won’t catch me at a polling station until they put a box marked “None of the Above” on the ballot paper. My experience over the years has taught me to distrust politicians of all shades and hues, Mr Spicer. Now, shall we continue?’
‘Dunbar, I am going to see to it personally that you-’
‘Save your breath,’ interrupted Steven. ‘Bluster isn’t going to work with me. Why don’t you just tell me the truth and save us both a lot of time, assuming you can still recognise it after seven years in parliament?’
‘How dare you!’ stormed Spicer.
‘I dare because I know that you had an affair with “the Danby woman” as you had the gall to call her a moment ago. She was a decent woman, by all accounts, and she ended up taking her own life over a little shit like you.’
‘I know nothing at all about her,’ insisted Spicer, fighting to get his temper under control.
‘You gave her a book of Shakespeare’s sonnets and inscribed the fly leaf, “My love for ever, V.”’
‘My name is William.’
‘You like to be called Victor, Victor.’
‘I tell you, I didn’t know the woman,’ repeated Spicer, red in the face.
‘It was your handwriting; I had it analysed,’ lied Steven, sensing that he had the upper hand.
The blood drained from Spicer’s face and he sat motionless for a moment before leaning forward slowly to rest his arms on the desk. He finally hung his head and said quietly, ‘All right, I did know Ann. These things happen. I’m only human, damn it.’
Steven was not prepared to concede the point.
‘We met at some bloody awful exhibition her employers were putting on and it just sort of went on from there. It was stupid, I know, but like I say, these things happen. You’re not going to pretend that they don’t?’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ said Steven evenly.
There was a slight knock on the door and it opened immediately. Matilda Spicer put her head round and said, ‘I hate to interrupt you boys but you’re going to be late, darling.’
Spicer didn’t look up. He said in a strained croak, ‘Matilda, would you telephone the TV people, make my apologies and say that I will be unable to appear today.’
‘Is everything all right?’ she asked worriedly.
‘Fine, fine. I’ll explain later.’
The door closed and Spicer said, ‘You do realise what this will do to my wife? It will destroy her.’
Steven looked at Spicer as if examining a particularly uninteresting species of pond life. ‘My only concern lies in finding out where this virus came from,’ he said. ‘A lot of people have died. I need you to tell me everything you know.’
‘What can I tell you if I didn’t even know I had it?’ spluttered Spicer.
‘First, I need you to give me a blood sample so that it can be tested for antibodies to the virus. That will establish beyond doubt-’
‘That I was the cause of the outbreak?’ completed Spicer. He sounded shaken, as if realising the full implications for the first time.
‘Here in Manchester, yes,’ said Steven.
‘And if I refuse?’
‘That’s not an option,’ said Steven.
‘But it’s not conclusive yet, is it? It could be negative. I mean, it could still turn out that I had nothing to do with the outbreak or Ann getting the disease?’
‘Theoretically,’ agreed Steven, ‘in the way that six million people could suddenly visit the Millennium Dome in the next four weeks. You used to go hill-walking with Ann?’
‘I took it up last year. Ann was new to it, too. We both enjoyed it.’
‘You saw her on a number of weekends and then there was a long gap in her diary. That was when you went off to Nepal?’
Spicer nodded.
‘When you came back you had dinner with her on Thursday the eighteenth, and that was the last time you saw her?’ said Steven.
Spicer hesitated, as if searching for words. He said, ‘When I was close to death in Nepal I came to see just how much my wife and daughter meant to me. I decided to end it with Ann when I came back. You can understand that, can’t you?’
Steven nodded, then asked, ‘How did Ann take it?’
‘Very badly.’
‘But you still made love to her that night,’ said Steven flatly.
Spicer swallowed. ‘It was impossible not to,’ he said. ‘She was all over me. God, I’m only human.’
Once again, Steven did not concur. ‘That was the night you gave her the virus,’ he said.
‘Christ, I wasn’t to know,’ said Spicer. ‘How the hell could I?’
‘You made love to her, then you left her, and Ann took her life a few days later. Sound about right?’
‘Give me a break. I didn’t know the silly cow was going to do anything like that, did I?’
Steven’s right hand balled into a fist but he kept control. ‘I suppose not, Mr Spicer,’ he said. He let a few moments go by before saying suddenly, ‘So why did you kill Anthony Pelota?’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ blustered Spicer.
Steven stared hard at him, suggesting total imperviousness to bluster. After a few seconds’ silence he noted with some satisfaction that Spicer’s expression was changing; his defiance was being undermined by a decidedly hunted look.
‘I know Ann ate at the Magnolia that Thursday,’ continued Steven flatly. ‘Pelota was about to tell me who her dinner companion was. It was you, wasn’t it?’
‘So what if it was? There must have been twenty other people there that night,’ retorted Spicer.
‘They didn’t kill Pelota, Spicer, you did, and you didn’t wear gloves when you stuck that kitchen knife in him, did you?’ Steven was taking a gamble; he saw from Spicer’s expression that he was right. ‘Was he blackmailing you?’ he demanded. ‘Was that it?’
All the fight went out of Victor Spicer and his shoulders sagged. Almost inaudibly, he said, ‘The little wop called me to say that someone had been making inquiries. He made a great play of how discreet he’d been and then suggested that I might care to show my gratitude.’
Steven nodded impassively.
‘We agreed on five hundred pounds but when I went along there he raised the price to a thousand, and I just lost it. I knew that that wouldn’t have been the end of it. The red mist came down. We argued and fought. I grabbed the knife. You know the rest. What happens now?’
Steven said, ‘If you answer all my other questions, I’ll give you some time alone with your wife to prepare her for what she’ll have to face, then I’ll have to call the police. You do realise that your wife has been at risk of contracting the virus too?’
Spicer’s eyes opened like organ stops. ‘What d’you mean?’ he stammered.
‘The virus remains in the body fluids of someone who recovers from a filovirus infection for some time afterwards; that’s how Ann got it. If you’ve made love to your wife since your return, well, you can work it out.’
Spicer took a few deep breaths before saying, ‘As it happens, I haven’t… because of my illness…’
‘No need to worry, then,’ said Steven, but to his puzzlement he noticed that Spicer’s expression was not one of relief.
TWELVE
Edinburgh
Karen Doig left Paul Grossart’s office feeling as if the bottom had fallen out of her world. She walked slowly down the stairs in a daze and out through the front door without really seeing anything or anyone. It was raining
