Model Murder (24 page)

Motive? Fortescue believed that Labrosse had murdered Corinne, he had said so vehemently. But if this was his reason for killing Labrosse, then what had been his true relationship with Corinne? He had emphatically denied—and Kate had believed him—that Corinne’s position at Streatfield Park was anything more than that of a partner in the hotel project. But what of the past? Kate had always suspected that the admiral was concealing something. The story about Corinne’s out-of-the-blue approach to him with irresistible ideas for converting his ancestral home into a hotel was ... implausible, to say the least.

Boulter was valiantly carrying on with the questioning, not giving Larkin any respite. But Kate knew that her sergeant was aware of her distraction. With a little jerk of the head she gestured that she wanted a word with him in private.

“Keep up the pressure on Larkin,” she told him, outside the door. “He might reveal something. But I’m going back to Streatfield Park to talk to Admiral Fortescue again.”

He eyed her curiously. “You onto something, guv? D’you reckon the old boy’s been covering for Larkin?”

“No, Tim, that’s not what I’m thinking.”

“Being cagey, aren’t you? Not going to tell me?”

Kate smiled. “Later.”

She drove fast the now familiar route to Streatfield Park, impelled by a growing conviction that she was on the right track. Could Fortescue have found the physical strength to deliver a mortal blow to Labrosse’s head? Yes, just about. And when she’d seen him later, he was like a man who’d expended the last of his energy, both physically and mentally.

But she couldn’t let the admiral shield behind his feeble state of health. There were answers she needed, needed now. There might be an innocent man, possibly even two innocent men, who had to be cleared of suspicion.

As Kate sped up the yew-lined driveway of the hotel, an ambulance passed her heading out. With a sense of foreboding, she braked the car at the hotel entrance and hurried inside.

June Elsted was at the reception desk. She looked shocked and distressed.

“What’s happened?” Kate demanded. “I saw an ambulance just leaving.”

“It’s Admiral Fortescue. He’s had some sort of heart attack. He seems in a pretty bad way.”

“How did it happen? When?”

“Well, I don’t really know. Deidre and I found him collapsed on the floor in his sitting room. That was about twenty minutes ago. He was unconscious. I phoned for an ambulance right away.”

“What made you go along to him?” Kate asked. “Had he called for help?”

“Oh, no. But when Larkin still hadn’t come back by five-thirty we thought we ought to enquire if the admiral needed anything. I phoned his suite, and when there wasn’t any answer we began to get worried. In the end we went along together to check he was all right, and that’s when we found him.”

Kate nodded. “He’s been taken to the Peace Memorial Hospital at Marlingford, I suppose?”

“Yes, that’s right. And he wants to see you, Chief Inspector.”

“Wants to see me? You said he was unconscious.”

“He came to a little before they took him away. And his very first words were to ask for you. He seemed ever so weak, poor man, and the paramedics told him not to talk. But he kept insisting that he must speak to you urgently. I phoned to your office right away, just a minute ago, and they told me you’d gone to Marlingford yourself and that they’d get a message to you.”

“Thanks, June. I’ll go back to Marlingford now and see him.”

The radio was beeping when she got back to her car. Frank Massey. She told him she’d got the message and was heading straight to the hospital.

But, frustratingly, when she arrived there she was informed that she’d have to wait to see Admiral Fortescue as the doctors were with him.

“How long will they be?” she asked, masking her impatience.

“I can’t say,” the staff nurse said briskly. “It might be some time, I’m afraid.”

Kate gritted her teeth. “In that case I’ll go along and visit my aunt who’s a patient in Nightingale Ward. Perhaps you’ll send for me at once if I’m not back before the doctors are through.”

Richard was with her aunt. He immediately vacated the bedside chair for Kate, who sat down and bent forward to kiss Felix. Dammit! She wished desperately that Richard hadn’t been here. He was a complication she could do without just now. When this investigation was all over, as hopefully it soon would be, then perhaps the two of them could get back together without images of Corinne Saxon intruding between them. On Monday night, when she stayed over at Richard’s flat, she had let herself believe that Corinne’s ghost had been laid to rest. But after leaving him, she knew it hadn’t been. And couldn’t be yet.

“How are you feeling now?” she asked Felix.

“Pretty fair. It’s sweet of you to find the time to visit me each day, considering all you’ve got on your plate. I’m not on the critical list any longer.”

After that, how could Kate announce that she was just filling in a few odd minutes? She wished now that she hadn’t been so urgent about being informed the moment it was possible to see Admiral Fortescue.

Richard caught her gaze and held it. “How is the investigation going, Kate?”

“Progressing.”

“You don’t have to be so cagey on my account,” he said bitterly. “This is Wednesday evening, don’t forget, and this week’s
Gazette
is already printed and out on the streets. When you come to read it, by the way, you’ll find it’s a masterpiece of making bloody little seem a bloody lot. Every word is based on the official police handouts. There’s not a whisper that the
Gazette’s
editor gave the chief investigating officer considerable help on the case.”

“So I should hope,” Kate retorted. But his thrust had gone home. She knew it must have sounded as if she didn’t trust Richard with the smallest scrap of confidential information. She did trust him, she trusted him completely, but his personal involvement with Corinne Saxon made her ridiculously edgy.

Felix asked interestedly, “What’s all this about Richard helping you, Kate?”

“Oh, he gave me some information that was useful. A photograph, actually. It provided us with a vital link.”

The door opened and a nurse looked in to summon Kate.

“When Admiral Fortescue heard you were here at the hospital and waiting to see him, Chief Inspector, he was very anxious that you should come at once.”

“Sorry about this, Felix,” Kate said embarrassedly, getting to her feet. “It’s something very important.”

Richard made no attempt in the scathing look he threw her to hide his reproach. Her aunt’s easy acceptance, though, made Kate feel even worse.

“Don’t worry about it, girl. I’ve got Richard to keep me company.”

Never before had Kate seen Admiral Fortescue looking as pale and wraithlike as now. It was nearly impossible to visualise those limp arms of his lifting a heavy silver-gilt candlestick and smashing it down onto Labrosse’s skull. But somehow he had found the strength. She had no doubts at all now.

“Chief Inspector, thank God you are here!” His whispered words scarcely ruffled the overwarm air of the small hospital room. “I have a great deal to tell you, and there isn’t much time left to me.”

Kate drew a chair up close so that she could hear him. “You mustn’t overtax yourself, sir.”

A faint stirring of his fingers brushed her warning aside. “Larkin ... have you arrested him?”

“No. He’s ...” The conventional phrase about helping the police with their enquiries would sound flippant in the circumstances. Kate substituted, “He’s being held to answer further questions.”

The admiral rocked his head from side to side on the pillow, the most vehement gesture he was capable of making in his weakened state.

“Larkin did not kill Labrosse, Chief Inspector. I cannot die in peace if I allow an innocent man to be punished for a crime that I committed.”

“What exactly are you telling me, sir?” asked Kate. She needed to commit him to an unequivocal statement.

“I struck the blow that killed Labrosse.”

Kate didn’t pretend surprise. “Why did you kill him?”

“He was an evil man.”

“You mean, because you believe he killed Corinne Saxon?”

“I do believe that, yes.”

“But you had some other reason for killing him?”

“He was a murderer, a thief, an extortionist, a blackmailer.”

“A blackmailer? He was blackmailing you?”

The tiniest nod of his head, as if he were ashamed.

“On what grounds?” Kate asked.

The admiral said slowly, “He was in possession of knowledge that could bring great distress and embarrassment to me and my family.”

“Will you tell me about it, please?”

“Yes, yes, I shall tell you everything. Everything. I ask of you only that you use no more of this information than is necessary in order to complete your investigation. I shall never be brought to trial, you realise that? I am dying.”

What point was there in murmuring comforting words of hope to a man who had just confessed to murder? Besides, whatever the medical prognosis, Douglas Fortescue had lost the will to live. He wanted to die.

Kate gave him what she could of the promise he had asked for. “I shall respect your confidence, Admiral, as far as it is within my power to do so.”

He closed his eyes slowly, as if in relief. Then he opened them again, and his gaze focused upon Kate’s face.

“You asked me how it came about that Corinne decided to approach me with the suggestion of turning Streatfield Park into a hotel. The explanation I gave you was the truth, but it was not the whole truth. You see, when I met Corinne all those years ago, our friendship was rather more than I admitted to.”

“You and she had an intimate relationship, sir?”

He managed a smile, weak and strained. “That would be putting it mildly. Of course she was many years younger than me, and I was a married man with a son. But ... I’m not attempting to make excuses for what happened, but Corinne was so fresh and lovely. So vivacious. It was a delight just to be in her company. I was completely infatuated with her. Our liaison was very brief, only ten days in all, but unfortunately it resulted in Corinne becoming pregnant.”

His
baby!

“When she became aware of her condition,” the admiral continued, “she somehow found out where I was at the time—the ship had put in to Hong Kong—and she telephoned me from London. She was overwrought, in a very distressed state. She was so very young, poor thing, little more than a child herself, and that added to my feelings of guilt and responsibility. I managed to contrive some leave, and I flew home in order to see her and make plans. It was a most embarrassing situation. It could have ruined my marriage, and my prospects of promotion in the Navy would have been seriously damaged if my wife had sued for divorce on those grounds and the tabloid papers had got hold of the story. In the end, to my great relief, Corinne agreed to accept a sum of money which would cover the cost of an abortion and see her through the difficult time.”

“But she didn’t go ahead with the abortion?”

His tired eyes sharpened. “How did you guess? I returned to Hong Kong and my ship, and I confidently believed that the whole foolish episode was behind me. Years passed and I neither saw nor heard anything from Corinne. Though many was the time I saw her photograph in
Vogue
and other fashion magazines my wife subscribed to, and I thanked heaven that her career had prospered despite the setback of her pregnancy. Corinne was outstandingly lovely as a model, if you remember, and her success was richly deserved.” He closed his eyes and drew several deep breaths, gathering his strength. “You can imagine my astonishment, Chief Inspector, when Corinne wrote to me last autumn, recalling our past association.”

“And telling you that the pregnancy you’d believed to have been terminated had in fact resulted in a child being born?”

“That revelation was made later,” he said, “when Corinne came to visit me.”

“And she used the fact that you’d fathered her child to put pressure on you to agree to her hotel scheme?”

“Not pressure, no, not exactly. Corinne merely informed me that she and I had a son. Robert. She showed me several photographs of the boy at different ages, and the resemblance to myself was very striking. I couldn’t doubt that the child was mine. She assured me that he was being well cared for, by good people, though she wouldn’t say where that was. I could have insisted upon knowing, I suppose, but ... at the time I was in a state of shock, and later it seemed best not to involve myself any more closely. So many years had gone by during which I hadn’t even known of the boy’s existence. My feelings were ambiguous. To some extent I wanted to meet Robert, as any father would. But it was an immensely difficult situation. I already had a son, Chief Inspector, my legitimate son Dominic. The sudden appearance of an unsuspected half-brother would have been very distressful to him and his family. It might also have complicated the inheritance when the time came, and I so dearly wanted Streatfield Park and all it represents to pass in its entirety to Dominic. And in due course of time to my grandson, Winston.”

“Did Corinne explain to you why she had decided against having an abortion?”

“Yes, she did. She told me that when she’d had more time to think about it, she realised that an abortion would be wickedly wrong. And so she went ahead with having the child, despite all the difficulties it would inevitably mean for her. Bravely, she did it on her own without troubling me again and risking a threat to my marriage and my career. I had to feel most grateful to Corinne tor that. When she enthusiastically outlined her scheme for turning Streatfield Park into a hotel, it seemed almost as though I were being given a chance to recompense her for the wrong I’d done her. And by helping Corinne, I would be helping the son I had fathered.”

Anxiety sharpened his gaze. “But now Corinne is dead, and I am about to follow her to the grave. I must make some kind of provision for that boy. May I ask a favour of you, Chief Inspector? When you leave here, will you contact my solicitor and ask him to come and see me without delay? Somehow Robert must be traced, and funds made available to him.”