The Dark Room (22 page)

‘It’s Dean,’ he said carefully.

‘They’re dead, aren’t they?’

There was a short silence. ‘Why did you get me to make the call if you already knew?’

‘But I didn’t,’ she said quietly. ‘I guessed. Oh, God – and I was so hoping I was wrong. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I didn’t know
who else to ask. Who did you speak to?’

‘His father. He was pretty upset.’

She rushed into self-justification. ‘The police came this afternoon and asked me questions about them, but they wouldn’t say why. And I thought, my God, they’re
dead and no one’s telling me.’ She chewed her lower lip. ‘Did Anthony say what happened to them?’

There was another silence. ‘Look, love, half an hour ago I thought you were unconscious, then I find you aren’t. I don’t know what to do. I phoned back because I
promised I would, but let me talk to your doctor in the morning. It’d make me a damn sight happier, it really would.’

‘No,’ she said coldly. ‘Tell me now.’ She thought she heard his nervous finger rattle the receiver rest. ‘And don’t hang up on me, Dean, because I
swear to God you’ll be out of a job if you do.’
Oh Jesus! She sounded like her father . . . No matter how much she tried to deny it, his tyranny and passion were in her, too . .
.

‘You don’t have to threaten me,’ he said in mild reproof. ‘I’m only trying to do what’s best.’

‘I know and I’m sorry, but I’m slowly going mad here. I must know what’s happened.’ She waited but he didn’t respond. ‘OK,’ she said
abruptly, ‘then I’m calling in your debts.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Just remember that the only reason anyone feels confident about you running the studio in my absence is
because I’ve encouraged you to make a name for yourself along with me. I didn’t have to do that. I could have done what everybody else does and put your work out under the
studio’s name. You owe me for that at least.’

‘I owe you a great deal more, Jinx, which is why I’m shitting bricks this end. I don’t want to make things worse for you.’ He heard her indrawn breath.
‘OK, take it easy, I will tell you, but you must promise me you won’t do anything silly afterwards.’

‘Do you mean try and kill myself?’

‘Yes.’

‘I promise,’ she said wearily. ‘But if I was desperate enough to want to do it, then giving my word in advance wouldn’t stop me. It’s only fair you
should know that.’

Perversely, he found this honesty more reassuring than the pledge. ‘Sir Anthony said Leo and his girlfriend had been murdered. Their bodies were found last Thursday in a wood
near Winchester but the police think they were killed the week before.’

She clenched her fist against her heart. ‘Which day the week before?’

‘The Monday, according to Sir Anthony, but I’m not sure he knows. He really was very upset.’

Ice settled in a frozen block inside her. ‘What else did he say?’

‘Nothing much.’

‘Did he mention me?’

He didn’t answer.

‘Please, Dean.’

‘He said Leo had been engaged to a woman whose husband died the same way.’

She stared at her terrible image in the mirror.

‘Are you still there?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I made you do it. It wasn’t fair.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ But the line had gone dead and his words fell on deaf ears.

Chapter Twelve

Monday, 27 June, HO Forensic Lab, Hampshire – 9.30 a.m.

THE REVEREND CHARLES
Harris and his wife came to view the remains of their daughter together, but it was a more harrowing identification than Leo’s because Mrs
Harris was present. Frank Cheever had done his best to persuade her to remain at home in the company of a policewoman, but she had insisted on seeing Meg for herself. She had worn her grief with
calm composure throughout the car journey but, faced with the terrible sight of her daughter, she broke down. ‘This is Jinx Kingsley’s doing,’ she cried. ‘I warned Meg what
would happen if she took Leo away from her.’

‘Hush, Caroline,’ said her husband, putting his arm about her shoulders. ‘I’m sure this has nothing to do with Jinx.’

Her anger was immediate and terrible. ‘You stupid man!’ she screamed, thrusting him from her. ‘This is your baby lying here, not some parishioner’s child.
Look at her, Charles. Your Meggy, your darling, reduced to
this
.’ She held a fluttering hand to her lips. ‘Oh, GOD!’ The word exploded from her with hatred. ‘How can
you be so blind? First Russell. Now Leo and Meg.’ She rounded on Superintendent Cheever. ‘I’ve been so worried. From the moment she said Leo had left Jinx for her, I’ve been
so worried. She’s a murderer. She and her beastly father. They’re both murderers.’

Calmly, Dr Clarke pulled the shroud over Meg’s head, then took the mother’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. ‘We have to leave now, Mrs Harris,’
he said gently. ‘Would you like to say goodbye to Meg before we go?’

She stared at him with drowned eyes. ‘Meg’s dead.’

‘I know.’ He smiled into the sad face. ‘But this isn’t a bad place. God is here, too.’

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘you’re right.’ She turned and took a final look at the shrouded corpse. ‘God bless you, my darling,’ she whispered through
her tears. ‘God bless you.’

Frank Cheever watched Bob usher the wretched woman through the doors, and it crossed his mind that perhaps pathologists earned their salaries after all. He gestured awkwardly to
Meg’s father. ‘I’m not as good at this as Dr Clarke,’ he said apologetically, ‘but if you’d like some privacy with your daughter . . .’ He broke off.

‘No,’ said the vicar. ‘God and Meg both know what’s in my heart. I can’t say any more to her than I’ve said already.’ He led the way to the
doors, then faltered. ‘You really mustn’t pay any attention to what Caroline said, Superintendent. Jinx would never have done anything to harm Meg.’

‘Are you sure about that, sir?’

‘Yes,’ he said simply. ‘She’s rather a fine person, you know. I’ve always admired her courage.’

Nightingale Clinic, Salisbury – 10.00 a.m.

The telephone rang in Jinx’s room, fraying her nerves with its jangling peal. She pushed herself out of the chair and reached reluctantly for the receiver.
‘Hello,’ she said.

‘It’s your father, Jane. I’m sending the car to collect you.’

Fear ripped through her like burning acid.
What did he know?
There’d been no mention of Meg and Leo in the papers or on the television news. Her fingers clenched
involuntarily round the receiver, knuckles whitening under the strain, but her voice was calm.

‘Fine,’ she said, ‘send the car by all means, it’s no skin off my nose. I never wanted to be here in the first place. But I’m not coming home, Adam.
I’ll tell the driver to take me back to Richmond and, if he refuses to do that, then I’ll call a taxi and go to the station. Is that what you intended to achieve by this phone
call?’

There was an ominous silence at the other end.

‘Leave things as they are or I promise I’ll discharge myself.’ Her voice hardened. ‘And this time, you’ll lose me for good. Do you understand, Adam?
I’ll take out an injunction to prevent you coming within a mile of my house.’ She slammed the receiver down with unnecessary force, and sank on to the edge of the bed as the strength
seeped like sawdust from her knees and thighs. She felt the beginnings of a headache sawing away behind her eyes, and squeezed her temples tightly with shaking fingers.

The flash of memory that burst in her brain was blinding in its clarity.
Meg on her knees, begging . . . please . . . please . . . please . . .
She looked in confusion on her
friend’s terrified face, felt a corresponding rush of terror drive her own heart into a frenzy, before nausea sent her staggering into the bathroom to retch in agony into the lavatory.
Shaking violently, she lowered herself to the tiled floor and, as she laid her cheek on the cold ceramic, she clung in desperation to the fact that, despite all her friend’s faults, she had
loved Meg Harris.

But it was an hour before the shaking stopped.

The White Hart Hotel, Winchester – 10.10 a.m.

‘We know very little about your daughter,’ said Superintendent Cheever to the Reverend Harris and his wife. ‘As I explained, we had some difficulty finding you.
There is almost nothing of a personal nature in Meg’s flat, and we can only presume she was in the process of moving out of it.’

He had baulked at driving them to the police station and the sterility of an interview room, opting instead for a small upstairs parlour in a hotel near the mortuary, where Fraser
and a WPC could sit unobtrusively in the background taking notes. He had abandoned the flamboyance of silk bow-tie and silk handkerchief in favour of sombre black, and he looked to be what he
really was – an ordinary man in ordinary surroundings, unthreatening and rather kind. Mrs Harris sat hunched in an armchair beside the half-open window, a cup of tea, untouched, on the table
next to her. Her husband sat on a hard chair next to her, clearly unsure whether to comfort her or leave her to come to terms with her grief alone, holding his own grief in check for fear of making
things worse for her. Cheever felt sorry for both of them, but he reserved his deepest sympathy for Meg’s father. Why was it, he wondered, that men were expected to disguise their
feelings?

‘She was going on holiday with Leo,’ said Charles quietly, ‘but she didn’t say anything about moving out of her flat. Not to me anyway.’ He looked
irresolutely at his wife.

‘She didn’t tell you anything, Charles, because she knew you’d disapprove.’ Caroline mopped her red-rimmed eyes. ‘She had an abortion ten years ago. She
didn’t tell you about that either, did she? And why not? Because you’d have ruined her life for her.’ She crumpled the handkerchief between her palms. ‘Well, it’s
ruined anyway, but it might not have been if she’d been able to talk to you as a father instead of a priest. Everything had to be kept secret in case you preached at her.’

Her husband stared at her, the planes of his face bleached white with shock. ‘I didn’t know,’ he murmured. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Of course you’re sorry. Now,’ she added bitterly. ‘I’m sorry, too. Sorry for her, sorry for the baby, sorry for me. I’d like to have been a
grandmother.’ Her voice broke on a sob. ‘It’s such a waste. It’s
all
such a waste.’ She turned to the Superintendent. ‘We have a son, but he’s never
wanted to marry. He wanted to be ordained like his father.’ Her eyes filled again. ‘It’s such a terrible waste.’

Cheever waited while she fought for control. ‘You implied that you knew Meg was moving out of her flat, Mrs Harris,’ he said at last. ‘Could you tell us about that?
Where was she going?’

‘To live with Leo. He had a house. It made more sense for her to move in with him.’

‘Do you know where the house is?’

‘Somewhere in Chelsea. Meg was going to give me the address when she came back from France. Don’t Leo’s parents know?’

Frank side-stepped the question. ‘They’re very shocked at the moment.’

There was a painful silence.

‘Have you met Sir Anthony and Lady Wallader?’ Cheever asked next.

Caroline’s mouth puckered tragically. ‘We never even met Leo,’ she said. ‘How could we have met his parents? It was all so quick. We had an invitation to
Jinx’s wedding sitting on the mantelpiece, and then Meg phoned to say Leo wanted to marry her instead.’ She shook her head in disbelief.

Charles stirred on his chair. ‘She rang on the Saturday morning,’ he murmured quietly, ‘the eleventh, I believe, and I was rather upset by the news. I wondered what
sort of a man Leo was to abandon his fiancée so close to the wedding in order to take up with her best friend.’ He lifted his hands in resignation. ‘She told me that she’d
known Leo far longer than Jinx had, and that he’d only proposed to Jinx because of some silly row they’d had. “He wanted to spite me,” she said.’ He paused for a
moment. ‘I forget sometimes that she’s a grown woman – was a grown woman,’ he corrected himself, ‘and, yes, I can see now that I tended to preach, but it was so clear
to me that this man was not to be relied upon, and I’m afraid we had a terrible argument about him. I said his behaviour was neither mature nor honourable, and that if he was prepared to
treat Jinx so shabbily then Meg would be wise to have nothing more to do with him.’ His voice faltered slightly. ‘I’m afraid she hung up on me and we never spoke again, although I
believe Caroline tried later the same day.’ He turned to his wife. ‘That’s right, isn’t it?’