Stone Killer (27 page)

‘You're not?'

‘No.'

Judith Maitland sighed wearily. ‘I asked for a meeting with the Governor yesterday morning,' she explained. ‘I said it was urgent, but this place being what it is, I didn't get to see him until just over an hour ago. Once I was in his office, I told him everything.'

‘About what?' Woodend asked.

‘About the murder. I confessed that I had done what I was convicted of – that I had killed Clive Burroughs.'

‘An' did you also explain
why
you killed him?'

‘Yes.'

‘Then explain it to me.'

‘Why should I?'

‘Because I'm askin' you to. An' because you really need to have me on your side.'

Judith Maitland nodded. ‘All right. I killed Clive because he was my lover and—'

‘You always said he wasn't.'

‘I always said I didn't
kill
him. But that wasn't true, either.'

‘Are you sayin' that Mrs Burroughs was right? That you actually carried on this affair of yours with his son Timothy present?'

‘Not always. Sometimes Clive came alone.'

‘But
some
of the time you did?'

‘Yes.'

‘In places like the
zoo
?'

‘Not
in
the zoo, no. When we left the zoo, we'd drive somewhere else. With all the excitement, Timothy would be tired by then, and he'd fall asleep. That's when we'd do it.'

‘In the car? Within touchin' distance of the boy?'

‘Once Timothy was asleep, nothing would disturb him for a good hour. If he was in the front passenger seat, we'd do it in the back. If he was on the back seats, we'd have to manage somehow in the front. Occasionally, if we were in the countryside, we'd get out of the car and go behind some bushes. But we were always close enough to hear him if he woke up.'

‘While you were
doing it
?'

‘That's right.'

‘I'm surprised that a woman from your background would use that phrase,' Woodend said.

‘What phrase?'

‘Doing it!'

‘What would you expect me to say?' Judith asked scornfully. ‘That we were having sexual intercourse?'

‘No,' Woodend told her. ‘What I'd expect you to say was that you were makin' love.'

‘There was no love involved. I
love
my husband.'

‘And yet you betrayed him?'

‘I couldn't help myself.'

‘Why did you kill your lover? Sorry, why did you kill the man you were
doin' it
with?'

‘He said he didn't want to see me any more. I became hysterical. I don't remember reaching for the hammer, but I must have done, because the next thing I knew, it was in my hand and Clive was lying dead on the floor.'

‘What happened to your overall?' Woodend asked.

‘What overall?'

‘The one you always carried in the back of your van.'

‘Oh that. It was covered with blood.'

‘So you were wearin' it when you went into the builders' merchant's, despite what you've said previously?'

‘Yes.'

‘An' despite the fact you were about to meet the man you were havin' an affair with?'

‘Yes.'

‘Funny that. Even if it was purely sexual, I'd have thought you'd have taken some care over your appearance.'

‘Burroughs liked me in my overall. He found it sexy.'

‘Well, there's no accounting for taste. So, because the overall was covered with blood, you got rid of it?'

‘Yes.'

‘How?'

‘I threw it out of the van window on the way to the lay-by where the police found me.'

‘The nightwatchman, who was one of the chief prosecution witnesses, said you weren't carryin' anythin' when you left the buildin'.'

‘He was mistaken.'

‘So you just threw it out of the van?'

‘Yes. That's what I just said. Weren't you listening?'

‘Then why was it never recovered?'

‘I can't answer that. I can only tell you what happened. And now I have told you, I want to speak to my husband.'

‘Why?' Woodend asked.

‘Isn't it obvious? He's holding all those poor people hostage because he believes I'm innocent. Once I tell him myself that he's got it all wrong, he'll let them go. So can you please take me to see him?'

‘Later, maybe,' Woodend said. ‘But first, you're goin' to have to answer a few questions.'

‘For God's sake, time is running out,' Judith Maitland said. ‘And the sooner I can see him, the sooner I can put an end to this whole terrible business.'

‘If he believes you,' Woodend pointed out.

‘Of course he'll believe me! Why wouldn't he?'

‘Because you haven't convinced
me
– an' I don't know you half as well as he does. So let's start again, Mrs Maitland. An' this time, we'll do it properly. This time, you'll tell me the whole truth. Will you agree to that?'

Judith Maitland's shoulders visibly slumped. ‘What choice do I have?' she asked.

‘None at all,' Woodend said. ‘Let's begin with an easy question, shall we? When did you first meet Clive Burroughs?'

‘I've told you that a dozen times! I met him at a reception that I catered in Dunethorpe last year.'

‘Wrong!' Woodend said. ‘I don't know exactly
where
you met, but I do know when. An' it wasn't last year at all. It was
seven
years ago.'

Judith Maitland already had a prison pallor, but now she turned even whiter. ‘You … you …' she began.

‘I know all about the baby, yes,' Woodend said. ‘It's just the details I need you to fill in for me.'

‘I
hadn't had much experience with men when I met Sebastian Courtney-Jones,' Judith Maitland said. ‘He was tall and handsome, kind and attentive, and I suppose he simply swept me off my feet. I knew he was married, of course, but he said that he hardly even spoke to his wife any more, and that as soon as it was possible, he'd divorce her and we could be married.'

‘An' then you got pregnant,' Woodend said.

‘That's right. I was delighted at first. I thought it would do no more than speed our marriage up.'

‘But when you told Courtney-Jones about it, he was somewhat less than thrilled?'

‘He was furious. He said he didn't know how it could have happened. He said I must have tricked him into getting me pregnant. Unless, of course, the baby wasn't really his at all. I couldn't believe he was saying all these things. He didn't sound like my Sebastian at all.'

‘I imagine that he said he'd be willin' to pay to get rid of it,' Woodend guessed.

‘Yes, he did. He assured me it wouldn't be dangerous or unpleasant. Nothing like a back-street abortion, no hot bath and bottle of gin or a knitting needle. The man he'd send me to would be a proper doctor, though, of course, he wasn't allowed to practise any more.'

‘You turned him down?'

‘I had to. I knew I couldn't keep the baby myself – I'd never have coped – but I couldn't bring myself to have him aborted, either. I told Sebastian what I felt, and he said that if that was my attitude, then I was on my own. He wouldn't answer my calls after that, and a couple of weeks later he got his company to transfer him down south. I didn't know what to do.'

And then the man rings her. He has such a pleasant, reassuring voice on the phone.

‘You don't know me,' he says, ‘but I've heard about your difficulties, and I think I might have a solution.'

‘Who told you?' she asks.

‘That doesn't really matter, now does it?' the man answers, so softly, so kindly. ‘Would you like to hear what my solution is?'

Yes, she desperately wants to hear – wants to be told that there is at least some possibility of a light at the end of the tunnel.

‘There are many wonderful couples who desperately want to have children of their own, but can't,' the man says. ‘Your baby would be like a gift from heaven for them.'

‘Why don't they go to an adoption society?' Judith asks suspiciously.

‘You've no idea how long their waiting lists are. And these couples don't want to wait. They want to give the best years of their lives to some lucky child, not leave it until they're too old to play a really important part in that child's growing up. And think of the advantages for you.'

‘What advantages?'

‘If you give your child to an adoption society, you'll have no idea who he's gone to. If you work through me, I'll allow you to meet the prospective parents, and if you don't like them, I'll find you another couple that you
will
like. Besides, these couples so desperately want to have children that they'll be happy to pay all your expenses from now until the child is born.'

‘What's in it for you?' Judith asks.

‘I collect a small fee – just to cover my administrative costs – but that's no concern of yours, because the new parents will pay it.'

‘I agreed to go ahead with it,' Judith Maitland said. ‘It seemed the best thing all round.'

‘Did you meet the couple who were going to take your baby?' Woodend asked.

‘Only the man.'

‘My wife would love to have met you,' Clive Burroughs says, ‘but she's simply not feeling strong enough at the moment. She's so very worried this will all fall through, and she's so set her heart on having a baby.'

And at the time, Judith believes it, because Burroughs seems so kind and so understanding. Later on, she will form a different opinion entirely. She will see how Burroughs likes to control every situation he finds himself in. She will understand that the Burroughses are not so much adopting a baby together as Clive is presenting the baby to his wife as a gift. To keep her quiet. To earn himself credit, so that when his next affair comes to light, she will forgive him again.

But Judith sees none of this now. When Burroughs suggests that she speak to his wife over the phone, she agrees, and Mrs Burroughs sounds like a very nice woman.

Monika Paniatowski's mind was back in Dunethorpe Police Headquarters, looking at the pile of documents which made up Clive Burroughs' personal papers. She'd known at the time that she was missing something important, and now she'd worked out what it was.

‘Was the little girl also adopted?' she asked.

‘No,' Judith Maitland replied. ‘They'd always been told they couldn't have children, but then Mrs Burroughs got pregnant and had Emma. Apparently, it often happens that way.'

Tax forms, driving licences, passports, Paniatowski thought. Fishing permits, insurance policies, club membership cards. Burroughs' whole life had been documented on that desk. There'd been a birth certificate for Emma in that pile, too – but there hadn't been one for Timothy.

‘Was it always planned that Burroughs would spend the entire last month of your pregnancy with you?' Woodend asked.

‘Not as far as I know,' Judith Maitland said.

No one had even suggested it at first. But as the moment of giving birth draws closer and closer, Judith begins to have doubts about the course she has chosen – begins to think that she will keep the baby after all.

She does the decent thing, and tells the man who first contacted her. And he tells Clive. And Clive comes to see her.

‘I know what the problem is,' he says. ‘You're so worried about having this baby on your own that you're really not thinking straight.'

She had not thought that was the problem, but he says it with so much conviction that she begins to believe it well might be.

‘You poor girl,' Burroughs says. ‘Well, I won't let it happen like that. You won't be alone. When it comes close to your time, I'll always be around. In fact, I'll book us a couple of rooms in a nice hotel I know, so that if you need me – at whatever time of day or night – you only have to call.'

She believes that he is doing it for
her,
out of kindness. Later on, of course, she will realize that he did it for himself – because he knows that as long as he is close to her, he can nip in the bud any idea of her keeping the baby.

‘So the baby was born, and Burroughs took him away,' Woodend said. ‘An' then, last year, you unexpectedly met Burroughs again, at an event which you were caterin'.'

‘I'd never even considered the possibility, but the moment I saw him, I recognized him,' Judith Maitland said. ‘And I realized that if he was there, my baby couldn't be far away.'

‘You asked him if you could see your son?'

‘Yes. I only wanted the briefest peek at him, yet I would have understood if Burroughs had said no. But he didn't. He said his wife must never find out, because she wouldn't agree to it, but if I was willing to keep her in the dark, he was quite prepared not only to let me see my child but to actually go out on excursions with him.'

‘That's why you changed your mind about selling up your share of the business and moving around with your husband?'

‘Yes. I'd only just found Timothy again. I simply couldn't bear the thought of going away from him.'

‘Clive Burroughs' offer must have seemed like a dream come true,' Woodend said.

‘It did.'

‘But it was really the start of a nightmare?'

‘Yes.'

‘Burroughs' business was already in trouble, an' when he met you again – an' realized you were a successful caterer – he saw a way out of all his difficulties. But he played it craftily. He let you see your son for almost a year before he put the squeeze on, didn't he?'