Jigsaw (33 page)

‘All I had to do then was wait for Pollard to be released. I was outside the prison when he came out, saw him get into a friend's car, and followed them back to his house. After that, I tailed him every day – to the job centre, to the bank – and to the pub. He went there every evening, and caught the ten thirty bus home. His routine never varied in the week I followed him; it was almost too easy.

‘There was a meeting of the Music Society coming up, so I wrote to Alan, pretending to be Pollard and asking him to meet me that evening, at just the time he'd be coming out of the pub. Then, the day before, I went back and helped myself to a knife from the Spencers' kitchen. I'd left it to the last minute, in case it was missed.'

In the silence that followed, Rona heard a tiny click as the tape recorder switched itself off. She'd forgotten all about it, and realized with a sense of shock that she'd recorded the entire confession. This was not, she felt, the moment to own up.

Richard slowly rose to his feet and helped Helena to hers. She stood listlessly, staring down at the ground. All the life seemed drained out of her and she looked like a beautiful doll.

Richard turned to Rona, and she was shocked by the change in his face; he seemed to have aged ten years in as many minutes.

‘Miss Parish, this is a total nightmare and I haven't even begun to take it in. However, it's clear I owe you a very sincere apology for what's just happened. Obviously, I hadn't the slightest inkling of what was going on – perhaps I should have had. I have, though, been increasingly worried over the last few weeks; Helena's always been highly strung, but her behaviour has become increasingly erratic. I was afraid she was heading for another breakdown.'

‘You tried to stop her coming this afternoon,' Rona said. ‘Why?'

‘Because her attitude towards you worried me. She said a couple of times, “That girl knows something.” And once she said, “She has to be stopped.” I'd no idea what she meant. As to this afternoon, I thought I'd dissuaded her, but as luck would have it, I glanced out of a window just as she was driving off. I knew you were going to Lammerden, so I came straight here and, since she went to collect you first, arrived ahead of you. Having searched the centre, I came out just in time to see the car shoot off through the village.' He turned to Dave. ‘I'm sorry, I don't think—'

‘Dave Lampeter,' Dave supplied. ‘I've been – helping Rona.'

‘I presume you followed me here?'

‘Yes. I was thrown when they drove into the car park and then straight out again, and by the time I reached the exit there was no sign of them. I was hesitating, wondering which way to go, when you drove quickly past me and turned left. I recognized you from the funeral and guessed you must be after them, so I tagged along. Not,' he added ruefully, ‘that I did much good; Rona diffused the situation herself.'

Richard nodded. ‘We'd better be getting back,' he said heavily.

Throughout these explanations Helena had stood docilely, eyes still downcast. Richard held out his hand to her, she took it as trustingly as a child, and they all retraced their steps to the waiting cars. Richard let Helena into the Daimler, then went to pull up the hood on the red sports car, with the comment that he'd send someone out to collect it. Magda's catalogue was still on the back seat, but Rona hadn't the heart to retrieve it.

She and Dave waited as Richard also got into his car, made a wide, sweeping turn, and, with a lift of his hand, set off back towards Buckford.

‘Poor bugger,' Dave said softly. ‘He really loves her, doesn't he?'

Rona nodded. Another part of the jigsaw she'd got wrong. ‘What'll happen to them, do you think?'

‘God knows.' Dave grinned suddenly. ‘But I sure would like to be a fly on the wall when your friend Barrett hears about all this!'

It had been a relief, when they arrived at the police station, to find CID too busy dealing with the Maddoxes to have time for them. Rona wrote the DI a brief note, explaining that she'd forgotten the tape was switched on, but if he could make use of it, he was welcome to do so. She doubted, since it had been recorded without Helena's knowledge, that it would be admissible evidence, but in all likelihood she'd have no objection to going over it again.

Back in her room, the first thing Rona did was to phone Lew Grayson at the
Courier.
‘I have a scoop for you,' she told him. ‘One good turn deserves another!'

Barrett would bless her for that, but she'd discharged any duty she might owe him, and Grayson's reception of the news was worth incurring further displeasure.

It wasn't until Will was in bed that she told Nuala and Jack the story. They were completely thunderstruck.

‘Mrs Maddox!' Nuala kept repeating, shaking her head. ‘I can't believe it! She was always so poised and in command of herself.'

‘At a cost,' Rona said soberly.

‘So Auntie was right after all. The lovers
did
have a connection with the murder.'

‘It wouldn't have made any difference, though, if she'd gone to the police,' Rona commented. ‘They'd never have believed her; look at the reception I got.'

Before going to bed, she phoned Max. ‘We've had quite a dramatic turn of events,' she told him.

‘Why aren't I surprised?'

‘I'll tell you about it tomorrow, but all is well.'

‘I'm glad to hear it; it seems pointless to tell you to take care.'

Rona laughed. ‘Oh, I will, I will.'

She was exhausted, she realized as she switched off the phone and started to undress; but although this was the last night she'd spend in this little room, her work here was far from finished. She'd still not been to St Stephen's, nor visited the court house, nor the
Courier
archives. As to what she
had
achieved, she thought sleepily as she climbed into bed, it was a mixed bag: she'd been wrong about Edna's death and about Richard Maddox, but at least she'd helped Beth and Alan Spencer, and Richard and Helena were not, thank God, her problem.

Which was not to say she hadn't others of her own: her father and Catherine Bishop; Lindsey and Hugh; even, perhaps, the fluttery Adele Yarborough, whose welfare so concerned Max. For the moment, though, all she wanted was to drift into sleep and forget the lot of them. Tomorrow, after all, was another day.