Murder... Now and Then (45 page)

‘Well, you have told me about him and Anna Worthing already, haven't you? You didn't come hotfoot from work to tell me again.'

‘Catherine says she isn't going to be there tomorrow,' said Zelda.

‘Whyever not?'

Zelda shrugged. ‘She says it's nothing to do with Max,' she said. ‘But I thought Max might have confided in Charles, or something.'

Geraldine smiled. ‘ If he had, you're the last person I'd tell,' she said.

‘I know,' Zelda sighed. ‘ You're no fun, Geraldine.'

‘Anyway, as far as I know, he hasn't. Didn't Catherine give you any reason?'

Zelda sipped her coffee and shivered. ‘ This is decaffeinated,' she said, and looked round for sugar, but Charles had banned it as unnecessary. Geraldine indicated the sweeteners, and Zelda raised her eyes to heaven, dropping two into her cup. ‘She just said she didn't like that sort of thing,' she said, stirring the coffee. ‘I said she'd have to get used to that sort of thing now that Max is being crowned general manager, thanks to his winning ways with the new management.'

Geraldine shook her head. ‘ You'll go too far one day, Zelda,' she warned her. ‘What in the world did poor Max do to you?'

‘I just don't think much of the way he behaved with Catherine – then or now,' said Zelda.

‘With Catherine?' said Geraldine, wickedly. ‘Or you?'

Zelda had become involved with Max, Geraldine was certain, because whatever Max had done, it was much more personal to Zelda than his treatment of a third party, however young. And yet she had taken Catherine entirely under her wing, so presumably she hadn't been that jealous of Max's affair with the girl. Zelda had seen Catherine as a wronged innocent, but Geraldine hadn't then, and didn't now.

It took two to tango, after all, and Catherine had known what she was doing. That story about having come to tell Max that she was pregnant, while insisting that Max had been with her the evening before … Geraldine had never believed that. One or the other. If Max
had
been with her, then she had already decided to terminate the pregnancy without Max's knowledge. The more likely scenario was that he hadn't been with her at all, and that Catherine had seen the chance to put poor old Max for ever in her debt by giving him a much-needed alibi.

Geraldine had never felt that Catherine's performance had been entirely convincing. If you were to ask Geraldine, Max hadn't been the first, though that was the impression Catherine had tried to give. She had been desperate to hook Max; becoming pregnant was an old ploy, and Catherine had used it. But when she had arrived to drop her bombshell, she had realized what a desperate mess it would put Max in, and had deliberately destroyed her baby. Geraldine could never forgive her for that.

Zelda, of course, hadn't responded to her question, and was now looking at her, eyebrows raised. ‘Penny for them,' she said.

Geraldine smiled. ‘ Nothing,' she said. ‘It's just … well, everyone being together again like that – it's bringing back unpleasant memories, I suppose. And it'll bring them back to everyone else. I don't blame Catherine for not wanting to go. I'm not exactly looking forward to it either.'

‘Well,' said Zelda. ‘I don't know how Max will feel about it – he could do with some moral support, if moral isn't too much a contradiction in terms when we're talking about Max.'

‘She hasn't told him?'

‘She's telling him tonight. A great one for leaving things to the very last minute, our Catherine.'

Wasn't she, though, thought Geraldine.

‘I didn't think we'd get the flat,' he said. ‘I thought Holyoak would want it, with the big day tomorrow.'

She sat on her knees between his drawn-up legs, his arms round her, his smooth chest touching her back. She had been right in the first place; there was no hidden eye watching them, for Max had obviously not been presented with evidence of his folly. They had been meeting like this every week for months; she could only conclude that Max had done Victor some sort of favour on the promise of the sex that he was enjoying even now as Anna did all the right things, murmured all the right things, and produced all the right reactions while thinking of something else altogether.

Tomorrow was all about Catherine, and it had been worrying Anna, as she had remembered to thrill to Max's touch. It was so important to Victor, and he had left all the arrangements for the lunch and the cocktail party to her. She had never done any thing like that in her life. And she had been praying that she wouldn't let him down, as she had moaned her appreciation of Max's technique. Letting Victor down was something that she could never afford to do. She had been mentally ticking off everything that had to be done first thing in the morning as she had writhed with pleasure. Poor Victor. Catherine had always run rings round him. He could make captains of industry, policemen, politicians, street-wise crooks, and money-wise financiers jump to his tune, but not his stepdaughter. And Anna had so much on her mind, what with the lunch and the cocktail party, that it really was inconvenient having to do this as well, she had thought, as she had gasped with excitement in their simultaneous orgasmic ecstasy.

She rested her elbows on his knees. ‘He's not coming until the morning,' she said. ‘But he said he'd be using the flat tomorrow night. Don't let me forget to change the sheets.'

‘Are you and Victor Holyoak lovers?' he asked suddenly, for the first time.

‘No,' she said firmly. ‘But I still think he'd rather have clean sheets.'

He laughed, and nuzzled her neck. ‘ So how long have we got?'

‘Until about nine, or so.' She laid her head back on Max's shoulder, and wondered if that menu would be all right for lunch. She had never had to do a menu before.

‘Are you worrying about tomorrow?' he asked, his lips close to her ear. ‘You don't have to. Everything will go swimmingly, I promise.'

She smiled, as he held her very close, telling her what he'd told her a dozen times already, and she still didn't believe.

‘He wouldn't have given you the job if he didn't think you could do it,' he said. ‘You're worth a dozen university graduates, Anna. What would Holyoak want with them? You believe in him. He couldn't buy that belief.'

She believed in him, all right. Because whatever it took, Victor got what he set out to get, even if he no longer wanted it. And it was true that only someone who knew him as well as she did, or who had been at the receiving end of his ruthlessness, could have that belief. But Max was wrong. Victor could, and did, buy it; Max had clearly capitulated before he had found that out.

He drew her into a long, reassuring kiss. It was nice; she liked Max.

‘Tell me something,' he said. ‘Did you put in a good word for me with Holyoak? Zelda thinks you did.'

Anna frowned. ‘What do you mean?' she asked.

‘Well – he's given me this job, and he's never even met me.'

Anna wasn't sure what to say. She had naturally assumed that Max and Victor had met. But it wasn't necessary to come face to face with Victor to find yourself dancing to his tune; he had never met Zelda Driver, and yet he had finally wrested her business from her. She didn't realize that she had been manipulated; Anna presumed that Max didn't either. Perhaps Victor was just grateful to him for taking his stepdaughter off his hands, she thought, a little less than charitably.

‘Did you?' he asked again.

‘No,' she said. ‘I suppose he just felt Catherine's husband should have a more senior position.'

‘Catherine?' he said. ‘What on earth's Catherine got to do with it?'

Oh, God, she'd offended him. ‘Oh – I didn't mean that you wouldn't have got the job anyway,' she said. ‘Everyone thinks you should have got it years ago.'

‘Never mind that,' Max said. ‘What has Catherine got to do with anything?'

Anna's mouth went dry. He didn't know. He really didn't know.

‘Anna?' His elbow touched her ribs. ‘Tell me.'

Oh, Christ, what had she done? She licked her lips before she spoke. ‘Max—' Now she really was breathing hard, with sheer fear. If Victor hadn't meant Max to know …

‘Anna?' he said again, his voice anxious.

She couldn't not tell him; she had said too much for that. ‘Catherine is Victor Holyoak's stepdaughter,' she said.

There was total silence for a moment as he stared at her, his eyes quite blank.

‘You mustn't tell Victor I told you,' she said, twisting round between his legs so that she was facing him. ‘I thought you knew, Max – please, you mustn't tell Victor. You must promise. Promise me, Max!'

He was staring into space, not taking in what she was saying.

‘Max!' she said desperately. ‘Promise me!'

His eyes focused, and he blinked. ‘What? No … no, I won't tell him.' He put his hand to his forehead, rubbing it. ‘Are you sure?' he asked, with a sort of laugh.

She nodded.

‘But … why in God's name wouldn't she tell me?'

‘I don't know,' said Anna miserably. ‘She … she hates him, as far as I can see. She ran away from home when she was sixteen.'

‘I know,' he said, nodding, still bewildered. ‘But why wouldn't she tell me who he was?'

Anna felt sick. ‘I don't know why they didn't tell you, but I shouldn't have, and I wish to God I hadn't.'

‘Are you afraid of Holyoak?' he asked.

Anna smiled nervously. ‘I'm … I'm afraid I'll lose my job if he finds out,' she said.

‘About us?' He shook his head. ‘He won't find out,' he said.

She allowed him to believe that that was what she meant and breathed a small sigh of relief at his assurances, but there was only one man whose word she relied on, and he had given her his word that she would be back on the streets if she ever let him down. She had let him down now, all right. Bloody Catherine. She had got into more trouble over that little bitch …

‘Were they ever going to tell me?' he asked.

‘Victor's announcing it tomorrow,' Anna said. ‘I think he assumed you knew.'

‘Announcing what exactly?'

‘That that was why he came here. Why he chose Stansfield. Why he chose Driver's.'

‘Do you know why she ran away from home?' he asked.

Oh, God. ‘Yes,' she said.

‘Why? She's never told me.'

He ought to know, she thought. He bloody well ought to know just what sort of a selfish bitch he'd married. And he would either tell Victor of this conversation or he wouldn't; she was in trouble anyway if he did, because she had promised never to discuss Victor's business with anyone, and now she had. She had talked out of turn.

In for a penny, she thought leaning her elbows on Max's knees as she began her story. ‘Victor met Catherine's mother when Catherine was about twelve,' she said. ‘They were very close – her mother had had a mild stroke, but she was doing all right.'

‘Catherine resented the intrusion?'

‘No, I don't think she did. But about eighteen months later her mother had another stroke – the one that paralysed her. Catherine blamed Victor.'

‘Why?'

‘She said he'd made demands on her,' said Anna.

‘What sort of demands?'

She indicated their own entwined bodies with a wave of the hand.

‘Oh,' said Max.

‘Then one weekend when she was about sixteen, her mother had to go into hospital. Victor was going to be away, so Catherine was supposed to go to friends. But Victor had a spot of bother, and couldn't go.'

‘A spot of bother?' Max repeated.

‘Victor didn't make all that money by opening a post-office savings account,' said Anna.

‘He was a crook?'

‘Of course he was,' she said, impatient to get on with her story, now she'd started. ‘Anyway, he didn't go away. He arranged some company for himself. And there they were, on the sheepskin rug in the sitting room, with her doing the business on him, when in comes Catherine.'

‘Ah,' said Max.

‘She yelled at him that that was proof that his excesses had all but killed her mother, and by the time Victor had got rid of the woman and made himself decent, she'd packed her little bag, whipped some money from the safe, and gone.'

‘Oh,' said Max.

‘Victor spent hundreds of pounds looking for her,' Anna went on. ‘And as soon as he found her, she skipped again. And he found her again, but – I know she's your wife, Max, but she is so ungrateful. She wouldn't even come to the ferry with us to say goodbye to her mother.'

Max was still looking stunned. ‘I know there are a lot of questions I should be asking,' he said. ‘But most of them I have to ask Catherine, and I don't want to think about them.' He smiled. ‘But you said you only met Holyoak six months ago. So how come you were going to a ferry with him before Catherine and I were even married?'

‘All right,' said Anna. She had known she could never keep up the lie about working for him for six months. ‘I've known Victor a long time,' she said. ‘He took me to Holland with him.'

‘You
and
his wife?'

‘We didn't travel as a party,' said Anna. ‘ But we were on the same ferry, yes.'

Max smiled. ‘So Zelda was right,' he said.

‘He's done everything he could think of to make it up to Catherine,' Anna said. ‘And he swore off women completely – he blames himself, thanks to Catherine.'

Max frowned. ‘You mean, you really
aren't
his mistress?'

‘No I'm not!' she said. ‘Max, I swear to you – he's given her and her mother everything they could ever want or need, he's tried everything he can think of to make her see sense. I mean – all right, she was only a kid when it happened – but my God, Max, if you knew the trouble he's gone to! She is a selfish—' She broke off. ‘ I'm sorry,' she said. ‘She's your wife. I shouldn't be saying these things. I'm sorry.'