She stopped and stood facing me through the wreckage, her beautiful hands clasping her face. We gazed down on the heap between us. Wilson wasn’t moving. I hoped he was dead. No such luck. The great bulk began stirring and a groan escaped. Kate and I were transfixed, waiting to see what he’d do. I took a step forward ready with my skilful boot.
He began to pull himself on to his knees, but his trunk and head stayed on the floor. I was about to kick him, but a great moan shook him and he fell slowly on to his side. He was clutching his stomach. Then I saw why. A spar of wood – part of a broken chair leg – stood out from between his hands. Blood was already flowing round his fingers and staining his shirt. His face was scratched and ashen. He looked like death. It suited him.
I stepped past him. I’m not sure he saw me. If he did, he didn’t recognise me. I walked up to Kate. She was wide-eyed and open-mouthed, breathing quickly.
“Oh, god. Oh god. What have we done?” Her voice carried notes of hysteria.
I took her shoulders with both hands and shook her roughly. “We haven’t done anything. He did it to himself.”
“What are we going to do? We have to get out of here.”
I thought fast. It was tempting – very tempting – to leave him here to die like a stuck pig. The world would be a better place for his departure. But I wouldn’t let a dog die like that. And more important, it would be trouble for Mary. The biggest trouble there was.
“Kate, Kate! Listen to me!” Her eyes were in shock. I wasn’t sure I was getting through. I slapped her. She blinked.
“Kate, we’re walking out of here, now. I’m taking you somewhere safe. I’m going to call an ambulance for him. OK?”
She nodded. I took her under one arm and hauled her out of the flat and down the stairs. We emerged into the murk and plunged off in the direction I thought was Mary’s. In the fog I missed the turning twice, but on the way blundered into a telephone box. I pushed Kate in with me while I called 999. She was unresisting and stood looking dumbly at me as I gave the address to the operator. I could do nothing more for Herbert Wilson. Even though I now knew he wasn’t the killer, he certainly wouldn’t get my prayers.
TWENTY FOUR
“Tea, Mary, please. And brandy. Make that two.”
I made Kate sit down in Mary’s parlour. She began to shake, and I sat staring at her perfect face, blotched and stained with running eye make-up. The mark I’d made on her cheek was a livid pink. Her shoulders convulsed as quiet sobs hit her. She tore off her hat and bent her head into her hands. The cap of hair gleamed in the tarty room like a platinum ball in a toy shop. I wanted to go over and put my arms round her but at the same time wanted her to suffer for a while. I felt a cold anger at what she’d done to herself. And me.
Mary came back with steaming cups and balloon glasses swirling with dark pools.
She sat beside Kate and touched her. Kate jumped and sat up, panic and wretchedness all over her face. She looked a beautiful, ravished mess.
“You drink. Brandy first, then tea.”
Kate took the glass and sniffed it suspiciously. Then she took a great gulp. She coughed and retched and finally fell back on her chair. She glared at me.
“Where is this? Who is this person?”
“I’m surprised you don’t recognise it. You’re in a whorehouse. This is the madam. Mama Mary. Be nice to her, Kate. She’s being nice to you.”
“Is this your idea of a sick joke? What are we doing here?”
“This is a sanctuary. For one thing, you were in shock. For another, I have questions I need answers to.”
“I can’t take any more, McRae. I just want this all over.”
My voice got harder. “So do I, Miss Graveney, so do I. You started it, remember.” She looked fearful again, as though I was going to leap over and hit her. I took advantage.
“Why did you do this, Kate? Why did you get involved with Jonny Crane?”
She looked at me from a long way off. I wasn’t sure if she’d ever come back.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Because I’m lower class? Because it’s only something rich folk would get up to?
Bored with cocaine, Kate?”
She took another big gulp of brandy. This time it went down easily. She took a deep breath and rested her head back on the chair. Her throat was exposed, thin and vulnerable.
She spoke to the ceiling. “It was a game. It started as a game. Tony and me.”
“A game? You mean like cowboys and Indians? Or maybe doctors and nurses?”
“Stop it! You make it sound so cheap.”
“Chess then?”
She shook her head at my sarcasm. She wasn’t ready to tell me.
“All right, when? When did it start?”
“Oh, ages ago.” Her words were already slurring, what with the shock and the booze. “We were children. He was showing off, trying to impress me. God, the things we did.”
I could imagine. I could see the pair of them, her with all her privileges and him desperate to stay up with her and keep her interested. “When did you become lovers?”
She lifted her head and stared defiantly at me. “Why, Mr McRae, I do believe you’re jealous.”
“Why should I be? When I could have bought you?” The words came out without thinking. She looked lashed. Tears formed in her eyes again.
“Good hit, McRae. Good hit.” She took a handkerchief out of her bag and dried her eyes. She sipped at some tea, ignoring Mary sitting beside her. Mary was giving me daggers.
“Well, if you must know, we’re not. Tony has never slept with me.” She said it with so little emotion that I knew it was true. Bizarrely – in the circumstances – I felt a surge of pity for the young Tony Caldwell. Faced with this glorious, tantalising young woman, teasing him, leading him on all those years. And always being rejected. Always on a piece of string, always trying to impress, just in case she relented. And when he found out she was his half-sister, had that finally turned his mind?
I weighed up the next question. What she’d just told me made it easier. But did I need to ask it? Was I just twisting the blade? Or was it time that she knew? “Did you know he was your half-brother?”
She gave me the look she reserved for shit on her shoe. “Don’t be stupid, McRae!
What a perfectly stupid, stupid, cruel thing to say.”
“Mary, could we make a phone call?”
“Sure, Danny.” She got up, walked into the hall and picked up the handset.
“Where you wanna call?”
“Hampstead 4032.”
“That’s Liza’s number! What are you playing at, you bastard?”
“When you get through, Mary, hand the phone to the lady here. And then she can ask the question herself.”
“Wait, wait!” Kate looked befuddled, as though she couldn’t take any more in.
She pushed her hair back and tried to think. Mary stood waiting for my word. I got up and pulled Kate to her feet and into the hall. I took the phone from Mary. The operator connected us. Liza answered.
“Liza, don’t hang up. I have Kate here. She wants to talk to you.”
I gave her no chance to think. I stuck the phone in Kate’s hand.
Kate said carefully, “Liza? Hello, dear. Yes, I’m all right. No I’m not being harmed. No! Don’t call the police. Not yet. Liza, I have a question for you.
It’s too silly for words.”
“McRae here tells me that Tony is… well, related to me. I know it’s perfectly silly and…”
