Scold's Bridle

Anyway, he's in Hong Kong, or that's what my receptionist told me.'

'Not any more, Dr. Blakeney. According to Mrs. Gillespie's solicitor, he's living in Bournemouth.' He addressed Joanna. 'We'll have to search the house again, and I'd prefer it if you were here while we did so.'

'Of course, Sergeant. I'm not planning to go anywhere. This is my house, after all.'

Sarah caught her gaze. 'What about Ruth? You can't just abandon her.'

'Ruth must learn to fend for herself, Dr. Blakeney.' She gave an eloquent little shrug. 'Perhaps you should have considered the consequences a little more carefully before you persuaded Mother to change her will. You must see that it's quite impossible for me to support her as things stand at the moment.'

'It's emotional support she needs, and that won't cost you a bean.'

'There's nothing I could say to her that wouldn't make matters worse.' Joanna's pale eyes stared unwinkingly at Sarah. 'She's had more opportunities than I ever had and she's chosen to throw them away. You do realize she was stealing from Mother for months before this sordid little episode at school.' Her mouth thinned unpleasantly. 'You can't imagine the resentment I've felt since Miss Harris telephoned to explain why Ruth was being expelled. Have you any idea of the money that's been wasted on that child's education?'

'Miss Harris has given you a very one-sided view of what happened,' said Sarah carefully, aware that Cooper was all ears beside her. 'You must see that it's only fair to hear Ruth's side as well, at least give her the chance to demonstrate that what happened wasn't entirely her fault.'

'I've lived with my daughter on and off for nearly eighteen years, and I know exactly who's to blame. Ruth is quite incapable of telling the truth. You would be very foolish to assume otherwise.' She smiled very slightly. 'You may tell her that she knows where I am if she wants me, although please make it very clear that, unless this business of the will is settled satisfactorily, then she can expect no help from me either in terms of her continuing education or of her living expenses.'

This woman was using Ruth as a bargaining chip, thought Sarah in disgust, but she reminded herself that in her own way Joanna was as desperate as Ruth. She tried again. 'Money isn't the issue here, Joanna, the only issue is that your daughter would like to see you. She's too frightened to come to Cedar House because the man who persuaded her to steal knows this address and has made threats against her. Please, please, will you come with me to Mill House and talk to her there? She isn't lying, but she's deeply disturbed about everything that's happened and needs reassurance that you haven't rejected her. She has spent most of her time sitting by the telephone, hoping and praying that you would call. I don't think you have any idea how deeply she cares for you.'

There was the briefest of hesitations-or was that wishful thinking on Sarah's part? 'You took her in, Dr. Blakeney, so I suggest you deal with her. I can't begin to condone anything she's done. Worse, I'm inclined to think it was she who murdered my mother. She's quite capable of it. Please don't be in any doubt about that.'

Sarah shook her head in disbelief. 'Ah, well, perhaps it's better this way. The one thing Ruth doesn't need at the moment is you downloading your hypocritical crap on her. You're tarred with exactly the same brush, or have you forgotten the mess you were in when Mathilda rescued you?' She shrugged. 'I'd made up my mind to turn the bequest down and let you and Ruth have a fair crack at convincing a court you had more rights than the donkeys. Not any more. You'll have to fight me for it now, and you'll be fighting your corner alone because I intend to put money in trust for Ruth so that she doesn't lose out whatever happens.' She walked to the door, flashing Cooper one of the sweet smiles that made his elderly heart race around like a young spring lamb. 'If it's of any interest to you, Sergeant, I am still of the opinion that Joanna did not kill Mathilda. Arthritis or no arthritis, Mathilda would have legged it for the hills the minute this bitch came near her.'

Well, well, Cooper thought, gazing after her as she stormed across the hall, there was passion in Dr. Blakeney after all. But he wished he knew what had happened to Ruth that was making her and Jack so angry.

Cadogan Mansions, implying as it did something grand and impressive, was a misnomer for the shabby neglect of the purpose-built block that greeted Cooper the following morning. Sixties architecture, drab, square and unstylish, squeezed into a gap between two suburban villas and constructed solely to provide extra accommodation at minimum cost for maximum profit. How very different towns might look, Cooper always thought, if planners had been prosecuted instead of praised for their urban vandalism. He climbed the utilitarian stairs and rang the bell of number seventeen. 'Mr. James Gillespie?' he asked of the rugged old man who poked his nose round the door and gusted stale whisky in his face. Cooper flipped open his warrant card. 'DS Cooper, Learmouth Police.'

Gillespie's eyebrows beetled aggressively. 'Well?'

'May I come in?'

'Why?'

'I'd like to ask you some questions about your late wife.'

'Why?'

Cooper could see this conversation dragging on interminably. He opted for the direct approach. 'Your wife was murdered, sir, and we have reason to believe you may have spoken to her before she died. I understand that you have been living abroad for some years, so perhaps I should remind you that you are obliged by British law to assist us in any way you can with our enquiries Now, may I come in?'

'If you must.' He seemed quite unruffled by the policeman's bald statement but led the way past a room with a bed in it to another room containing a threadbare sofa and two plastic chairs. There was no other furniture and no carpets, but a piece of net curtaining was draped in the windows to give a modicum of privacy. 'Expecting bits and pieces from Hong Kong,' he barked 'Should arrive any day. Camping out meanwhile. Sit down.' He lowered himself on to the sofa, trying somewhat clumsily to hide the empty bottle that lay on the floor at his feet. The room was frowsty with whisky, urine and unwashed old man. The front of his trousers was saturated, Cooper saw. Tactfully, he took out his notebook and concentrated his attention on that.

'You didn't seem very surprised when I told you your wife was murdered, Mr. Gillespie. Did you know already?'

'Heard rumours.'

'Who from?'

'My brother. We used to live in Long Upton once. He still knows people there. Hears things.'

'Where does he live now?'

'London.'