No Secrets (MARNIE WALKER Book 6)

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No Secrets (MARNIE WALKER Book 6) Page 18

by Leo McNeir


  “That doesn’t mean it was another lover.”

  “Do you believe she had all those lovers, Marnie?”

  “I really don’t know. Look, you’re going to have to believe me on that, once and for all.”

  Charles looked at her pointedly. “I know you’re an intelligent woman, Marnie, and I think you’re perceptive and – to use an old-fashioned word – sophisticated, but you don’t seem to understand what this means to me. My wife was allegedly having an affair with another man, and had had – or for all I know – was still involved with others, four others, if Gerard’s telling the truth. Would you regard that as at least a possibility?”

  Marnie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I suppose anything’s a possibility. But if it is true, it may change nothing. It could be another motive for Gerard … jealousy.”

  “I need to know what’s true, Marnie.”

  “But you need to be careful. My solicitor thinks that if you take the spotlight off Gerard, the next most likely suspect is … you.”

  “I’d worked that one out already. Tell me, Marnie, what do you think of me, as a suspect?”

  No hesitation. “Ridiculous.”

  “Yes, though more to the point, I had an unshakeable alibi. I’m appalled at the idea of needing one, but there it is.”

  “I’m not sure where this is getting us, Charles.”

  “I’d have thought it was pretty clear. I need to know for certain what happened. I find it difficult dealing with Gerard, but you … At least say you’ll think about it.”

  Marnie was horrified. “About what?”

  “Just talking to him. I’d really value your unbiased opinion. He’d talk to you, I know he would.”

  Marnie saw a way of leaving. “I’ll think about it, but I can’t promise anything.”

  They separated. Marnie climbed in behind the wheel as Charles slipped into the Jaguar nearby. He hit the starter and was away while she was still fastening the seatbelt. Captains of industry don’t hang around, she thought. She was just pulling out of her slot when a group of pedestrians went by, a small flock. Perhaps a train had deposited a number of visitors who had made their way up to the prison on foot. Taking care where she drove, Marnie reached the car park entrance when more people appeared. One of them, a woman, acknowledged Marnie’s holding back with a wave of her hand. She immediately did a double-take and turned towards the car, blocking Marnie’s exit. A face came to the driver’s window. Two taps on the glass. Recognition. It was Sarah Cowan.

  “You’ve been to see my brother again?”

  Marnie pressed a button and the window slid open. “Yes.”

  “I don’t know how you have the nerve.” It was said without anger, more in disbelief. “Why did you come?”

  “Charles Taverner wanted to see him, asked me along.”

  “But what for? Why?”

  “Good question. I’m still wondering. You’ll find your brother has a view on it, and I think he may be right.”

  “Please don’t talk in riddles. This isn’t a game for us. Neil has just tried to commit suicide, and one of the reasons was the loss of any hope that he might get at least an open-minded response from Charles Taverner. Why are you here?”

  “I think Charles wanted to know about the lovers, the alleged lovers, I should say.”

  Sarah checked her watch. “Have you got time for a coffee?”

  “No. I must get back. And you’ve come to see your … to see Neil.”

  Sarah looked thoughtful. “Are you here because you think Neil’s right, and maybe one of the others killed her?”

  “It’s not my affair. I mean it’s not my battle.”

  “But surely you have an opinion, otherwise you wouldn’t keep coming back with Charles Taverner.”

  “Look, I’ve had enough problems in my life without interfering in someone else’s. Barbara was a client, no more, no less. Her marriage, her private life, her affairs are none of my business.”

  “Is it so easy to walk away?”

  Marnie spelled it out slowly. “I came here because Charles wanted an unbiased presence, just a little moral support. That’s all it was. I didn’t want to get involved. I still don’t.”

  “That sounds very judgmental, Marnie. Is that your approach to life, to stay aloof because nothing like that ever happens to you?”

  “I’m not judging anyone.”

  “That’s how it sounds to me. Tell me, Marnie, were you a virgin on your wedding night? And have you never slept with anyone but your husband since then?”

  Marnie stared at her and lowered her voice. “My husband is dead.”

  Sarah stepped back from the car as if Marnie had slapped her. Marnie let up the clutch and sped away.

  19

  The phone rang the next morning at eight-thirty. It surprised Marnie. Few people used the office line on a Saturday. She grabbed it quickly. There was no preamble or greeting, no introduction. It was Sarah Cowan and she launched straight in.

  “I owe you an apology, Marnie. It’s been troubling me ever since you went off yesterday. I felt awful. It made me see how unreasonable I’ve been.”

  “It’s understandable.”

  “Maybe, but other people have a right to their own lives.”

  “I can see I probably came across as heartless.”

  “Even so, I shouldn’t have tried to hang the guilt thing on you like that, as if you had to agree with me – with us – and had to fall in with our wishes.”

  “You felt you had nothing to lose by trying.”

  “Sure. But that was with Charles Taverner. It had nothing to do with you. You just got drawn in by chance. Marnie, are you yawning?”

  Marnie’s mouth snapped shut. “Sorry.”

  “You’ve not been sleeping?”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I sympathise. I hardly sleep at all these days. Look, I really am sorry about everything. I’ll not trouble you again. That’s a promise.”

  “Sarah, you genuinely believe Neil didn’t kill Barbara, don’t you?”

  “It’s more than that. I know he didn’t. I know him better than anyone in the world, known him all my life. He’s just not capable.”

  “In a fit of jealous rage?”

  “He knew all along the relationship with Barbara wouldn’t be permanent. It was an affair, Marnie. They were both adults. They knew what they were doing.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Anyway, I just wanted to apologise for what I said.”

  “That’s all right, Sarah. I appreciate it. So, what are you going to do now?”

  “Not sure, but …” A change of tone. Cheerful. “We’ve got plenty of time to think of something.”

  They said good-bye and disconnected – for the last time, Marnie told herself. It felt like a burden lifted from her shoulders. She reached an instant decision. They had decided over breakfast to work through the morning and travel down to Hemel to start bringing Perfidia back in the afternoon. Now, she wondered about leaving sooner. Marnie was deep in thought when the phone sounded. Aware that these days she took calls with some foreboding, she picked it up. Again no preamble, no introduction. None was needed. It was Beth, and her opening words hit Marnie with more force than anything Sarah Cowan had ever said.

  “That was you in the paper, wasn’t it? Are you mad? What did you think you were doing?”

  “Paper? What paper? What are you talking about?”

  “The front page of the Sun? That’s what I’m talking about. You standing there with Charles Taverner, then talking to Gerard’s sister. That’s what I’m talking about.”

  “Beth, slow down, I don’t understand.”

  “You made the front page and some of the inside pages.” Doubt crept into her voice. “You didn’t know?”

  “Of course not. Do I sound as if I knew? How did you know? You’ve started taking the Sun?”

  “Paul spotted it when he went to pay our paper bill … bought a copy. I’ve got it here.”

 
“The article says it was me?”

  “It refers to a woman friend of Charles Taverner, but I recognised you straight away and your car, that poncy Sloane Ranger thing you drive around in.”

  “What’s the article about? No, don’t tell me. I’ll buy a copy. I’ve gotta go.”

  Marnie legged it through the spinney to Sally Ann.

  “Anne, we’re going early. Pack up! We’re leaving.”

  Absentmindedly Anne looked up from her sketchpad. “Is it lunchtime already?”

  “I’ll explain on the way.”

  On Thyrsis, Ralph was just as engrossed in his work as Anne had been. “Now?”

  “Now.”

  In minutes they were driving through the village in convoy, Ralph’s elderly Volvo trailing in the wake of the Discovery. A quick halt outside the shop while Anne dashed in to buy the Sun – much to the surprise of Molly Appleton – and they were back on the road.

  Anne held up the paper. “What am I supposed to be looking for?”

  “Try the front page.”

  “Really?” Anne began reading to herself. “OMG!”

  “Sounds like you found it.”

  “This woman friend … it’s you, isn’t it, Marnie?”

  “Am I recognisable?”

  “Well, Mr Taverner’s clear. Sarah Cowan’s clear, but you, you’ve got the side of the Discovery blocking you, except for part of your profile. It’s unmistakeable, but only if you know who you’re looking at.”

  “Telephoto lens job?”

  “Must be.”

  “What does it say?”

  “It asks: Why is Charles Taverner visiting Neil Gerard, his wife’s convicted murderer? Who is this woman talking to Sarah Cowan in the car park? What is going on?”

  “Not bad questions.”

  “What is going on, Marnie? I don’t get it. Is Mr Taverner trying to help Neil Gerard get off, or make an appeal or something?”

  “More good questions.”

  “And?”

  “There’s a café at this roundabout. I’m pulling over. We need to talk, all of us.”

  It was a Little Chef, busy on a Saturday morning. Anne had bagged a table, and the three of them sat amid the hubbub while Marnie told them in a lowered voice all the details of the conversations with Neil Gerard and with his sister. Until then she had kept back the information about Barbara’s supposed four other lovers, not wanting to perpetuate her involvement any longer than was necessary.

  After they had digested the facts, it fell to Ralph to ask the obvious question. “Marnie, you know I’m always happy to go along with your plans, even those made on the spur of the moment, even if I don’t know the reason behind them …”

  “Ye-e-es.”

  “But why are we actually going to Perfidia now? I mean, why couldn’t we just stick to our original plan and go this afternoon?”

  “I thought, well, it seemed to me …”

  Anne joined in to help her. “Were you thinking it’d be best to take the boat in case a reporter spotted it and had it under surveillance?”

  “Among other things.”

  Ralph’s turn. Sceptical. “A quick getaway … at four miles an hour?”

  “Better than taking the risk of leaving her under their noses.”

  “But we haven’t come with any supplies for the journey.” Anne, ever-practical. “I just grabbed a few undies and overnight things. Is there food and stuff on board?”

  “We’ll need to get provisions on the way. In fact, you two could go to the supermarket while I check the boat over.”

  The revised plan was agreed and the cars were back on the road again. Following the tailgate of the Discovery from a short distance back, Ralph was wondering what was really going on in Marnie’s mind.

  By arrangement with the landlord they parked the Discovery at a waterside pub off the main road north of Leighton Buzzard, estimating that they could reach it on Sunday. It was the usual boater’s game, two-car relay, with one at each end of the run. Ralph drove them on to Hemel where they sat in the Volvo at a strategic spot, watching for any sign of a concealed reporter or photographer. Satisfied that all was clear, Ralph dropped Marnie at the boat. She opened the side door and climbed aboard as the Volvo trundled towards the town centre. After a count of twenty, her head appeared from the hatch and she re-emerged onto the bank. In less than two minutes she was boarding a cab in the taxi rank at the station.

  The plan almost came unstuck at the prison gate. In her haste, Marnie had forgotten the need to have an appointment. But luckily the rules for visitors to the sanatorium were less strict, particularly where it concerned a “suicide case’, and she was known from signing in the previous day.

  When Marnie was escorted into the san, Gerard sat up in surprise. As soon as the prison officer withdrew, she wasted no time.

  “I’ve got ten minutes max.”

  Gerard looked perplexed and seemed unable to speak. Marnie rushed forward and seized him by the collar of his pyjamas, speaking urgently in a harsh whisper into his ear.

  “You killed her, didn’t you? You really did it. Admit it. I want the truth!”

  Gerard did not flinch. He spoke calmly. “No. I had nothing to do with Barbara’s death. You don’t need ten minutes. You can leave now if you don’t believe me.”

  Her eyes held his for an age before she released her grip and stepped back. She walked round the bed and flopped onto a chair, deep in thought. Gerard remained immobile.

  “You told Charles that Barbara had four other lovers in addition to you.” Gerard breathed out audibly but said nothing. Marnie continued. “You see, that’s the part I find difficult to believe.”

  “Why difficult? I can’t imagine that an attractive woman like you finds it hard to believe that an attractive woman like Barbara had lovers. Surely you must’ve –”

  Marnie raised a hand. “Stop there. Let’s get something straight. I’m here to talk about Barbara. My private life is not up for discussion. It’s my business and no-one else’s, especially yours. Are we clear about that?”

  “Quite clear. But my point still stands. Why could Barbara not have lovers if she wanted them?”

  Marnie thought of the phantom diary dates, Barbara’s meticulous preparation for their meetings. She certainly had one lover. But five?

  “How long had you and Barbara been seeing each other?”

  “Just over two years.”

  “And the others?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know who they were, so presumably you must know when they were together.”

  Gerard stared at Marnie for some time. She looked at her watch. Misunderstanding his silence, she said, “She had a lover; I can believe that. But if you’re suggesting she had five, at the same time …”

  “I’m not suggesting any such thing. She wasn’t a tramp. I was just trying to fit them into a time frame.”

  “What I wanted to know was, were any of them still in touch with her? Also, what was the nature of their relationship?”

  Gerard raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

  “On a sliding scale from grand passion to … one-night stand.”

  For the first time, Gerard’s face muscles relaxed. He settled back on the pillows and smiled. “You’re dressed for boating, I see.”

  “Very perceptive, but let’s stick with Barbara. My time’s running out.”

  “Not very perceptive. Jeans and a sweatshirt, the sort of things Barbara wore on the boat. You and Barbara have a lot in common.”

  “Look, are you going to tell me about these so-called lovers or do I just leave now?”

  “Why the rush?”

  “We were seen leaving here yesterday –”

  “I know. Sarah told me she’d seen you. She was going to phone to apologise for what she said.”

  “She did. But we were also seen by a reporter … and photographed. You’re looking at the Sun’s new cover girl.”

  Gerard started. “You’re kidding!”
r />   “I want to be away before anyone can get a tip-off to the newshounds.”

  “Of course. Look, I need to think about it. I’ll write out a list of names and try to put some kind of timescale together. Would that help? I’ll pass the details on through Sarah.”

  Marnie got up.

  “Thanks for coming, Marnie. I always thought you believed me.”

  She looked at him coldly. “I didn’t, actually.”

  “Then why did you come?”

  A pause. “I believed Sarah.”

  The first thing Marnie did on arriving back at Perfidia was to start the engine. Even if Ralph and Anne returned in less than a minute, it would give the impression that everything had been prepared for the journey. It slightly horrified her that she had become so sneaky. You and Barbara have a lot in common … The idea brought her up short.

  No! Hell, no! She had no desire to go down that path. Ralph was probably the most intelligent person she had ever met, but he was not shrewd or cunning in the sense of detecting duplicity, and Marnie knew he would never suspect her of trying to deceive him. Would he have known if she had a lover? Probably not. He may not have been the world’s most dynamic action man, but he possessed great qualities. He had integrity and valued truth above everything. His world was based on it. It was a good foundation for a life together.

  She had checked the butane bottle and connected the gas supply, switched on the electrics and selected the starter battery on the isolator. The fridge was humming. The water pump was growling as it built up pressure. She had ignited the flame in the water heater and tested the central heating system. Everything was up and running, and the Volvo had not yet returned. Marnie went aft and switched off the engine, leaning against the bulkhead. Her motives may have been right, but in pursuing them she had gone behind the back of her lover and her closest friend.

  Walking through to the dining area, she dropped onto the banquette and put her head in her hands. What was she doing? How had she got herself into this mess? Her life had been difficult enough since leaving the secure job in London and branching out on her own. Did she really want these complications?

 

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