Past Praying For (38 page)

‘
Thank you very much, sir.’ Vezey tried not to sound heavily ironic, and failed. She didn’t have an alibi, but then she really didn’t have a motive either.

They
left, and went on to Laura Ferrars. James had been interviewed at his office, and had given a precise, lawyer’s account of Hayley Cutler’s contretemps with McEvoy. But he had been hesitant about what had happened after he went home, and his wife’s statement was a loose end Vezey wanted tidied up and out of the way. He had directed that Cutler should be taken to headquarters, and he was hopeful that he could have the whole thing tied up in pretty pink ribbon by the end of the afternoon.

Laura
Ferrars seemed somehow different. He was not a man who paid much attention to feminine appearance, but he had her filed as cool, well-groomed, understated. When last he had seen her she had been both nervous and defensive.

This
woman was none of these things. Her feet were bare; she was wearing jeans and a Garfield sweater which might have belonged to one of her children. Her hair, normally smooth and sleeked-down, looked as wild and fluffy as a dandelion clock. He had the impression that the appropriate expressions of concern for Elizabeth McEvoy cloaked an emotion that was almost elation, and he wanted to know why.

‘
We have reason to believe,’ he said brutally, ‘that some third person was involved in Piers McEvoy’s death. According to our information you bore him a considerable grudge because you believe he cost you a professional promotion which you coveted. Is that correct?’

Colour
stained her cheekbones, but she did not lose her composure. ‘Yes, I’m quite prepared to accept that’s a fair enough way to put it. I made one or two resolutions last night, and since one of them was not to fudge things any more, I have to say that the man was a wart on the face of humanity. I can’t think of anyone who won’t be better off without him.’

‘
That’s straight enough, anyway. And may I be equally direct, and ask you whether your sense of duty to humanity might have compelled you to run a barbecue skewer through his neck?’

This
was plain speaking with a vengeance. She had invited it, but even so recoiled instinctively.

Recovering
herself, she said, ‘Not my duty to humanity, no. At one stage, I’d probably have done it on my own account, if I’d had the guts. But as it happens, I didn’t.’

‘
And can your husband confirm your movements during the hours in question?’

For
the first time, she seemed flustered. ‘Well no, not really, I suppose. We had a bit of a row – no, that’s not true, and I said I would be honest, didn’t I? We had the mother and father of all rows, and he slept on the sofa in the sitting room, because he was scared I might throw something else at him if he came upstairs. So I daresay I could have got up and murdered half the population of Stretton Noble in their beds and he would have been none the wiser.’

So
she had no alibi either, and she had been more than frank about her motive. But somehow he couldn’t see it. He was very tired. He was looking forward to interviewing Hayley Cutler and getting it all wrapped up, but in deference to his exhaustion he let Jackie Boyd take the wheel on the journey back to district headquarters.

***

When he reached his office Robert Moon was waiting for him, looking disgustingly spruce. He was bathed, freshly shaved, and had the well-fed air of someone who has just consumed a farmhouse breakfast and lunch rolled into one. He looked up with concern as Rod Vezey came in, hollow-eyed and gaunt, with a day’s growth of stubble, and stumbled over a pile of files which had been left on the floor beside his desk.

‘
Good grief, you look terrible!’ Moon exclaimed. ‘Haven’t you had any sleep?’

Vezey
shook his head. ‘Soon,’ he said. ‘I’ve just got to sort out Hayley Cutler – they’ve picked her up for me, and she’s waiting for questioning downstairs. And after that I can sleep for twenty-four hours while some other poor sod gets it all down on paper, secure in the knowledge of a job well done. Are you coming with me to talk to her?’

‘
Hayley Cutler?’ Moon sounded startled. ‘Look, I think you’d better listen to this first, before you find yourself doing something you might regret.’

He
told Vezey what the Cutler children had said, and watched with considerable sympathy the doubt growing in his heavy eyes.

‘
But for God’s sake, man! It has to be her!’ He rubbed his hands over his face, as if he could wipe the tiredness away. ‘She’s the only one left – there just isn’t a case against either of the other two. Oh, you could argue back and forwards intellectually, but in fact it’s perfectly obvious that they’re non-starters. And you may well say that there are umpteen other women who fit your profile, but these are surely the only ones in the frame – ’

‘
Rod,’ Moon interrupted, ‘you really should get some sleep you know.’

‘
Oh, don’t waste my time! How can I, before I get a line on this? I’m the only person in possession of all the facts of the case.’

‘
You’re not in possession of all the facts of the case – or at least, I suppose you may be, but you’re certainly proceeding on entirely the wrong premise.

‘
I’m gratified to find you paying such slavish attention to my profile, but that was to help find Missy. And we’ve found her, remember? This – McEvoy’s murder – is an entirely new and separate crime.’

As
Vezey stared at him blankly, he continued, ‘You’re simply too tired to think clearly. Have a rest. The killer is most unlikely to strike again while you’re asleep.’

Blankness
had given way to despair. ‘If you think there’s the remotest chance that I could sleep, after that bombshell, you’re off your trolley. I’ll have to report to the super, and how can I say, “I’m sorry, sir, I’ve just wasted a day of the investigation and however many hundreds of pounds of the taxpayer’s money it is in barking up the wrong tree, and I haven’t the faintest idea where to go from here”?’

Robert
Moon sat back in his chair, folding his hands across his well-rounded stomach, and said gently, ‘Oh, I don’t think it’s as bad as that. That’s exhaustion talking. If you were in anything like your normal form, I’m sure you’d have realized that it’s all remarkably obvious, really.’

16

Patrick Bolton opened the door. Robert Moon, who was observing him minutely, thought he saw a dilation of the pupils of his eyes, but there was no other visible reaction beyond a natural surprise.

‘
Well, good afternoon, gentlemen. I must confess I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.’

‘
Just a few more questions, Sir, if you don’t mind.’

Rodney
Vezey had got his second wind; he had washed, shaved, had a cup of black coffee and a couple of sausage rolls and now looked, to his companion’s admiration, as if he were fit for another twenty-four hour stint.

A
frown crossed Bolton’s brow. ‘I did hope my wife could be left alone for the rest of the day, after cooperating with you so fully this morning,’ he said stiffly. ‘She’s very tired, you know, and I’ve persuaded her to go upstairs and lie down.’

Moon
saw Vezey smile. ‘Oh the shark has pretty teeth, dear...’ The line came irresistibly to mind.

‘
Not her, sir,’ he said genially. ‘You.’

There
was no mistaking the dilation of the pupils this time, but still the man did not flinch.

‘
Me? Well, in that case you’d better come in, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you.’

He
led the way through to the sitting room. ‘How is poor Elizabeth, do you know? The rumour mill has it that she’s having some kind of breakdown.’

Vezey
ignored him, striding ahead and taking control of the room by the force of his presence.

‘
May I sit down?’ he said, and did so without waiting for permission, choosing a hardback chair which would give him, seated, the highest position in the room.

The
tightening of Patrick’s lips betrayed his annoyance. ‘Please do,’ he said sarcastically, and sat down on the edge of one of the armchairs, as Robert stolidly seated himself in the other one opposite.

‘
We’re busy men, Mr Bolton, so I won’t waste time, yours or ours. Perhaps we could start by talking about your relationship with Mrs McEvoy. How long had it been going on?’

‘
Relationship? It was hardly that. I was sorry for her – very sorry, because though Piers was a good friend of mine I could never say he was a considerate husband. She is a gentle soul, very easily upset; she was crying last night when I went round to see if she was all right.’

‘
Wasn’t it a little strange to go round to see her when you knew her husband was out?’

Bolton
was gaining confidence. He obviously believed in his own ability to talk himself out of trouble, and Robert noted the body language as he sat back in the chair and crossed his legs. But he noted, too, the nervous plucking of his fingers at the pile of the chair fabric.

‘
No, absolutely not. Well, with hindsight I suppose it was a mistake, but at the time the whole point was that I was concerned about her being alone when she was so nervous. And then, of course, she started to cry, I had taken her hand to comfort her and in burst Suzanne.’

He
essayed a laugh. ‘Oh, I know it sounds like the classic joke, “And that, me lud, is the case for the defendant.” But ask Suzanne! She accepts that she misinterpreted the whole thing and with the stress she’s under she just went right over the top.’

He
smiled at Vezey. It was meant to be an easy, man-to-man smile, but his upper lip was fractionally curled back in the ape’s placation gesture.

Vezey
was implacable.

‘
Were you at all worried about Mr McEvoy’s reaction to the scratches on his wife’s face?’

Patrick
shifted uneasily. ‘Well, yes, I suppose I was. After all, I felt to a large extent responsible for my wife’s actions. I offered to stay and explain, but Lizzie felt this would only make matters worse.’

‘
Oh? For some reason she felt that her husband would find it hard to believe in this very innocent relationship? A difficult and unreasonable man, you would say?’

‘
Perhaps.’

Vezey
produced a notebook and made a show of consulting it, though to Robert’s certain knowledge he had made no notes on the information which he had so rapidly gathered about Patrick Bolton.

With
an abrupt, unsettling change of direction, he said, ‘You were in a nearby supermarket last Wednesday, the 27th. Is that right?’

‘
I – I may have been. It’s perfectly possible.’

‘
And you were observed in the coffee shop engrossed in an extremely intimate conversation with Mrs McEvoy. Was this another manifestation of your social conscience?’

The
shaft went home, and Bolton lost control of his temper.

‘
And what pernicious bastard sicked up that disgusting little piece of snooping?’

Robert
tried not to look conscious as Bolton raged on. ‘This is entirely ridiculous. I’ve tried to be patient, but I really don’t see why I should have to defend myself against what is simply the sort of gossip that people invent when they haven’t enough to do with their time.’

Vezey
let him bluster himself into silence, allowed the pause to lengthen, then said mildly, ‘Oh, I think you would be well-advised to cooperate. I’m trying to decide whether we should take you in for questioning straight away, or whether we can clear everything up in this little chat. It’s up to you.’

Bolton
’s outburst had shattered his facade of coolness, and it was not easy to establish it again. His eye movements became rapid in one of the classic signs of nervousness, and he moistened his lips.

‘
Look,’ he said at last, spreading his hands palm up in the gesture which denotes openness,’I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to lose my temper.

‘
Let me be completely frank about the whole thing. My “relationship” with Lizzie, as you choose to call it, amounted to precisely one cup of coffee and the visit which Suzanne interrupted. No affair, no secret assignations.

‘
I admit, I was very drawn to her. Suzanne and I, as she told you this morning, were going through a bad patch. She’s always been very competent, very self-sufficient, and I had felt, wrongly as I now know, that what she was telling me was that she could look after herself, that she didn’t need me.

‘
Lizzie was very sweet, very vulnerable.’ His voice softened instinctively. ‘She had a pretty tough time with Piers, and you couldn’t help but feel protective, which I did. But that was it; there you have it. Ask Lizzie; she told me herself that Suzanne needed me, and I must go to her. She can confirm that I left her right there in the sitting room and did just that.’