Echo

'A clear conscience?' suggested Deacon.

Harrison dropped his butt to the grass and ground it out with his toe. 'You're a romantic, Mike. This is the end of the twentieth century, and people don't have consciences anymore. They have clever solicitors instead. Do you seriously think Amanda would have told us about James if she hadn't been charged with Nigel's murder?' He shook his head. 'The pressure's been building up on her to account for James's disappearance, and she can't afford two separate trials for two separate murders. She might be found innocent once, but never twice, and the last thing she wants is for us to unearth James after she's beaten the de Vriess verdict. I'm betting there won't be enough of him left to show how he died, and she wants an assurance before she goes to court that there'll be no more charges pending. What price conscience then, eh?'

Deacon didn't answer immediately, and they stood in silence watching the police industry in the river. 'How did she find out it was Nigel who sent her the photocopy about the fraud?'' he asked then.

'He rang to offer his sympathy after James disappeared, and mentioned it then. He said he wanted to warn her that James might be arrested but couldn't do it officially because of his position on the board. She denies your theory about him having a hold over her,' he went on. 'She says Nigel knew nothing about James's death, and claims their relationship had always been amicable until he forced his way into her house and raped her.'

Deacon gave a low laugh which was whipped away by the wind. 'She can't say anything else, not if she wants to plead self-defense.'

Harrison eyed him curiously. 'Why are you so keen to prove it wasn't?'

'I'm not anymore.'

'I don't follow.'

Deacon trod his own butt into the ground. 'I'm only interested in her admission that she killed James. As far as Nigel's concerned, I'd say he got what he deserved whether he raped her once or a hundred times.'

'But you're damn sure it was the latter.'

'Yes.' He thrust his hands into his pockets to keep them warm. 'I think he owned her body and soul because he knew she'd murdered her husband. I've spoken to Lawrence's partner and he describes de Vriess as an animal. He says Nigel wouldn't have hesitated to abuse a woman he had a hold over.' He lifted an amused eyebrow. 'Look, there had to be some reason for the bastard's murder. You may believe she killed two men in accidental self-defense, but I don't. I think she's probably been planning how to get rid of Nigel for the last six years, but when John Streeter phoned to announce a change of tactics it was the push she needed. It's one thing to be the butt of libelous press releases that no sensible editor has ever touched with a barge pole, quite another to sit idly by while people you fear form alliances on the advice of a journalist.'

Harrison made a wry face. 'Where's the evidence? Justice isn't served by idle speculation.'

'It is in this case,' countered Deacon amiably. 'Justice was served the minute she admitted to killing James, and you can thank Billy Blake for that. He's the one who persuaded her to talk.'

'You're not going to tell me she killed him as well?'

'No. Billy died of self-neglect.'

'What's your theory on why Nigel gave Billy her address?'

'He didn't. Nigel was abroad the last two weeks in May.' He thought back to the bitter woman who had spilled her heart out to him a few days before. 'It was Fiona who told Billy how to find Amanda.'

God knows, I hate her ... She's ruined my life ... Nigel and I were divorced because of her, and now she's killed him ... Yes, I did tell that old tramp where she lived ... He was completely mad ... He said he was an instrument of God ... And then he asked for her address ... Did it worry me that I was sending a madman after her?... Not in the least. It amused me ... Oh, I've always known where she was and what she was calling herself ... I'd have been mad not to...

There was sudden activity in the water as a diver surfaced and gestured excitedly to the watchers on the bank. Harrison moved forward with the group of policemen, leaving Deacon free to cross the twenty-yard gap that separated him from Amanda Powell. She was watching him, not the river, and he felt the pull of her attraction just as he had the first time he met her.

He often wondered why he didn't go to her.

Instead, he retraced his steps up the slope without a backward glance.

THE STREET, FLEET STREET, LONDON EC4

Lawrence Greenhill

23 Wharf Way

London E14

22nd January, 1996

Dear Lawrence,

What can you tell me about the following? I came across it last night in your diary.

'London-19th December, 1949: A new client, Mrs P, a war widow, came to me today, seeking advice about her 13-yr-old daughter's pregnancy. Should she seek to prosecute the man in question or keep quiet for the sake of her child? At 7+ months the pregnancy is too advanced for abortion-dear God, the poor soul thought it was puppy fat and my heart bleeds for her. She welcomed GS to her home as a friend. He is 27, only five years younger than she is, and she was flattered by his attentions. Her confusion is the greater because she clearly entertained hopes of marriage herself and is devastated to find that he was more interested in seducing her daughter, V. I have advised silence and adoption, and given her the address of a convent in Colchester where her daughter can retreat before her condition becomes noticeable to friends and teachers. The nuns will find suitable parents when the time comes. But I am at war with myself tonight. What sort of world are we living in where innocent children, orphaned by war, become the prey of monsters? Surely such a man should be prosecuted, even if at the expense of his wretched victim's reputation?'

Terry says it's fate. Is it? Or is this your God at work? I should have put you at the center of my chart, and not Billy Blake, for it was you who held the key to both stories. Billy was 'still searching for truth' while you have always known it.

Yours ever,