The Death Pictures (45 page)

‘OK,’ interrupted Adam softly. ‘After that you pressed the knife into Joseph’s hands to put his prints on there too, to make it look like a faked suicide. But you made sure you didn’t touch where Kid’s print was. I understand. You don’t have to go through all that. Then you came downstairs and left the house. And as Dan said, the shouting to Joseph was an act to convince your neighbour all was well and normal?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you left the door on the latch? So when Kid came round at 7.45, he would have got no answer to his knocks and calls. He would have gone in, as he’d done before when you’d been sitting outside in the garden and not heard him. He’d have looked around and then found Joseph dead?’

‘Yes.’

Adam nodded. It was just how Dan had imagined it.

‘How could you be so sure half an hour would be enough?’ Adam asked.

‘Joseph had done his research well. He always did. The hot bath aids the blood flow. It’s a classic suicide technique. He was already weak with the cancer and he was taking morphine too. Half an hour would be plenty. He also found out that fingerprints could linger for years if they’re not disturbed. That was the basis of the plan.’

‘And the bruises on his body?’

‘Caused by me, pulling him upstairs, then pushing him down in the bath in the way that Kid would have had to in order to kill him. It was all part of Joseph’s plan. He knew when suspicions were raised you’d have to do an autopsy and you’d find the bruises. He knew you’d be able to work out roughly when they were caused too, so he wanted them to be timed right.’

‘And the attempted break-in?’

‘The first one was done by me earlier that day, to give you a complication to make you suspicious. Joseph needed something to make sure you couldn’t just conclude it was suicide and leave it at that. He had to make you look twice, otherwise all the work would be wasted. My story was part of that, telling you that I was sure he would have told me if he planned to kill himself. And then, later, to mention what he intended to say to Kid about his copying the idea for the burger sculpture. But he wanted you to have your suspicions before I told you that, so you would never consider I might be deliberately leading you somewhere.’

‘And the other attempted break-in?’

‘The other one I have no idea about. Perhaps someone seeking a clue to the riddle? Or just an ordinary burglar? I don’t know, but it had nothing to do with me.’

Dan believed her, had guessed that was the case. It didn’t seem to fit in anywhere. The rest of the plan was brilliant, he had to admit it. It was a work of criminal genius. And to do all that, and then leave the answer behind in the form of a riddle too, convinced you’d made it so cryptic that no one could solve it. It was brilliant.

‘Did Joseph plan to take his own life at the end?’ Adam asked.

‘Yes, he did. He wanted to be in control, to decide when to go, when the pain and the weakness got too much for him. He thought it gave him some small victory over death, to decide his own moment. That was very him. He liked to be in control.’

‘And I’m guessing he’d looked at murder cases in this area and seen how long they take to come to court? He’d have found about six months, and so put that time limit on the riddle?’

‘Yes,’ Abi replied proudly. ‘It was the one thing he was concerned about in the whole plan, the delays in the justice system. But he even got that one right too, didn’t he? Perhaps he deserved to,’ she added falteringly.

Dan had to fight back a flourishing admiration for Joseph McCluskey. There were more questions he needed to ask.

‘Abi, the talc? Knowing what I now do of Joseph, I don’t think he would have left anything to chance. Kid’s print on that knife was fundamental to the plan. Was the talc used to dust over it, to check the print was there?’

She looked at him, flicked at her hair.

‘Yes. He sprinkled a little powder on the knife handle and it showed the print was there. As you say, he needed to be sure.’

One more thing was bothering Dan, one final question.

‘That story about Joseph having the idea for the sculpture which Kid then stole. Was that true?’

‘No. Joseph thought Kid was a very fine artist who didn’t need his help. No, that was just a way of giving Kid a motive. It was another of Joseph’s ideas to make the plot more secure. He knew you’d ask for a motive, otherwise there’d always be that question – why kill a man who was already dying? – so he gave you one. Kid would of course deny it when you interviewed him, but Joseph knew you’d conclude he was lying to cover up his crime. The fingerprint would give you all the evidence you’d need.’

Adam hadn’t finished, clearly wanted this part of the investigation to be watertight. He looked flushed and Dan could feel his irritation and embarrassment at the case collapsing. Being conned in fact, if he was honest. But hadn’t they all been? And not just them, but the people all around the world who’d been trying to solve the riddle of The Death Pictures. The moment someone cracked it, the framing of Kid would have failed. McCluskey must have been very sure of himself, very sure indeed.

‘Abi, I’m bound to say that what you’re telling us all fits together very neatly, but have you any corroboration for it?’ asked Adam. ‘I do have to question whether you in fact were the prime mover in this, and your story is just a device to cover you.’

Dan had expected an angry reaction, but a kindly smile returned to her face.

‘Joseph expected that too, Mr Breen. He could see how it might look, with him not being here to talk to you. But he even found a way to do that. He said he’d make sure it would be clear the idea was his. You’ll find, when we open that safety deposit box with the answer to the riddle inside, that there’s also a letter from him detailing exactly how we went about framing Kid. The bank manager has signed a paper testifying when the box was sealed and what documents were in it – without seeing their contents of course – and he’ll tell you it hasn’t been touched since.’

‘We’ll have a look at that later then,’ said Adam. His voice was flat, neutral, and Dan couldn’t read what he was thinking. ‘Well, I think that’s enough for now,’ the detective continued. ‘I’ll have to tell the judge all that you’ve told us, and Mr Kiddey will be freed from custody. I’m also obliged to warn you that you are facing charges of perjury and conspiracy, very serious crimes, Abi.’

‘Yes, I realise that, Mr Breen. I’ve been through it in my mind many times and I’ve searched my conscience, but I’m content I did the right thing. I had to go along with Joseph’s last wishes. He was my husband and a just man, Chief Inspector. A just and extraordinary man.’

Adam said nothing, surprising Dan. He’d expected some rejoinder, but none came. The detective looked as though he was drifting in his thoughts.

Abi got up from her chair.

‘Just one final thing, if I may?’ she said. Adam shrugged.

‘It was to ask you something, Dan. What did you think of Joseph?’

His mind spun. What a question. What did he think? Incredibly clever, hugely talented, wonderfully vain, extraordinarily conceited, richly arrogant, but with something he couldn’t help but admire so very much.

‘I think he was an utterly remarkable man, Abi. A remarkable man who I wish I’d had the chance to know better.’

She smiled again, her face lifting and lightening.

‘Thank you, Dan. Thank you. That would mean a lot to him. And I’m glad it’ll be you who gets the final painting. It feels right, somehow.

Court reconvened at two o’clock. Dan and Adam had stood in Judge Lawless’s chambers and recounted their interview with Abi. He’d showed no emotion and made no comment. He’d called the prosecution and defence barristers in and they had agreed what would happen. They had no real choice.

‘All stand,’ called the usher, as Lawless stalked in to the court. He looked even grimmer than usual now, as if his own personal storm clouds were following him.

In the dock, Lewis Kiddey stood, visibly shaking. His eyes were fixed on the judge as he settled himself in his chair. He’d have been told what was going to unfold now, Dan knew that, but he wondered whether Kid could comprehend it. After six months in prison, awaiting trial for a crime he didn’t commit, it must be hard to believe he was about to be freed, completely exonerated. He looked pale as Judge Lawless addressed him.

‘Lewis Kiddey, this morning new evidence came to light which has a profound effect on the case against you. I cannot go into details as there may yet be another trial based on that evidence.’ Abi, thought Dan, looking around at her in the public gallery. She sat, her eyes closed, seemed to be swaying a little from side to side.

‘But it will not be a trial of you, Mr Kiddey,’ continued the Judge. ‘You are an innocent man and this case against you is now at an end. I am formally entering a verdict of not guilty and you will leave the court a free man, with no stain whatsoever upon your character. You may go.’

Gasps ran around the court, seemed to chase each other across the wooden panels. The journalists scribbled furiously. All eyes turned to Kid.

He sagged forwards, pressed his palms against the plate glass of the dock to steady himself. He looked disbelievingly around the court at the silent faces, all staring at him. Beside him, a security guard broke the silence as he ground a key into the heavy metal lock of the dock’s glass door. He swung it open and stood aside.

Kid gaped for a moment at the open door, the symbol of his innocence. He took one faltering step, then another, haltingly walked out into the courtroom. He drew in a deep breath, as though savouring the air of freedom. He was just a couple of feet away, and Dan edged over and offered his hand. Kid shook it vaguely, uncertainly.

‘Mr Kiddey,’ said Dan quickly, pressing his card into the man’s limp and trembling grip. ‘My congratulations.’ Kid’s legal team, robed barristers, suited solicitors, were bearing down on him. He knew he had only seconds before the man was taken away. ‘Here’s my number. Please give me a call later on.’

Kiddey looked uncertain, his mouth hanging open. This was no time to be unusually modest, not if you want the scoop of your career, Dan thought. ‘It was me who solved the riddle and got you freed today, Lewis,’ he said. ‘I did it. I saved you. I think when your lawyers have explained what’s happened, you’ll want a word. Please, call me as soon as you can. My number’s on the card.’

‘What?’ shrieked Lizzie when Dan got back to the office and explained what had happened. ‘I don’t believe it. Bloody what?!’

He could see she didn’t know how to react, a three-inch heel piercing the carpet, but her eyebrow in a peak too, quite a clash of emotions for her. An amazing story, yes, but the chance of another couple of sweet days of the trial gone too. And he’d only got to the collapse of the court case so far. Dan hadn’t yet told her about solving the Death Pictures riddle, nor that call from Kid, so gushingly full of thanks, sobbing with relief. Yes, of course he would be interviewed live on
Wessex Tonight
, he’d be delighted. Of course as an exclusive, anything for the man who saved him.

No one had ever called Dan their saviour before and he wasn’t sure what to say. It didn’t feel quite right.

‘I want most of the programme on it,’ Lizzie gasped breathlessly when he’d finished recounting the story. ‘No, make that all the programme! I want you to cut a report about everything that happened today. I want all the background to the Death Pictures riddle. I want you live in the studio to explain how you solved the mystery. I want Kid there with you. I want emotion. I want to see him break down in tears and thank you. I want us to call the TV awards panel and make sure they’re watching. This will be our finest hour. Oh my God, I can see the ratings now...’

It was a frantic afternoon, pulling together all she wanted, but Dan had enjoyed it immensely. He was flying in fact, all thoughts of the swamp banished, for now at least. When Lizzie left the newsroom for a meeting, he even had time to put in a call to the Nowhere Inn, a delightful fourteenth century place in the hilly countryside near Exeter. It was renowned for its food and drink and welcomed dogs too. Dan booked the best room for him and Claire for Saturday night. He thought they deserved it.

‘What time would you like a table for, sir?’ they’d asked.

‘What time does the bar open?’

‘Six, sir.’

‘Six then please.’

There was one delicate call to make, to Adam. He’d expected to find the detective angry or at least sullen, but he was surprised.

‘Hi, Dan, or should I say, Inspector Dan? You’re getting pretty good at cracking these mysteries, aren’t you? That’s two out of two now with the Bray case. Not a bad success rate.’

‘Thanks, mate, but all I was doing was trying to line my pockets and get myself a nice picture for my wall.’

‘Balls. It was the challenge that got you. You couldn’t bear to think of someone being able to outwit you.’

How well he knows me, Dan thought. Time to tell him about Claire, while he’s in a good mood? No, don’t spoil it. Another day.

‘You’re remarkably chirpy given what we’ve been through this morning,’ Dan said.

‘There’s nothing to bother me there. I did my job and came to the best conclusion I could with the evidence I had. I shouldn’t say this, but it was a brilliant piece of deception by McCluskey. It took everyone in. The other detectives who worked the case with me agree, as even do the High Honchos. They’re delighted there’ll be no media criticism of the force. You hacks are all too bound up in the puzzle finally being solved. We did everything we could. It was only when you cracked the riddle that we saw what really went on.’