‘Me, too.’
The first swans arrived and glided between the body and the bank, ignoring the grim presence of death, intent only on getting fed. Others were converging fast.
Jo said, ‘Do you want out, or are we staying here in full view of all the curtain-twitchers?’
Without more being said, they turned from the scene and walked briskly back to the car. Jo started up and drove the short distance to the turning point at the sailing club. They were soon back on the A259 heading for Chichester.
Conscience was a third passenger sitting between them.
‘What about your boss?’ Jo said, trying to shake off the guilt. ‘Where does he fit into this?’
‘Mr Cartwright?’
‘He was last seen going off with Fiona on Friday and he hasn’t been at work since. Don’t you think he might have something to do with it?’
Gemma took a sharp breath. ‘Wow! You’re way ahead of me.’
For once, Jo was, and it gave satisfaction. ‘He’s the one with questions to answer, isn’t he?’
The accident theory slipped out of the reckoning and Gemma was only too ready to speculate. ‘Maybe she overplayed her hand with him and demanded too much, like… like a share of the firm’s profits. He wasn’t having it and got rid of her.’
‘Is he the violent type?’
‘I’ve never thought of him like that.’
‘I know. You said he was nice, but there’s obviously a selfish side to him. Even the so-called nice ones have a snapping point.’
‘Dead right. All his schmoozing never impressed me. I’ve often wondered what would happen if push came to shove.’
‘Ho-hum.’
‘It’s an expression.’
‘I know. Fiona got the push.’
‘Don’t! I’m starting to believe this. Where is he now?’
‘Gone abroad, I should think.’ For a change it was Jo who embroidered the theory. ‘He’d want to put some distance between himself and the crime. He knows she’ll be found in the Mill Pond and he’ll hope it’s seen as an accident, something like we assumed when we saw her. He’ll have kidded himself nobody knows about the affair with her.’
‘He’s wrong about that.’
‘Yes, but we’re not saying anything yet.’ She was surprising herself by finding extra strength while Gemma’s confidence ebbed. ‘Let’s see how this pans out. Soon enough you’ll have the fuzz crawling all over your office. When they start asking questions that’s the time to let them know what you noticed. Not before. Don’t volunteer anything.’
‘You’re bloody good in a crisis.’
‘Trying to be sensible, that’s all. Do you want me to drop you at the print works?’
‘I need a drink to steady me.’
‘All right. Let’s find a quiet pub.’
They called at the Cricketers on the Chichester Road and had the public bar all to themselves. Gemma ordered a gin and tonic. Jo was content with a lemonade and lime. She wanted to think straight.
‘Are you still seeing Rick?’
‘On and off. Well, yes, actually,’ Gemma said.
‘It wouldn’t be such a good idea to tell him-or anyone else- about this afternoon. Let’s have a pact, shall we? What we saw in the Mill Pond is strictly between ourselves.’
‘It didn’t happen,’ Gemma said. ‘Erased, deleted, wiped.’ She took a gulp of her gin and tonic as if to speed the process. ‘Have you been out with Jake yet?’
‘I had a drink with him Saturday night.’
‘I don’t get it-you and him. You’re poles apart.’
‘Attraction of opposites.’
‘If you say so.’ Gemma rotated the lemon and ice in her drink. ‘Not like Rick and me. We’re two of a kind, really. Funny.’
‘What is?’
‘Remember when the four of us were talking in Chicago Rock about my boss, dreaming up ways to get rid of him? The Headhunters. Wasn’t it Rick who suggested the best way was to get him a life sentence?’
‘No,’ Jo said. ‘It was you.’
‘Me?’
‘Rick was going on about gruesome methods of making people disappear altogether.’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘The idea of stitching up Mr Cartwright was yours. You thought of it in Starbucks. There were just the two of us. I distinctly remember you saying it.’
Gemma’s eyes widened. ‘With a memory like that, you should be on Mastermind. And now you’ve said it, I can remember something else. It was you who said we’d need a body to get a conviction.’
Jo cast her thoughts back. ‘True. And now we’ve got one.’
‘Weird.’
‘Bit of a coincidence, certainly.’
‘I’d say it’s creepy. The stitch-up could really happen if Mr Cartwright gets pulled in for murdering Fiona. He could be banged up for life.’ Her mouth curved upward. ‘I’ll be leading the cheers.’
‘Hold on,’ Jo said. ‘You’re racing ahead again. We don’t have any reason to think she was murdered. I thought we decided it was an accident.’
‘We talked in the car about him pushing her in.’
‘We were both feeling guilty for not going to the police. It was a relief to throw suspicion on someone else.’
Gemma frowned. ‘You’ve changed your mind already?’
‘We should take a more balanced view now.’
‘Accident?’
‘Unless someone proves us wrong.’
‘They’ll do a post mortem, won’t they?’
‘Sure to.’
Gemma gave a wicked smile. ‘And you’re going to look pretty damn silly when they find the mark where the poisoned arrow went in. Did I tell you my boss took a cruise up the Amazon last year and met one of those tribes who use curare for hunting?’
‘You didn’t, and I don’t believe a word of it.’
‘He’s also a Russian spy.’
Jo laughed. ‘Working at the printers’ in Fishbourne? I don’t think so.’
‘All will be revealed.’
‘I can’t wait. That drink must be doing you good. You’re sounding more like the Gemma I know.’
‘Permanently pissed?’
‘Nicely relaxed.’
‘I did panic a bit, seeing the body. First time for me. You’re more experienced.’
‘By a few days only. I don’t intend to make a habit of it.’
‘Do they know who she was-the dead woman on the beach?’
‘If they do, they haven’t told me.’
‘What if there’s a link with Fiona?’
‘It would be surprising.’ Time to draw the line, she thought. ‘Gemma, this isn’t getting us anywhere. We ought to stop speculating and get back to normality.’
‘Coffee in Starbucks on Saturday?’
‘Good suggestion.’
