Authors: Minette Walters
'She was a foolish girl. She thought that because
I'm in a wheelchair she had nothing to fear from me,
when, of course, every bit of strength I have is in my
arms. It was Liam she was afraid of, but she should
have remembered that Liam hasn't been able to hurt
a fly these fifteen years.' She smiled as she released the
arm of her wheelchair and held it up. The two metal
prongs that located it in the chair's framework protruded
from each end. 'I can only shift myself to a
bed or a chair when this is removed, and it's been
lifted out that many times the ends are like razors.
Perhaps I'd not have brought it down on her wicked
head if she hadn't laughed and called us illiterate Irish
trash. Then again, perhaps I would. To be sure, I was
angry enough.'
'Why weren't you angry with Kevin?' he asked
curiously. 'He says he was only there that night
because he'd been paid to set fire to your house. Why
didn't you kill him, too? He's making no bones about
the fact that he and his friends have been terrorizing
you for months.'
'Do you think we didn't know that? Why would
we go back to Kilkenny Cottage in secret if it wasn't
to catch him and his friends red-handed and make you
coppers sit up and take notice of the fearful things
they've been doing to us these many months? As Liam said, fight fire with fire. Mind, that's not to say we
wanted to kill them - give them a shock, maybe.'
'But only Kevin turned up?'
She nodded. 'Poor greedy creature that he is.
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Would he share good money with his friends when a
single match would do the business? He came creeping
in with his petrol can and I've never seen a lad so frightened as when Liam slipped the noose about his
throat and called to me to switch on the light. We'd
strung it from the beams and the lad was caught like
a fly on a web. Did we tell you he wet himself?'
'No.'
'Well, he did. Pissed all over the floor in terror.'
'He's got an inch-wide rope burn round his neck,
Bridey. Liam must have pulled the noose pretty tight
for that, so perhaps Kevin thought you were going to
hang him?'
'Liam hasn't the strength to pull anything tight,'
she said matter-of-factly, slotting the chair arm back
into its frame. 'Not these fifteen years.'
'So you keep saying,' murmured the inspector.
'I expect Kevin will tell you he slipped and did it
himself. He was that frightened he could hardly keep
his feet, but at least it meant we knew he was telling
the truth. He could have named anybody . . . Mrs
Haversley ... Mr Jardine . . . but instead he told us it
was our niece who had promised him a hundred quid
if he'd burn Kilkenny Cottage down and get us out of
her hair for good.'
'Did he also say she had been orchestrating the
campaign against you?'
'Oh, yes,' she murmured, staring past him as her
mind replayed the scene in her head. ' "She calls you
thieving Irish trash," he said, "and hates you for your
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cheap, common ways and your poverty. She wants rid
of you from Sowerbridge because people will never
treat her right until you're gone."' She smiled slightly.
'So I told him I didn't blame her, that it can't have
been easy having her cousin arrested for murder and
her aunt and uncle treated like lepers - ' she paused to
stare at her hands - 'and he said Patrick's arrest had
nothing to do with it.'
'Did he explain what he meant?'
'That she'd hated us from the first day she met us.'
She shook her head. 'Though, to be sure, I don't
know what we did to make her think so badly of us.'
'You lied to your family, Bridey. We've spoken to
her brother. According to him, her mother filled her
head with stories about how rich you and Liam were
and how you'd sold your business in London to retire
to a beautiful cottage in a beautiful part of England. I
think the reality must have been a terrible disappointment
to her. According to her brother, she came over
from Ireland with dreams of meeting a wealthy man
and marrying him.'
'She was wicked through and through, Inspector,
and I'll not take any of her fault on me. I was honest
with her from the beginning. We are as you see us, I
said, because God saw fit to punish us for Liam and
Patrick's wrongdoing, but you'll never be embarrassed
by it because no one knows. We may not be as rich as
you hoped, but we're loving, and there'll always be a
home for you here if the job doesn't work out with
Mrs Lavenham.'
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'Now Mrs Lavenham's blaming herself, Bridey. She
says if she'd spent less time at the office and more
with Rosheen and the children, no one would have
died.'
Distress creased Bridey's forehead. 'It's always the
same when people abandon their religion. Without
God in their lives, they quickly lose sight of the devil.
Yet for you and me, Inspector, the devil exists in the
hearts of the wicked. Mrs Lavenham needs reminding
that it was Rosheen who betrayed this family . . . and
only Rosheen.'
'Because you gave her the means when you told
her about Patrick's conviction.'
The old woman's mouth thinned into a narrow
line. 'And she used it against him. Can you believe
that I never once questioned why those poor old
ladies were killed with Patrick's hammer? Would you
not think - knowing my boy was innocent - that I'd
have put two and two together and said, there's no
such thing as coincidence?'
'She was clever,' said the inspector. 'She made
everyone believe she was only interested in Kevin
Wyllie, and Kevin Wyllie had no reason on earth to
murder Mrs Fanshaw.'
'I have it in my heart to feel sorry for the poor lad
now,' said Bridey with a small laugh, 'never mind he
terrorized us for months. Rosheen showed her colours
soon enough when she came down after Liam's phone
call to find Kevin trussed up like a chicken on the
floor. That's when I saw the cunning in her eyes and
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realized for the first time what a schemer she was.
She tried to pretend Kevin was lying, but when she
saw we didn't believe her, she snatched the petrol can
from the table. "I'll make you burn in hell, you stupid,
incompetent bastard," she told him. "You've served
your purpose, made everyone think I was interested
in you when you're so far beneath me I wouldn't
have wasted a second glance on you if I hadn't had
to." Then she came towards me, unscrewing the lid
of the petrol can as she did so and slopping it over
my skirt. Bold as brass she was with her lighter in her
hand, telling Liam she'd set fire to me if he tried to
stop her phoning her fancy man to come and help
her.' Her eyes hardened at the memory. 'She couldn't
keep quiet, of course. Perhaps people can't when
they believe in their own cleverness. She told us
how gullible we were . . . what excitement she'd had
battering two old ladies to death . . . how besotted
Mr Jardine was with her . . . how easy it had been to
cast suspicion on a moron like Patrick . . . And when
Mr Jardine never answered because he was hiding
in his cellar, she turned on me in a fury and thrust
the lighter against my skirt, saying she'd burn us
all anyway. Kevin will get the blame, she said, even
though he'll be dead. Half the village knows he's
been sent down here to do the business.'
'And that's when you hit her?'
Bridey nodded. 'I certainly wasn't going to wait
for her to strike the flint, now was I?'
'And Kevin witnessed all this?'
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'He did indeed, and will say so at my trial if you
decide to prosecute me.'
The inspector smiled slightly. 'So who set the
house on fire, Bridey?'
'To be sure, it was Rosheen who did it. The petrol
spilled all over the floor as she fell and the lighter
sparked as it hit the quarry tiles.' A flicker of amusement
crossed her old face as she looked at him. 'Ask
young Kevin if you don't believe me.'
'I already have. He agrees with you. The only
trouble is, he breaks out in a muck sweat every time
the question's put to him.'
'And why wouldn't he? It was a terrible experience
for all of us.'
'So why didn't you go up in flames, Bridey? You
said your skirt was saturated with petrol.'
'Ah, well, do you not think that was God's doing?'
She crossed herself. 'Of course, it may have had
something to do with the fact that Kevin had managed
to free himself and was able to push me to the door
while Liam smothered the flames with his coat, but
for myself I count it a miracle.'
'You're lying through your teeth, Bridey. We think
Liam started the fire on purpose in order to hide
something.'
The old woman gave a cackle of laughter. 'Now
why would you think that, Inspector? What could two
poor cripples have done that they didn't want the
police to know about?' Her eyes narrowed. 'Never
mind a witch had tried to rob them of their only son?'
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Friday, 12 March 1999, 2.00p.m.
'Did you find out?' Siobhan asked the inspector.
He shrugged. 'We think Kevin had to watch a ritual
burning and is too terrified to admit to it because he's
the one who took the petrol there in the first place.'
He watched a look of disbelief cross Siobhan's face.
'Bridey called her a witch,' he reminded her.
Siobhan shook her head. 'And you think that's the
evidence Liam wanted to destroy?'
'Yes.'
She gave an unexpected laugh. 'You must think
the Irish are very backward, Inspector. Didn't ritual
burnings go out with the Middle Ages?' She paused,
unable to control her amusement. 'Are you going to
charge them with it? The press will love it if you do.
I can just imagine the headlines when the case comes
to trial.'
'No,' he said, watching her. 'Kevin's sticking to the
story Liam and Bridey taught him, and the pathologist's
suggestion that Rosheen was upright when she
died looks too damn flakey to take into court. At the
moment, we're accepting a plea of self-defence and
accidental arson.' He paused. 'Unless you know differently,
Mrs Lavenham.'
Her expression was unreadable. 'All I know,' she
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told him, 'is that Bridey could no more have burnt
her niece as a witch than she could get up out of her
wheelchair and walk. But don't go by what I say,
Inspector. I've been wrong about everything else.'
'Mm. Well, you're right. Their defence against
murder rests entirely on their disabilities.'
Siobhan seemed to lose interest and fell into a
thoughtful silence which the inspector was loath to
break. 'Was it Rosheen who told you Patrick had
stolen Lavinia's jewellery?' she demanded abruptly.
'Why do you ask?'
'Because I've never understood why you suddenly
concentrated all your efforts on him.'
'We found his fingerprints at the manor.'
'Along with mine and most of Sowerbridge's.'
'But yours aren't on file, Mrs Lavenham, and you
don't have a criminal record.'
'Neither should Patrick, Inspector, not if it's fifteen
years since he committed a crime. The English have a
strong sense of justice, and that means his slate should
have been wiped clean after seven years. Someone - '
she studied him curiously - 'must have pointed the
finger at him. I've never been able to work out who it
was, but perhaps it was you? Did you base your whole
case against him on privileged knowledge that you
acquired fifteen years ago in London? If so, you're a
shit.'
He was irritated enough to defend himself. 'He
boasted to Rosheen about how he'd got the better of
a senile old woman and showed her Mrs Fanshaw's
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"T4
jewellery to prove it. She said he was full of himself,
talked about how both old women were so gaga
they'd given him the run of the house in return for
doing some small maintenance jobs. She didn't say
Patrick had murdered them - she was too clever for
that - but when we questioned Patrick and he denied
ever being in the Manor House or knowing anything
about any stolen jewellery, we decided to search Kilkenny
Cottage and came up trumps.'
'Which is what Rosheen wanted.'
'We know that now, Mrs Lavenham, and if Patrick
had been straight with us from the beginning, it
might have been different then. But, unfortunately,
he wasn't. His difficulty was he had the old lady's
rings in his possession as well as the costume jewellery
that Miss Jenkins gave him. He knew perfectly well
he'd been palmed off with worthless glass, so he
hopped upstairs when Miss Jenkins's back was turned
and helped himself to something more valuable. He
claims Mrs Fanshaw was asleep so he just slipped the
rings off her fingers and tiptoed out again.'
'Did Bridey and Rosheen know he'd taken the
rings?'
'Yes, but he told them they were glass replicas which
had been in the box with the rest of the bits and pieces.
Rosheen knew differently, of course - she and Jardine
understood Patrick's psychology well enough to know
he'd steal something valuable the minute his earnings
were denied - but Bridey believed him.'
She nodded. 'Has Jeremy admitted his part in it?'
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