Out in the square a car door slammed and someone laughed. Footsteps went lightly up the steps next door. Ordinary people, doing ordinary things on an ordinary Monday morning. With an effort, Charlotte unclenched her hands. There was no way of stopping him now. Just as, twelve days ago, there’d been no way of stopping Nancy. Except one.
‘I put my hands round her neck and shook her, just to make her stop. But almost immediately she went slack. I must have pressed on some vital point, I don’t know. Perhaps she had brittle bones. She slumped to the ground and I thought she’d fainted. I even tried to revive her. It was several minutes before I realized she was dead.’ He paused, then added tonelessly, ‘I’m not entirely sure that’s true. I don’t think I meant to kill her, but I had to keep her quiet. Not only then, in the car park, but later. Especially later. And when I realized that she was dead, my first feeling was relief.’
Charlotte was incapable of breaking the silence. She stared at him till her eyes ached, this man she’d known forty years, as brother, lover, friend. A man whose need to be loved had finally led him to murder.
He moved at last. ‘I panicked, naturally. In half an hour I was due to pick up Faith. I bundled Nancy into the car and set off for the nearest open country. When I saw the Chedbury sign, I remembered the woods. I — left her there and drove rapidly back, parking in the same car park but not, I assure you, in the same part of it. And I met Faith and somehow, God knows how, pretended nothing had happened.
‘I told myself it was an accident; I hadn’t meant to kill her, so I shouldn’t be punished for it. She might even have had a heart attack — she was worked up enough. I couldn’t believe that the seconds I’d held her neck were enough to kill her. She didn’t even try to move my hands. And I bargained with myself that I’d be a better person from now on. I’d put myself out to help people — all the usual, puerile attempts to placate the avenging furies. But it didn’t work. They were in my head, and they wouldn’t go away. I’ve spent too long in the courts for that kind of self-deception.’
Charlotte said without hope, ‘What will you do?’
‘You know as well as I do. There must be the minimum publicity, for Faith’s sake.’
Seeing her stricken face, he added gently, ‘Don’t look like that, Charlotte, it’s only the coup de grace. In all respects that matter, my life ended when I turned into the alley, as surely as Nancy’s did. This is just a formality, “a necessary end”.’
‘But there must be something — ’
‘No,’ he contradicted gently, ‘nothing. Forgive me for inflicting this on you, I needed your strength.’
‘But there are mitigating circumstances! A moment’s madness, that’s all it was — first the girl and then, by the sheerest bad luck, Nancy. What was she doing in Shillingham, anyway? She’d no right to be there!’
‘Charlotte, love, don’t.’
‘You know all the leading Counsel. Surely — ’
‘Death,’ he said simply, ‘will be much easier.’ He switched off the recorder and, coming towards her, drew her to her feet and into his arms. When had he last held her close? All those years ago, in Beckett’s Lane, when she’d ended their relationship? She’d been as guilty as anyone of rejecting him. But love can’t be made to order — one of the tragedies of human existence.
Now, in rebuttal of the thought, she was filled with a desolation that could surely be no deeper had she truly loved him. Kind, gentle, over-affectionate Roger, cast as murderer. There was after all no justice, despite his having spent his life administering it.
But it was her strength, not her sympathy, he asked of her, and she mustn’t fail him now. Closing her mind to the bitterness and tears that would come later, she held him tightly, trying to transmit the courage he needed. Perhaps it came through, because after a few minutes he patted her arm and released her. His face was composed, the feverish excitement gone.
‘Bless you, Charlotte,’ he said quietly. He picked up the recorder and put it into her hand. ‘Give that to the Chief Inspector. Faith won’t be coming back here — I sent her a message — and you mustn’t either, though the door won’t be locked. Go down the steps and walk quickly away. Try not to think too harshly of me.’
He brought her coat, helped her into it, showed her to the door. They might have been casual friends, meeting again in a couple of days. Charlotte turned to face him, owing him the courage he displayed himself.
‘Goodbye, Roger. I’m proud to have known you.’ She reached up and kissed him. Then she went obediently down the steps. Behind her, she heard the door close.
The uncaring sunshine poured into the square. On one of the railings a fat little robin preened its feathers. She stood for a moment watching it, turning her head as a car drove swiftly round the corner. It contained the Chief Inspector and his sergeant.
Webb seemed concerned to see her and, barely waiting for the car to stop, got out and hurried towards her. Wordlessly, she held out the recorder, and as he took it, a muffled shot rang out, rattling the windows behind them.
The robin, startled, flew away.
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
David Webb 2 - A Necessary End Page 18