Model Murder (25 page)

Kate pondered briefly, but she knew it had to be said. “Your son Robert is dead, sir. He died in a road accident some eighteen months ago.”

“Dead? But ... that cannot be true. Corinne was in regular touch with the boy. In fact ...” He paused. “I could not admit this to you before, but Corinne told me it was to visit Robert that she needed those few days off.”

“My information is undoubtedly correct, sir. We had it only this morning from the French police, who had talked to a close relative of the people who brought the boy up. He was killed in a motor cycle accident.”

The old man looked at her in bewildered appeal. “The French police? How ...”

“I had learned in the course of my investigation, you see, that at one time Corinne Saxon gave birth to a child, and this was being followed up. When the boy was born, Corinne handed him over to a French couple who couldn’t have children of their own. The wife was the sister of a close friend of Corinne’s. Corinne did visit the boy from time to time, and she attended his funeral. So there is no possible question of a mistake. Our enquiries, however, did not bring to light the name of the child’s father. It seems that Corinne had always refused to reveal that.”

Observing the frail old man lying limply in the hospital bed, Kate wondered what he was feeling about Corinne’s deception. And how much did he care about the sudden snatching away of a son he’d never met, of whose very existence he was unaware until quite recently when the son was already dead? How much emotional energy did the admiral have to spare? He had killed a man, and now he himself was dying. What Kate had just told him at least removed the tug at his conscience that dictated he ought to make provision for his unacknowledged son.

“You said that Labrosse was blackmailing you,” she prompted him.

“He ... he had somehow discovered about my affair with Corinne, and about the boy. His demands were quite outrageous. It went much against the grain to give in to a blackmailer, as I am sure you can imagine, but I had so much to lose if Labrosse were allowed to broadcast the facts of my past indiscretion that I was prepared to make a deal with him. Against my better judgment I agreed to let him run the hotel for me for the time being, on generous terms. But Labrosse wasn’t satisfied with that.”

“What exactly did he want from you?”

“He threatened me. He said that if I wanted to ensure that the paternity of Corinne’s son Robert was never revealed, then I was to let him have complete control of the hotel. He demanded a long-term contract giving him full power, and the salary he wanted was beyond all reason.” The admiral sighed deeply. “If only I’d known that Robert was dead, I’d have dismissed the wretched man on the spot.”

“Labrosse knew that your son was dead,” Kate said, not sure if the admiral would have realised this. “He too attended the boy’s funeral. He was related to the couple who brought Robert up, and that’s how Corinne knew him.”

There was pain in the old man’s eyes. “So he and Corinne were in league against me. They set out together to cheat me.”

“I have no evidence to suggest that, sir. I think it’s possible,” she added gently, “that in her own way Corinne was playing straight with you. She needed a good assistant manager for the hotel, and she might have thought that Labrosse could do a first-class job. Despite his criminal activities she might have thought she could control him. The fact that you overheard them quarrelling suggests to me that Corinne might have been having more of a problem with him than she’d anticipated. In my view she applied unfair moral pressure on you to begin with, and she was undoubtedly wrong to mislead you about your son still being alive. But perhaps, once established here, she was genuinely working hard to ensure the success of the hotel.”

Kate’s intention in saying all this was purely to comfort a dying man. To her surprise, though, she found that she believed it—at least partly. Life could be very tough for women in what was still a man’s world; she knew that from her own struggles. Corinne Saxon, too, had managed to build a successful career for herself by putting her assets to good use—in her case, exceptional beauty and vivacious charm. There was nothing to be condemned in that. But like all modelling careers, even the most eminent, Corinne’s had proved short-lived. For some years she had been out of the limelight. To find a niche for herself that brought her an assured income and carried with it an aura of celebrity and glamour must have been very tempting.

Corinne could have argued to herself that Admiral Fortescue was benefiting equally out of their arrangement; she had saved the ancestral home of the Fortescues. Probably, she’d never seen her approach to him as blackmail. She merely had a weapon to wield to gain her end. And the fact that the weapon was a phantom one, that their son was dead, would scarcely have seemed relevant to Corinne. A situation with no losers. Everyone a winner.

Admiral Fortescue said wonderingly, “I need not have killed Labrosse after all. I could just have sent him packing.”

Kate asked, “How did you kill him, sir?”

His eyes held surprise. “But you must already know.”

“I’d like you to tell me.”

“I went to remonstrate with the man, to tell him that what he demanded of me was preposterous. I didn’t intend to kill him. Not, of course, that my intentions matter now.”

“I need to know everything, sir, for the record.”

“Yes, yes. Labrosse had given me an ultimatum. I was to agree to what he asked, or suffer the consequences. I telephoned him in his office yesterday morning and said I wanted to see him, in his room. I chose the hour of my habitual morning bath. Larkin would then be in his own part of the suite, on call if needed, so I was able to slip away without him being aware of it. Labrosse was already there in his room when I arrived. I had the foolish notion that by offering him a sufficient sum of money I could buy him off and rid myself of him once and for all.”

“You just said that you didn’t intend to kill Labrosse when you went to his room. In that case, why the secrecy? Why should it matter if Larkin knew you had left the suite?”

He regarded her helplessly, having no answer.

“I have no wish to harry you, sir,” Kate went on, “but I think you
did
intend to kill Labrosse. As an intelligent man, you must have known that a blackmailer cannot be bought off. He will always return for more.”

The admiral nodded slowly. “Killing him was not a settled plan in my mind, Chief Inspector. But yes, I think you are right. The actual blow I struck was on the spur of the moment, but I am sure I knew in my heart that Labrosse could not be allowed to continue living.”

Premeditated or unpremeditated? Did it really matter? The murderer in this case would never survive to stand trial.

Kate merely said, “Please go on, sir.”

“As I said, I offered Labrosse money for his silence and his immediate departure. He seemed highly entertained by the suggestion, and said that he much preferred his own plan. He told me that he’d prepared a contract he wanted me to sign, and went to his writing table to get it. As he sat down to unlock the drawer his contemptuous manner enraged me. It was as if by turning his back on me like that the man was deliberately taunting me with my powerlessness. I’m afraid I lost all control. I snatched up the candlestick from the mantelpiece and brought it crashing down on his head. Instantly his whole body went limp, and he slithered from the chair down to the floor. I knew that I had killed him. I felt alarm, but no remorse.”

He fell silent, no doubt reliving the horror of those moments.

Kate said, “Please continue. What happened next?”

“I dropped the weapon, instinctively, then I realised that it would bear my fingerprints. So I wiped it clean before discarding it again.”

“What did you wipe it with?” She knew, but she wanted him to say it.

“I used the handkerchief from Labrosse’s breast pocket. I was reluctant to use my own.”

“What did you do with the handkerchief?”

“I took it away with me. You will find it in the kitchen wastebin in my suite.”

“We have already found it, sir. Presumably you also took away the draft contract?”

“Yes, I couldn’t let you discover that in Labrosse’s room. I locked it away in a drawer in my bureau, intending to destroy it later.”

“Did you destroy it?”

“No, it will still be there.”

Kate paused, wondering if she ought to continue. Admiral Fortescue looked almost at death’s door. She guessed that he’d screwed himself up for this confession, and she doubted if he’d find the strength to rally again. Any remaining questions that needed answering had better be asked now.

“Do you still believe that Labrosse killed Corinne Saxon?”

“I do. Is that not what you think, Chief Inspector?”

“What do you suppose his motive would have been?”

He made a scarcely discernable gesture of his hands where they lay limply on the bed cover. “To put into action his plan of obtaining full control of the hotel. He knew that as long as Corinne remained at the helm he would only be a secondary figure. So he disposed of her. I am convinced he was sufficiently ruthless to do that. And even though it was not a matter of raping her first—as you tell me—the way he desecrated her body was unspeakably vile.” His tired eyes became keener. “I can see you do not agree that he killed Corinne.”

“I have reason to think otherwise,” Kate said. “I believe that in blackmailing you Labrosse merely took advantage of a situation that Corinne’s death presented to him.”

“Then who ...”

Kate shook her head. “I can’t answer that yet. I have my suspicions, strong suspicions, but so far I lack sufficient evidence to bring a charge.”

“I hope you find it, I most sincerely hope you find it. Corinne’s murderer must pay for his crime, just as I am paying for mine.” The old man took a juddering breath. “I am so thankful to have confessed the truth to you and removed all suspicion from Larkin. The knowledge that an innocent man might suffer for what was my responsibility would have been a heavy burden to carry with me into eternity.”

“Larkin will almost certainly be charged with complicity in the thefts, sir.”

“Yes, he deserves that. He failed me badly. He has been with me for many years, and I always believed that I could trust him.” His face twisted in a wry grimace. “Who am I to speak of failing a person to whom one owes loyalty and trustworthiness? My son—my firstborn son, Dominic—will doubtless fly over from America as soon as he learns that I am in hospital and severely ill. I should find it difficult to face him in view of what has happened. So it is all to the good that I shall almost certainly be dead before he arrives.”

Douglas Fortescue had decided that the time had come for him to die. It was pointless to try to persuade him to cling to life. He was a man with an iron-strong resolve. Kate returned his gaze directly and steadily.

“Would you like me to stay with you for a while, Admiral?”

“You are a kind woman, Mrs. Maddox, but no. I’d prefer you to leave me now. I want a little time to collect my thoughts and make my mental farewells.” The ghost of a smile again. “To prepare myself to meet my maker.”

Kate rose to her feet. “I’m sorry, sir, for the way things have turned out.”

“No, my dear lady, you have no cause to be sorry. Leave the regrets to me.”

Returning to DHQ and enquiring for Boulter, Kate found that her sergeant was taking a meal break in the canteen, having laid on yet more food for Larkin in the interview room. This concern for the suspect, Kate translated, sprang from the needs of Boulter’s own stomach.

Unfeelingly, she sent for him forthwith.

“I couldn’t get anything more out of Larkin,” he said defensively, “so there didn’t seem any point keeping on at him.” Then, on a note of accusation, because he felt excluded, “How about you? I hear you’ve been talking to Admiral Fortescue at the hospital.”

Kate filled him in, and sheer surprise at this outcome cheered Boulter’s mood.

“My God,” he said, when she came to an end. “I had Larkin tagged for the Labrosse job. He seemed a sure bet. You thought so too, guv, I reckon?”

“So far as I let myself feel sure about anything,” she agreed.
Bloody pompous you must sound, Kate Maddox.
“Anyway, Tim, let’s go and break the good news to Sid Larkin that he’s off the hook on the murder rap. But I think he might still be able to help us make the connection between the two killings.”

“Aren’t you ever going to let-up on that angle, guv? We must have got it right this time ... the old admiral for Labrosse, Berger for Corinne Saxon.”

“Amen, as I remember you saying when you got it wrong before.”

In the interview room, the debris of the meal Larkin had been served was still on the table. Understandably, he hadn’t had much appetite. The PC at the door took the tray away with him as he departed. Kate sat down opposite Larkin. Boulter remained standing.

“Why did you tell me, Larkin, that Admiral Fortescue didn’t leave his suite between ten o’clock and eleven yesterday morning?”

“Well, he didn’t, did he?”

“The admiral has now confessed to the murder of Yves Labrosse, so on that charge you are in the clear. But I believe you are guilty of seriously misleading us. I think you knew that he was absent for a while. Didn’t you?”

“I ... I couldn’t be sure.” Relief had replaced anxiety and Larkin’s sulky confidence was returning. “I told you the truth, you can’t make out any different. I didn’t hear him go out.”

“Now you listen to me,” Boulter cut in roughly. “You’re in a very dicey position, Larkin. Apart from all that thievery you were up to with Labrosse and Kenway, there’s the question of what information you withheld from the police on the matter of Labrosse’s murder. So I advise you to listen very carefully to the chief inspector’s questions, and to give her truthful answers.”

Kate continued, spelling it out, “You knew—or you guessed—that the admiral had left the suite for a short time. Right?”

“Well, I suppose I might have done.”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes, then. I mean, I thought he must have gone out. But I weren’t positive.”