Murder... Now and Then (44 page)

But Judy couldn't. ‘If you ask me, everyone he had anything to do with would be too scared of him to try it,' she said. ‘He may have been killed by someone who knew that he really
could
give Max Scott an alibi for his wife's murder, and that that would reopen the case without Max as the star turn.'

‘I said – let's forget about work. It's Friday night.'

‘Soon,' she promised, and told Lloyd about her interview with Max, and Catherine's choosing to forfeit her stepfather's money by marrying Max. ‘She hated her stepfather,' she said. ‘She married Max Scott to escape from him. I think she was desperate to marry him.'

‘Tell me in the morning,' he said.

‘Yes, but giving Max an alibi effectively gave her one too, don't forget. And now we know she' – she carried on, despite the fact that Lloyd was now tickling her feet while looking as though he was hanging on her every word – ‘wasn't with him. She got him to go to … London that evening, and she didn't tell him' – she got giggly, but she carried on – ‘ that she'd
moved
. He goes to the wrong address, so … he doesn't know where
she
was, does he?' She finished in a rush of words, before the giggles consumed her. ‘I think that's why he reacted so violently when he realized who Horyoak was.' Lloyd went back to the massage, and she could speak like a rational being again. ‘ Do you believe her about someone coming to the door while she was on the phone to Valerie?'

‘It tallies. Valerie Scott was interviewed by a Tory lady at about five forty-five – that's around the time that Catherine says she rang Mrs Scott.'

‘She could have found that out at the time – be using it now to give herself a different alibi.'

Lloyd looked thoughtful. ‘ Now you come to mention it,' he said, ‘I think she may have been doing just that. Because I think she gilded the lily just a little too much.' He smiled.

He wasn't going to tell her; she wasn't going to ask. She ploughed on. ‘And I still don't think she got those bruises because her husband grabbed hold of her. We've only got her word for it about where
she
was on Wednesday night.'

‘Well, she wasn't committing step-patricide,' said Lloyd. ‘No one came to the door, remember – and she couldn't get up there by the lift. And even if she knows Anna's patent method for beating the cameras, she couldn't have known the fire door had been left open.'

‘True,' said Judy.

‘But,' he said, firmly putting her feet down. ‘That can all wait until tomorrow. There's a good film on tonight, and I'm going to make us some supper, and watch it.'

Who
did
know it had been left open, she wondered She'd check her notebook in the morning.

‘We'll have another word with Mrs Scott, I think,' he said, as he got up. ‘Do you actually have any food in the house?'

‘Some,' she said, and caught his hand. ‘ I love you too, you know,' she said, in case he thought for one moment that she didn't, in view of his morose chat about broken homes.

He clutched his heart. ‘ My God, things must be worse than I thought,' he said. ‘So what brought
that
on?'

She smiled. ‘Max Scott, Charles Rule, Bannister …'

‘You didn't fall under the Max Scott spell, then?'

Judy thought about that, and grinned. ‘No,' she said. ‘But I didn't find him a … what was it Finch called him?'

Lloyd let go of her hand and made for the kitchen. ‘ I can't remember,' he said. ‘But roughly translated it meant ‘‘ a boorish, unwholesome person''.'

Judy smiled. ‘ Yes, well – I didn't think he was that,' she said, and remembered what Finch had called him.

It would get a lot of points at Scrabble.

The mail came not long after Jackie had gone to work; just one letter, which Bannister tore open with his thumb. If he didn't come up with the arrears of rent, an eviction order would be served.

He sat down, visions of them all living in one room of a bed and breakfast hotel rising up before him, and he felt sick. What kind of man was it that couldn't keep a roof over his head, couldn't provide for his wife and children?

It was Jackie's fault. She had never learned to economize, always carried on spending as though he was still earning good money. He'd told her and told her that she had to spend less, but she didn't. She said it was her money, when he got angry with her. And it was. But her job didn't bring in anything like enough to live the way they used to live, and he couldn't get that through to her.

Next door the washing machine's monotonous churning began again as it moved into its next cycle, and he wanted to scream. He couldn't get away from any of it. He was trapped in a downward spiral, with money flowing one way. She should do one big wash a week, not shove things in before she went to work, so that it slapped and sloshed its way through electricity that he hadn't paid for, and couldn't pay for. Somehow that machine had become the focus for his frustration, and he wanted to go in and kick it into silence.

But it wasn't Jackie's fault. She shouldn't have to penny-pinch. He should have a proper job with a proper future, and proper money coming in. And he didn't. He didn't because one night he had taken liberties with a cheap little whore, and if he could recall just one moment of his life, that would be the one.

But he couldn't, and he had to get money from somewhere; whether Jackie liked it or not, he was going to have to take the minder's job before the offer was closed.

Judy had chosen the burger bar in the Square, Stansfield's main shopping centre, in preference to her own flat, where Linda might feel at a disadvantage, or Lloyd's flat, where Linda thought Judy had no right to be.

Linda had at least turned up; she sat at a table with a cup of coffee. Judy took a deep breath, got herself coffee and joined her. ‘Thanks for coming,' she said.

‘I can imagine what he'd have said if I hadn't,' she said.

Judy smiled. ‘Are you having something to eat?' she asked.

Linda shook her head.

‘I hardly ever eat lunch,' said Judy, but she decided that small talk was not required. ‘Well,' she said. ‘I've spoken to him, and – subject to certain conditions – he's agreed.'

She looked at Judy with Lloyd's eyes. ‘ What are the conditions?' she said. ‘That he comes with me?'

‘No,' said Judy, with a laugh. ‘But you have to try to see it from his point of view, Linda. Lloyd and I have seen more of what can happen to young girls in London than most people – he's concerned that's all.'

‘He thinks I'll end up on the streets!' she said, in a loud enough voice to make people turn and look.

That particular Lloyd trait had long since ceased to embarrass Judy. ‘ Some girls do,' she said. ‘I don't think for a moment that you would but Lloyd and I spent several nights of our lives sweeping up the ones that had. And some of them were simply girls who had gone to London thinking that they'd get jobs and flats and boyfriends, and drifted into it when the money ran out and the creeps started coming out of the woodwork.'

Linda raised her eyes to heaven. ‘I'm not that stupid,' she said. ‘What makes him think that I am? Why doesn't he give Peter a hard time about what he wants to do?'

‘He doesn't think you're stupid. It's just that fathers of teenage girls tend to be over-protective,' She smiled. ‘And Peter wants to be a plumber.'

Linda very nearly laughed. But not quite.

‘Anyway,' said Judy. ‘My parents have a spare room, and they've said that they'd be more than happy to put you up while you look for a job. If you get a job, then obviously you'd be able to look for somewhere else to live, but you'd have a base to do it from. And if you can't find a job straight away, it won't be the end of the world. It'll give you a chance to see if you do really want to live there, as well.'

Linda looked very unimpressed. ‘But your parents must be ancient,' she said.

‘Thanks,' said Judy, and smiled. ‘ My mother has just celebrated her sixtieth birthday, and my father retired last year. Pretty ancient. I suppose, by your standards – but they're anything but old-fashioned. I think you'd like them – obviously, you'll want to meet each other first before any decision is taken, but—'

‘They'd always want to know where I'd been and who I'd been with,' said Linda.

Judy thought about that. ‘ No,' she said. ‘ I think they'd mind their own business. But they'd be there if you needed them,' she said. ‘Until you found your feet, as my mother would say. That's the whole point.'

‘I don't have to put up with any of this,' said Linda. ‘I could just go, right now. And he couldn't stop me. I'll be eighteen in August anyway – he's behaving as if I was a child.'

They had quite a captive audience at the next table, all of whom now looked at Judy to see what counter she had for that.

‘I know,' she said. ‘Of course you could just go, and worry your mother and father to death. If you do it this way, you might only have to put up with my ancient parents for a few weeks before you get a job, and find somewhere to share, or whatever. But you wouldn't have to take the first thing that came along.'

Linda stared into her coffee.

‘Your mum and dad know they can trust you, Linda. They just don't want to have to worry about you. It would set their minds at rest if they knew you were in good hands while you were looking around, that's all.'

Judy was rather proud of it as an off-the-cuff speech; she half expected a round of applause.

Linda frowned. ‘Does my mother know about this, then?' she asked.

‘Yes, of course she does.'

‘And she doesn't mind? I mean – my being with your parents?'

‘No,' said Judy. ‘It's the late-twentieth-century equivalent of the extended family, I suppose. Your father and mine are pretty good friends, you know – Barbara's met my parents, and I think she likes them. And they won't crowd you, I promise. They were enlightened even when I was seventeen.'

‘I don't know,' said Linda.

‘Will you think about it?'

‘I suppose so.'

Judy had expected no more.

‘I know it's short notice, Lloyd – I'm sorry. But apparently the Chief's getting hot under the collar about joy-riding, and both the chief super and I have got to go to this conference.'

Lloyd was never too upset when his detective superintendent had to leave the office. But joy-riding? ‘It's not really much of a problem in Stansfield,' he said. ‘ Even if it was – it's not really a CID problem at all.'

‘Quite. But he thinks that it will reach Stansfield unless something's done to nip it in the bud,' said Andrews. ‘And he thinks that CID should be aware of it. In some places, it's practically organized crime – he thinks it can't be left to the uniforms to sort out once it's in full spate.'

‘I suppose he's got a point, sir.'

‘Yes. So – you'll have to stand and smile, shake hands, eat some lunch, mingle with the councillors, that sort of thing.'

‘It is my day off, sir,' said Lloyd.

Andrews shrugged, ‘Can't be helped,' he said.

Lloyd had been looking forward to his day off; Judy was on leave this week, and he had thought that they could perhaps go somewhere for the day. He really didn't fancy putting on his best bib and tucker to represent the police at some factory.

‘It's a bit hush-hush because of security problems, but some cabinet minister's doing the honours,' said Andrews. ‘They haven't officially said which.'

Lloyd groaned. ‘ Special Branch will be involved?' he said.

‘Involved – my God, Lloyd, they'll search your underwear for bombs. They've already got Driver's – sorry, Holyoak UK – jumping through hoops. It's got enough security to satisfy anyone, but not Special Branch. It's a bloody security systems factory, for God's sake.'

‘Oh – it's Zelda Driver's firm, is it? I didn't realize – I knew she'd sold the business, but I didn't make the connection.' He sighed. ‘ It's an all-day do, is it, sir?'

‘Probably. Holyoak's pushing the boat out, apparently. They say he's twice as rich as Croesus and we should all be on our knees thanking him for choosing Stansfield as his base, so be on your best behaviour.'

He really couldn't think of a more boring way to spend his time. Lloyd thought hard for who he might convince Andrews would be an infinitely better choice. Finch was already going to be on duty outside the factory, and Judy, who would have been ideal, in Lloyd's opinion, was on leave, which was why he really didn't want to go, so it was a vicious circle.

‘And of course the press and TV will be there.'

Lloyd remained unimpressed. Outwardly. ‘Well, if I'm it, I'm it,' he said. ‘What time do I have to be there?'

‘I take it you and Charles are invited to this do tomorrow?' asked Zelda.

‘Oh, yes,' said Geraldine, unenthuiastically. ‘ Have you come all the way out here just to ask me that?'

‘No,' said Zelda. ‘I've come all the way out here to see if you know what's going on.'

Geraldine frowned, and picked up the coffeepot. ‘Do you want a biscuit or anything?' she asked.

‘No,' said Zelda. ‘Not if it's one of Charles's awful muesli things.'

It was one of Charles's awful muesli things. Geraldine poured the coffee, and sat down at the kitchen table. ‘What's going on about what?' she asked.

‘Catherine and Max,' said Zelda.

‘Is something going on?'

‘You mean apart from the fact that I saw him sneaking up to the penthouse flat as I was leaving?' asked Zelda.