‘Of course, I know of his tremendous professional reputation,’ Beaufort went on, ‘and I imagine it was an action out of character, born of desperation, no doubt.’
He sipped fastidiously at his coffee and nibbled the corner of a biscuit.‘These are stale. Reg isn’t a great one for housekeeping. Why he never married I can’t imagine. Hm.’ He laid the biscuit and cup to one side.‘There is one other thing that bothers me, Sergeant, and I don’t mind if you do pass this on to DCI Brock, if you feel it relevant. The man Wylie you’ve arrested is known to me. He is an extremely devious and evil character, and I am quite sure he will try to exploit any weakness he perceives in those against him, including offering false information. I should hate to imagine that DCI Brock’s opinion of Reg Gilbey, or of me for that matter, would be influenced by a character like that. Have committal proceedings begun?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Really?’ He frowned.‘There’s no doubt, I take it, about his guilt?’
‘I shouldn’t think so.’
‘Then the sooner he’s put away the better. Well now,’ he brushed his fingers together and rose to his feet, ‘it’s been most pleasant talking to you, Sergeant. I’m obliged to you for giving me your time. Now I’d better return to the master upstairs. You’ve seen the portrait, haven’t you? What do you think of it?’
‘It’s very strong.’
Beaufort seemed pleased with the reply.
‘Did you ever see Tracey again,’Kathy asked,‘after that day she called here?’
‘I believe I may have seen her in the square.’ His voice had become cool.‘Why do you ask?’
‘We ask everyone who may have seen her. Did you notice anyone watching her?’
‘Ah, I see. No, I’m afraid I can’t recall anything. I wasn’t really looking, you see.’
‘When would this have been?’
‘I’m not sure. Two or three weeks before she disappeared? Now, if you’ll excuse me, Tom will see you out.’
While he went back upstairs to the studio, Kathy looked in on Tom Reeves in the kitchen. He put down the book he was reading and closed the door quietly behind her.‘How did it go?’
‘All right. I think I got the message.’
‘Am I allowed to ask what it was?’
‘Lay off Reg Gilbey and beware of my boss. The same message you gave me.’
‘Not at his bidding.’
‘He happened to mention that he saw Tracey Rudd a couple of times before she disappeared. Do you remember that?’
‘No, I’m pretty sure I never saw her. Maybe he bumped into her at the gallery.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Well, I assume Rudd took his kid down there, and the judge calls in now and again.’
‘Yes, the owner mentioned he has dinner in the restaurant.’
‘And he checks out the exhibitions. He looked in there this morning, as a matter of fact.’
‘What, with all those school kids?’
‘Yeah.’ Reeves laughed. ‘He had some bone to pick with the owner. Seemed rather annoyed.’
‘Do you know what about?’
‘No idea. Why, are you spying on him?’
‘Of course not. How’s old Reg today?’
‘He didn’t seem too bad. From the bottles I found in his waste bin I’d say he had a boozy night and it must have restored his spirits. He was ready to get back to work this morning, at any rate.’
‘I’d better get going.’
‘Okay. You may not be seeing me much longer.’
‘Oh. You moving on?’
‘Yeah. This job’s okay for overtime, but it’s dead boring really.’
‘What will you do?’
‘Back to CID for a spell. Listen, you didn’t think I was telling you that stuff because the judge told me to, did you? I mean, he did ask me to pump you about the case, but I said you wouldn’t tell me anything anyway.’
‘What did he want to know?’
‘Oh, who your suspects were for the old lady’s murder, and what the pathologist had to say about Dodworth’s death.’
‘Just out of idle curiosity, do you think?’
‘No, he seemed more insistent than that. I assumed he was wanting to reassure Reg.’
‘Hm. Well, I’d better go.’
‘Listen, if I can help at all…’ He suddenly seemed embarrassed, and shrugged.‘Whatever.’
Kathy smiled at him, realising she’d be sorry not to bump into him again. ‘Thanks. I don’t suppose you’ve come across anyone called L. Sterne, have you, Tom?’
‘Lawrence Sterne,’ he said immediately.‘Wrote Tristram Shandy.’
‘When was that?’
‘Oh, eighteenth century.’
Like Henry Fuseli, Kathy thought. But that couldn’t be it.
‘Why? Looking for something to read? Try this.’ He handed her the book he’d been reading. She took it and saw from the cover that it was a crime thriller.
‘It’s good. I’ve just finished it. I was checking some of the early clues I’d missed.’
‘Thanks. I’ll try it, when I get some time. Better write your name in it, so I don’t steal it.’
He grinned and wrote. Afterwards she saw he’d put his phone number as well as his name.
Brock looked up as the guard tapped on the door. ‘Prisoner’s ready to see you again, sir.’
‘Thanks.’ He followed the man down the corridor and waited while he unlocked the door to the interview room. Wylie was sitting alone, looking sullen and thoughtful.
‘Where’s your lawyer?’ Brock asked. It was only on hearing the tightness in his own voice that he realised how much the news of Lee’s death had shaken him. He looked down at the pale blob of Wylie’s face and felt an overwhelming urge to bury his fist in it. Instead, he was obliged to wheedle and cajole and talk to this monster as if his needs and thoughts were really worthy of consideration.
‘I sent Russell out to get some air. He needs to relax more. Sit down, I want to talk to you, off the record.’
Brock knew that he ought to stop this, walk out and calm down, but instead he took the seat.‘I’m listening.’
Wylie waved towards the tape recorder. ‘I want that kept off.’
Brock nodded.
‘The emails won’t help you with the girls. They contain personal stuff, to do with business, that I don’t want getting out. That’s number one. Number two: I got slapped around last night; they told me it was just the beginning. I know who ordered it. I want out of here. I want the charges dropped or I want bail.’
Brock watched him become more agitated as he spoke, fidgeting with his fingers, tapping his foot beneath the table.
‘And in return?’
Wylie leaned across the table and whispered, barely moving his lips,‘I’ll give you the judge.’
‘For what?’
‘He took the girl, the third one, Tracey.’
Brock remained motionless, but inside his chest he felt his heart hammering unnaturally fast.‘Go on.’
Wylie shook his head. ‘That’s all I’ll say. I’ve got pictures.’
‘Who hit you?’
‘I got bumped. It was a warning from him, of course. Christ, he killed the old woman, and now this other bloke.’
Brock sat back, wondering if the man’s panic was genuine. He was inclined to think it was.
‘Well?’Wylie demanded.
‘I’ll need a lot of convincing. I won’t have you released, but I can move you away from here, to somewhere
