciana didn’t have anything to do with any of this.’

  Geraldine sighed. ‘I’m afraid she did.’

  ‘You have no proof –’

  ‘She framed you, Eddy. She made sure she had an alibi for the night your mother was murdered, and then agreed to give you an alibi, knowing we’d expose her lie and leave you unprotected, with herself in the clear. It would have worked, if we hadn’t already realised she was working with an accomplice.’

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ he insisted. ‘Luciana wouldn’t hurt anyone. She’s not like that.’

  ‘She didn’t actually kill anyone herself, but she organised the whole affair and promised Will a generous fee for carrying out her wishes.’

  ‘That’s a lie. You mustn’t believe him. He’s a conman. He’s lying –’

  ‘She’s confessed, Eddy.’

  ‘Let me speak to her. Please,’ he begged. ‘Let me see my wife.’

  ‘She’ll only tell you what she told us.’

  ‘Please, she’s my wife. Let me see her.’ He was crying now, tears sliding down his cheeks
, his voice almost incoherent with sobs. ‘I need to see her.’

  ‘You’ll be able to visit her.’

  Struggling to control his crying, he stammered, ‘Tell her. Tell her I know she didn’t do it. She couldn’t have. Tell her I love her.’

  Geraldine stared in surprise. ‘Do you really think she’ll care how you feel about her, after all she’s done?’

  ‘I know she will. She loves me, and she needs to know I still love her.’

  ‘How can you say that, knowing she framed you for murder just so she could get her hands on your parents’ money?’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘She told us herself.’

  He shook his head. ‘It makes no difference. You don’t stop loving someone just because they do something wrong.’

  ‘You would have gone to prison for life, Eddy. She set you up to save herself.’

  ‘I can’t help how I feel,’ he replied with a helpless shrug. ‘I love her. Please, let me see her.’

  It was Geraldine’s turn to shrug helplessly. ‘I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do. Maybe they’ll let you attend her trial. You might even be able to sit in the public gallery, depending on how long you get for the robbery. Are you sure you want to protect your accomplices’ identities, Eddy?’

  ‘I don’t know their names,’ he replied, his sobs subsiding. ‘All I know is that one of them called himself Abe. That’s all I know. I want to see my wife,’ he repeated, as Geraldine turned to leave. ‘I want to see my wife. Tell her I still love her. Tell her I’ll wait for her, however long it takes.’

  Geraldine turned back in the cell doorway. ‘You’re going to have a long wait,’ she said. ‘But once you’ve had time to think about what she did, I’m sure you’ll feel differently about her. She wasn’t the woman you thought you knew, Eddy.’

  68

  Geraldine smiled at Ian. They had been too busy lately for her to enquire about his meeting with his estranged wife, or for him to ask after her sisters. Now they were at the pub, with time to take an evening off and chat, only they were surrounded by their colleagues, all celebrating the successful conclusion to their investigation. They were standing with Naomi and Ariadne and not far away Eileen was talking to a group of constables, young and eager enough to listen to their senior investigating officer telling them something they already knew. Eileen cracked a joke and her audience laughed loudly.