Silent Truths (7 page)

Freeling took the receipt and looked it over. She then handed it to Jones, who read it before passing it to the man in the corner.

After a while, like a weather vane, Freeling’s brief storm retreated into the shadows as Jones’s warmth returned to the light. ‘Do you have any idea, Mrs Ashby, why your husband would have killed Sophie Long?’

Beth’s eyes were bright with confusion. ‘No,’ she answered truthfully. ‘None whatsoever. He’s not a violent man. He never has been.’ Then realizing her answer had suggested a doubt in his innocence, she hurriedly said, ‘He wouldn’t have done it. He couldn’t. If you knew him … He’d never hurt anyone …’

Jones looked at her, his eyes a reminder of what he’d read in her diary.

‘I mean physically,’ she said. ‘He’d never hurt anyone physically.’

‘Has he ever told you anything that might have been … instrumental, or perhaps in any way linked, to Sophie Long’s death?’

Beth frowned. ‘I’m not sure I understand the question,’ she said. ‘I haven’t spoken to my husband since it happened, so how could he have told me anything –’

‘I mean before it happened,’ Jones interrupted. ‘Did you ever get the impression that your husband was, well, holding something back from you?’

‘He often did that,’ she reminded him.

‘Of course. But I wasn’t actually referring to the, er, other women in his life. I was thinking more of his professional, or financial affairs. Did you ever
feel that there might be something there that he was, perhaps, in with too deep?’

Again she frowned. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Nothing he might have been involved in, or knew about, or was trying to cover up?’

She was shaking her head. ‘I don’t know what you’re getting at. If you could be more specific …’

Jones looked down at his dossier again. ‘Does your husband discuss his colleagues with you?’ he asked. ‘I mean those since his recent appointment?’

‘Occasionally. Some of them have been friends for many years.’

He met her eyes again. ‘You’re aware of the Official Secrets Act, I’m sure.’

‘Of course. And if you’re asking if he ever broke it, then the answer’s not with me. Or not that I was ever aware of.’

Jones looked round as the man in the corner passed him a note.

Beth waited. The silence was too long for Jones just to have read a few lines. Something was happening, but she couldn’t work out what. It was unnerving her. What kind of subtext were they picking up from her answers? What had they understood that she’d had no intention of saying? She was starting to perspire even harder, and the desire to get up and run almost overwhelmed her. But there was nothing to run from. They were only asking her questions that she wasn’t even finding hard to answer. It would be over soon. She’d be able to get up and walk out, knowing that she had nothing to hide and nothing to be afraid of. Dear God, she had to stop feeling so guilty and defensive …

*

‘That’s exactly how I felt,’ Georgie confided later as they swapped stories while speeding down the motorway. ‘There was a moment there when they almost had me thinking I was involved! For God’s sake, we’re talking about murder! They shouldn’t be allowed to force people to behave as though they’re guilty when they didn’t even have anything to do with it.’

‘I suppose it’s one way of trying to find out who did do it,’ Beth mumbled. Then swallowing hard she said, ‘I hope to God we never have to go through it again, but I think we will, don’t you?’

‘I think it’s more likely that you will, considering I was in the Cotswolds at the time. Just thank God for Mrs Tolstoy, eh? And that receipt.’

‘I wonder if they’ll let me have it back,’ Beth said. ‘I still need it for my taxes.’

Georgie glanced over at her, and after a moment’s uncertainty they spluttered with laughter.

‘Isn’t it weird?’ Beth said after a while. ‘The tale of two cleaners. While he’s getting caught at the scene by one, I’m at home getting protection from one. Just thank God it wasn’t today or Wednesday – I’d have been alone then, with no alibi at all.’

‘I still don’t think they’d have seriously suspected you,’ Georgie responded. ‘Like you said, they have to be tough to make sure they’re getting all the facts.’

Beth nodded, and watched a Jaguar go flying past. ‘You know what?’ she said. ‘It struck me that they think Colin might be involved in something else besides all this. Or that’s linked to it, maybe.’

Georgie frowned. ‘Like what?’

‘I’m not sure. It wasn’t clear. Something financial, maybe. Or professional, they said.’

‘Do you think he was?’

‘Not that I know of.’

Georgie hesitated, then decided to say what she was thinking. ‘What about the flat you’re buying? That must be a lot of money.’

Beth groaned and closed her eyes. ‘What’s going to happen about that now?’ she wailed. ‘We’re due to complete next week. We’ll have to pull out. Oh God, I’m going to have to sort out the removers from our house too. I’ll have to put everything in storage.
Shit!
I’ve got nowhere to live! Do you realize that? I’m actually homeless! And whatever profit we make from the house will no doubt end up paying his legal fees, and some.’

‘You’re not homeless,’ Georgie assured her. ‘You’ve always got a place with us, which is where you should be right now anyway, not somewhere out there on your own.’

Beth was quiet as she considered the daunting prospect of the practical and emotional nightmares she was now facing. Every minute, every hour seemed to be bringing some new problem.

‘So what about the money for the flat?’ Georgie prompted.

‘We’re taking out a massive mortgage,’ Beth answered. ‘Or we were. There’s no way I can manage it on my own. I’ll have to call the bank. Oh God, I can’t bear this. Colin, why are you doing this to me?’ Her hands were clasped over her face as she dropped her head towards her chest.

A while later she was gazing blankly out of the window as she said, ‘I wonder if he
was
into
something, you know, crooked or whatever? Some kind of scam, or cult, or porn thing.’ Suddenly the idea was too much. ‘Oh God, please don’t let him have been,’ she implored, ‘or this is only going to get worse. It’ll go on and on and on … I have to see him. I have to know what’s really happening. I take it Bruce hasn’t called yet?’

‘No. He will, as soon as he’s got some news.’

Beth’s head fell back against the seat as she wondered which was hardest to bear – not being in the court with Colin, or waiting to hear what had happened. She was so close to the edge now, it was probably only exhaustion that was holding her back.

Georgie glanced at her sympathetically, then pulled out to overtake a convoy of slow-moving lorries. ‘You know, I wouldn’t go worrying yourself too much over this other thing,’ she said, when finally they’d returned to the centre lane and seventy miles an hour. ‘Remember, he’s pleading not guilty, so it’s going to help their case if they can back it up with some kind of motive. That’ll mean exploring every angle just in case.’

Beth was thinking about the man with the crew cut. ‘He didn’t utter a word,’ she said, after describing him, ‘but there was something about him …’

‘There was someone sitting in on my interview like that too,’ Georgie said. ‘He didn’t say anything, just watched the whole thing and listened. I thought he was probably some kind of assessor. You know, one of those psychologist types who’s working on new interrogation techniques.’

‘Could be,’ Beth responded. The idea of there being anything sinister attached to the two men’s
observation wasn’t one she was willing to run with right now so Georgie’s answer would do. Life was already complicated enough.

After a while Georgie said quietly, ‘They seem pretty convinced he did it, don’t they?’

Beth sighed wearily. ‘Can you blame them, when from what we’ve heard so far they’ve got enough evidence to throw away the key?’

‘So why would he?’ Georgie asked.

Beth took a breath and held it. ‘I wish to God I knew,’ she said finally. ‘But if he did, I can tell you this much: it wouldn’t have been because he was afraid of me finding out about his affair, the way the press currently seem to think.’

Georgie didn’t respond to that, for knowing Colin as she did, she strongly doubted that motive too.

‘What about you?’ Beth said. ‘Why do you think he might have done it?’

‘I’ve got no idea. But if he didn’t, I just wonder how on earth he’s going to prove it when they found him right there.’

Beth’s eyes closed as though to block out the image of Sophie Long’s lifeless body lying on a bed, and Colin’s ridiculous semi-nudity as he sat beside her, having throttled her with a pair of tights. Dear God, it was so burlesque it might actually be comical were it not so tragic.

‘That could be Bruce,’ Georgie said as her mobile rang.

Beth answered it.

‘Hi, it’s me,’ Bruce said.

‘It’s Beth,’ she informed him, her insides stretching with nerves. ‘What happened?’

‘It went the way we expected.’

‘You mean –’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘So where is he?’ she said, the words barely making it past her throat.

‘They’ve taken him to Wandsworth.’

She pictured him in a sealed prison van, travelling through the city he knew so well, unable to see out, not knowing when he would again. She opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly she had no breath. She gulped for air, but her lungs wouldn’t work. She looked at Georgie with bulging, panicked eyes.

Georgie swerved the car fast on to the hard shoulder. ‘It’s OK,’ she said, grasping her. ‘Just take it steady. One breath at a time. That’s it. Slowly. Slowly. In. Out.’

Beth’s skin was like ice, while her head roared like a fire. Some air was getting through now, but still not enough to speak. Then her limbs started to judder.

‘Beth!’ Georgie cried. ‘Oh my God, what’s happening to you? Is it your heart?’

‘No,’ Beth managed to gasp. ‘I’m OK. It’s just …’

‘Take it easy,’ Georgie insisted. ‘Don’t try to speak. I’ll call an ambulance.’

‘No, I’m OK,’ Beth whispered. ‘I’m sorry … I don’t know what … I’m not dealing with this very well …’

‘You’re still in shock,’ Georgie declared forcefully, as though to convince them both. ‘It’s shock!’ she repeated. ‘You’ll be all right.’

Beth nodded, and continued to fight for air. The struggle was becoming easier now, the terrible
shaking slowly subsiding. ‘They’ve taken him to prison,’ she said finally.

‘Oh God,’ Georgie murmured, stroking Beth’s hair. They’d known it would probably happen, but being prepared had obviously not lessened the blow. ‘I’m sorry,’ she soothed. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Beth looked down at the phone, still there in her hand.

Georgie took it. ‘Bruce?’ she said.

‘What’s going on?’ he demanded. ‘Is she all right?’

‘She’ll be fine. I think it was some sort of panic attack.’

‘Speak to Dr Howard when you get home,’ he told her. ‘There might be something he can give her. Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine. More to the point, how’s Colin?’

‘Between you and me, he was pretty shaken up by it too.’

Georgie kept her eyes away from Beth. ‘What happens next?’ she asked.

‘We should know the date for crown court by the end of the week. That’s where he’ll be committed for trial unless it can be demonstrated that there is no case to answer. Unless, by some miracle, we can prove he didn’t do it. All hope at the moment is on the results of the forensic tests.’

‘When are they due?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine. Weeks probably.’

Georgie shifted the phone to her other ear. ‘Are you coming home tonight?’ she asked.

‘No. I’ll stay in London.’

‘Then call us later. Beth’ll want to talk to you again.’

‘Of course. There’s one other thing you should know,’ Bruce said, before she could ring off. ‘The press have got hold of Colin’s state of dishabille when the cleaner walked in. They’re going to have a field day with it, we know that, and it won’t be pleasant, so it might be a good idea to keep Beth away from as many papers and TV as you can.’

‘Of course.’

‘How was it with the police, by the way?’

‘Not an experience I’d care to repeat. It was worse for Beth.’ She glanced at Beth, and squeezed her hand. ‘We’ll get through it, though,’ she said to them both.

Beth took the phone. ‘Bruce, will he be allowed to make any calls?’ she asked, wiping tears from under her eyes.

‘He should be able to. We’re taking him a supply of phone cards tomorrow.’

‘What about visits?’

‘I think he’ll be allowed two or three a week. I’ll check.’

The need to touch him, hear him, smell him suddenly rose up in her with such urgency she couldn’t bear it. ‘When you see him,’ she said, failing to keep her voice steady, ‘please tell him … Tell him I don’t care what he has or hasn’t done. It’s not important. What matters is that I see him, or at the very least speak to him.’

‘I’ll tell him,’ Bruce promised.

An hour later Beth was gazing blindly out of the window as they joined a small stream of traffic heading off the motorway towards the roundabout that opened south towards Bath, and north towards Stroud. Georgie indicated right, and
circled round to the north. They stayed on the main road for some time, passing through the centre of a large, rambling council estate, where Beth watched the rows upon rows of identical houses passing by and wondered what the women inside would say if she told them how she envied their uncomplicated lives and faithful husbands. Her assumption was no doubt as wrong as it was condescending, but whoever those women and their husbands were, behind all those ruched net curtains and tidy front lawns, she knew they would almost certainly have an opinion on her husband, and her life, by now, thanks to the press. She wondered if it would even occur to them that they might be wrong.

Soon after the estate Georgie steered the car off the main road and began winding through the narrow country lanes that would eventually lead them to her and Bruce’s South Cotswolds home.

Beth was thinking about her mother now, as she watched the passing green and yellow fields, turning gold in the early evening sunlight, and the lusciously dense hedgerows and trees that occasionally hemmed them into a sparkling tunnel of leaves. Joyce had surely heard the news by now, but as far as Beth knew she’d made no attempt to call. Nor had Beth any inclination to either. But she wasn’t going to worry about it when she had plenty to worry about already. Just thank God for Georgie and Bruce, or she’d be truly alone right now, since there were no other friends she felt as close to, and no relatives who’d care.