Unfaithful (53 page)

“Okay, so where would you like to start?” he asked, deciding to take her direct approach too.

“Do you have any enemies?” she shot at him.

He couldn't help snorting in laughter. “I'd say I have more enemies than most people. I certainly have more enemies than friends these days. Let's just say I haven't exactly led an entirely blameless life, as I'm sure you've gathered from my book and the trial.”

“Who has?” she asked. “The perfect person doesn't exist, thank heavens. Imagine how intolerable they'd be and as the Bible says; let he who is without sin cast the first stone. Don't worry, I'm not going to go all religious on you, but I can guarantee that I'm not here to judge.”

“Thank you,” he was relieved and a little taken aback. He was sick and tired of being cast in the role of the bad guy and it was unusual for someone to be willing to hear his side of the story without letting their preconceived notions and prejudices get in the way. It had been a long time since anyone had given him the benefit of the doubt, perhaps deservedly, he had to reluctantly admit, but Maggie's attitude towards him made a refreshing change.

“Obviously the three women; your wife, Penelope Garrett, and Shona Morgan would probably be top of your list of enemies.”

He nodded in agreement.

“Who else can you think of? Try to consider every possibility. The answer is often hidden just under the surface. I need to know who is connected to these women. We'll spread the net wide before we start narrowing it down.”

“There was another woman, Jackie
Fitzpatrick.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she coughed to hide her obvious surprise. “Go on,” she encouraged.

“Jackie is Shona's sister. I didn't know they were related at the time. We met online and used fake names.”

“I see,” she was typing steadily.

“I don't know if Jackie's husband ever found out about our affair. I haven't spoken to her in years.”

“What's his name?”

“Colm Fitzpatrick.”

“You claim in your book that this Henry Whitington-Smyth character may have been trying to blackmail you,” she stopped her typing and turned to study his face. “I want you to tell me the truth now, between you and me, was he a figment of your imagination as the police claimed?”

Mark paused for a moment, debating whether or not to admit the truth. “I made him up. I was scared. I could feel the web closing in on me and I couldn’t get out. I was desperate. I got the impression that the police had decided right from the start that I was guilty and so did everything in their power to convict me.”

She raised an eyebrow at his admission, but decided not to say anything reproachful. The man had suffered enough. “It really did seem they were determined to con
vict you. It's interesting how one of the detectives commented that he'd never seen so much evidence stacked against one person in his twenty years on the police force.”

“I realise I'm not the most blameless character but I deserved a fair chance and nobody wanted to listen to me. They decided I was lying and that was it.”

“Don't worry, that's not how I work. I believe in innocent until proven guilty.”

“Good.”

“What do you think actually happened?”

“I was set up.”

“If you had to guess, who do you think framed you?”

“Obviously, I don't know for sure, but if I had to guess, I would say it was either Penelope or Shona and if I had to pick one of them, it would be Penelope.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked curiously.

“I tried to break up with her before and I remember her yelling at me that she wasn't going to be treated like that again and I wouldn't get away with it.”

“She probably said that in the heat of the moment.”

“It’s possible, but there's something questionable about her. She seems to have secrets and she worked in London for a while as a model so she probably still has contacts over there. I often asked her about her life as an international model but for some unknown reason she didn't like talking about it.”

“What about Shona? I'm sure she wasn't too impressed when she found out you were sleeping with her sister.”

“Obviously not, but she's a gentle soul. She wouldn't hurt a fly.” He sighed regretfully at the thought of her. He knew he'd hurt her and let her down badly and she hadn't deserved to be treated that way.

“Tell me about Jackie.”

“Well, I knew her as Morganna and she knew me as Sean; those were the names we used on the internet dating site and we continued using them when we met. We never gave each other our real names; less chance of anyone finding out I suppose, and it sort of ad
ded to the intrigue and excitement.”

“Okay, moving swiftly on,” she interrupted his train of thought. “
Would Jackie be capable of framing you?”

“I doubt it. Our affair had begun to fizzle out anyway.”

“Maybe her husband found out and decided to frame you.”

“It's possible, but I never met the man. I have no idea what he is or isn't capable of doing.”

“Let me ask you this, Mark,” she stopped her typing and glanced at him before choosing her words carefully. “What exactly was your part in all of this? Is there no truth whatsoever in any of the allegations which were made against you?” She watched his face for a reaction.

There was a brief pause before he spoke. She could see he was debating whether or not to tell the truth.

“You can trust me and anyway, it doesn't matter now does it? You've done your time,” she coaxed him. “You can't be tried twice for the same crime.” There was nothing she hated more than working with lies and fabrication. The truth nearly always came out in the end but it made her job a lot more difficult if she had to wade through a bunch of lies first.

He ran a hand nervously through his thick hair. “I admit I sent the initial emails to the assassin website. I was angry, ferociously angry, but the deeper I got the less I wanted to go through with it. When I saw the harsh reality of my words written in black and white
in front of me, I knew I couldn't do it. I've done a lot of questionable things in my life but murder was a step too far, even for me. I was angry, so very angry, and I blamed Rebecca and the women for losing everything. I deserved everything Rebecca did to me and plenty more besides. She taught me, the hard way, that I couldn't have my cake and eat it too. I couldn't kill anyone, especially not my wife and the mother of my children. I wouldn't be able to live with the guilt.”

“I believe you,” she said simply, and meant it. There was something heartfelt in the words he had spoken and the expression on his face seemed sincere. She was a
good judge of character and although she could see that he was no angel she doubted he could kill anyone.

“Wow,” he sighed. “I've never admitted that to anyone. It feels good to get it off my chest. I hadn't realised what a burden I was carrying around.”

The meeting continued for another half an hour with Maggie typing copious amounts of notes. “Well, I think I have enough information to be getting on with for now,” smiling as she got to her feet, bringing the meeting to a close. “If I need anything else, I'll call you. I'll be in touch as my investigations develop.”

“Great,” he tried to stifle a yawn. It had been an exhausting morning and had taken more out of him than he'd expected.

She showed him out and closed the door softly after him. She made herself a strong coffee before returning to her desk and reading through her notes. It was going to be an interesting case there was no doubt about it. She smiled and leaned back in her chair, looking forward to the challenges that lay ahead.

Chapter 4

“Do you think he did it?” Shona tentatively asked, eyeing Penelope over the rim of her coffee cup. She had the early morning newspaper spread out on her desk and Mark's release had featured in a full-page article on the tenth page.

“Of course he bloody well did it!” Penelope spluttered. “Who else would want us dead?”

“Don't you think it seems a little obvious? Mark isn't a stupid man.” Shona shot back. “The Stand has pointed out the various holes that were in the evidence but police refused to follow up in any sort of detail.”

“Are you on his side now?” Penelope stared incredulously at her friend. “I don't care what holes may or may not have been in the evidence, the man wanted us dead. It's as simple as that. Case well and truly closed as far as I'm concerned.”

“
Of course I'm not on his side, but this article makes me wonder. I know Mark is far from a saint but what if he isn't guilty? Five years is a long time to spend locked up for a crime you didn't commit.”

“Yeah well, I don't feel remotely sorry for him and you certainly shouldn't waste your sympathies on that man. He more than deserved everything he got after the way he treated us. Anyway, he's out on early release now and I'm quite sure it won't take him long to tell his side of the story to the newspapers or to anyone else who'll bother to listen to his pathetic story.”

“Apparently quite a few people are very interested in his version of events. Obviously, he wasn't able to talk to the media while he was locked up but this article in The Stand claims that some Hollywood studios are planning on making a film about the whole story and he's had several offers from publishers. He's writing a tell-all book at the moment.”

“Good for him.” Sarcasm dripped from Penelope's words. “I should have known he'd turn this situation to his advantage. Men like him always land on their feet.”

Shona was taken aback by the ferocity and venom in her friend's voice. Usually it took a lot for Penelope to drop her cool persona and it was quite shocking to see the anger glittering in her dark eyes. Luckily, Rebecca arrived into the office at that very moment so it was perfect timing to change the subject.

“Damn it!” Rebecca jumped as her Starbucks coffee cup fell from her hands. She dropped her handbag and laptop on the floor and frantically started dabbing at the coffee which was quickly pooling everywhere. “Could this day get any worse?”

“Calm down,” Shona helped her clean the mess. “It's only a small spill. See, there's no harm done.”

“Sorry,” Rebecca sighed heavily. “I'm having a bad day. Actually, I'm having the week from hell.”

“What's happened?” Shona asked. Her face was full of concern. She and Rebecca had grown quite close over the past few years and she could sense that her friend was upset by something more serious than a cup of spilled coffee.

“It's Mark.”

Shona groaned, she might have guessed. He was upsetting everyone this morning; a skill which he still possessed even though he was nowhere in sight. He'd been the main topic of conversation between them since his early release from prison.

“What's he done now?” Penelope piped up from behind her computer where she'd been studiously proofing photographs for a model's portfolio.

“I'm sick and tired of having journalists camped outside the house day and night. Where the hell do they get off? I wish they'd leave us alone. No wonder Chris left. I doubt he'll get any hassle from the media in Australia.”

“Yeah, it's irritating. We've seen a few paparazzi hovering outside the gates of our apartment building but they didn't stick around for long. I suppose it's more difficult to catch us with so many other residents coming and going,” Penelope said. “I'm amazed they haven't turned up here.”

“It's very tiresome,” Rebecca sighed. “I want to be left alone in peace. Is that really too much to expect?”

“How's Chris anyway?” Shona asked, changing the subject.

Rebecca smiled and her face lit up at the mention of her son. “He's having a ball in Australia, absolutely loving every minute of it. Sun, sea, sand; what more could he ask for? It's a surfer's paradise and he's always been a water baby. He loves the lifestyle. Australians are much more into health and fitness than the Irish, but I suppose that's easier when the sun's shining.”

“Very true,” Shona nodded in agreement. “It rains incessantly here and it makes me feel like hibernating. Getting out of bed in the winter is a major accomplishment. It's d
ark and dreary at eight o’ clock in the morning. I couldn't even begin to imagine going for a run.”

“When is he coming back?” Penelope asked.

“He's in no rush. He loves his job and teachers are paid a small fortune over there. I miss him very much but we keep in touch by Skype and Facebook.”

“How's the little munchkin man?” Shona asked.

Rebecca laughed. “He's wonderful and very cute. He's always hugging me and telling me he loves me.” Her face clouded over.  “There's another problem. Mark has applied through his solicitor for visitation rights. He wants to see Ethan every second weekend and during the school holidays.”

“Typical!” Penelope harrumphed. “Where does that man get off? He has such a sense of entitlement. I don't blame you for not wanting Ethan to see him. I certainly wouldn't want my child spending time with an ex-convict.”

“That's not very fair,” Shona said hesitantly. “He is Ethan's father.”

“Fair?” Rebecca shot her an incredulous look. “I don't care what is or isn't fair where that man is concerned. He tried to have us killed for goodness' sake!”