The Breaker (26 page)

Polly repeated the gesture of rubbing her thumb and fingers together. "Dosh," she said. "Purdy's got a wife and three grown-up children, all of whom would have demanded their cut before Kate got a look in." She pulled a wry face. "Like I said, what she really wanted was an unmarried guy without children. She reckoned if she was going to have to bust a gut to make some plonker happy, she wanted access to everything he owned."

Galbraith shook his head in perplexity. "Then why bother with Purdy at all?"

She hooked her arm over the sofa again and thrust her tits into his face. "She didn't have a father, did she? Any more than I do."

"So?"

"She had a thing about older men." She opened her eyes wide in flirtatious invitation. "Me, too, if you're interested."

Galbraith chuckled. "Do you eat them alive?"

She looked pointedly at his fly. "I swallow them whole," she said with a laugh.

He shook his head in amusement. "You were telling me why Kate bothered with Purdy," he reminded her.

"He was the boss," she said, "the guy with the loot. She thought she'd take him for a few bob, get him to pay for improvements on her flat, while she looked around for something better. The trouble was, she didn't reckon on him getting as smitten as he did, so the only way to get rid of him was to be cruel. She wanted security, not love, you see, and she didn't think she'd get it from Purdy, not after his wife and children had taken their slice. He was thirty years older than she was, remember. Also, he didn't want any more kids, and that was all she really wanted, kids of her own. She was pretty screwed up in some ways, I guess because she'd had a tough time growing up."

"Did William know about her affair with Purdy?"

Polly shook her head. "No one knew except me. That's why she swore me to secrecy. She said William would call the wedding off if he ever found out."

"Would he have done?"

"Oh, for sure. Look, he was thirty-seven years old, and he wasn't the marrying kind. Wendy Plater nearly got him up to scratch once till Kate put a spanner in the works by telling him she was a lush. He dumped her so quick, you wouldn't believe." She smiled reminiscently. "Kate practically had to put a ring through his nose to get him to the registry office. It might have been different if his mother had approved, but old Ma Sumner and Will were like a couple of old folks, and Kate had to work her socks off every night to make sex more attractive to the silly sod than having his laundry done on a regular basis."

"Was it true about Wendy Plater?"

Polly looked uncomfortable again. "She gets drunk sometimes but not on a regular basis. Still, as Kate said, if Will had wanted to marry her, he wouldn't have believed it, would he? He just seized on the first good excuse to get out."

Galbraith looked down at Kate Sumner's childish writing in the draft letter she'd written to Polly and wondered about the nature of ruthlessness. "Did the affair with Purdy continue after she married William?"

"No," said Polly with conviction. "Once Kate made up her mind to something, that was it."

"Would that stop her having an affair with someone else? Let's say she was bored with William and met someone younger-would she have been unfaithful in those circumstances?"

Polly shrugged. "I don't know. I sort of thought she might have something going because she hadn't bothered to phone me for ages, but that doesn't mean she did. It wouldn't have been serious, anyway. She was pleased as punch about moving to Lymington and getting a decent house, and I can't see her giving all that up very easily."

Galbraith nodded. "Have you ever known her to use feces as a means of revenge?"

"What the hell's fee-sees?"

"Crap," Galbraith explained obligingly, "turds, dung, number twos."

"Shit!"

"Exactly. Have you ever known her to smear crap over anyone's belongings?"

Polly giggled. "No. She was much too prissy to do anything like that. A bit of a hygiene freak, actually. When Hannah was a baby she used to swab the kitchen down every day with Dettol in case there were any germs. I told her she was crazy-I mean germs are everywhere, aren't they-but she still went on doing it. I can't see her touching a turd in a million years. She used to hold Hannah's nappies at arm's length after she'd changed her."

Curiouser and curiouser, thought Galbraith. "Okay. Give me a rough idea of the timetable. How soon after she told Purdy she was going to marry William did the wedding actually take place?"

"I can't remember. A month maybe."

He did a quick calculation in his head. "So if Purdy was off for three months, then it was two months after the wedding that she left work because she was pregnant?"

"Something like that."

"And how pregnant was she, Polly? Two months? Three months? Four months?"

A resigned expression crossed the young woman's face. "She said as long as it looked like her it wouldn't matter, because William was so besotted he'd believe anything she told him." She read Galbraith's expression correctly as one of contempt. "She didn't do it out of malice. Just desperation. She knew what it was like to grow up in poverty."
 

Celia's adamant refusal to go with Harding in the helicopter and her inability to bend at the hip meant that she was going to either have to walk home in extreme pain or travel flat on her back on the floor of Ingram's Jeep, which was full of oilskins, waders, and fishing tackle. With a wry smile he cleared a space and bent to pick her up. However, she was even more adamant in her refusal to be carried. "I'm not a child," she snapped.

"I don't see how else we can do it, Mrs. Jenner," he pointed out, "not unless you slide in on your front and lie facedown where I usually put my fish."

"I suppose you think that's funny."

"Merely accurate. I'm afraid it's going to be painful whatever we do."

She looked at the uncomfortable, ridged floor and gave in with bad grace. "Just don't make a meal of it," she said crossly. "I hate fuss."

"I know." He scooped her into his arms and leaned into the Jeep to deposit her carefully on the floor. "It's going to be a bumpy ride," he warned, packing the oilskins around her as wadding. "You'd better shout if it gets too much for you, and I'll stop."

It was already too much, but she had no intention of telling him so. "I'm worried about Maggie," she said through gritted teeth. "She ought to be back by now."

"She'll have led Stinger toward the stables not away from them," he told her.

"Are you ever wrong about anything?" she asked acidly.

"Not where your daughter's knowledge of horses is concerned," he answered. "I have faith in her, and so should you." He shut the door on her and climbed in behind the wheel. "I'll apologize in advance," he called as he started the engine.

"What for?"

"The lousy suspension," he murmured, letting out the clutch and setting off at a snail's pace across the chewed-up turf of the valley. She didn't make a sound the entire way back, and he smiled to himself as he drew into the Broxton House drive. Whatever else she was, Celia Jenner was a gutsy lady, and he admired her for it.

He opened the back door. "Still alive?" he asked, reaching in for her.

She was gray with pain and fatigue, but it took more than a bumpy ride to kill the spark. "You're a very irritating young man," she muttered, as she clamped her arm around his neck again and grunted with pain as he shifted her along the floor. "But you were right about Martin Grant," she admitted grudgingly, "and I've always regretted that I didn't listen to you. Does that please you?"

"No."

"Why not? Maggie would tell you it's the closest I'll ever come to an apology."

He smiled slightly, hefting her against his chest and stepping away from the Jeep. "Is being stubborn something to be proud of?"

"I'm not stubborn, I'm principled."

"Well, if you weren't so"- he grinned at her-"principled, you'd be in the Poole hospital by now getting proper treatment."

"You should always call a spade a spade," she said crossly. "And, frankly, if I was half as stubborn as you seem to think I am, I wouldn't even be in this condition. I object to having my arse mentioned over the telephone."

"Do you want
another
apology?"

She looked up and caught his eye, then looked away again. "For goodness sake, put me down," she said. "This is so undignified in a woman of my age. What would my daughter say if she saw me like this?"

He took no notice of her and strode across the weed-strewn gravel toward her front door, only lowering her to the ground when he heard the sound of running feet. Maggie, flustered and breathless, appeared around the cornet of the house, a walking stick in each hand. She handed them to her mother. "She's not allowed to ride," she told Nick, bending over to catch her breath. "Doctor's orders. But thank God she never takes anyone's advice. I couldn'l have managed on my own, and I certainly couldn't have got Stinger back without Sir Jasper."

Nick held supporting hands under Celia's elbows while she balanced herself on the sticks. "You should have told me to get stuffed," he said.

She inched forward on her sticks like a large crab. "Don't be ridiculous," she muttered irritably. "That's the mistake I made last time."
 

*18*

STATEMENT

Witness: James Purdy, Managing Director, Pharmatec UK
Interviewer: DI Galbraith

Sometime during the summer of 1993, I was working late in the office. As far as I was aware, everyone else had left the premises. On my way out at approximately 9:00 p.m., I noticed a light shining in an office at the end of the corridor. The office belonged to Kate Hill, secretary to the services manager, Michael Sprate, and, because I was impressed by the fact that she was working late, I went in to commend her on her commitment. She had been drawn to my attention when she first joined the company because of her size. She was slim and small with blond hair and remarkable blue eyes. I found her very attractive, but that was not my reason for going into her office that night. She had never given any indication that she was interested in me. I was surprised and flattered, therefore, when she got up from her desk and said she had stayed late in the hope that I would come in.

I am not proud of what happened next. I'm fifty-eight years old, and I've been married thirty-three years, and no one has ever done to me what Kate did that night. I know it sounds absurd, but it's the sort of thing most men dream of: that they'll walk into a room one day and a beautiful woman, for no reason at all, will offer them sex. I was extremely worried afterward because I assumed she must have had an ulterior motive for doing it. I spent the next few days in fear. At the very least I expected her to take liberties in her dealings with me; at the worst I expected some sort of blackmail attempt. However, she was extremely discreet, asked nothing in return, and was always polite whenever I saw her. When I realized there was nothing to fear, I became obsessed with her and dreamed about her night after night.

Some two weeks later, she was again in her office when I passed, and the experience was repeated. I asked her why and she said: "Because I want to." From that moment on, there was nothing I could do to control myself. In some ways, she is the most beautiful thing that has ever happened in my life, and I do not regret one moment of our affair. In other ways, I look back on it as a nightmare. I did not believe hearts could be broken, but mine was broken several times by Kate, never more so than when I heard she was dead.

Our affair continued for several months, until January 1994. For the most part it was conducted in Kate's flat, although once or twice, under the guise of business trips, I took her to hotels in London. I was prepared to divorce my wife in order to marry Kate, even though I have always loved my wife and would never do anything willingly to hurt her. I can only describe Kate as a fever in the blood that temporarily upset my equilibrium, because once exorcized, I was able to return to normal.

On a Friday at the end of January 1994, Kate came into my office at about 3:30 p.m. and told me she was going to marry William Sumner. I was terribly distressed and remember little of what happened next. I know I passed out, and when I came around again I was in the hospital. I was told I had had a minor heart attack. I have since confessed to my wife everything that happened.

As far as I am aware, William Sumner knows nothing about my relations with Kate before their marriage. I have certainly not told him, nor have I led him to believe that we were even remotely friendly. It did occur to me that his daughter might be mine, but I have never mentioned it to anyone as I would not lay claim to the child.

I can confirm that I have had no contact with Kate Hill-Sumner since the day in January 1994 when she told me of her decision to marry William Sumner.

James Purdy
 

STATEMENT

Witness: Vivienne Purdy, The Gables, Drew Street, Fareham
Interviewer: DI Galbraith

I first learned of my husband's affair with Kate Hill some four weeks after his heart attack in January 1994.1 cannot remember the precise date, but it was either the day she married William Sumner or the day after. I found James in tears, and I was worried because he had been making such good progress. He told me he was crying because his heart was breaking, and he went on to explain why.