A Taste for Death (62 page)

Suddenly she began crying, great retching sobs which seemed to tear her chest apart and rose to a whooping crescendo of agony. Sarah Berowne moved swiftly over to

her and awkwardly cradled her head. Lady Ursula said: 'This noise is appalling. Take her to her room.'

As if the half-heard words were a threat, Evelyn Matlock

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made some attempt to control herself. Sarah Berowne

acros to Dalgliesh and said:

'But surely he couldn't have done it. There wouldn't have been time to commit the murders, clean up after-wards. Not unless he went by car or by bicycle. He'd never have risked cab. And if he took the cycle, Halliwell must have seen or heard him.'

Lady Urstsla said: 'Halliwell wasn't there to hear him.'

She lifted the receiver and dialled a number. They heard her say:

'Could yot please come over, Halliwell.'

No one spoke. The only sound in the room was Miss Matlock's moted sobbing. Lady Ursula looked at her with a calmly speculative gaze, without pity, almost, it seemed to Dalgliesh, without interest. .m And then they heard footsteps on the marble floor of ie hall and IIalliwell's stocky figure stood in the doorway. i, e was wearing jeans and a short-sleeved, open-necked

i lShirt, and stood there completely at ease. The dark eyes flicked briefly from the police to the three Berownes, then to the sobbing, huddled figure in Sarah Berowne's arms. Then he closed the door and looked calmly at Lady Ursula, undcferential, relaxed, wary, shorter than the other two men, but seeming in his calm self-confidence

momentarily to dominate the room.

Lady Ursula said:

'Halliwell drove me to St Matthew's Church on the night my son died. Describe to the Commander what happened, Halliwell.'

'Everything, my Lady?'

'Of course.'

He spoke directly to Dalgliesh:

'Lady Ursula rang me at ten to six and asked me to have the car ready. She said that she would come out to the garage and we were to leave as quietly as possible by the back door. When she was seated in the car she said that I was to drive to St Matthew's Church, Paddington. It was necessary for me to consult the road map and I did

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So they had left, thought Dalgliesh, nearly an hour

before Dominic Swayne arrived. The fiat over the garage

would have been empty. Swayne would have assumed that

Halliwell had already left for his next day's leave. The

chauffeur went on:

'We arrived at the church and Lady Ursula asked me

to park outside the south door at the back. Her Ladyship

rang the bell and Sir Paul answered it. She went inside.

About half an hour later she returned and asked me to

join them. That must have been about seven o'clock. Sir

. ith another man, a tramp. There was a

Paul was there w .. ..:,, h, eight lines

.t. *ble covereo ,'vut o

sheet of paper on the - about to sign his

of handwriting. Sir Paul said he was

name and wanted me to witness his signature. Then he signed and I wrote my name underneath. The tramp did the same.'

Lady Ursula said:

'It was fortunate that Harry could write. But then he was an old man. He was at a state school when the young

were taught these skills.' Dalgliesh asked: 'Was he sober?'

It was Halliwell who answered.

'His breath smelt, but he was steady enough on his feet, and he could write his name. He wasn't so drunk that he didn't know what he was doing.'

'Did you read what was written on the paper?'

'No sir. It wasn't my business to read it and I didn't.' 'How was it written?'

,Apparently with Sir Paul's fountain pen. I-Ie used the

pen to sign his name and then handed it to me and to thc tramp- When we had signed, he blotted the paper. Then the tramp went out through the door to the right of the fireplace and Lady Ursula and I left. Sir Paul stayed in the vestry. He didn't see us to the door. Lady Ursula then said that she would like to be taken for a drive before returning home. We drove to Parliament Hill Fields and then to Hampstead Heath. She sat in the car on the edge of the heath for about twenty minutes. Then I drove her

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home and we arrived back about half past nine. Lady Ursula asked me to drop her at the front door so that she could enter the house unobserved. She told me to park the car in Campden Hill Square and I did so.'

So they had been able to leave and return unobserved. And she had asked for her supper to be brought up on a tray, the thermos of soup, the smoked salmon. No one would disturb her until Miss Matlock came to put her to bed.

He said to Halliwell:

'After you had signed that paper, did Sir Paul say any-thing?'

Halliwell looked at Lady Ursula but, this time, he got no help. Dalgliesh asked again:

'Did he say anything, to you, to Harry Mack, to his mother?'

'Harry wasn't there. Like I said, he signed and stumbled off. Not much of a man, I'd say, for company or conversa-tion. Sir Paul did speak, to her Ladyship. Only the three words. He said: "Look after him."'

Dalgliesh looked across at Lady Ursula. She was sitting very still, her hands in her lap, looking out across the room beyond the green tapestry of the trees to some imagined future, and he thought he saw the trace of a smile on her lips. He turned again to Halliwell:

'So you now admit that you lied when I asked if a car or the bicycle could have been taken out that night? You

lied about being in your flat the whole of that evening?' Halliwell said, calmly: 'Yes sir, I lied.'

Lady Ursula broke in:

'I asked him to lie. What had happened between me and my son in that vestry wasn't relevant to his death, whether or not he killed himself. It seemed to me im-portant that you should spend your time and effort finding his killer, not meddling in the private affairs of the family. My son was alive when I left him. I asked Halliwell to say nothing about our visit. He is a man accustomed to obeying orders.'

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Halliwell said:

'Some orders, my Lady.'

He looked across at her and gave her a grim fleeting sn file. She answered his glance with a small self-satisfied nod. It seemed to Dalgliesh that they were for a moment oblivious of anyone else in the room, united in their private con-spiratorial world which had its own compulsions. They stood together now as they had from the first. And he had no doubt what it was that bound them. Hugo Berowne had been his commanding officer; she was Sir Hugo's mother. He would have done a great deal more than lie for her.

They had almost forgotten Barbara Berowne. But now she sprang up from the table and almost threw herself at Dalgliesh. The pink fingers scrabbled at his jacket. The spurious sophistication dropped away and he was being clutched by a frightened child. She cried:

'It isn't true, he didn't do it! Dic�o didn't leave the house. Can't you see? Mattie is jealous because he never really cared for her. How could he? Look at her. And the family have always hated him, him and me.' She turned to Lady Ursula. 'You never wanted him to marry me. You never thoughf I was good enough for your precious sons, either of them. Well, this house is mine now, and I think it would be better if you left.'

Lady Ursula said quietly:

'I'm afraid it isn't.'

With difficulty she turned and lifted the strap of her handbag from the back of her chair. They watched as the distorted fingers fumbled at the clip. Then she took out a folded sheet of paper. She said:

'What my son signed was his will. You are adequately, but not extravagantly, provided for. This house and the rest of his property is left to me in trust for his unborn child. If that child does not survive, then it comes to me.'

Barbara Berowne had tears brimming her eyes, a frus-trated child. She cried:

'Why did he do it? How did you make him?'

But it was to Dalgliesh that Lady Ursula turned as if it were he who was owed the answer. She said:

'I had gone there to remonstrate with him, to make sure that he knew about the child, knew whether it was his, to ask what he intended. It was the presence of the tramp that gave me the idea. You see, I had the necessary two witnesses. I told him: "If she's carrying your child, 1 want to ensure that he's born safely. I want to safeguard his future. If you should die tonight, she'll inherit every-thing and your child will have Lampart as a stepfather. Is that what you want?" He didn't reply. He sat down at the table. I took a sheet of paper from the top drawer of the desk and placed it in front of him. Without speaking he wrote out the will, just the eight lines. A reasonable annual income for his wife and everything else in trust for the child. He may have wanted to get rid of me; I think he did. He may have been beyond caring; that is possible. He may have taken it for granted that he would be alive to make more formal arrangements next day. Most of us make that assumption. Or he may, somehow, have known that he wouldn't survive the night. But that, of course, is ridiculous.'

Dalgliesh said:

'You lied about speaking to Halliwell later that evening. Once the bodies were discovered you knew that he could be at risk. He would lie at your request. You felt you owed him at least an alibi. And you lied about your son's diary. You knew that it was in this house at six o'clock that evening. You went down to the study and took it from the

desk drawer when the General telephoned.'

She said:

'At my age the memory is bound to be a little de-fective.' She added, with what sounded like grim satisfac-tion: 'I don't think I've ever lied to the police before. My class seldom has the need to. But if we do, then I can assure you that we're quite as ready to and just as good at it, probably better, than other people. But then I don't

think you've ever doubted that.'

Dalgliesh said:

'You were waiting, of course, to see how much we had discovered, to be sure that your grandchild's mother

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wasn't a murderess or the accomplice of a murderer. You knew that you were concealing vital information, in-formation which could have helped your son's butcher to go free. But that wouldn't have mattered, would it? Not if the family line continued, not if your daughter-in-law produced an heir.'

She corrected him gently:

'A legitimate heir. It may not seem very important to you, Commander, but I am over eighty and we have differ-ent priorities. She isn't an intelligent woman, not even an admirable one, but she'll be an adequate mother, I'll see to that. He'll do all right. He'll survive. But to grow up knowing that your mother was her lover's accomplice in the brutal murder of your father, that's not a heritage any child could cope with. I didn't intend that my grandson should have to cope with it. Paul asked me to look after his son. That is what I have been doing. There is a peculiar authority about the last wishes of the recently dead. In

this case they coincided with my own.' 'That is all you care about?' She said:

'I am 82, Commander. The men I have loved are all

dead. What on earth else is left for me to care about?' Dalgliesh said:

'We shall want new statements, of course, from all of you.'

'Naturally, you people always want statements. Aren't you sometimes in danger of believing that everything important in life can be put down in words, signed and admitted in evidence? I suppose that's the attraction of the job. Ail the messy, incomprehensible muddle reduced to words on a sheet of paper, exhibits with tags and numbers. But you're a poet - or were once. You can't

possibly believe that what you deal in is the truth.' Dalgliesh said:

'Dominic Swayne is living here now, isn't he? Do any of you know where he is?' There was no reply. 'Then we shall leave a police officer here until he returns.'

It was then that the telephone began ringing. Barbar:t

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Berowne gave a gasp and glanced from the instrument to Dalgliesh with something very like fear. Lady Ursula and Sarah Berowne ignored it as if neither the room nor any-thing in it was any longer their concern. Massingham moved over to it and lifted the receiver. He gave his name, listened in silence for a couple of minutes during which no one moved, then spoke so quietly that the words were unintelligible and replaced the receiver. Dalgliesh moved over to him. Massingham said very quietly;

'Darren has arrived home, sir. He won't say where he's been and Robins says it's obvious he's hiding something. His mother isn't back yet and no one knows where she is. They're trying her usual pubs and clubs. Two officers are staying with Darren until we pick up Swayne and they've rung the social services to try to contact his supervisor. No

luck there. It's after office hours.'

'And Swayne?'

'No trace yet. That designer he shared a flat with says that he looked in at Shepherd's Bush earlier to collect his

gear. Said he was off to Edinburgh.'

'Edinburgh?'

'He has friends there, apparently, people he met when he was doing a fringe show at this year's festival. Robins is in touch with Edinburgh. They may be able to pull him off the train.'

'If he took it.'

He walked over to Evelyn Matlock. She lifted to him a face devastated by grief and he saw in her eyes something so like trust that it turned his heart over. He said:

'He used your affection for him to make you lie for him; that was a betrayal. But what he felt for you and what

felt for him is your business and his, no one else's, and :no one but you can know the truth about it.'

She said, looking up at him, willing him to understand: 'He did need me. He never had anyone else. It was

It was love.'

liesh didn't reply.

Then she said in a voice so low that he could hardly

the words:

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'He did take a box of matches with him when he left. I wouldn't have known only the electric kettle in the kitchen was broken. Halliwell was mending it for me. I had to light the gas with a match and I needed a new box. The one by the stove was missing.'

She began to cry again, but now almost soundlessly, a stream of silent tears washing down her face as if she wept out of a weariness and hopelessness that had gone beyond pain.