Bill Bryman had offered to drive Lindsay the mile back to the peace camp principally because he thought he might be able to prise more information from her than the bare quotes she had handed out to the pack. He was out of luck. Neither gratitude nor friendship would make Lindsay part with those pearls she had that were printable. But as she left the Crabtree’s house, she noticed that the Special Branch man with the red Fiesta was back, which added indefinably to her eagerness to leave the scene. So she had frankly used Bill’s car as a getaway vehicle to escape her colleagues and any watching eyes. As soon as he pulled up near the van, she was off. There was hardly a sign of life at the camp, and she realised a meeting must be in progress. Clever Cordelia, she thought.
She struggled through the mud in her high heels to Cordelia’s car and retrieved her other clothes. Back at the van, she changed into jeans and a sweater then set off jogging down the road towards the phone box on the main road, in the opposite direction to Brownlow Common Cottages. She had deliberately chosen the further of the two boxes in the neighborhood to avoid being overheard by any fellow journalists hanging around waiting to talk to their offices. To her relief the box was empty. She rang the police at Fordham to check that there were no new developments, then got through to the Clarion’s copy room. She dictated a heavily edited account of her interview with Emma and Simon Crabtree, coupled with an update on the case.
When she was transferred to the newsdesk, Duncan ’s voice reverberated in her ear. “Hello, Lindsay. What’ve you got for me?”
“An exclusive chat with the grieving widow and son,” she replied. “Nobody else got near them, but I had to give a couple of quotes to the pack in exchange for the exclusive. You’ll see them from the agency wire services, probably. Nothing of any importance. Any queries on the feature copy I did earlier?”
“No queries, kid. Your copy has just come up on screen, and it looks okay. Any progress on the exclusive chat with the bird who broke his nose?”
Lindsay fumed quietly. How much did the bastard want? “Hey, Duncan, did you know that women get called birds because they keep picking up worms? I doubt if I’ll get anything for tonight’s paper on that. The woman concerned is still a bit twitchy, you know? First thing tomorrow, though. I’ll file it before conference. And I’ve got another possible angle for tomorrow if the lawyers won’t let us use the interview. Apparently there were one or two wee problems with Crabtree’s ratepayers’ association. Possible financial shenanigans. I’m going to take a look at that, okay?” Lindsay couldn’t believe she was taking control of the conversation and the assignment, but it was actually happening.
“Fine,” Duncan acknowledged. “You’re the man on the spot, that sounds all right to me. Stick with it, kid. Speak to me in the morning.” The line went dead. Man on the spot, indeed. She made a face at the phone and set off at a leisurely pace to the camp.
As the benders came into sight, she saw that things were no longer quite so quiet. Outside the meeting tent were several figures. As she got closer, Lindsay could distinguish Cordelia, Jane, Deborah, Nicky, and a couple of other women. There seemed to be an argument in progress, judging by the gestures and postures of the group. Lindsay quickened her pace.
“Lindsay!” Jane exclaimed. “Thank goodness you’re here. Maybe you can sort this mess out.”
Cordelia interrupted angrily. “Look, Jane, I’ve said already, there’s nothing to sort out. Just count me out in future.”
“Look, just calm down, all of you,” soothed Deborah. “Everybody’s taking this all so personally. It’s not any sort of personality thing. It’s about the principle of trust and not reneging on the people you’ve entrusted something to. You know?”
“Are you saying I’m not to be trusted?” Cordelia flashed back.
“Personally, I don’t think either of you are,” Nicky muttered.
“It’s really nothing to do with you, Cordelia,” Jane replied in brisk tones. “The women find it very hard to trust people they see as outsiders and they used up all their available goodwill on Lindsay.”
Exasperated, Lindsay demanded, “Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”
The others looked at each other, uncertain. Cordelia snorted. “Typical,” she muttered. “Everything by committee. Look, Lindsay, it’s pretty simple. You asked me to sort out the alibis for you and your pet policeman. I figured the quickest and most logical way to do it was get everyone together. So I got Jane to call a meeting. Which eventually got itself together only to decide that I wasn’t right-on enough for them to cooperate with. So I upped and left, which is where you find us now.”
Lindsay sighed. Jane said with no trace of defensiveness, “I think that’s a bit loaded, Cordelia. The women didn’t like someone they perceive as an outsider calling a meeting and making demands. We had enough difficulties getting agreement on asking Lindsay for help. Maybe you could have been a bit less heavy. I still think they’ll be okay if you both explain to them why we need the information to protect ourselves and to protect Deborah. Right now, it’s seen as being simply a case of us doing the police’s job for them and exposing ourselves to groundless suspicion.”
Cordelia scowled. “You can do all the explaining you want, but you can leave me out of the negotiations. I’ve had it. I’m going back to London,” she said, and stalked off towards her car.
“How childish can you get?” Nicky asked airily of no one in particular.
“Shut it,” Lindsay snarled. “Why the hell did nobody help her? Debs, could you and Jane please go and talk them down in there? I want a word with Cordelia before she goes. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She ran off in Cordelia’s wake and caught up with her before she could reach the car.
Lindsay grabbed her arm, but Cordelia wriggled free. Lindsay caught up again and shouted desperately, “Wait a minute, will you?”
Cordelia stopped, head held high. “What for?”
“Don’t take off like this,” Lindsay pleaded. “I don’t want you to go. I need you here. I need your help. It’s perfectly bloody trying to deal with this situation alone. I’ve got to have a foot in both camps. Nobody really trusts me either; you know I’m just the lesser of two evils, both for the women and for the police. Don’t leave me isolated like this.”
Cordelia continued to stare at the ground. “You’re not isolated, Lindsay. If you go into that meeting, you won’t be humiliated like I was. It’s not enough with these women to have your heart in the right place. You’ve got to have the right credentials too. And my face just doesn’t fit.”
“It’s not like that, Cordelia. Don’t leave because there was one hassle between you.” Lindsay reached out impulsively and pulled Cordelia close. “Don’t leave me. Not now. I feel… I don’t know, I feel I’m not safe without you here.”
“That’s absurd,” Cordelia replied, her voice muffled by Lindsay’s jacket. “Look, I’m going back to London to get stuck into some work. I’m not mad at you at all. I simply choose not to have to deal with these women solely on their terms. All right? Now don’t forget, I want to know where you are and what you’re doing, okay? I’m worried about you. This deal you’ve done with Rigano could get really dangerous. There are so many potential conflicts of interest-the women, the police, your paper. And you should know from experience that digging the dirt on murderers can be dangerous. Don’t take any chances. Look, I think it will be easier for you to deal with the peace women if I’m not around. But if you really need me, give me a call and I’ll come down and book myself into a hotel or something.”
Lindsay nodded, and they hugged each other. Then Cordelia disengaged herself and climbed into the car. She revved the engine a couple of times and glided off down the road, leaving a spray of mud and a puff of white exhaust behind her. Lindsay watched till she was long gone, then turned to walk slowly back to the meeting tent.
She pushed aside the flap of polythene that served as a door and stood listening to Deborah doing for her what someone with a bit of sense and sensitivity should have done for Cordelia. Deborah finally wound up, saying, “We’ve got nothing to hide here. We asked Lindsay to help us prove that. Well, she can’t do it all by herself. When she asks us for help, or sends someone else for that help, we should forget maybe that we have some principles that can’t be broken or suspicions we won’t let go, or else we’re as bad as the ones on the other side of that wire.”
