Now Marcus raised it up. Mary stretched out her hand and seemed to pull it towards her. I couldn't see properly because of the chair.'
'What did Mr Felstead look like?' asked Pascoe.
'Like?'
'Angry? Puzzled? Or was he joining in the joke?'
'He looked… annoyed. Not in a rage, but annoyed.'
'What happened then?'
'There was a kind of crash and an odd kind of splintering noise. Marcus stepped back. He said something like, 'Oh Christ!' And he went deadly pale. Then he looked up and saw me. I came into the room and walked round the chair so I could see Mary.' He glanced up at Jenny who took his hand and held it hard. 'Her forehead was crushed in. Not much, it seemed, but I could tell she was dead. She still had a cigarette in her hand. I took it out and put it in the ash-tray. Then Marcus started to talk.' This is very important,' said Pascoe urgently. 'What did he say?' The exact words? I can't remember. He was very very upset. So was I. But he told me he didn't mean it, it was an accident. He kept on saying this. He said over and over again that it was an accident. He begged me to believe him. He became almost hysterical.'
'And you, Mr Connon.'
'I felt numb at first. Then my head began to ache again and I felt sick and faint, just like before. But Marcus was in a worse state, I think, and this seemed to help me. I had to help him out of the room. I got him a drink. Then I went to the telephone. I suppose I was going to phone McManus, or the police. I don't really know. It just seemed necessary to phone someone.'
'And did you?'
Connon shook his head regretfully.
'No. No, I didn't. He stopped me. He begged me not to, till I'd heard him out. Then he told me his story. He told me about him and Gwen Evans to start with.'
'Didn't you know before?'
'Not a thing. He'd kept it very dark. I knew Arthur was very jealous and reckoned that something was going on. Now and then I got the impression he even suspected me.'
He laughed shortly.
'I even told Mary. She was very amused.' Pascoe glanced at Dalziel who shook his head almost imperceptibly. 'But he certainly never gave Marcus a thought,' went on Connon. 'Nor did I. But according to Marcus, Mary had somehow found out. I don't know how, nor did he.'
He glanced anxiously at his daughter.
'Don't think badly of your mother, dear. I'm sorry you've got to hear this at all, but it's better now than later.' He looked at Dalziel and added, very clearly, 'In court.' 'What was Mrs Connon up to, sir?' asked Pascoe. 'Some kind of blackmail?'
He kept his gaze firmly away from Jenny.
'Not in the real sense of the word, not in any criminal sense,' said Connon urgently. 'Believe that. No, according to Marcus, she was just entertaining herself, if that's the word, by ringing Gwen up from time to time. She seemed to have a keen instinct for when they were together. She'd just chatter about this or that, ordinary everyday things, but just slanted so that all the time Gwen knew she knew. When they met, it was the same. Conspiratorial glances behind Arthur's back, that kind of thing. Nothing else though. No threats.'
'You believed what Mr Felstead told you.'
Another quick glance at Jenny.
'Yes,' he said slowly. 'I could believe it.' I bet you could, thought Pascoe. I never met your wife and / could believe it.
'Let's get back to that Saturday night,' said Dalziel.
Connon pulled out a packet of cigarettes and began to light one, then pulled himself up as at an unconscious discourtesy and offered them round. They all refused. Pascoe was reminded of Stanley Curtis. 'Marcus said that the previous day, Friday, in the morning, Mary had telephoned Gwen to say that she was going to have a drink with Arthur at lunch time. She said it casually, but made it sound full of significance. Gwen was worried sick. She said that Arthur was very strange that night. I don't know whether Mary had seen him or not, or if she had, what she had said.' Again the glance between Pascoe and Dalziel. This time, Pascoe realized, Antony had caught it too. 'But the following night, Saturday, when Marcus called on Gwen just to see her briefly before she went down to the Club, he found her near breaking point. Mary had been on the phone again earlier in the evening. She'd asked if Arthur had mentioned their meeting. Gwen had started to scream at her down the phone, but Mary had just laughed. She'd kept on listening and laughing. She was capable of great cruelty at times.' Times we shan never hear of, thought Pascoe. Is the girl old enough to understand? I hope to God she is for both their sakes.
'So Marcus headed round here?' said Dalziel.
'Yes.'
'In a rage? To have a showdown?'
'Yes. I expect so. He told me he came determined to see us both. He'd been tempted to talk to me for some time, he said. But when he asked where I was, Mary told him I was sleeping it off upstairs. She said I was drunk. She must have been up to see where I was earlier and found me on the bed. She'd undone cny collar, I think,' he added, as though in irritation. 'Anyway they had a row; or rather, Marcus told me, he yelled and threatened while she just sat and smiled at him. Finally there was a pause and they heard a movement upstairs. I don't know whether it was me or Stanley.'
'Stanley?' said Jenny in surprise. 'Stanley who?'
'I'll explain later, love,' he said. 'She got up then and said it was time I came down to hear what my so-called best friend thought of her. She went to the door and opened it, then screamed. Marcus went after her just in time to see someone scuttle across the hall and out of the front door. He'd thrown something down. It was an airpistol. Marcus picked it up and was going after the intruder, but she stopped him. He said he had a feeling that she thought she knew who it was. If it was Stanley, he was probably right. Well, to cut things short, it all started again. Things got very nasty from the sound of it. Mary suggested they should ring Arthur and ask him what he thought about the affair. Marcus said he was still waving the pistol around. She laughed at him and asked him if he imagined he was a gangster or something. He told me he thought of firing it at her then, but as he lifted it up, he said that the slug came trickling out of the barrel and dropped on the chair beside her. It must have looked a bit absurd. Mary thought it was hilarious. According to Marcus she made a big thing of it, saying things like, 'was he going to kill me, then? With his little toy gun?' that kind of thing. She reached out, he said, and lifted the gun up till it rested against her forehead. That's when I must have come down. Then, Marcus said, still laughing she pressed his finger where it was over the trigger.'
He ran his hand over his face nervously.
'I'm glad you know,' he said. 'But I don't understand,' said Jenny. 'What happened? If there was no pellet in it…' 'The pistol was of a type that worked by pressing an inner cylinder into the outer one against a very strong spring as well as the resulting air pressure. Even unloaded, the inner cylinder is jerked out with very great force to an extent of about six inches. Pressed hard against someone's head which in turn was resting hard up against the back of a chair…' Pascoe didn't finish, Jenny sat down, her face pale. Antony hovered anxiously over her. 'Why didn't you ring the police, Mr Connon?' asked Dalziel. 'You still haven't told us.'
Connon shrugged hopelessly.
'I don't know. I wish to God I had. He swore it was an accident, but he asked me how it would sound to the police. Would they believe him? I couldn't say they would. I…'
'Go on.'
'I half didn't believe him myself. He was my friend, but it was my wife sitting there, dead. I was lost, quite lost. I couldn't see what to do.'
'Do you believe him now?'
'Yes. Yes, I think I do. The pellet helped. I thought of it later, but I couldn't find it anywhere. Then I doubted him very much. But it turned up among those objects your people found down the chair. I was overjoyed to find it. It makes a difference, doesn't it?' 'Yes, it does,' said Pascoe, more reassuringly than he felt Dalziel would approve. 'Marcus said if I changed my mind later, he'd be ready to tell you everything. But he begged me not to involve him now. He wanted us to let the burglar, Stanley that is, be blamed. But I refused to do that. I said we couldn't do
