A Killing Resurrected (41 page)

Taylor fought hard to control his voice as he went on. ‘I tackled Steph about it last night. I told her everything that John had said, hoping against hope that he had made it all up and she would deny it, but I had to know.'

He ran his tongue over his lips and there were tears in his eyes as he said, ‘She admitted it. Never batted an eye. She said, “It was necessary, Kevin. It had to be done, so I took care of it. If your father had left there alive, we would have both been finished. Careers and future down the drain. I knew you didn't have the balls for it, so I took care of it.” As for the killing of Roger, she said the same thing. It had to be done.

‘She was very calm, very matter-of-fact. She told me she had killed Barry for the same reason, to protect us both, and she took the proceeds from the robbery and hid them until she could recover them later.'

‘So how did she dispose of the jewellery and the gold?' asked Paget.

‘Bit by bit in Amsterdam when she went to visit her relatives over there. She said they ripped her off over there, because all she got was eight thousand for the lot when it was worth at least twice that much.'

Paget and Tregalles exchanged glances. So much for the claim the Bergman's had made.

‘What prompted her to go after Chadwell?' asked Paget.

‘I suppose I did, when I told her he'd threatened to take us both down,' said Taylor. ‘She reacted as she'd always done. John posed a threat, so he had to go. Unfortunately, I was still sitting there trying to understand how Steph could be so matter-of-fact about what she'd done, and trying to understand how I could have been so blind for so many years.' He shook his head sadly. ‘Wilfully blind,' he ended huskily.

‘It wasn't until I heard the garage door go up that I realized where she was going and what she was going to do. I followed, but got there just a bit too late.'

‘But how did she think
you
would react to another killing, especially after admitting to killing your father and allowing you to think that you had done it?'

‘I think Steph believed that I would never betray her, no matter what she did. And with good reason, because I have always been so afraid of losing her that I have gone along with virtually everything she ever asked of me.'

‘But why kill her?' Tregalles asked. ‘Why didn't you just pull her off Chadwell instead of bashing her skull in with that iron stand?'

Taylor turned to look at him. His cheeks were moist, his face was pale, and his eyes were like chips of ice. ‘She had to be stopped,' he said, ‘no matter what the consequences. The killing had to end. Besides,' he added with a wry twist of the mouth, ‘I knew that sooner or later she would see me as a potential threat, and Steph was nothing if not practical, so I would have to go. This way, for once in my life, it was
my
choice, not Steph's.'

T
he breakfast tray sat untouched beside the bed. Amy didn't feel like eating after being told that John had died during the night. It wasn't that she was in shock, or anything like that; in fact she wasn't conscious of feeling anything at all, except, perhaps, relief.

It was just that there was so much to think about now that he was gone; so much to do; so many decisions to make. Thank goodness it had happened at the beginning of the holidays, because it meant she would have at least a month to deal with things before she returned to school.

If
she returned to school . . .

The thought surprised her. It seemed to have come from nowhere. She started to dismiss it, then paused. After all, the house would be hers. John had a good life insurance policy; there would be something coming from work, and she could sell his car, so chances were there would be enough to pay off the mortgage on the house, or at least reduce it by a considerable amount.

And it was big enough.

Amy pursed her lips as she thought about it. She'd always dreamed of running a play school. Parents, especially working parents, were always looking for somewhere to leave their younger children, and there were never enough facilities to meet demand, so why not? She was a qualified teacher; she'd taught small children for years, and her last review at school had commended her for her after-hours work with the little ones as well, so there should be no problem there.

Amy winced as she put her hands behind her head and closed her eyes, but she barely noticed the pain. Her mind was racing. If she knocked out the wall between the living and dining room . . .

‘Never did get a chance to question Chadwell before he died,' Tregalles told Ormside. ‘He never regained consciousness. I went to the hospital again last night, hoping he'd come round, but he never did, so I packed it in at eleven, and I'm told he died around three this morning.'

‘Still, what Kevin Taylor said about what Chadwell told him about the killing of Roger Corbett seems to be checking out,' said Ormside. ‘Forensic found wads of tissue and pond residue under the passenger's seat of Mrs Chadwell's car, and they found a pair of stained trainers belonging to Mrs Taylor in the laundry room of Taylor's house. They think there's a good chance that they were soaked when she was drowning Corbett, so they're testing for a match.

‘They also found a pair of heavy gardening gloves in Chadwell's garden shed. The weave matches the pattern on some of Sharon Jessop's bruises when she was first taken into hospital.'

Tregalles pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘I'm not sorry to see Chadwell gone,' he said, ‘but I still can't make up my mind about Taylor. If what he told us about his wife is true, then I can almost feel sorry for him. But he must have known, or at least suspected, that some of the things she told him weren't true, and yet he let himself believe her.

‘Mind you,' he continued, ‘I can see it in a way. You never met her, did you, Len?' Tregalles rolled his eyes. ‘Well, I did, and I can tell you, she was one
really
good-looking woman, and she must have been something to see thirteen years ago. I think I'd have been ready to believe anything she told me back then.'

‘You still would,' Ormside said bluntly. ‘Is it true Taylor could have made bail, but refused it?'

Tregalles nodded. ‘That's right. And unless he decides to change his plea to not guilty, he'll be going away for a very long time.'

David Taylor staggered along the hallway, under the weight of a large cardboard box, to the sun room at the back of the house. He set the box next to the others then sat down on it and mopped his brow. ‘That's the last one,' he gasped. He glanced around. ‘Sorry about the mess, Claire. I'll have it sorted in a couple of days. What is the temperature anyway?'

‘In the shade, about thirty-one,' Claire told him, ‘but it must be twice that in that old van of yours. I hope your paints will be all right.' She popped the tab on a can of beer and handed it to him. ‘That should help,' she said, and opened a can for herself.

He raised the can in a gesture of thanks and drank. ‘I packed them in the cooler, so they'll be fine,' he assured her as he wiped his mouth. ‘And thanks for everything, Claire. I really don't know where I would have gone if you hadn't offered me this. And the light in here is fantastic.'

David took another drink. ‘They let me see Kevin this morning,' he said abruptly. ‘Ten minutes, that's all they'd allow us. I still don't understand what happened. I can't believe that he was a member of that gang, although it does explain why he wanted me to cover for him that morning, and the way he was acting before and after Dad was killed. I wanted to ask him so much, but as I said, we only had ten minutes. But Stephanie . . .?' He shook his head. ‘It doesn't seem possible that she could have done the things the police are saying she did, yet Kevin says it's true.

‘Funny,' he went on, ‘she was always nice to me, pleasant and all that, and she and Kevin seemed to be so right for each other, and yet I could never quite take to her; never felt completely comfortable in her company. Don't know why; it was just a feeling. What did you think of her, Claire?'

‘Oddly enough, my feelings towards her were very much the same as yours,' she said. ‘As you say, she was always pleasant, but I couldn't escape the feeling that she had control of the strings, and the rest of us were puppets. Silly, I suppose, but that is how I felt.'

‘I don't think it's silly at all,' David said seriously. He took a long pull at his beer, then set the can aside. ‘But this isn't getting me unpacked and settled in, is it? Do you think this is going to work, Claire? My living here I mean?'

‘We'll just have to see, won't we?' Claire said lightly. ‘But right now I'd better get the dinner started. You must be famished after what you have done today.' She left the room and went into the kitchen, with the question still rattling around in her head. Would things work out for both of them? Only time would tell, but she was going to do everything she could to make sure that they did.

‘Hard day?' asked Grace as she greeted Paget at the door. ‘You look tired. I was hoping that things would ease up a bit now that Kevin Taylor is behind bars, and the case is all but closed.'

He kissed her. ‘Oh, they will,' he said. ‘There are still the usual loose ends to be sorted out. You know what it's like, but Tregalles and Ormside will take care of most of those. As for me, I have something else to think about.'

‘Such as . . .?'

‘Such as the future,' he said. ‘I had a call from Chief Superintendent Brock just before I left. He told me that Alcott is in hospital, the psychiatric ward. It seems he's had a breakdown, and there's no telling when he'll be back – or if he'll be back for that matter. Brock didn't give any details, but he seemed to think it unlikely, and he's asked me if I want to continue on as Acting Superintendent until we know for certain.'

‘Which you're doing now,' said Grace, ‘so what's the problem?'

‘The way Brock sees it, whoever takes on the acting position will be the most likely candidate for the permanent job if Alcott doesn't return. So, if I accept, I would have to be willing to take on the job permanently in that event. If I'm not prepared to take it, then he would move someone else in who would be.'

Grace frowned. ‘But wouldn't they have to post it when it comes to filling the position permanently?'

‘Technically, yes, but you know how it works, Grace. Unless the person who's been acting makes a complete mess of things, he's got a head start on everyone else, so it would be a commitment.'

Grace stepped back to search his face. ‘So what did you tell him?' she asked.

‘Nothing yet. He told me to think about it and let him know.'

‘It's a good step up,' Grace said cautiously.

‘It is,' he said, ‘but it would mean I would have to spend a lot more time behind a desk and leave the street-level stuff to others, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that. I like what I do, and I like the people I work with.'

‘So, when do you have to give him an answer?'

His mouth twitched. Grace couldn't tell if it was meant to be a grin or a grimace. ‘Tomorrow,' he said. ‘First thing. So guess what we're going to be talking about over dinner tonight?'