Black Valley (39 page)

A minute went by.

Then another.

At 11.02, the knock came.

She got up and opened the door. Elinor was standing there, an eager look on her face.

‘Come in.’ Jess gave her an encouraging smile.

She watched as Elinor went over to the couch. She was wearing her usual scruffy black clothes, but her hair was freshly washed and shining in the sunlight.

Elinor lay down on the couch, settling her head on the cushion. Jess sat down on the armchair behind her, out of her line of sight.

There was a silence.

‘I don’t know where to start, really.’ Elinor gave a deep sigh. ‘It’s all such a mess.’

‘Why not try the beginning?’ Jess’s voice was gentle.

‘OK.’

Another silence. Jess could feel her heart thumping in her chest but she tried to ignore it.

‘Right.’ Elinor seemed to make a decision. ‘Well, I suppose I’ve got to tell you. I mean, as you said, this is all in confidence, isn’t it?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Whatever I tell you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Even if it’s . . . a criminal offence?’

‘Elinor, I’m your therapist. You know you can tell me anything.’

‘Well, then.’ Elinor took a deep breath, then let it out. ‘It was me who killed Ursula.’

Jess thought of the Dictaphone on the mantelpiece, and the phone on the desk. She hoped to God they were both working. And that Bonetti was receiving the message loud and clear.

‘It was her fault. She came round to my studio while I was out, started rooting around, and found a phial of ochre that I’d been using. She put two and two together and realized it
was me doing the Hefin Morris paintings. She’d obviously suspected something all along.’ Elinor paused. ‘When I came home and found her there, she started waving the phial about
and threatening to tell everyone what was going on. She kept saying people need to know the truth, but I knew it wasn’t that. She was just jealous of my talent, you see.’ A bitter note
crept into Elinor’s voice. ‘I tried to talk her out of spilling the beans, but she wasn’t having any of it. She was determined to go ahead. We started to argue, and then I decided
I’d had enough. So I picked up a canvas stretcher bar, a great big metal thing, and hit her with it.’

There was a long silence.

‘Go on.’

‘It only took one blow. She went down.’ Elinor gave a smile, almost a smirk. ‘I couldn’t believe how easy it was, actually. There was hardly any blood. Just a big bruise
on the side of her head.’ She paused. ‘I didn’t feel sorry, not at all. I felt relieved. I hated her, and I was glad she was dead.’

‘Well, that’s understandable.’ Jess spoke in a low voice, hoping her words wouldn’t be audible except to Elinor. ‘I suppose you must have felt she betrayed
you.’

Elinor nodded.

‘What happened next?’

‘Well, while I was there with her, wondering what to do, Blake appeared. He had a key to the place, too; just let himself in whenever he felt like it. He’d come to talk to me about a
new painting I was working on. You see, he and I were in on the Hefin Morris project together. In fact, it had been his idea. It was a secret between the two of us. Nobody else knew about it. Not
even Isobel.’

Elinor smiled. Once again, the smile was almost a smirk.

‘Anyway, of course, when he saw the body, he panicked. Told me to call the police, say it was an accident. But I had a better idea. I told him to remove the Gwen John painting that was
hanging on the wall, take it home, and hide it. We’d pretend Ursula had been killed in a robbery at the studio. I’d clean off the stretcher bar and use it for a canvas, so there
wouldn’t be a murder weapon.’ She paused. ‘Blake went off and did what I told him. It all went to plan. But later on, he began to crack. He couldn’t cope with the guilt, he
said. That was where it started to go wrong.’

‘Go wrong?’ Jess echoed Elinor’s words, just to let her know she was following them.

‘I don’t know if I should be telling you this.’ Elinor shifted her head on the cushion.

‘You can trust me, Elinor. I’ve told you that. Carry on.’

‘It just makes me so sound horrible, though. You won’t like me any more if I tell you.’

Elinor was truly insane, thought Jess. She was talking as if she’d stolen a bag of sweets, not murdered her own mother.

‘I’m not here to judge you. This is a safe space.’ Once again, Jess lowered her voice as she spoke, ashamed of trotting out the clichés.

‘OK. Well, that was when I realized Blake would have to go. He was running round behaving like an idiot. Kept coming to see me, telling me I had to go to the police and confess.
Threatening to tell Isobel. He was frightened that I’d tell you everything, so he’d be incriminated, as an accomplice. That’s why he broke into your office and looked through your
file on me. He didn’t find anything, except the time of my appointment, so he got Isobel to call you to see if she could find out more.’

‘So Isobel was in on all this?’

‘Not at that stage, no. She just did what he told her. You see, the policewoman was closing in on him – she was convinced he was involved with Ursula’s death.’ Elinor
sighed. ‘I suppose I tried to take advantage of the situation. Make him look guilty, so they wouldn’t come after me. I started telling people I suspected him. Including you.’

There was a brief silence.

‘I’m sorry about that, Jess. I shouldn’t have done that. Lied to you. I feel bad about that.’

‘I understand.’

‘You see, I was disappointed in him,’ she went on. ‘It was just weakness on his part. He couldn’t cope with the situation. And of course, I realized that if he cracked,
I’d be done for. So I decided something had to be done.’

‘And what was that?’

‘When he came to find me at the tower, I ran up to the top.’

Elinor came to a halt. Keep it rolling, Jess thought. Nearly there.

‘He came after me. We were arguing. He was telling me that if I didn’t confess, he would. He was waving his arms about, shouting at me, like Ursula had. I was scared. I thought he
was going to push me over the edge. So I got in first. I pushed him. Gave him a shove, and he went over.’

Good, thought Jess. Got that in the bag.

‘That wasn’t hard, either.’ Elinor paused. ‘It’s funny, it’s actually quite easy killing people. I always thought it would be difficult.’

I’m doing the right thing here, thought Jess. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.

‘After that, I ran off, of course. I was in a bit of a state, to be honest. I liked Blake, I didn’t want to kill him. But, you see, I had to.’ She put her hand up to forehead,
rubbing her eyes. ‘It was a mistake, really. I shouldn’t have done that.’

Once again, there was a silence. Jess knew better than to break it.

‘I’d made a complete mess of things,’ she went on, ‘so I called Isobel and she came and got me. I called you too, of course, but Isobel got there first. And once we got
home I told her everything. She was appalled, of course, and absolutely furious with me. But she didn’t turn me in. She couldn’t, you see.’

‘Couldn’t?’

‘No. That’s the kind of relationship we have. We stick together, whatever happens.’ Elinor shrugged. ‘She covered for me. And she’s very practical, you see, which
I’m not. She came up with a good plan. She took the painting to the police, said she’d found it in the house, that Blake had killed Ursula and committed suicide. The police were happy
with the story. And for a while, it looked as if everything would be OK. Isobel came to live with me. I was thrilled that she was back. But, of course, it didn’t work. She was heartbroken
about Blake. Couldn’t forgive me. I don’t think she ever will.’

For the first time, there was genuine remorse in Elinor’s voice.

‘We decided to keep the Morris project going,’ she went on, after a pause. ‘It seemed a shame to let it drop. So Isobel got in touch with Jacob Dresler and told him the
truth.’

Jess put her hand up to her mouth in horror. Surely Dresler hadn’t . . .

‘Only about me painting as Morris,’ Elinor continued. ‘Not about the other stuff, of course.’

Jess took her hand away.

‘He was happy to front up the operation. He would have looked a bit of a fool if the truth had come out, after all.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘But then he mentioned to Isobel that you were getting suspicious about the Morris paintings. He said you thought Isobel was behind them. I was upset about that.’ Elinor frowned.
‘Isobel could never have done them. She just hasn’t got the technique.’

‘Well, I don’t know much about painting, you see.’

‘I should have realized that.’ Once again, Elinor seemed remorseful. ‘But anyway, that’s why I asked you to come down to the mine and see my work. I wanted to show you it
was me who was doing the Morris paintings. And I wanted to show you that the claustrophobia had lifted, that I was painting in the mine again.’ She paused. ‘Then Isobel came into the
mine while we were there. I’d forgotten that she was coming in that day, to set up some stuff for the exhibition.’ Elinor frowned. ‘She got scared, I suppose, thought you would
tell everyone what you’d seen, and the whole project would be ruined. That’s why she maced you and left you there.’

Jess wondered whether Bonetti was listening, and, if she was, whether she’d decided to act.

‘Isobel made me run off with her,’ Elinor continued. ‘I told her we could trust you, that you were my therapist, and that everything you witnessed was confidential.’ She
paused. ‘She didn’t believe me. She thought you’d find out about what had happened to Ursula and Blake and report us to the police. But I told her she was wrong.’

Jess remained silent.

‘Later on, I persuaded her that we should come back and look for you.’

Oh yes, thought Jess. I’m sure you did.

‘You weren’t there so we assumed you’d got out. I was so relieved about that, Jess.’ She hesitated, perhaps sensing Jess’s disbelief. ‘So we just got on and
cleared everything away. That’s why the police couldn’t find anything.’

Elinor came to a halt. Once again, Jess waited for her to go on. Eventually, she did.

‘I felt really bad about it all. That’s why I came round to your house to see you. To tell you I was sorry. I met your daughter. She told me you were in hospital. She was so nice.
She reminded me so much of you.’

‘She liked you, too.’

There was a long silence. Where are you, Bonetti? Jess thought. Get down here, for God’s sake.

Elinor gazed out of the window, a dreamy look on her face.

‘You’ve got another daughter, too, haven’t you?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Rose.’

‘Yes. Rose.’

‘How old is she?’

‘Eleven. Coming up to twelve.’

‘I’d like to meet her, too.’

As she spoke, the door to the consulting room opened.

Elinor sat up on the couch, as if a bolt of electricity had gone through her, and swivelled round towards the door.

Lauren Bonetti marched into the room. Behind her were two uniformed male police officers.

Elinor stared at Jess, a look of incomprehension on her face. ‘What’s going on? Tell them to go away.’

One of the policemen stepped forward.

Bonetti began to speak. ‘Elinor Powell, you are under arrest for the murders of Ursula Powell and Blake Thomas.’

Elinor looked stunned. She jumped up off the couch and tried to dodge round the policeman. He moved towards her and grasped her round the shoulders, holding her as she struggled. The other
policeman came forward and handcuffed her.

‘You do not have to say anything.’ Bonetti was still talking. ‘But it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court .
. .’

Elinor wasn’t listening. Instead, she’d fixed her gaze on Jess. There were tears in her eyes.

‘How could you?’

Jess looked away.

‘You lied to me. I trusted you. You told me I could tell you anything.’

The policeman pushed Elinor towards the door.

‘You said . . .’

The policeman gripped Elinor’s body more firmly, leading her away.

‘Call yourself a therapist?’ Elinor began to shout, her voice shaking with rage. ‘You lured me in here. You laid me down on that couch. You got me to talk. And then you turned
me in!’

They led Elinor through the door. In the corridor, she began to kick and scream.

‘You bitch! You fucking liar!’

The screams echoed down the hallway.

‘Don’t listen.’ Bonetti went over and closed the door. Elinor’s muffled screams were still audible as she was led down the staircase.

Bonetti came up and stood beside Jess. ‘Look, you don’t have anything to reproach yourself for. You did the right thing.’

Jess didn’t respond.

‘I’m going to have to go now. But I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.’ She paused.

‘Try to put this out of your mind. Get some rest.’

Bonetti reached forward and laid a hand on her arm. Jess shrugged it off and walked over to the window, her back to the policewoman.

She heard Bonetti walk away, opening and closing the door to let herself out. She didn’t turn round.

She looked out of the window, her mind a blank. After a while, she saw Elinor in the street below. She’d stopped screaming. She wasn’t struggling. There was an officer either side of
her. Bonetti had caught up with them, and was walking behind her.

Some words that Jess remembered ran through her head.

The Ethical Framework for Good Practice in Counselling and Psychotherapy. She’d learned it off by heart.

As Elinor got into the police car, she looked up for a moment at the window where Jess was standing. Jess put her hand up in a gesture of farewell. Elinor ignored the gesture, and continued to
stare up at her, as if in a trance, until the policeman pushed her into the car.