Murder... Now and Then (43 page)

‘Quite,' said the inspector. ‘The fact is that Victor Holyoak was both ruthless and vicious, if only half of what we've been told is true. And he had no time for justice. So what did he have in mind for you, Mr Scott? Or did you decide not to wait to find out?'

‘Oh,' said Max. ‘So that's what you think I was doing, is it? Killing my wife's stepfather?'

‘His death could have considerable advantages,' said Inspector Hill.

Max looked up, puzzled, as was Catherine.

‘Who inherits your stepfather's wealth, Mrs Scott?' she asked.

Max's jaw dropped, but Catherine sighed with sheer relief. ‘I think it goes to various charities,' she said. ‘ I disqualified myself by marrying Max, and he only provided life care for my mother, not money.'

The inspector frowned.

‘I was the beneficiary only on condition that I remained unmarried.'

‘Why?'

‘He thought I had family obligations that marriage would interfere with. I married Max as soon as I possibly could.' She looked at Max, who wasn't looking at her. He was staring down at his feet. ‘He nearly turned me down,' she said. ‘He said I was too young to know my own mind – but I knew one thing if I knew nothing else. That I could get out from under – I could stop myself being sucked into his … his madness, like my mother had.'

Inspector Hill looked at Max, and then at her. Catherine went on.

‘You read about dictators,' she said. ‘They wipe out the opposition, people disappear if they disagree with them – they use fear to control people.' She glanced at Max. ‘Not all power-mad dictators have countries to play with,' she said. ‘ My stepfather didn't have the good fortune to be born in Latin America – but it's the same mentality. It's madness. Megalomania. Whatever. Marrying Max without his consent would put me beyond the pale as far as he was concerned, and the further beyond it I could get the better.'

‘Did you know that?' the inspector asked Max, when Catherine's speech was over.

Max looked up then. ‘I didn't know why Catherine was so keen to marry me,' he said, with a half-smile. ‘And I didn't know that Victor Holyoak was her stepfather until Tuesday. Believe me, how much money she was going to be worth when he died was not uppermost in my mind. I simply couldn't understand why she hadn't told me. And then when I saw him I realized why, of course. Catherine had lied to me – I got very angry, and I did something I'm very ashamed of. I just … flipped, I suppose.'

He looked at the inspector. ‘ But I spent that two and a half hours waiting outside Anna's flat,' he said. ‘I didn't continue my assault on my wife, I didn't kill my stepfather-in-law – I just waited for Anna to come home. It's the truth.'

They had to believe him, Catherine thought. This time they had to believe him.

Judy arrived back to discover that Bannister had been bailed, and that as a consequence, Anna had resolutely refused to leave the station, demanding that they give her protection.

Lloyd had gone, so she was lumbered. The duty inspector was adamant that he had no men to spare to sit parked outside a flat all night because of some neurotic female.

Why, Judy wondered, was the word female used as an insult? Finch was packing up his desk; she smiled at him. ‘Job for you, Tom,' she said.

His face fell. ‘It's Friday night,' he said. ‘My wife's forgotten what I look like – I promised to take her to the pictures.'

Judy looked at her watch. ‘You'll be in time for the second house if you get a move on,' she said. ‘We have to get Anna Worthing home.'

He slammed his drawer shut. ‘Bannister isn't going to go anywhere near her,' he said. ‘Ma'am,' he added, hurriedly. ‘ He's just glad he's not being charged with murder – he's on bail. He won't jeopardize that.'

‘And she won't go home unless she has protection,' said Judy. ‘We can't give her that, but at least we can see that she's inside with the door firmly locked.'

He muttered and grumbled, but eventually she and Anna were drawing up in the vehicle access area, with Finch's car behind them.

Finch got out, pointing over to the Porsche, which still sat at an angle to the garage. ‘You'd better put that away before some joyrider takes it,' he said.

‘It's not mine,' she said. ‘They can take it if they like'

‘It's our job to make sure they're not tempted,' he said, having obviously read the directive from above that had been distributed as a result of the conference. ‘ Put it away.'

‘I'm not going into that garage – he might be waiting for me.'

‘Give me the keys then!' Finch shouted, and she went into her bag, throwing him the keys.

Angrily, he got into the car, putting it in gear and swinging it into the garage with the same ease that Lloyd always exhibited. Judy admired those who could make cars bend to their will.

‘Is that where you left it on Wednesday night?' she asked Anna.

‘Yes.'

Judy was glad she didn't have the garage next door to Anna's neighbour, who tried to get people out of bed to move cars that weren't blocking his garage at all. If he simply disliked bad parking, she'd never get a wink of sleep.

Finch came out, slammed the door shut, and gave Anna back the keys. ‘Let's get on with this,' he said.

Anna led the way up to her flat; as she turned on to the top landing, with Judy and Tom Finch a few steps behind, she was suddenly pushed by an unseen hand and fell backwards against the wall, falling to the floor.

‘You set me up, you little whore!' Bannister appeared, aiming a vicious kick at Anna as she scrambled beyond his reach, into the corner, where she hid her head, like a child.

Finch was at the top of the stairs in what seemed like one jump. ‘Do you have business here?' he enquired, making Bannister whirl round on one foot, the other poised to deliver a blow.

‘And you can keep your nose out, whoever you are!' he shouted, trying to land a punch while still off balance.

Finch moved too fast for Bannister; the punch went wide, and Finch caught his outstretched arm, pushing it up behind his back, as he pinned him against the door of Anna's flat. ‘I understood that your innards couldn't take any more punishment,' he said, taking out his card. ‘So don't get into fights. Finch, Detective Sergeant.'

He held on to Bannister as he spoke to Anna. ‘Do you want this man prosecuted?' he asked.

He was choosing to regard it as a domestic; on the whole, Judy thought that might be the right approach, if they didn't want to add to Bannister's list of grievances against Anna. She tried to unwind her from the ball into which she had rolled. ‘Anna?' she said. ‘It's all right. He can't hurt you now.'

She turned to look at Judy, but she was still in the foetal position.

‘Do you want us to charge him?' Judy asked, her voice gentle.

Anna shook her head.

Finch let him go. ‘You're lucky,' he said. ‘Go home to your wife and kids. And remember – you're still not off the hook for murder. But Anna is. She didn't set you up, Bannister.'

Bannister looked helplessly at Judy, and jerked his thumb at Anna. ‘She ruined my life,' he said.

‘Sergeant Finch,' Judy said. ‘See him on to his train.'

‘Yes, ma'am.'

Judy knew that there would be baby-sitters to cancel, and a peeved wife for him to go home to, but that was sometimes the way it went. Bannister had to be removed from Anna's vicinity, and it needed someone like Finch to do the removing. Her inadequacy in that regard would please Bannister, if nothing else did.

She finally got the distressed Anna into her flat, arranged with a now more co-operative duty inspector for an eye to be kept on her, and went home herself, pulling into the kerb in front of the fruit and veg shop. She would be glad to get in, get her shoes off, and put her feet up. A knocking made her look up; Lloyd was at the flat window, waving down to her. She wondered which discreet parking space he'd found this time, and smiled. He hardly ever came to her flat; she thought he felt as though he was sanctioning the set-up, which wasn't how he wanted it.

She was barely inside the door when he caught her in his arms and kissed her soundly. ‘I love you,' he said.

‘That's nice to know,' she said, taking off her coat and sinking down on to the sofa, kicking off her shoes, and groaning with relief. ‘But what's brought it on?'

He flopped down beside her. ‘Anna Worthing,' he said. ‘Zelda Driver. Geraldine Rule.' He kissed her again. ‘ I'm very glad you're you.' He looked at her from under his eyebrows. ‘You don't seriously believe that I fancy Anna Worthing, do you?' he asked.

Judy's smile grew broader. ‘You like her,' she said.

‘I like Zelda – doesn't mean I fancy her.'

‘It's different with Anna,' she said. ‘She brings out the protective instinct in you.'

He sat back a little. ‘ Yes,' he admitted. ‘I suppose she does.' He patted his knee, and Judy swung her legs up for him to massage her feet. ‘You shouldn't wear these shoes if they hurt,' he said.

‘I know. But they go really well with this outfit.'

He smiled. ‘You'll have to take off your tights if you want me to do it properly,' he said.

She complied. ‘ So what is it about Anna?' she asked, as he brought her feet back to life.

‘Well – we know why he took her to Holland, now, don't we? Holyoak swopped cars and ID with Wilkes, and killed Tarrant, making sure the car was spotted. They switched back, and Holyoak killed Wilkes, because he couldn't be trusted to keep his mouth shut. But he thought the suicide would be investigated, and that they would be bound to wonder why a known homosexual was visiting a female prostitute, and question her. Taking her with him was simply less risky than doing away with her too.' He looked at her. ‘And he put her to work,' he said. ‘All the trappings were window dressing. But she still thinks he was doing her a favour.'

Judy nodded.

He gave a short sigh, and thought before he spoke again. ‘But she's bright, Judy. Really bright. And attractive. She virtually sold herself into slavery – why would she do that? And she's terrified people are going to hurt her – why?'

‘Because they have. Finch just stopped Bannister giving her what he would doubtless call a good kicking.'

Lloyd looked upset. ‘What sort of background does she come from? How did she get like that – how did she get so that everyone could push her around? She's got spirit, if she could find it two days running without recourse to the alcoholic sort. But it got broken, didn't it? When she was a child, before she went on the game. And I've no doubt she comes from a broken home.'

‘Oh, Lloyd.' Now she understood. She put her arms round him. ‘Lloyd – there are broken homes and broken homes. Parents separating doesn't equal a broken home anywhere but in statistics.'

He worked on her feet, not looking at her.

Judy carried on. ‘Girls like Linda don't turn out like Anna,' she said. ‘Girls like Anna do. I
do
know Anna's background. You think because she's bright and knows how to put a sentence together that she must come from a good home, with books and discussions and concerned parents, just like Linda. And that when all that fell apart she took it badly, and went running off to London as soon as she was old enough – right?'

He was listening, but he didn't answer.

‘You left Barbara when Linda was almost fifteen – Anna Worthing had been on the streets for two years by then.'

He turned to look at her.

‘She was sent out by her mother. If she didn't go, or didn't bring back enough money, her father took a belt to her – her father, Lloyd. She isn't from a broken home, not in theory, except that she is, of course. She was in and out of care, she ran away, she was brought back, she went to four different foster homes – she ran away from them, she was brought back. She went to a young offenders' place – she absconded, she was brought back – it was endless, until she had reached an age where she could throw off her mother and her father and the social services and do the only thing she knew how to do.'

Lloyd looked a little ashamed of himself. ‘I'm being paranoid,' he said.

‘Just a little. Look – I know Linda wasn't too struck on my idea, but she's thinking about it. And even if she does go it alone, she won't get into trouble. She's
not
from a broken home, Lloyd. She has not just one, but two entirely intact homes to come back to where she'll be welcome and loved. Three, if she counts mine. Anna had nowhere to go but the street.'

He kissed her. ‘I said I was glad you were you,' he said. ‘When did you find all that out?'

‘The night she nearly kicked Bannister's head in,' said Judy.

He smiled. ‘So she did it to you too?'

Yes. And Judy had tried to talk her into getting an ordinary job, going to night-classes, using her brain. ‘ She told me she could earn more in a night than I could in a week,' she said. ‘She was probably right. But she hated it, and Holyoak offered her a mink-lined escape route, so she took it. Holyoak's the one who's given her the education – not her parents.'

‘He gave her an education all right.' Lloyd squeezed Judy's foot with more venom than finesse, making her yelp. ‘Sorry,' he said. ‘I get angry when I think about Holyoak.' He went back to rather gentler massage.

‘And Holyoak's the one who broke her spirit,' Judy added. ‘Even her parents couldn't do that. No wonder someone killed him.'

Lloyd sighed.

Judy knew he didn't like it when she suggested that murder was ever justified, but she was beginning to think that she might have murdered him herself, given half a chance.

‘Let's forget about work,' he said.