Authors: Minette Walters
'f
'Not yet,' murmured the inspector dryly, 'but he f i
will. He's a man without scruples. He recognized a j
fellow traveller in Rosheen, seduced her with promises 1
of marriage, then persuaded her to kill his grand "<
mother and her nurse so that he could inherit. Rosheen
didn't need an alibi - she was never even
questioned about where she was that night because
you all assumed she was with Kevin.' I
*i
'On the principle that shagging Kevin was the only |
thing that interested her,' agreed Siobhan. 'She was clever, you know. No one suspected for a minute that r
she was having an affair with Jeremy. Cynthia Haver
si ey thought she was a common little tart. Ian thought j!
Kevin was taking advantage of her. / thought she was
having a good time.'
'She was. She had her future mapped out as Lady
of the Manor once Patrick was convicted and Jardine
inherited the damn place. Apparently, her one ambition
in life was to lord it over Liam and Bridey. If you're
interested, Mrs Haversley is surprisingly sympathetic
towards her.' He lifted a cynical eyebrow. 'She says
she recognizes how easy it must have been for a
degenerate like Jardine to manipulate an unsophisticated
country girl when he had no trouble persuading sophisticated - ' he drew quote marks in the air - 'types
like her and Mr Haversley to believe whatever he told
them.'
Siobhan smiled. 'I'm growing quite fond of her in
a funny sort of way. It's like fighting your way through
a blackened baked potato. The outside's revolting but
110
the inside's delicious and rather soft.' Her eyes strayed
towards the window, searching for some distant
horizon. 'The odd thing is, Nora Bentley told me
on Monday that it was a pity I'd never seen the kind
side of Cynthia . . . and I had the bloody nerve to say
I didn't want to. God, how I wish--' She broke off
abruptly, unwilling to reveal too much of the anguish
that still churned inside her. 'Why did Liam and
Bridey take Kevin with them?' she asked next.
'According to him, they all panicked. He was scared
he'd get the blame for burning the house down with
Rosheen in it if he stayed behind, and they \\zrz scared
the police would think they'd done it on purpose to
prejudice Patrick's trial. He claims he left them when
they got to Liverpool because he has a friend up there
he hadn't seen for ages.'
'And according to you?'
'We don't think he had any choice. We think Liam
dragged him by the noose round his neck and only
released him when they were sure he'd stick by the
story they'd concocted.'
'Why were Liam and Bridey going to Ireland?'
'According to them, or according to us?'
'According to them.'
'Because they were frightened . . . because they
knew it would take time for the truth to come out. . .
because they had nowhere else to go ... because
everything they owned had been destroyed . . .
because Ireland was home . . .'
'And according to you?'
Ill
'They guessed Kevin would start to talk as soon as
he got over his fright, so they decided to run.'
She gave a low laugh. 'You can't have it both ways,
Inspector. If they released him because they were
sure he'd stick by the story, then they didn't need to
run. And if they knew they could never be sure of him
- as they most certainly should have done if they'd
performed a ritual murder - he would have died with
Rosheen.'
'Then what are they trying to hide?'
She was amazed he couldn't see it. 'Probably
nothing,' she hedged. 'You're just in the habit of
never believing anything they say.'
He gave a stubborn shake of his head. 'No, there is something. I've known them too long not to know
when they're lying.'
He would go on until he found out, she thought.
He was that kind of man. And when he did, his
suspicion about Rosheen's death would immediately
raise its ugly head again. Unless . . . 'The trouble
with the O'Riordans,' she said, 'is that they can never
see the wood for the trees. Patrick's just spent nine
months on remand because he was more afraid of
being charged with what he had done . . . theft . . .
than what he hadn't done . . . murder. I suspect Liam
and Bridey are doing the same - desperately trying to
hide the crime they have committed, without realizing
they're digging an even bigger hole for themselves
for the one they haven't.'
'Go on.'
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Siobhan's eyes twinkled as mischievously as Bridey's
had done. 'Off the record?' she asked him. 'I
won't say another word otherwise.'
'Can they be charged with it?'
'Oh, yes, but I doubt it'll trouble your conscience
much if you don't report it.'
He was too curious not to give her the go-ahead.
'Off the record,' he agreed.
'All right, I think it goes something like this. Liam
and Bridey have been living off the English taxpayer
for fifteen years. They got disability benefit for his
paralysed arm, disability benefit for her broken pelvis,
and Patrick gets a care allowance for looking after
both of them. They get mobility allowances, heating
allowances and anything else you can think of.' She
tipped her forefinger at him. 'But Kevin's built like a
gorilla and prides himself on his physique, and Rosheen
was as tall as I am. So how did a couple of elderly
cripples manage to overpower both of them?'
'You tell me.'
'At a guess, Liam wielded his useless arm to hold
them in a bear hug while Bridey leapt up out of her
chair to tie them up. Bridey would call it a miracle
cure. Social services would call it deliberate fraud. It
depends how easily you think English doctors can be
fooled by professional malingerers.'
He was visibly shocked. 'Are you saying Patrick
never disabled either of them?'
Her rich laughter peeled round the room. 'He
must have done at the time. You can't fake a shattered
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wrist and a broken pelvis, but I'm guessing Liam and
Bridey probably prolonged their own agony in order
to milk sympathy and money out of the system.' She canted her head to one side. 'Don't you find it
interesting that they decided to move away from the
doctors who'd been treating them in London to hide
themselves in the wilds of Hampshire where the only
person competent to sign their benefit forms is - er medically
speaking - well, past his sell-by date? You've
met Sam Bentley. Do you seriously think it would
ever occur to him to question whether two people
who'd been registered disabled by a leading London
hospital were ripping off the English taxpayer?'
'Jesus!' He shook his head. 'But why did they need
to burn the house down? What would we have found
that was so incriminating? Apart from Rosheen's body,
of course.'
'Sets of fingerprints from Liam's right hand all over
the door knobs?' Siobhan suggested. 'The marks of
Bridey's shoes on the kitchen floor? However Rosheen
died - whether in self-defence or not - they couldn't
afford to report it because you'd have sealed off
Kilkenny Cottage immediately while you tried to work
out what happened.'
The inspector looked interested. 'And it wouldn't
have taken us long to realize that neither of them is as
disabled as they claim to be.'
'No.'
'And we'd have arrested them immediately on
suspicion of murder.'
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She nodded. 'Just as you did Patrick.'
He acknowledged the point with a grudging smile.
'Do you know all this for a fact, Mrs Lavenham?'
'No,' she replied. 'Just guessing. And I'm certainly
not going to repeat it in court. It's irrelevant anyway.
The evidence went up in flames.'
'Not if I get a doctor to certify they're as agile as
lam.'
'That doesn't prove they were agile before the
fire,' she pointed out. 'Bridey will find a specialist to
quote psychosomatic paralysis at you, and Sam Bent
ley's never going to admit to being fooled by a couple
of malingerers.' She chuckled. 'Neither will Cynthia
Haversley, if it comes to that. She's been watching
them out of her window for years, and she's never
suspected a thing. In any case, Bridey's a great believer
in miracles, and she's already told you it was God who
rescued them from the inferno.'
'She must think I'm an absolute idiot.'
'Not you personally. Just your ... er ... kind.'
He frowned ominously. 'What's that supposed to
mean?'
Siobhan studied him with amusement. 'The Irish
have been getting the better of the English for
centuries, Inspector.' She watched his eyes narrow
in instinctive denial. 'And if the English weren't so
blinded by their own self-importance,' she finished
mischievously, 'they might have noticed.'