Birth Marks (25 page)

‘So, let them wait. I'm in mourning, if you remember. That makes my eccentricity acceptable.'

‘Not to mention your dry handkerchiefs,' he added softly. We both waited for her to respond but she said nothing. After a while he glanced down at the folder on the table. Then up at me. ‘It looks like you've been working. May I?'

I met his eyes: that old mixture of the serious and the mocking. I wondered how far I'd have to go before I hit the granite. I shrugged. ‘You'll have to ask my client.'

And from the way he looked at her it was clear he hadn't had a clue. I already knew they didn't like each other, but even I was surprised at the little darts of hatred now singing through the air between them. She broke the gaze first, but it took a while. He picked up the report. Neither of us moved while he read it. Even the air seemed to freeze. Eventually I stopped watching my fingernails and started watching his face. Now you know what it feels like, buddy, I thought, being the last kid on the block to learn that everyone else knows it too.

He closed the folder and put it down carefully between us. Then he said, ‘Well done, Hannah. It's a lot of work.'

‘I can't take all the credit,' I said. ‘I had help.'

‘Yes, so I see.' He was silent for a moment, then turned to her and smiled. ‘Well, what comes now, Mathilde? You want to call the police straight away or would you prefer to talk about it for a while? Couldn't be better timing. We've got a house full of lawyers. You just tell me what you want and they could have the documents drawn up by the time lunch is served.'

‘Don't be crude, Daniel. You're the one in trouble, remember.' And her voice was ice cold. ‘Why don't you try and save your own skin? Try to convince us that you didn't kill her.'

‘Of course I didn't kill her.' And if she was looking to provoke anger she was disappointed; he sounded almost amused. ‘Neither did Jules or anyone else for that matter. But I wouldn't let that concern you. You've probably still got enough here to put me behind bars for a while. Assuming, of course, you can prove it. But you can always cross that bridge when—or if—you come to it. You know we really shouldn't be wasting time talking. You get this to the police today and it might make the first edition, along with the details of the will.' She glowered at him, but she didn't move. ‘No? Hannah, why don't you persuade her? After all, this is a quest for the truth, isn't it? What's a cut of the Belmont estate put against a righteous hunger for justice? Wasn't that why you employed Hannah? So go for it. You've got nothing to lose. It surely can't matter to you that if I go to jail the money goes with me. It still wouldn't end up in your pocket, however much you might think you deserve it.'

She stood up. It was an abrupt movement. ‘Don't give me this shit, Daniel,' she said between clenched teeth. ‘You're the criminal, not me. I don't have to listen to this.' She held his gaze for a second then turned to me, sweeter now, more like the loving widow. ‘Miss Wolfe, I'm so sorry. Maybe you and I should conclude our business indoors.'

‘Oh, nice one, Mathilde. Except I suspect “Miss Wolfe” isn't that stupid, are you, Hannah? In fact I bet she wants to hear the truth even more than you do. Come to think of it she's probably the only one who does. But then she's also the only one without a vested interest. Sit down, Mathilde, and I'll tell you both what happened that night. Then you can tell me what you're going to do about it. I said sit down.'

My God, but you're lovely when you're angry, I thought. Mathilde was less impressed. But she sat. I could hear my heart in stereo in my ears. Except which one of us was I nervous for—him, her or me? He didn't speak for a while. Maybe he was looking for the right words. When he found them I was reminded of defending counsel addressing the jury, that same kind of intensity, that same apparent, shining sincerity. Except that was the jury's job. To sort out the truth from the rhetoric.

‘I was at the office that Saturday afternoon. I got a call from Jules just before five. The results of the test had just come through and the doctor had told him about the baby. Of course he was upset, and he was also angry. But as much because she hadn't been able to tell him as because of what she'd done. I think it made him realize how frightened of him she must have been, and for that reason he wanted me there when he confronted her. I got here as soon as I could. Nevertheless it was dark by the time I arrived. Agnes let me in. She was in tears. She led me out into the grounds. They were down by the lake. Jules, Maurice and the body. It had been Maurice who had found her. He'd let the dogs out just after dusk. Then heard them barking furiously down by the lake. He hadn't taken any notice for a while, thought it was a rabbit or a shrew. But they kept on and on. He called to them to come in but they wouldn't budge. So he went out to them. They were standing by the edge of the lake, howling at the water. The body was about twenty yards out, caught in the weeds. They must have heard her, thought she was an intruder. It was pitch black and she was off the path. With the dogs on her heels it must have been easy for her to miss her way and fall in. It was bitterly cold that night. By dark the temperature was already well below freezing. I think that would have done it as much as the water.'

He stopped, letting the picture linger in our minds. To his credit he could have milked it more. There were details he could have used to colour the images: those delicate ankles, for instance, swollen by the signs of pre-eclampsia and weakened by operations. How easy it would have been for her to lose her balance and fall panting into dark water and weeds. While I of all people had good reason to remember the terror the dogs could induce, and how panic can make one careless and crazy. I could see it all. But equally I could see something else, a split screen version of another truth: a young girl rendered weak and clumsy by fear as well as a blighted pregnancy, and an old man, stronger than he looked, energized by fury and the need to save his Othello-like ‘reputation', holding her down until that golden hair was matted by slime and there was no life left, either in her or her stomach. In the end believing or not believing Daniel had nothing to do with it. This need not be a case of defence counsel lying, but rather of his client never having told him the truth. And that, of course, was the final irony. Because what was not known now would never be known. The real story, whatever it was, was already being eaten by worms in the Belmont mausoleum. The cunning old war hero had won the final battle. Except he had paid a high price for the silence. Maybe it was nature's way of evening the score. When the monarchy had been restored to power in England in the seventeenth century the government had disinterred the bodies of the king's enemies and had them hung, drawn and quartered anyway, just to show that justice can pursue you even beyond the grave. But that was English law, and they had had proof. I, even after all this time, had nothing but theories. Daniel was watching me carefully.

‘I know what you're thinking, Hannah. And you're right. We'll never know for sure. But you shouldn't let that cloud your judgement. It made absolutely no sense for Jules or anyone else to harm her. All she wanted was a way out. She wasn't threatening blackmail—she had already promised that she would tell no one, she wasn't even asking for anything, just to be allowed to leave. And even if she had been it would have been easier and cleaner to pay her off and get her to a hospital before it was too late. She was a pregnant young woman, a little lost, a little screwed up, but nothing more. Whatever she had done she didn't deserve to die. And whatever anger he might have felt Jules wouldn't, couldn't, have killed her. I told you once, Hannah, that he was a remarkable man. You didn't really believe me. I suspect he had too much money and power for your liking. But that still doesn't make him a murderer.

‘Of course I can't prove to you he didn't kill her any more than you can prove he did. All I can tell you is what happened. When I arrived it was clear we had to do something. Even for Jules the police couldn't have kept it quiet. The scandal would have destroyed him. Him and the company. He asked me for advice and I gave it. And if you're looking for a villain this is where you'll find him. I persuaded him not to go to the authorities, but to let me handle it instead. I told him that not only would the scandal destroy him, but it wouldn't do her any good either. She was dead. Nothing we could do would bring her back. This way she would just be a talented young girl who'd made a mistake and couldn't cope with the consequences. A tragic accident, someone for us all to pity. You know as well as I do that she would never have been treated so generously if the truth had come out.

‘Except Jules couldn't let it rest. If Mathilde were honest she would tell you the same thing. I think he was almost half-waiting to be found out. Or informed upon.' He glanced at her. ‘As it is he did what he could. I don't think he was under any illusions that the money would make any difference. But at least it would keep her name alive. You look puzzled, Hannah. Let me guess? Mathilde hadn't got round to mentioning the details of Jules's will. So you wouldn't know that it includes an anonymous donation to set up a bequest for young dancers. To be named the Carolyn Hamilton bequest. Really quite a lot of money. He asked that Miss Patrick be approached to administer it. I don't know whether or not she'll accept. As I said, nothing he could do could bring her back. But in the end she was already dead. All we did was move the body. It just felt better for everyone that way.'

He stopped. I felt a little like a Roman emperor called upon to decide which Christian the lion would get for dinner. My thumb was itching but I couldn't be sure it would point the right way. I knew what I felt, but I also knew better than to trust it. When it came down to it I was tired of peeling this onion, tired of trying to decide if the tears were real or just a reaction to the spray. Maybe my client held the answer. She, after all, had been the one who was willing to pay to uncover the truth. Except, contrary to cliché, the pursuit of truth is not always the same as the pursuit of justice. And right at this moment she wasn't looking so good. I could see the rage building up in her, but could I also detect apprehension? Having Daniel here with us now had not been part of the plan. She was gathering herself up for an assault when he cut in on her. And for Daniel it was an unexpectedly bitter tone.

‘No, wait a minute, maybe I should rephrase that last thought. It wasn't better for everyone. There was one person who didn't gain anything from hushing it up. I wonder, amid all the stories, did Mathilde ever tell you the one about her and Jules? About how they got together in the first place? No? Shame. It's a deeply romantic little tale. She was seeing another man at the time, quite a passionate affair I gather, but then she just kept having to deliver translations to the boss's office and one day—well, it was fate really, he had to notice her sooner or later. Of course he wasn't entirely stupid. A much older man and a beautiful younger woman. He knew it probably wasn't mutual love at first sight. He also knew what a financial catch he was, particularly since it was clear even then he wasn't going to live very long. But he'd fallen for her and he'd also fallen for the idea of a child. Nevertheless he was persuaded into protecting himself just a little. Before they married he asked her to sign a pre-nuptial settlement. She didn't mention that either? It must have slipped her mind. It said that if they had a child she would inherit a third of his fortune. The other two thirds would be split between myself and the child, with the two of us as equal guardians of his or her portion until he or she came of age. However, if there was no child the bulk of the money would go to me. She would get a small, but not by most people's standards inconsiderable allowance in perpetuity. But it didn't quite work out as she planned. For what I imagine must be the first time in her life her body let her down. Never mind. Jules was still besotted. He came up with an alternative. And this was where Carolyn came in. She was employed to have the baby for both of them and then to disappear. The world would think it belonged to Mathilde and Jules would go along with it. When he died the money would go to her. But if there was no baby, then, alas, we revert to plan B, and Mathilde would become just a well-heeled English translator with fantasies of luxury. Of course when it did go wrong she did have something on her side, something to sell. Information: the sort of story that a newspaper would love to buy. But she was not exactly an innocent bystander herself, and even she didn't have the nerve to try to blackmail her own husband. However, after he'd gone, and if the story could be made juicy enough, then there might be someone willing to pay to keep it quiet. Someone who would by then have a great deal to lose.

‘And that is where you come in, Hannah. You were employed to squeeze some more juice out of the orange. To get Mathilde what she needed. Well, now she's got it. As of an hour ago, with the exception of generous bequests to herself, Agnes and Maurice and a lesser one to the family doctor, Daniel Devieux inherited most of the Belmont fortune.'

He paused for a moment. Beside me I felt Mathilde shaking, but whether with fury or fear it was hard to tell. Certainly if she had anything to say in her own defence now was the time to say it. The silence lingered. Daniel snorted softly. ‘Which, as you can see, brings us neatly back to where we started. So, what do you want to do, Mathilde? Phone the police or talk about what it's worth? Because with this report in your hands it's all up for grabs. You too, Hannah. Don't let yourself be cut out of this. It's your information as well, you earned it. This could be your big chance to get out of security. Don't be squeamish about the morality. Your employer won't be, believe me. As I said, she has an unerring eye for where the money is. I can bear witness to that. Because I was where the money was for a while. Before she walked into Jules's office and saw the light dance up in his eyes. Come on, Mathilde. It never suited you to be the demure wife. Let's start talking.'