Authors: P D James
Dauntsey said quietly: 'That was not our intention in going there.'
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'Why did you? I didn't know you used the sailor's Rtorn. I shouldn't have thought it was your choice of watering hole. Altogether too raucous. And I hadn't realized that y, ou and )rdney were drinking pals.'
It was, thought Kate, as if they were suddenly condutg a private war. She heard Frances's soft anguished cry: 'Oh don't, llease don't!'
De Witt said: 'Is your alibi any more reliable, Claudia?'
She turned on him. 'Or yours, come to that. Are you sayin that Frances wouldn't lie for you?'
'She might. I don't know. As it happens she isn't required t' We were together from seven o'clock.'
Claudia said: 'Noticing nothing, seeing nothing, htearing rohing. Totally occupied with each other.' Before de Witt could revl she went on: 'It's odd, isn't it, how momentous events begin with something quite small. If someone hadn't sent that fax Cahcelling Esm6's signing she might not have come back here thai pight, wouldn't have seen what she did see, may not have died.'
Blackie could bear it no longer, their barely concealed anilathy, and now this horror. She leapt up and cried: 'Stop itt, please sOP it! And it isn't true. She killed herself. Mandy found her. Manl) saw. You know she killed herself. The fax has nothing to do with it.'
Claudia said sharply: 'Of course she killed herself.. Any Otef idea is wishful thinking on the part of the police. Why accetpt suicicte when you can go for the more exciting option? And that fax' may havg been the last straw for Esm. Whoever sent it bears a heavy responslblity.'
She was gazing fixedly at Blackie, and the headis of th tthers turned as if Claudia had pulled on an invisible string.
Claudia suddenly said: 'It was you! I thought ,so. It wa0 you, Blackie! You sent it!'
They watched appalled as Blackie's mouth slowely and silently opened. For what seemed minutes rather than seconds she lejd her breath, and then she burst into uncontrollable sobbing. Claudia got up from her seat and took her by the shoulders. For a ssecond ik ltoked as if she were going to shake her.
'And what about the rest of the mischief? What atbout th aJtered proofs, the stolen artwork? Was that you too?'
'No! No, I swear it. Just the fax. Nothing else. Or01y that n' She was so unkind about Mr Pe'verell. She said terrible thijngs. It int true
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he thought I was a nuisance. He cared about me. He relied on me. Oh God, I wish I were dead like him.'
She stumbled to her feet and, still howling, blundered to the door, holding out a hand before her like a blind woman feeling for her way. Frances half rose and de Witt was already on his feet when Claudia grasped his arm.
'For God's sake leave her alone, James. We don't all welcome your
shoulder to cry on. Some of us prefer to bear our own misery.' James flushed and immediately sat down.
Dalgliesh said: 'I think we had better stop now. When Miss Blackett is calmer Inspector Miskin will talk to her.'
De Witt said: 'Congratulations Commander. It was clever of you to get us to do your job for you. It would have been kinder to have questioned Blackie in private but that would have taken longer, wouldn't it, and might have been less successful.'
Dalgliesh said: 'A woman has died and it is my job to discover how and why. I'm afraid that kindness isn't my first priority.'
Frances said, almost in tears, looking across at de Witt: 'Poor Blackie! Oh my God, oh poor Blackie! What are they going to do with her?'
It was Claudia who replied. 'Inspector Miskin will comfort her and then Dalgliesh will grill her. Or, if she's lucky, the other way round. You needn't worry about Blackie. Sending that fax isn't a hanging matter, it isn't even an indictable offence.' She turned violently and spoke to Dauntsey. 'Gabriel, I'm sorry. I'm so terribly sorry. I'm sorry, sorry. I don't know what came over me. My God, we've got to stand together.' When he didn't reply, she said almost beseechingly: `you don't think it was murder, do you? Esm's death, I'm saying. You don't think someone killed her?'
Dauntsey said quietly: 'You've heard the Commander read that message she wrote for us. Did that really sound to you like a suicide note?'
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Mr Winston Johnson was large, black, amiable, apparently unworried by the ambience of a police station and philosophical about losing possible fares by the necessity to call in at Wapping. His voice was a deep attractive bass but its accent was pure Cockney. When Daniel apologized for the need to encroach on his working time he said: 'Don't reckon I've lost much. Picked up a fare wanting Canary Wharf on the way here. A couple of American tourists. Good tippers too. That's why I'm a bit late.'
Daniel passed over a photograph of Esm Carling. Fhis is the fare we're interested in. Thursday night to Innocent Walk. Recognize her?'
Mr Johnson took the photograph in his left hand. q'hat's right. Hailed me at Hammersmith Bridge at about half past six. Said she wanted to be at number ten Innocent Walk by seven-thirty. No problem there. It wasn't going to take the best part of an hour, not unless the traffic was extra bad or we'd had a bomb alert and your
chaps had closed down one of the roads. We made good time.'
'You mean you got there before seven-thirty.'
'Would've done, but she tapped the glass when we got to the Tower and said she didn't want to be early. Asked me to kill time. I asked her where she'd like to go and she said, "Anywhere, so long as we get to Innocent Walk at seven-thirty." So I took her as far as the Isle of Dogs and drove round a bit, then came back down The Highway. It put a few bob on the fare but I reckon that wasn't her worry. Eighteen
pounds in all that cost her, and she gave a tip.'
'How did you approach Innocent Walk?'
'Left off The Highway down Garnet Street, then right off Wapping Wall.'
'Did you see anyone in particular?'
'Anyone in particular? There were one or two chaps around but I
can't say I noticed anyone particular. Watching the road, wasn't I?' 'Did Mrs Carling speak to you on the journey?'
'Only what I told you, that she didn't want to get to Innocent Walk until half past seven, so would I drive around, like.'
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'And you're sure she wanted number ten Innocent Walk, not Innocent House.' 'Number ten is what she asked for and number ten is where I dropped her. By the iron gates at the end of Innocent Passage. Seemed to me she was anxious not to go further down Innocent Walk. She tapped on the window as soon as I turned into it and said that's as far as she wanted.' 'Did you see whether the gate into Innocent Passage was open?' 'It wasn't standing open. That's not to say it was locked.' Daniel asked, knowing what the answer would be but needing to get it on record. 'She didn't mention why she was going to Innocent Walk, whether she was meeting anyone, for example?' qWasn't my business, was it, guv?' 'Maybe not, but fares do chat occasionally.' 'A darned sight too much, some of them. But this one didn't. Just sat there clutching her bloody great shoulder-bag.' Another photograph was passed over. 'This shoulder-bag?' 'Could be. Looks like it. Mind you, I couldn't swear to it.' 'Did the bag look full, as if she was carrying something heavy or bulky?' 'Can't help you there, mate. But I did notice that it was slung round her shoulder and it was large.' 'And you can swear that you drove this woman from Hammersmith to Innocent Walk on Thursday and left her alive at the end of Innocent Passage at seven-thirty?' 'Well I certainly didn't leave her dead. Yes I can swear to that all right. Do you want me to make a statement?' 'You've been very helpful, Mr Johnson. Yes, we'd like a statement. We'll take it next door.' Mr Johnson went out accompanied by the detective constable. Almost immediately the door opened and Sergeant Robbins put his head in. He made no attempt to disguise his excitement. 'Just checking on the river traffic, sir. We've just had a telephone call from the Port of London Authority. It's in reply to that ring I gave them about an hour ago. Their launch, Royal More, was passing Innocent House last night. Their chairman had a private dinner party on board. The meal was at eight and three of his guests were anxious to see Innocent House so they were out on deck. They reckon the time was about twenty to eight. They can swear, sir, that the body wasn't
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suspended then and that they saw no one on the forecourt. And there's another thing, sir. They're adamant that the launch was to the left not to the right of the steps. I mean to the left looking from the river.'
Daniel said slowly: 'Bloody hell! So AD's instinct was right. She was killed in the launch. The killer heard the Port of London Authority boat approaching and kept the body out of sight before he strung her up.'
'But why that side of the railings? Why move the boat?'
'In the hope that we wouldn't realize that that's where she was killed. The last thing he wants is to have scene-of-crime officers crawling over that launch. And there's another thing. He met her inside the wrought-iron gates at the bottom of Innocent Passage. He had a key and was waiting for her, standing in the side doorway. It would be safer to keep to that end of the forecourt as far as possible from Innocent House and number twelve.'
Robbins had thought of an objection. %qasn't it risky moving the launch? Miss Peverell and Mr de Witt might have heard it from her flat. If they had, surely they'd have come down to investigate.'
'They claim they couldn't even hear a taxi unless it was actually driven over the cobbles of Innocent Lane. It's something we can check, of course. If they did hear an engine they probably thought it was any passing launch on the river. They had the curtains drawn,
remember. Of course there's always another possibility.' %qhat's that, sir?' q'hat it was they who moved the launch.'
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It was only just 5-30 on Saturday, normally a busy day, but the shop was locked with the closed notice showing through the glass. Claudia rang the bell at the side and within seconds Declan's figure appeared and the door was unbolted. As soon as she was through he gave a quick look down both sides of the street, then locked the door again behind her.
She said: 'Where's Mr Simon?'
'In hospital. That's where I've been. He's very ill. He thinks it's cancer.'
'What do they say, the people at the hospital?'
'Fhey're going to do some tests. I could see that they think it's serious. I made him call in Dr Cohen - that's his GP - this morning and he said, "For God's sake, why didn't you see me earlier?" Simon knows he isn't going to come out of hospital, he told me. Look, come into the back room, won't you, it'll be more comfortable there.'
He neither kissed her nor touched her.
She thought, he's speaking to me as if I were a customer. Something had happened to him, something more than old Simon's illness. She had never seen him like this before. He seemed to be possessed by a mixture of excitement and terror. His eyes looked almost wild and his skin glistened with sweat. She could smell him, an alien feral smell. She followed him into the conservatory. All three bars of the wall-mounted electric fire were on and the room was very warm. The familiar objects looked strange, diminished, the petty leavings of dead and unregarded lives.
She didn't sit but stood watching him. He seemed unable to keep still, pacing the few yards of free space like a caged animal. He was more formally dressed than usual and the unfamiliar tie and jacket were at odds with his almost manic restlessness, the dishevelled hair. She wondered how long he had been drinking. There was a bottle of wine, two-thirds empty, and a single stained glass among the clutter on one of the tables. Suddenly he stopped the restless pacing and
turned to her, and she saw in his eyes a look of mingled pleading, shame and fear. He said: q'he police have been here. Look Claudia, I had to tell them about Thursday, the night that Gerard died. I had to tell them that you left me at Tower Pier, that we weren't together all the time.' She said: 'Had to? What do you mean, had to?' qThey forced it out of me.' q/Vhat with, thumb-screws and hot pincers? Did Dalgliesh twist your arms and slap your face? Did they take you to Notting Hill nick and punch you up, cleverly leaving no bruises? We know how good they are at that, we watch the TV.' 'Dalgliesh wasn't here. It was that Jew-boy and a sergeant. Claudia, you don't know what it was like. They think that that novelist, Esm Carling, was murdered.' They can't know that.' 'I'm telling you, that's what they think. And they know I had a motive for Gerard's murder.' 'If it was murder.' qnaey knew that I needed cash, that you'd promised to get it for me. We could'ye moored the launch at Innocent House and done it together.' 'Only we didn't.' 'They don't believe that.' 'Did they say that directly, any of it?' 'No, but they didn't need to. I could see what they were thinking.' She said patiently: 'Look, if they seriously suspected you they would have had to question you under caution at a police station and tape record the interview. Is that what they did?' 'Of course not.' qhey didn't invite you to go with them to the station, tell you that you could call a lawyer?' 'Nothing like that. They did say at the end that I must call in at Wapping and make a statement.' 'So what did they really do?' 'Kept on about was I really sure that we'd been together all the time, that you'd driven me back here from Innocent House. How much better it was to tell the truth. The inspector used the words "accessory to murder", I'm sure he did.' 'Are you? I'm not.'
'Anyway, I told them.' She said quietly and through lips that no longer seemed her own: you realize what you've done? If Esm Carling was murdered then probably Gerard was too, and if he was, the same person was responsible for both deaths. It would be too much of a coincidence to have two murderers in one firm. All you've done is to get yourself suspected of two deaths, not one.' He was almost crying. 'But we were together here when Esm died. You came here straight from work. I let you in. We were together the whole evening. We were making love. I told them that.' 'But Mr Simon wasn't here when I arrived, was he? No one saw me but you. So what proof have we?' 'But we were together! We've got an alibi - we both have an alibi!' 'But are the police going to believe it now? You've admitted that you lied about the night of Gerard's death; why shouldn't you be lying again about the night when Esm6 died? You were so anxious to save your own skin that you hadn't the sense to see that you were dropping yourself deeper in the shit.' He turned from her and poured more wine into the glass. He held out the bottle and said: 'Do you want some? I'll get a glass.' 'No thank you.' Again he turned away from her. 'Look,' he said, 'I don't think we ought to see each other again. Not for quite a time anyway. I mean, we oughtn't to be seen together until all this is cleared up.' She said: 'Something else has happened, hasn't it? It's not only the alibi.' It was almost laughable how his face changed. The look of shame and fear gave way to a flush of excitement, a sly satisfaction. How like a child he is, she thought, and wondered what new toy had come within his grasp. But she knew that the contempt she felt was more for herself than for him. He said, willing her to understand: 'There is something else. It's rather good really. It's Simon. He's sent for his solicitor. He's going to make a will leaving me the whole of the business and the property. Well, there's no one else to leave it to, is there? He's got no relations. He knows he'll never get to the sun now, so I might as well have it. He'd rather me than the government.' 'I see,' she said. And she did see. She was no longer necessary. The money she had inherited from Gerard was no longer required. She