The Dark Room (35 page)

From her pocket she took the newspaper clipping that Betty had given her and pressed it into his hands. ‘According to this I was found by a young couple. He wouldn’t have
had time to finish me off if he saw them coming.’

‘Look, Miss Kingsley,’ said Maddocks, ‘I hate to be cruel, but facts are facts. According to your neighbours in Richmond, this wasn’t the first time. Your
first attempt was on the Sunday. Whether you like it or not, indeed whether you remember it or not – and by your own admission you have a habit of blocking out anything that disturbs you
– something so terrible happened that you primed yourself with Dutch courage and then had a second go at finishing it all.’

Something terrible happened
. . . ‘I’ve never been drunk in my life,’ she said stubbornly. ‘I’ve never wanted to be drunk.’

‘There’s always a first time.’

She shrugged. ‘Not as far as I’m concerned, Inspector.’

‘You had consumed the equivalent of two bottles of wine when you had your accident, Miss Kingsley. The bottles were found on the floor of your car. Are you telling me you can
absorb that amount of alcohol without being what the rest of us would term drunk?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m saying I would never have
wanted
to drink that much.’

‘Not even if you had done something you were ashamed off?’

She fixed him with her steady gaze. ‘Like what?’

‘Been party to a murder perhaps?’

She shook her head. ‘Do you not see how illogical that argument is? As I understand it, Meg and Leo’s bodies were found near Winchester, which means that whoever murdered
them must have worked out some fairly complicated logistics. I can’t find out from the newspapers whether they were killed in the wood or taken there after they were dead but, whichever it
was, someone went to a great deal of trouble to get them there. But why would anyone go to those lengths if they were so ashamed of what they’d done that they then tried to kill themselves?
It doesn’t make sense. On the one hand, you’re describing a very calculating personality who set out to get rid of two people; on the other, you’re describing a weak personality
who may have struck out in a moment of anger but was then so appalled by what he’d done that he tried to make amends by killing himself.’

‘You really have given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?’

The huge black eyes filled again. ‘As you would have done, if you were in my place. I’m not a fool, Inspector.’

Maddocks surprised her by acknowledging this with a nod. It was on the tip of his tongue to say, ‘Point taken,’ but he checked himself in time. ‘There’s no
logic to murder, Miss Kingsley, not in my experience anyway. It’s usually the last people you’d expect who do it. Some of them show remorse early, some of them show it when
they’re convicted, and some of them never show it at all. Believe me, it is not uncommon for a calculating individual to plan a murder, carry it out, dispose of the body, and then have an
attack of conscience. We see it over and over again. There’s no reason why this case should be any different.’

‘Then you might as well clap the handcuffs on me now,’ she said, ‘because I can’t defend myself.’

Nothing would give me more pleasure, sweetheart
. ‘There’s no question of that,’ he said affably. ‘As Sergeant Fraser said, we are pursuing various
lines of enquiry, and this is just one of them. However, I’m sure you realize how important it is that you give us some indication of what went on in the two weeks prior to your accident and
the deaths of Leo and Meg. Unfortunately, you seem to be the only person left who can shed any light on the matter.’

She drew on her cigarette with a worried frown. ‘What about Meg’s friends? Have you spoken to any of them? Surely they can tell you something.’

‘Acting on the information you gave us, we spoke to Josh Hennessey yesterday. He told us that the first he knew about Leo and Meg getting together was a phone call from Meg on
Saturday, June the eleventh. She told him your wedding was off, that she and Leo were leaving for France but that she would pop into the office before she left to bring him up to date with her side
of the operation. She never showed and he never heard from her again. He also gave us the names of some of Meg’s close friends. We spoke to a couple of them, Fay Avonalli and Marian Harding,
and they told us the same story.’

‘But didn’t you ask Josh about her and Leo’s relationship before that? I mean, he and Meg have worked together for years, he knows everything about her, so
presumably he knew about the affair.’

It was Fraser who answered. ‘He gave us the name of one man who featured seriously for two or three months at the beginning of this year, but he said Meg had hardly mentioned
Leo at all, and he was surprised when she phoned to say they were planning to get married. He said Leo had been around for years, and they had an off-and-on relationship which resurrected itself
whenever they were both at a loose end. But he’d never known them to stick together for more than a month or two because Meg always got so irritated with Leo’s’ – he sought
for a suitable word – ‘selfishness. He said he told her she was mad to think it would be any different this time, and gave the relationship a month to run. He also told her she was a
prize bitch and that the only reason she wanted Leo was because he was marrying you.’ He smiled sympathetically. ‘According to him, Meg was jealous of you. Apparently, she resented you
inheriting Russell’s money on top of the money you will inherit from your father. She said Jinx always lands on her feet, while she ended up in the cesspit.’

‘Which is true in a funny sort of way. All Meg ever wanted was enough ready cash to give her the good times. She said it was so unfair that she had a vicar for a father when
penury was the one thing she loathed. She couldn’t understand why I didn’t touch Adam for money at every opportunity.’

Fraser echoed Protheroe’s scepticism of earlier. ‘I’m surprised you liked her.’

‘I don’t have many friends. In any case, she was fun. I suppose it was a case of opposites attracting. I take life too seriously. She gloried in it. She’s the only
person I’ve ever known who lived entirely for the present.’ A tear fell on to her cheek. ‘I was far more jealous of her than she was of me.’

‘So would you say your jealousy extended to anger over her stealing of your men friends?’ asked Maddocks.

Jinx stubbed out the butt of her cigarette. ‘No,’ she said tiredly, ‘it didn’t. I’m sorry, Inspector, but I really don’t think there’s
anything more I can tell you.’

Alan Protheroe was waiting by their car when they rounded the corner of the building. ‘I trust, gentlemen, that you showed Miss Kingsley rather more courtesy than you showed
me when you pushed your way into my office.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I have extreme reservations about these bully-boy tactics of yours.’

‘We had a little chat, sir,’ protested Maddocks, ‘which you could have joined at any time, had you or Miss Kingsley wished it.’

Alan shook his head in irritation. ‘You’re a type, Inspector, and it’s not a type I admire or even believe should be in the police force. Do you really need
reminding that Miss Kingsley was in a coma less than a week ago? Or that your colleagues at Fordingbridge believe she has twice tried to kill herself?’

‘It’s a funny business that suicide attempt.’ Maddocks nodded towards Fraser. ‘She told the Sergeant here she thought someone was trying to kill her.
What’s your reading of it, Doctor? Attempted suicide or attempted murder? Does Miss Kingsley strike you as the suicidal type? I can’t see it myself.’

‘But attempted murder
convinces
you?’

Maddocks grinned. ‘I’d say that was a clutching at straws to lay the blame on someone else.’

‘So what are you left with if it was neither?’

‘A little piece of theatre, I think. She’s one hell of an actress, this patient of yours, but then I’m sure you know that already.’

Alan nodded abruptly towards the front doors. ‘One of my security staff has something to show you. My view is it should be handed to the Salisbury police, who I understood were
dealing with the assault on me, but they appear to be passing the buck to you.’ He led the way inside and gestured towards the sledgehammer, which was lying on top of the reception desk with
a polythene bag neatly attached to its head. ‘Harry Elphick,’ he said, introducing the security officer. ‘He found it in one of the outhouses. It has flakes of red paint on the
metal which might have come from my Wolseley.’

Maddocks smiled appreciatively. ‘Good man, Harry. What made you go looking for it?’

Harry, who prided himself on his judgement, recognized a good’un when he saw one. ‘Well, sir, it was like this. Begging the doctor’s pardon, I don’t set as
much store by the youngsters here as he does.’ He launched into a rambling account of his reasoning processes, finishing with: ‘So, as I always say, when you’re looking for an
answer, look for the obvious, and the obvious in this case is that one of the little tykes on the premises thought he’d chance his arm.’

Maddocks glanced towards Alan with a malicious smile. ‘Or
her
arm,’ he murmured. ‘I hadn’t realized until Miss Kingsley stood up in your room just how
tall she is. Five feet ten would be my guess.’

Nightingale Clinic, Salisbury – 10.00 p.m.

Veronica Gordon heard the commotion from the front hall as she was sipping her cup of tea in the staff sitting room. She walked out and frowned angrily at the sight of Betty
Kingsley trying to wrestle free of Amy Staunton. ‘Black bitch,’ Betty was shouting. ‘Get your hands off me. I want to see my daughter!’

‘What on earth is going on?’ Veronica asked icily, laying a hand on the older woman’s collar and yanking her back with surprising strength. ‘How dare you
speak to one of my nursing staff in those terms? I won’t tolerate it, not from anyone, and most especially not from a drunk.’ She looked very angry. ‘What a disgraceful
exhibition. Just who on earth do you think you are?’

Betty’s face grew sullen as she shook the hand off. ‘You know who I am,’ she said aggressively. ‘I’m Mrs Adam Kingsley and I’ve come to see my
daughter.’ But she was wilting visibly in the face of the sister’s sobriety and superior aggression.

‘That’s out of the question,’ Veronica snapped. ‘It’s ten o’clock at night and you’re in no condition to talk to anyone. I suggest you go
home and sober up, and come back again tomorrow morning in a rather more presentable state than you are in at the moment.’

Betty’s eyes bulged in her powdered face. ‘My husband’s going to hear about this. You’ve got a right nerve talking to me like that.’

‘What an excellent idea. Why don’t we phone Mr Kingsley now? I’m sure he’ll be delighted to hear that his wife has engaged in a drunken brawl with a nurse at
the Nightingale Clinic.’

Tears coursed down the grotesque face. ‘I need to see Jinx,’ she wept. ‘Please let me see my daughter.’ But she seemed to realize that tears weren’t
going to win her any sympathy, so she took a deep breath, patted her hair and pulled her coat straight. ‘There you are. That’s better, isn’t it? I won’t cause no trouble,
not if you let me see her.’ She dabbed her eyes and fixed a pathetically roguish smile on her lips. ‘Cheerful as anything. Don’t take no mind of what I said earlier.’ She
patted Amy’s arm. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it, dear. I’ve got a cruel mouth sometimes. Are you going to let me see Jinx? Please, it’s that important.’

Veronica mellowed a little. ‘What is so important that it can’t wait till tomorrow, Mrs Kingsley?’

‘Meg and Leo,’ she said. ‘Me and the boys read they’d been murdered but her Daddy’s refusing to do anything about it. Seems to me someone should give
the poor kid a cuddle, even if it is only me.’

Veronica agreed with her, and if she thought it a little odd that Betty had waited twelve hours and got herself drunk before she put the idea into practice, she didn’t say
anything. Instead she sent Amy down to find out if Jinx was still awake, before escorting Betty to number twelve and leaving the two women together with the door wide open. ‘I’ll be
just along the corridor,’ she informed them. ‘You have fifteen minutes, Mrs Kingsley, and I do not expect to hear any raised voices. Is that understood?’

Betty waited till she’d gone then gave a disparaging sniff. ‘She’s a right bitch, that one.’ She staggered to a chair and collapsed into it, staring morosely
at her stepdaughter who was already in bed. ‘I suppose some-one’s told you Meg and Leo are dead.’

Jinx hid her dismay. ‘Who brought you, Betty?’

‘I made Jenkins do it.’ She waved a meaty hand towards the door. ‘He’s waiting outside.’

‘Does Adam know you’ve come?’

‘Course not.’ She shook her head. ‘He’s in London. The shares have been sliding all day. He’s trying to repair the damage.’

‘I saw it on the news.’

‘Oh, my, my. You’re a cool one. Always were.’ She blew her nose. ‘D’you know why they’re sliding? Because Leo’s dead and Russell’s
dead, and fingers are pointing.’

Jinx watched her for a moment. ‘It won’t affect you or the boys,’ she said calmly. ‘The company’s sound and Adam won’t let the slide continue
indefinitely. Your shares will go back up again, so you won’t lose out.’

‘And how’s your precious Adam going to stop the slide?’ she hissed, her little eyes like flints. ‘You tell me that. There’s me and the boys worrying
ourselves sick, while you and your daddy behave as if nothing’s happened.’

‘If necessary, he’ll resign.’ A small frown creased her forehead. ‘You know that as well as I do. It’s what he’s always said he would do in a
crisis.’

‘And where will that leave us?’

‘With all the shares Adam gave you ten years ago.’

Betty took out a compact and floured her ravaged face. ‘No,’ she said tightly, ‘it’ll leave me with no home to call my own. It’s not ours, remember,
belongs to the company. An asset. That’s what they call it, isn’t it? Did you think of
that
when you brought this crisis on our heads? If your daddy resigns we lose the Hall. The
boys’ll be out of a job, and none of us’ll have a roof over our heads. What’ve you got to say to that?’