And None Shall Sleep (24 page)

But even that was a mistake. At home she felt restless and fidgety, unable to settle all evening. One-handed, she managed to boil the kettle and make coffee, but preparing much of a meal was beyond her.

What would she do with the luxury of a second hand? The plaster had become part of her, its heaviness hardly noticeable; even its bulk felt normal. The flashbacks of lorry wheels spinning towards her were fading. In the excitement of a murder inquiry the accident had receded into the background, but would it emerge as soon as she rode her bike again?

She switched on the television. Luckily there was a lively play on, good enough to distract her from the case. Two glasses of red wine and an hour and a half later she was sleepy enough for bed. But once there she tossed and turned, her thoughts drifting from her own accident to Selkirk's death, then on to the murder of the nurse. At about two a.m. she sat up.

Mike turned up faithfully at eight thirty in the morning and quickly sensed something was on her mind. As soon as she was in the car he challenged her.

‘Come on, what is it?'

‘The Merry Widow,' she said grimly. ‘I keep coming back to her. Why didn't she leave him? Why did she stay? She didn't have to. She was a professional woman and it wasn't as though he shared a close relationship with his son.'

‘Why do
you
think she stayed?'

‘The only reason I've come up with that holds any water is his money. And habit – security. I can't prove it, Mike,' she said, ‘but I can build up a very convincing case against her. The whole thing seemed to fit into place at about two this morning'

He laughed. ‘So a flash of inspiration has solved it?'

Gravely she shook her head. ‘No, just raised a few more observations. She was prepared to tolerate Selkirk until he managed to find himself a mistress – of sorts. She must have thought herself quite safe from that threat at least, but Selkirk managed to surprise her even on that count. She'll have worried she would lose everything. After all those years.'

‘Maybe.' Mike was dubious. ‘But I would have thought she was the sort of woman who'd something a bit cleverer than simply hire a killer to do the job. She could have used poison, fiddled with the car. Something,' he finished lamely.

She shot him an amused glance. ‘And I thought I was the one with a degree in psychology.'

‘OK,' he said. ‘You're the clever inspector while I'm the stupid sergeant.'

She whisked her head towards him, never quite sure how much truth there was behind these seemingly idle jests. His face was expressionless.

‘There are a few more avenues of enquiry that would bear closer scrutiny,' she said steadily.

‘Such as?'

‘The letter, Mike. What was the purpose of it? Could she have sent it? Where the hell is that report?'

‘I'll chase it.' He put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘Don't jump to conclusions.'

‘Well, we do know that after three years it disturbed him enough to bring on a heart attack.'

‘It could have been coincidence.'

‘Come on, Mike.' She didn't even argue the point with him. ‘Then again, what part exactly did Yolande play? Was she an innocent dupe?' She screwed her face up. ‘I can't believe she was so stupid as to have anything to do with the abduction of her patient. But what alternative do we have?'

Mike shrugged.

‘You see, I still fail to cast her in a completely guilty role. She can't have known Selkirk was to be shot.' She turned to face him. ‘Although I can imagine Sheila planning the whole thing, I can't see Yolande being so stupid.' She recalled the earnest, honest face with its clear complexion.

Mike was silent and she watched him overtake a parked car whose door was suddenly flung wide open before she continued. ‘And while I'm about it, Mike, there are other things puzzling me.'

He risked a swift glance at her. ‘Such as?'

‘How did Andy Carter know Selkirk had been forced to kneel before he was shot?'

Mike's profile stiffened.

‘And why is a photograph of Rowena Carter missing?'

Again Mike shrugged. ‘Could mean anything. Maybe it needed new glass or a different frame.'

‘Maybe.'

‘Well, ask them.'

‘I think I might.' She shook her head. ‘Almost a week into the case, Mike, and we still don't know much, do we?'

‘We've got Gallini'

Her face twisted. ‘Pugh's got Gallini and she knew he was responsible almost before she got here. That's not exactly something we can take credit for.'

His face darkened. ‘So where now?'

‘Let's pay a little surprise visit to the Selkirk homestead.'

The Selkirks' drive was jammed with cars. Pritchard's Jaguar was there, Sheila's Peugeot, and Justin's old banger. They threaded between them.

Joanna touched the Jaguar. ‘He's got expensive tastes, hasn't he?' It was the only remark she made.

Mike's rejoinder was crisp. ‘All these cars,' he said. ‘They're having a party. I don't bloody believe it!

‘Call it a reunion of a family.'

The autumn sunshine made the old house glow. The windows caught the light and threw out flames of celebration. The front door stood half open. Mike gave a very soft knock and they walked straight in.

The family was in conference, Pritchard and Sheila sitting together on the sofa, Justin in the corner, Teresa perched on the piano stool and the child sitting in the middle of the floor. It was the child who saw them first. She regarded them gravely but said nothing.

Sheila Selkirk must have caught the movement from the doorway. She whisked her head round, startled.

‘We did knock,' Joanna said pleasantly. ‘You can't have heard us.'

There was a remarkable stillness in the room, a stage tableau where everyone was frozen. Even the child seemed to stop breathing.

Pritchard was the first to come back to life. ‘Now look here ...' He began his bluff.

As usual Sheila Selkirk pulled no punches. ‘Do you know what the total arsehole's done now?' she demanded. Without waiting for a reply she continued. ‘I shall contest, of course.'

Joanna guessed. ‘It wouldn't be anything to do with a will, would it?' It seemed the only means of her husband's exerting any influence over her now.

Sheila Selkirk looked at her suspiciously. ‘You knew?'

‘We hadn't got round to checking it. That was just a wild guess.'

Surprisingly it was Justin who spoke up next, breathing hard down his nostrils. ‘After the devastation of my father's brutal and merciless murder,' he began in his nasal whine, ‘he has hit us,' he said, flinging out his arms, ‘from beyond the grave.'

At the sudden movement the child flinched.

Joanna spoke briskly. ‘Would anyone like to tell me what's happened?'

It was left to Sheila Selkirk. ‘That absolute bastard. You'll never guess where he's left his money.'

Joanna raised her eyebrows.

‘To that po-faced, painted bimbo,' she said, ‘that affected, lying little bitch. If I ever get my hands around her neck. Winding her legs round my husband.'

Mike moved forward. Just for the record, Mrs Selkirk, what would you do when you had your hands around her neck?'

For the first time Sheila Selkirk hesitated, seemed to realize what she was saying. She recovered herself quickly. ‘I shall contest,' she repeated. ‘Even if her father is a bloody solicitor. So am I' She Stared at Joanna. ‘For your information, Inspector, and before you hear it elsewhere, my husband decided to leave his money –
all
of his money – to the Wilde spawn, the woman who masquerades as his mistress.' Her eyes moved around the room, ‘Thank God I have my family,' she said quietly and with surprising dignity.

Right on cue Teresa Selkirk struggled to her feet. She moved towards Sheila, put her arms around her and pressed her cheek against Sheila's face.

Joanna could almost hear the stage direction. This happy family was about as real as the cardboard game. There was a strong scent of manipulation. But who was manipulating whom?

Justin seemed to feel some explanation was necessary. ‘After the awful events and the...' he passed a hand across his brow, ‘simply disgusting conditions my own family was forced to accept,' he said, ‘my mother invited us to come and live with her.'

Sheila nodded. ‘And as soon as the dust has settled,' she gave a fond glance at Pritchard, ‘Tony and I will get married.'

Pritchard stared at the floor.

‘The dust won't settle, Mrs Selkirk,' Joanna took great delight in the tide, ‘until your husband's killer has been brought to justice.'

Sheila Selkirk gave a smug smile. ‘But you already have him, don't you? The Italian?'

‘We have him, Mrs Selkirk,' Mike said. ‘We don't have the person who paid him to murder your husband, and we don't have the person responsible for the murder of Yolande Prince – yet.'

‘Oh, the nurse.' Sheila looked bored.

‘Yes, the nurse,' Joanna echoed.

Something in Sheila's eyes flickered. She swallowed. ‘Look,' she said irritably, ‘you saw the letter Jonathan received that precipitated his heart attack. He'd had them before. It's obvious the whole business was connected with that unfortunate little girl he knocked down.' The family all nodded in agreement.

‘We're certainly pursuing all enquiries,' Joanna said calmly. ‘So, while I'm here, where were you all on Tuesday?'

‘I was here,' Sheila said first, ‘as you well know. I stayed here all bloody day, waiting for news of my husband.' She had great difficulty saying the words.

‘Mr Selkirk?'

‘I was at work. Lots of people saw me.'

‘People like Lou-lou?' Mike was having trouble keeping his face straight.

‘She, and others,' Justin said haughtily. The public school education hadn't been a complete waste of money, then. He could still turn on the autocrat. For the second time Joanna had caught a glimpse of his father in him. It was no prettier a sight this time round.

Teresa flicked a length of cigarette ash into the dish. ‘I was at an ante-natal appointment,' she volunteered quietly, ‘at the hospital.'

'What time was your appointment, Mrs Selkirk?'

‘Eleven o'clock, but you're there all bloody day. Ask any of the midwives.' She ground out her cigarette and gave the police officers a secretive smile.

‘And you, Mr Pritchard?'

‘Golf.' He gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘Round of golf, lunch, another round of golf. Plenty of witnesses.'

Joanna frowned. How the hell did Tony Pritchard make his living?'

‘Why are you asking about Tuesday?' Sheila barked. ‘My husband was dragged from his hospital bed on Monday, in the night.'

‘And the nurse was strangled a couple of hours after talking to us on Tuesday morning,' Mike put in.

Joanna studied the ring of faces. They were waiting and watching. Alert like little foxes who hear the distant baying of hounds. Ready to start running and dodging. Even the child had scrambled to her feet now and was leaning slightly forward as though waiting for the starter's pistol.

The thought flashed through Joanna's mind. They had all wanted Selkirk dead. Everyone in this room had hated him. The question was, had any one of them wanted him dead enough?

Justin Selkirk, with his pale face, bent shoulders, nervous, twitching eyes? Had he been the one to tease his father with that letter?

Joanna's eyes swivelled round to take in the calm, Madonna-like Teresa, her hands still cradling her unborn child. Had she hated her father-in-law enough to arrange for a killer to visit him, showing no pity even after he'd suffered a heart attack?

And Sheila Selkirk, with her strong, confident features, so sure of herself except in the area of her marriage.

Tony Pritchard, a man Joanna suspected of having expensive tastes without the visible means to pay for them?

For sure, none of them would betray the other. There was tangible solidarity in this room that even extended to the child, Lucy, now sitting quietly on the floor, her saucer eyes fixed on Joanna.

She cast around for some wedge to divide the family. Surely that was the answer – to somehow separate their individual self-interest? In desperation she lunged blindly. ‘Did you know Michael Frost?'

‘We didn't know him.' Sheila spoke angrily for all of them. ‘We knew who he was. This is a small town, Inspector Piercy. Bad news travels. The entire Carter case was given full coverage for a second time. His suicide gave rise to yet another avalanche of lurid headlines ... second tragedy and all that.'

She dismissed them with the tilt of her head. ‘We knew the name, nothing more. Certainly not one of us ever met the man' There was not a trace of emotion towards the dead man or his predicament even though her own husband had been indirectly responsible. Joanna would gain nothing here.

She gave up. ‘Well, thank you, all of you,' she said pleasantly. ‘It's been most interesting.'

They sat outside the house for a full five minutes before Mike made his comment. ‘Well, that was a right waste of time, wasn't it?'

‘Really, Mike?' She raised her eyebrows mockingly. ‘I'm surprised at you. We've learned something all right. We've learned where Jonathan Selkirk left his money, haven't we?'

‘And what does that tell us?'

‘Well, it's worth following up at least.'

He started up the engine.

Selkirk & Wilde looked no less prosperous today than it had on their first visit, with its elegant, Georgian façade.

‘It looks about the last place on earth to be investigated by the Fraud Squad,' Mike remarked.

‘Which only proves how deceptive appearances can be.' Joanna pushed open the door.

Apparently the death of one of its partners had not had a detrimental effect on business. A couple were sitting in the foyer facing Samantha.