Person or Persons Unknown (33 page)

He stood up abruptly and Rona stiffened, poised for flight, but he moved to the fireplace and leaned an arm on the mantle. Surreptitiously, she measured the distance to the door: escape was still out of reach.

When he began speaking again, his voice was harsher, flatter. ‘She told me her friend would be late home that evening, so it would be safe to call round. We could talk things over face to face, come to some arrangement.'

‘And couldn't you have done?' Rona asked.

He shook his head violently. ‘Once you start on that kind of thing, you're on a slippery slope; there's no saying where it will end. I just couldn't risk it. And when I still refused, she – threatened to contact Hester.'

Oh, Gemma! A fatal mistake. ‘So you decided to go after all.'

‘Only later, after she'd rung off. The more I thought about it, the more I panicked. I'd so much to lose – my career, perhaps my marriage. Then I remembered she'd be alone that evening; and it struck me that a chance like that might not come again.'

‘A chance to kill her,' Rona said in a whisper.

He didn't seem to have heard. ‘I was going to ring the bell, but I tried the handle and the door opened, so I went in. There was no sign of her in the kitchen or living room, then I heard sounds coming from the bathroom.' He paused, his breath becoming laboured. ‘And that door wasn't locked, either.'

There was a long silence. Rona was having difficulty breathing, each intake a sharp pain in her chest. God, the tragedy of it – the waste. What was it he'd said to her, the first time she'd met him and handed him his teenage manifesto?
Oh dear, is my past catching up with me?
Well, it had certainly caught up with him now.

James cleared his throat. ‘Afterwards – I had a quick look round to check there was nothing that might lead back to me. I couldn't see anything, so I – let myself out and – went home.'

‘And duly became a cabinet minister in Mrs Thatcher's government.'

‘As you say.'

‘And never spared a thought for your little daughter?'

He passed a hand over his face. ‘I did see her – while I was searching the flat. She was awake, and looked up at me with Gemma's eyes. It – freaked me, I can tell you.'

For a long time, neither of them spoke. Then Rona said, ‘Even if I'd worked out you were Gemma's lover – and you couldn't know I had – it didn't follow that I'd think you killed her.'

‘I was pretty sure you would.'

‘Because the lover's the most likely suspect?'

‘That's one reason.'

‘And the other?'

‘I had a sitting with Max yesterday. Did he tell you?'

‘No. Why is that relevant?'

He turned then to face her, and she didn't care for the look in his eyes. ‘Because,' he said slowly, ‘it came out that you'd met Selina O'Toole.'

Rona's hands went slowly to her mouth as she gazed at him in dawning horror. ‘
You tried to kill her, too?
'

He flinched. ‘I'd never met the woman, but Gemma often spoke about her and she'd always worried me. Once, a few years ago, she tried to interview me for some programme or other, but I backed down; I couldn't get it out of my head that she knew more than she'd said. But time went on and nothing happened, and I gradually relaxed. Until this bloody search began. It was like opening Pandora's box; first the article, then a letter connecting Selina with Gemma. I was afraid you'd contact her.'

‘I already had,' Rona said hoarsely.

‘I didn't know that. I reasoned that if you met, she'd start remembering things she'd not thought important at the time. So – it seemed best to prevent that meeting. Yes,' he added heavily, ‘I don't blame you for looking at me like that. I can't even face myself. God!' he said explosively, making Rona jump. ‘I've spent my life trying to deny what happened with Gemma, only to discover, when another crisis threatened, that I reacted in precisely the same way.'

He gave a twisted smile. ‘A prime example of the ruthless politician, intent only on furthering his career.'

‘They usually stop short of murder,' Rona said through dry lips.

‘Yes; well, at least it turned out not to be murder this time. No thanks to me, she survived.'

‘And Max told you I'd visited her in hospital?'

James nodded. ‘When I asked how your assignment was going. And that was what clinched it for me.'

Oh God!
she thought.
Oh God!

‘Which brings me to my third reason for coming here.' She watched, incapable of movement, as he reached into his pocket. What was he going to produce? A gun? A knife? A syringe? What actually appeared was an innocuous-looking envelope, though she stared at it as though it, too, might be lethal.

‘I felt you deserved to know the whole story. Well, now you have it. In return, I want you to do one last thing for me. Before I left home just now, I wrote three letters; one I sent to my solicitor, one I left for my wife, and this is the third. I'd like you to give it to my daughter.'

She stared at him as the sick fear began to recede, not daring to believe that she wasn't, after all, in mortal danger.

‘I'm not going to ask you about her – her current name, what she looks like, anything. It's better for me not to know. Just tell her – that I'm sorry.'

Rona's voice came as a whisper. ‘What are you going to do?'

‘Crash my car,' he said simply. ‘Into a brick wall, for preference, though in this fog it might be difficult to find one.'

‘But—'

‘I told you I can't live with myself any more; why should anyone else be expected to live with me?'

He held out the envelope, but when she made no move to take it, he laid it on the coffee table.

‘I'll let myself out,' he said.

She didn't argue; reaction had set in, and she was incapable of standing. As he crossed to the door, Gus opened one eye and thudded his tail sleepily on the rug. Out in the hall, James took down his coat, shrugged into it, and let himself out of the front door.

Rona was still sitting there when, twenty minutes later, Max's key sounded in the lock.