Deadline for Murder (20 page)

"Look, Cordelia. I was hired to do a job and quite frankly, I don't give a damn what you think of how I've done it," Lindsay snapped angrily. "But I intend to finish it in my own way whether you shut up and let me get on with it or not. Now, I'd like to return to Ruth and Antonis. Ruth too had a perfect motive for murder. Her best friend was sleeping with her husband, whom she loves with a blind passion. I think all her anger would have been directed at Alison, a woman who had betrayed her in such a cavalier fashion. I suspect she exonerated Antonis, because she knew only too well how good Alison was at getting what she wanted. Ruth was in the building on the afternoon of the murder. We have only her word for when she actually left. Haven't we, Ruth?"

Lindsay stared at Ruth, who was gazing at Lindsay with the horrified stare of the rabbit transfixed by the stoat. Relentlessly, Lindsay continued. "You haven't really got an alibi, have you?"

Ruth swallowed hard then croaked, "Yes, yes I have. I phoned one of my clients at six o'clock, and he rang me back ten minutes later. I was at my gallery, I was... You've got to believe me!" Her voice broke on a note of rising hysteria.

"It's not much of an alibi, is it? It only takes five minutes to get from Caird House to your gallery, after all," Lindsay said coldly. "You could easily have killed Alison, phoned your client from her flat then raced off to the gallery to receive the phone call you hoped would give you an alibi." Ruth stared at her in mute horror, her hands gripped so tight on her glass that her knuckles showed white.

Lindsay paused to light a cigarette then continued, aware that her audience was hanging tensely on her every word. "Up until yesterday, this was all I had. A collection of suspects with no hard evidence against any of them. The only evidence that might tie any one of them to the murder was half a thumbprint on a glass. But short of secretly obtaining fingerprints from them all, I was stuck. Then, as a result of inquiries into a completely separate matter, I found someone who can crack this case wide open. I found a witness. I found the one person who saw Alison Maxwell's murderer leave the flat, a good ten minutes after Jackie Mitchell." Lindsay looked round at her audience. Claire looked stunned, Cordelia sat up straight, and Ruth was frozen with fear.

Lindsay walked across the room to the door. "His name is Alex, and he's a rent boy. That's why he didn't go to the police at the time. He thought that no one would believe his story, because the police were convinced they already had the killer. He didn't want to get himself into trouble, so he kept his head down. But there's no doubt about it. Alex was in Caird House visiting a client on the afternoon of the murder. He left his lover's flat just after the six o'clock news started on the radio, and he saw Alison Maxwell's killer. If you'll all wait here, I'll just go and get him."

She opened the door and called, "Sophie? Can you bring Alex through?" Lindsay turned back to the room as Sophie walked in with Alex behind her. He looked slightly apprehensive but excited.

Lindsay ushered him forward. "Alex, I want you to look very carefully at the people in this room. If you can see the person whom you saw leaving Alison Maxwell's flat on the evening of the murder, I want you to point to him or her. Take your time, now. I want you to be sure. Okay?" Convinced that he was going to point to Ruth, Lindsay watched him carefully.

He nodded. Slowly, his eyes travelled from face to anxious face. Then, almost in slow motion, his arm came up and pointed to Cordelia. "That's her," he said. "I'd swear it. I'd know her anywhere."

A shocked silence greeted Alex's pronouncement. Lindsay stared at him in utter bewilderment, unable to believe her eyes. Then she turned wildly to look at everyone else. Ruth looked as if she would faint, and Claire's mouth fell open. Jim Carstairs had leapt to his feet, while Antonis finally lifted his head out of his hands. Cordelia went white, then scarlet. She broke the silence with a peal of laughter, which echoed round the room.

"Oh Lindsay," she eventually gasped. "You've really done it this time."

Claire found her voice. "This is the last straw," she hissed. "You're fired. You've turned this whole business into a circus." She got to her feet. "Come on, Cordelia. I've heard enough to know that this inquiry is a complete farce from start to finish."

"No, wait a minute," Cordelia protested, a laugh bubbling in her voice. "I want to hear how Lindsay explains all this. Lindsay, come on. Tell me how your surprise witness identifies me as the murderer of a woman I'd never even met. I'm dying to hear this, Claire."

Humiliated, Lindsay somehow found her voice. "I can't explain it. There must be some mistake."

Alex, unaware of the undercurrents in the scene before him, chose that moment to butt in. "It was her, I'm telling you, she's the one I saw coming out of the flat that night. I swear it."

Claire strode across the room and towered over his slight frame. "I don't know who the hell you are, you lying little shit. But if you say that once more, I'll sue you for defamation so fast your feet won't hit the ground." She rounded on Lindsay. "I don't know what you think you're playing at, but it had better stop right now. You've lost her, Lindsay, and no amount of ridiculous grandstanding will make an ounce of difference to that." Lindsay listened in silence, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her. She couldn't understand what had gone wrong. All she knew was that she had made an utter fool of herself. She struggled for words, but before she could find anything suitable to say, Cordelia interjected.

"Calm down, Claire," Cordelia said. "Come on, let's go home."

"I want her to apologise to you," Claire replied obstinately. "She's accused you of murder, for God's sake. Surely you're not going to calmly walk away as if nothing had happened?"

Cordelia shrugged. "We all know how completely stupid Lindsay's accusations are. And we all know why she's making a fool of herself this way. I think we should feel pity rather than anger. Come on, Claire." She crossed the room and took Claire's arm, steering her towards the door. Alex dodged out of her reach in a swift movement. On her way out, Cordelia turned to Sophie and said, "You're a doctor, Sophie. Maybe you should get her some treatment." Then they were gone. In the stunned silence following their departure, Jim Carstairs moved uncertainly towards the door.

"I'm sorry this has turned out so badly," he said. "I honestly don't know what can be salvaged, but I'd be obliged if you'd call at my office tomorrow morning. Perhaps you could bring the original of Alison's diary."

Lindsay nodded dumbly. As Jim left the room, Antonis was suddenly galvanised into action. He jumped to his feet and followed him, calling, "Wait, Mr. Carstairs. I want your advice about these lies we have heard tonight." He slammed the door behind him, and the muffled sound of their voices could be heard. Sophie put her arms round Lindsay and tried to hug her rigid form.

"What a fucking carry-on," Alex complained. "I need a drink." He walked over to the tray and poured himself a brandy and dry ginger.

In her dazed state, Lindsay vaguely registered that Ruth was shaking with silent sobs on the sofa. She pulled away from Sophie and sat down beside Ruth. "I'm really sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Ruth gulped and stammered, "It... it's all right. I knew... I knew anyway. I've known for months. It's just..."

"Just what?" Lindsay asked gently.

Then it all poured out. "I was so afraid when you brought that boy in. I was sure... I was so sure he'd point to me!" Ruth gasped brokenly.

"But why? Why would he point to you? You were in the gallery, weren't you?" Sophie cut in.

Ruth shook her head. "No. I knew about Alison and Antonis, you see. I kept thinking it would stop, that she'd get rid of him when she'd had her fun. Like she usually did. But it kept on. I wanted to tell her to stop. So I waited till I knew she was on her own. After I heard her and Jackie quarrelling, I waited till I heard the door of her flat slam. Then I ran straight down and let myself in. I had a key, you see. And... I found her. Lying there." A fresh burst of sobbing overtook Ruth.

Lindsay put her arm round her and stroked her back. "She was dead already?"

Ruth nodded. She pulled herself together and carried on with her story. "It must have been the murderer who slammed the door, not Jackie. Anyway, I panicked. I just ran. I didn't even close the door behind me. All I could think of was to get out of there as fast as I could. I knew that the police would think I'd done it. I... I had such a good motive, you see."

"So you ran away? You went to the gallery?" Lindsay asked.

Ruth nodded. "I took the lift to the underground garage. I stopped at the first phone box I came to and called one of my clients. I pretended I had been interrupted and asked him to call me back in ten minutes. Then I drove to the gallery and got there in time to take the call." As she reached the end of her tale, Ruth collapsed in a heap against Lindsay, as if telling the story had drained her of all her strength and energy.

Lindsay desperately wanted to ask Ruth more, but before she could, the door burst open and Antonis stalked in. "Come on, Ruth," he barked. "Let's get out of here." He pulled her to her feet and almost carried her out of the room. "You lying bitch," he called back at Lindsay. "You will hear from my lawyers about this."

Alex carried on leaning against the wall, shaking his head in silent amusement. "You sure know how to lay on a good cabaret," he said.

"Shut up," said Sophie. "You've made her look a complete fool. So just shut up."

Alex looked hurt. "Wait a minute," he protested. "I didn't ask to come here. She brought me here. I was doing her a favour."

"Some favour," Lindsay sighed, getting to her feet. "I thought you said you'd know the woman again, anywhere?"

He nodded vigorously. "It was her. Why would I make it up? Christ, all I had to do was say I didn't see the woman here," he whined. "It was her, I'm telling you. I was nearly shitting myself when I saw her. It's not my fault if you couldn't nail her."

Lindsay walked over to the drinks table, feeling as if she were wading through treacle. She'd never felt worse in her entire life. "Fuck off, Alex," she stated blankly. "Just fuck off."

He shrugged away from the wall. "Please yourself," he muttered. "Where's my money?"

"Give him his bloody money, would you, Sophie? It's in my briefcase under the bed in the spare room."

"I'll be right back," Sophie said, indicating to Alex that he should follow her. They left, and Lindsay slumped into an armchair.

She felt like she'd been hit on the back of the neck with a sandbag. How could she have been stupid enough to trust Alex? He'd assumed that anyone in the room apart from Sophie must be a suspect and saw the prospect of earning himself a few quid by falsely testifying. Unfortunately for him, he'd picked the one person who had no reason at all for killing Alison Maxwell. Lindsay wished she were anywhere in the world but here.

A few minutes later, Sophie returned. She went straight to Lindsay and cradled her head in her arms. "He's gone," she whispered. "Poor Lindsay."

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, then Lindsay sighed. "I feel such a complete jerk."

"I know. There was no way you could have predicted that he'd do that. He seemed so plausible."

"I know. I was so sure he was telling the truth. It crossed my mind that he might be blackmailing Harry over the murder, and that he was saying it was a woman so his little racket could carry on. But after I'd seen Harry's performance when he handed over the money, I gave up that idea. Neither of them behaved as if there was a hidden agenda. And I didn't think Alex was a good enough actor to con me like that. How wrong can you get?"

"But I was sure he was telling the truth, just like you. Then when he pointed to Cordelia like that. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry," Sophie sympathised.

Lindsay got to her feet and started pacing the floor. "I just can't believe it's all gone so wrong," she said. "I was positive that Alex would give us what we needed. How could I have been such a bloody fool?"

"Stop beating yourself up, Lindsay. You did what you thought was the right thing. It's not your fault that it went wrong."

"Who's fault is it, then? I had to go for the grand gesture, instead of being sensible about it. I should just have taken him along to Jim Carstairs and let him loose on a pile of mug shots. But oh no, I had to be the big shot. And look at me now. Everybody thinks I did it to get even with Cordelia, and they couldn't be more wrong," Lindsay ranted.

"I know that, and you know that. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, does it?" Sophie consoled her.

"In theory, no, but in practice, yes. But you know what pisses me off almost as much as that?"

Sophie shook her head. "Tell me," she said.

"The fact that I won't be able to finish what I started. I desperately wanted to get Jackie off the hook. But you heard Claire. I'm fired. No one's going to give me an ounce of cooperation now, are they? And I was so close, Sophie," Lindsay complained.

"Yes, but it's not all over," Sophie said. "You've got all the information you were ever going to get via official channels like Jim and Claire and Jackie and Mrs. Maxwell. And there's nothing to stop you ferreting away at that. You can still find out the truth if you really want to."

"Oh yes? And who's going to believe a word I say after that fiasco?" Lindsay objected.

"Well, Jim Carstairs seems to think that all is not lost," Sophie replied. "All he's really interested in is his client, you know. I don't think he's too bothered about whose toes you might have stepped on."

"Maybe."

"Look, I've got an idea. You brought all that stuff back from Mrs. Maxwell's yesterday. Why don't you put everything that happened tonight on the back burner for now and go through all Alison's papers? You said yourself that if it hadn't been for the advent of Alex, the final solution might have been there. Why not give it a try? You could go through all the papers, and I'll have a look at what she's got stored on computer disc," Sophie encouraged.

Lindsay shrugged. "I don't know. I think I just want to forget all about it. I'd rather get pissed out of my brains."

"It'll still be there in the morning," Sophie said persuasively. She knew Lindsay well enough to realise that the best way to get her to forget the disaster of the evening was to give her something demanding to focus on. "And it'll look much worse through the eyes of a hangover. Come on, humour me. Let's give it a go."

"If you insist," Lindsay agreed reluctantly.

Sophie got to her feet and grabbed Lindsay's hand. "Come on, then, let's go." She leaned over to kiss her. "It's not the end of the world, you know. I still think you're very special."