Picture of Innocence (31 page)

‘It was the first time he had been alone in the house for months,’ Judy said. ‘The wonder is that more people weren’t trying to kill him, if you ask me.’

‘True,’ he said, and smiled. ‘ But young Mr Law did have access to drugs of the kind used.’

‘Not as ready access as Nicola Hutchins,’ said Judy. And you’re not telling me that McQueen couldn’t lay his hands on drugs any time he wanted. Come to that, Mrs Melville is a known associate of a convicted drug dealer, so her husband has a contact.’

‘Quite,’ said Lloyd. ‘Which is why I’m not leaping to the conclusion that Mrs Hutchins murdered her father. And as to your other points; he went on. ‘I’m glad that Rachel Bailey isn’t on a murder charge.
That’s
because I fancy her, and I am possibly overcompensating by still including her on my list of suspects.’ He sighed. ‘And yes, I wish her boyfriend still was on a murder charge. That’s because I’m paranoid. And I’m not crossing anyone at all off. That’s because I’m a very, very good detective.’

She smiled. ‘You’ll do,’ she said.

This time, Lloyd did the talking, while she took notes, and watched Nicola Hutchins as she and her husband were told that Curtis Law had been released and the charges withdrawn.

‘What about Rachel?’ she said.

‘I can’t discuss any other aspect of this enquiry with you,’ said Lloyd. ‘But I can tell you that I have a search warrant.’ He took it out, and gave her a copy. ‘I am going to instruct my officers to check your drug supply, and your treatment records. I understand that you do have to keep a book with regard to certain of your drugs.’

Nicola at last realized that Lloyd was questioning her as a suspect, and her eyebrows rose high on her forehead. ‘And you think
I
drugged him?’

Judy was making notes. She indicated the stress, which seemed to her to be on the wrong word.

‘Well,’ said Lloyd, ‘ it’s much too early to say that we think anything that positive. But your father died as a result of an overdose of drugs. You were at the farm at the material time, and you do have access to the drugs involved, which were a fast-acting barbiturate and morphine or a morphine derivative. A hypodermic needle was found on the road outside your father’s property, and contains the residue of the drugs used. It is one which is just as likely to be used by vets as by anyone else. You do see, don’t you, that you are rather bound to come under suspicion?’

‘You think I murdered him.’

Gus Hutchins got up and walked out. Nicola hardly seemed to notice, as she launched into her story once again. ‘ My father rang me about a sheep,’ she said, ‘and I went there to ask him where it was. He wasn’t there. I waited for him, and when he didn’t come back, I left.’

Judy noticed it again. Always, always, that slight hesitation before her repeated declaration that she had waited for him, and then she had left. If you listened to lies for a living, you got pretty good at spotting them, and Judy would swear that that was a lie.

‘If I’d been going to murder my father, I’d have done it years ago,’ Nicola went on. ‘And why would I have used morphine
and
barbiturates? Why wouldn’t I just use the barbiturates? They don’t have to go in the book. Besides, I’m not the only one with access to drugs, am I? Rachel’s boyfriend was showing his haul off on television on Monday night. He seems to be able to get whatever he wants whenever he wants it.’

Judy saw Lloyd colour slightly. There was a strange bravado about Nicola Hutchins this morning that she hadn’t seen before.

‘But he wasn’t there at the material time, Mrs Hutchins,’ Lloyd said. ‘You were.’

‘But I thought
she
was,’ said Nicola. ‘Rachel. That’s why I thought he’d been hitting her, and she’d got away from him. I … I thought he’d gone after her.’ She looked puzzled. ‘But he hadn’t,’ she said. And she was in London, wasn’t she? I don’t understand. I didn’t murder him.’

‘What made you think Mrs Bailey was there?’ Lloyd asked.

Nicola had a visible argument with herself before she answered Lloyd’s question. ‘Because I saw her car,’ she said eventually. ‘I saw it driving away as I was coming up to the farm gate.’

Rachel was more bewildered, more confused, more afraid than she had been at any time. ‘What do you mean?’ she said, for the umpteenth time.

‘I mean what I said.’ Curtis sighed. ‘I didn’t kill him.’

‘But … but I saw him! He was dead. You’d stabbed him!’

Curtis put his arm round her, and sat her down in an armchair. ‘But that isn’t what killed him,’ he said. ‘Something else did.’

‘What else?’

‘I don’t know. They didn’t tell me. They just said that I hadn’t killed him, and they dropped the charges and let me go.’

He held her close, kissing her, telling her everything was all right, explaining it all to her again. She understood, for God’s sake. She understood that
he
had been eliminated from their enquiries. But she also understood, which he didn’t seem to, that she hadn’t.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘That’s why I’m here. I think they’ll be asking you more questions, and it’s important you know what to say if they do.’

‘Why?’ said Rachel, jumping immediately on the inconsistency. ‘Why, if we never had nothin’ to do with how he died?’

Curtis smiled. ‘Stop doing this to yourself,’ he said. ‘Stop worrying. I just think it’s best if we keep things simple. If our stories don’t tally, then they
will
keep badgering you, because I don’t suppose he died of natural causes. If they’re still looking for a murderer, you’ll still be the prime suspect, because of the land.’

Rachel pulled away from him. ‘But you said we didn’t kill him!’

‘We didn’t. But I’m sure someone did. And I think the police will ask you more questions. I didn’t tell them the whole truth, and I think it’s important that you know what I did tell them, so that they don’t start suspecting you all over again.’ He looked at her shamefacedly. ‘Because the way things have turned out, I’ve got an alibi, and you haven’t.’

Oh, great. He’d left her up the creek without an alibi. ‘You mean I’m going to end up in prison for somethin’ someone else did,’ she said miserably.

‘No, I don’t. But I thought I was going to get done for murder, and I lied to them about how much you knew. You have to know what I said to them so they don’t get suspicious, that’s all.’ He clasped her hands. ‘Trust me.’

How could she? She had thought he could run rings round the police, and he’d got himself arrested within thirty-six hours of the killing. Now it turned out he hadn’t even done it right. The tears began to fall.

‘Don’t,’ Curtis said, squeezing her hands. ‘ I’ll tell you what to tell them, and you’ll get them off your back, I promise. Will you trust me?’

She didn’t have much option. She nodded.

‘Good.’ He let go of her. ‘ Wipe your eyes, and listen carefully.’

She listened carefully. She was good at that. She had listened carefully to Bernard as he had explained the simple job she had to do, and the enormous amount of money she would get for doing it. She had listened carefully to every warm-weather word that had been uttered in Bernard’s study ever since the day McQueen had walked in here with his offer. She had listened carefully to Curtis’s story about Mr Big, told to her in strictest confidence and in the hope of a quick shag as a result. She had listened carefully to Bernard’s threats as he had beaten her half to death, to Curtis’s horror when he had seen the faded results of that beating, to his offer to get rid of Bernard for her, to his plan for doing it. She had listened carefully to Curtis making Lloyd look stupid on that programme. But he
wasn’t
stupid. She had known then that it would all go wrong, and it had.

‘Have you got that?’

She nodded.

‘Good girl.’ He smiled encouragingly. ‘ You shouldn’t have to be doing any of this,’ he said. ‘But I thought they’d got me, I really did.’

They
had
got him. It was just because he hadn’t done it right that he had got off, and she was supposed to trust him. Rachel tried to stop her lower lip from trembling as the tears came again. She had refused to cry when Bernard Bailey had been using her as a punchbag on what seemed like every other day; she had refused to scream with pain when he had been digging the heel of his shoe into her already swollen and bruised ribs, trying to make her do just that. Why cry now, when she was rid of him, and had done a deal with McQueen which at least kept the roof over her head?

Because prison hadn’t been staring her in the face, that was why. She had begged Curtis not to leave on Sunday night; she had known it could never work. He had been too sure of himself, too cocky.

‘I’ve got to go,’ Curtis said apologetically. ‘ See if I’ve still got a job.’ He smiled, his face tired. ‘ I’m famous now, all right,’ he said.

It had been all over the morning news, even the real news. Pictures of the farm, and of Curtis interviewing her and Bernard. And a voice saying ‘
Charged: the man who reported on the stabbing to death of this Bartonshire farmer is accused of his murder
.’ They liked it being one of their own, the ghouls.

‘
Will
they sack you?’ she asked.

‘Maybe. But I’m not being charged with anything after all, so … I don’t know.’ He smiled. ‘ It might even be good for ratings. The police jumped the gun – I can maybe make out Lloyd was out to get me because of
Mr Big
.’

Oh, God. She didn’t want him trying to be clever, not with Chief Inspector Lloyd. She didn’t want an angry Lloyd on her back. He’d been angry when he came to arrest Curtis, and he’d be angrier still now. ‘ Don’t, Curtis,’ she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. ‘Just let it be.’

‘Why? He
did
jump the gun.’

‘And you
did
stab Bernard!’ she sobbed. ‘Don’t push your luck, Curtis, please. It’s my luck too.’

She allowed herself to be pecked on the cheek, and went with him to the door, watching him drive away. Then she went back into the sitting room, leaving the door open, sat down on the armchair, and cried. But the tears went when she heard the knock at the door; confident, official. A policeman’s knock. And she didn’t cry in front of them.

She went to the open door to find Chief Inspector Lloyd and Inspector Hill. ‘You let him go,’ she said.

‘Yes,’ said Lloyd. ‘May we come in, Mrs Bailey?’

‘Sure.’ She followed them in. ‘Take a seat,’ she said, and the inspector sat down, looking elegant and cool as she took out her notebook. He still stood, looking hot and bothered and a bit flushed. But he wasn’t angrier than ever. He wasn’t angry at all.

‘Mrs Bailey,’ he said. ‘I owe you an apology for the remark made by one of the officers yesterday afternoon. There was no excuse for his behaviour, or for mine in failing to reprimand him. I should have asked him to apologize to you in person, but I hope you can accept my apology from both of us.’

Rachel smiled at the little speech. She hadn’t been wrong about him after all. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘It’s all right. Sit down. Can I get you somethin’?’ she asked. ‘Lemonade again?’

‘Oh, yes, please,’ said Lloyd.

‘Thank you,’ said Inspector Hill.

Rachel looked at Lloyd again. ‘Lots of ice,’ she promised him, as she departed for the kitchen.

This was like some sort of dream. They’d arrested Curtis, and Lloyd had behaved like a cop, ordering Curtis about, ordering her about, letting that bastard get away with saying he wouldn’t mind giving her one. Now Curtis was out, and they were here, Lloyd back to being polite and courteous and even apologetic. It didn’t make any sense.

She returned with a tray of drinks, and the jug, which she left close to Lloyd. ‘Help yourself to more when you want it,’ she said, and sat down with her own drink, putting it on the coffee table when she realized her hands were shaking.

‘Curtis says I could’ve got done for murder just ’cos I rang Steve,’ she said.

‘It could have been regarded as aiding and abetting,’ said Lloyd. ‘As it is, there won’t be any charges. Not as far as the stabbing is concerned.’

Rachel frowned. She still couldn’t quite work out why. ‘How come you’re not chargin’ us with nothin’?’

‘Because he didn’t die from what Mr Law did, and we can’t charge someone with maliciously wounding someone else who died before he could bring a complaint against anyone,’ said Inspector Hill.

Rachel nodded. ‘But that don’t make what we did right.’

‘No,’ said Lloyd. ‘But in effect, it never happened at all as far as the law is concerned: He helped himself to more lemonade, and sat back. ‘Mrs Bailey, can I ask where you were at ten to eleven on Sunday night?’

That wasn’t any of the questions Curtis had said they might ask. ‘You know where I was,’ said Rachel. ‘At the hotel.’

‘No,’ said Lloyd. ‘I know you were there at half past three on Monday morning, when you rang for room service. But I don’t know you were there late on Sunday evening. Did anyone see you there?’

That was what Curtis had meant about her not having an alibi. ‘No,’ she said. ‘ We ate in the room, and then after Curtis left, I just stayed in the suite. Why do you want to know that?’

‘Because,’ said Lloyd, ‘Mrs Hutchins says that when she called here at ten to eleven on Sunday night, she saw your car driving away from the farm.’

Rachel frowned. ‘Nicola said that?’

Lloyd nodded.

Rachel shook her head. ‘She wouldn’t say that. It’s not true.’

‘She seemed very certain.’

What was going on? They must have frightened her somehow. ‘She said what you wanted to hear, that’s all,’ said Rachel. ‘She’s like that.’

‘We didn’t suggest it.’

‘But it’s not true. You don’t know her,’ Rachel said. ‘You go on at her enough, she’ll confess to killin’ him herself if she thinks it’ll make you stop. She won’t argue with no one.’

‘I think you might be underestimating her,’ said Lloyd.

No. They didn’t know her. Maybe they hadn’t meant to frighten her, but they had, and she had said the first thing that came into her head to get rid of them.

‘You are denying that your car was here at ten-fifty on Sunday evening?’

‘Don’t know nothin’ ’bout where my car was,’ Rachel said. ‘But
I
wasn’t here.’