The Other Half Lives aka The Dead Lie Down

22

5/3/08

‘If we work on the assumption that Aidan Seed strangled someone-an unknown woman-in the front bedroom at 15 Megson Crescent, that means he can’t also have killed Crowther,’ said Simon. He’d been to the bar and returned with a pint for himself and one for Charlie, though she’d told him twice that she wanted a vodka and orange. ‘The methods are too different.’

‘The situations might have been different,’ she pointed out. ‘One might have been spur of the moment, one planned.’

He was silent for a few seconds. Eventually, he said, ‘I can’t say you’re wrong, because I’ve got nothing solid to back it up. But… I don’t know, I’ve never killed anyone, but I doubt killing’s like cooking, where you might do it one way one time and another way another time: today you might microwave your baked beans, tomorrow you might heat them on the hob. I reckon for a lot of killers, there’s only one way they’d ever kill, either because the method’s part of a ritual that’s important to them, or because only that one way feels possible. Someone who’d lose his temper and strangle a woman in anger wouldn’t kill coldly and dispassionately with a gun-take away the heat of the moment and he couldn’t kill at all. A shooter wants to guarantee absolute control. He wouldn’t be able to face something as risky as a strangling, in case his victim overpowered him, or-’

‘Maybe,’ Charlie cut him off. ‘Maybe all this is true of most killers, but there could be one-let’s call him Aidan Seed- who has killed in more than one way. And who says you have to lose your temper to strangle someone? That could be planned, too.’

‘Milward said Seed wasn’t their suspect,’ said Simon. ‘At least admit it’s possible: Trelease killed Crowther either because Seed was spending time with her, or because he’d given her Abberton, or a bit of both. We know Trelease likes to keep her paintings to herself, doesn’t like the idea of other people getting their hands on them. We also know she attacked Ruth Bussey, Seed’s girlfriend-maybe she’s even killed her by now.’

Charlie groaned. ‘You’re going to say Mary Trelease is obsessed with Seed and she’s killing the other women in his life. That’s wild speculation even for you.’

‘Do you think we can assume Adam Sands in Martha Wyers’ novel is Seed?’ Simon asked.

‘Definitely. I phoned Trinity College, Cambridge. Martha Wyers applied for the job there that Aidan got. They met at the interview, like Adam Sands and the fictional version of Martha.’

‘Then I’m right,’ said Simon, as though this were a plain fact. ‘Trelease murdered first Wyers and then Crowther because she saw them as rivals for Seed’s affection. She’ll kill Ruth Bussey for the same reason, if she hasn’t already.’

‘How does Abberton fit in?’ Charlie asked.

‘I don’t know.’

‘And where’s Seed now? You’re saying Trelease made him drive her car somewhere at gunpoint…’

‘She’s killed him.’

‘How convenient,’ said Charlie drily. ‘Everyone I mention, you tell me Mary Trelease has killed them. Evidence? None, which is why you’re saying it to me and not to Milward or Kombothekra.’

‘Milward’s in no mood to listen to me. I fucked up.’ He glared at Charlie, daring her to criticise him. ‘She was coming round to trusting me, and I threatened her. She as good as threw me out on the street. As for Kombothekra…’ Simon sighed heavily. ‘He rang me before, wanting to give me an update. I called him a coward.’

‘A coward?’ Charlie was confused.

‘This situation-us being out of the loop, him breaking rank and drip-feeding us information-the way I saw it, it was win-win for him. He keeps us up to speed and buys our loyalty-no way we’re going to serve him up on a plate to Proust once he’s stuck his neck out for us, right? He can tell us as much as he wants without risking anything. The more he leaks, the more grateful we are, the more we return the favour by protecting him. To us, it looks like he’s going out on a limb because he’s on our side. To the Snowman, he’s the good boy who never puts a foot wrong.’ Simon shrugs. ‘Easy way for a yes-man like Kombothekra to look like he stands for something. That’s what I thought until Gibbs phoned.’

‘And now?’

‘I was wrong,’ said Simon. ‘Seems Kombothekra’s support for us is more public than I gave him credit for. Sellers and Gibbs know he’s been in regular contact with us, and he’s been doggedly fighting my corner with Proust, too. None of which I knew when I laid into him.’

‘Sam doesn’t hold grudges,’ said Charlie. ‘Tell him you’re sorry and tell him your overblown theory. For what it’s worth, I think Seed’s a hundred times more likely to have killed Crowther than Mary Trelease is. He’s got a real motive-Crowther spent three days torturing his girlfriend.’

Simon was shaking his head. ‘Seed’s not the sort to take revenge. Nor to harm anyone deliberately-which is how I know that, whoever he strangled at 15 Megson Crescent, it wasn’t planned.’

‘What? Where are you getting all this from?’

‘Have you heard of George Fox?’ Simon asked.

‘No.’

‘Born 1624, died 1691. He was the founding father of Quakerism, pretty much invented the whole thing single- handedly. Gemma Crowther rated him.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I went to an internet cafe when Milward chucked me out. You don’t have to charm information out of computers, or thank them afterwards.’

Or make love to them, thought Charlie. Maybe Simon would prefer to marry a Toshiba Equium M70. Charlie only knew the name of that particular model because she owed her sister one.

‘Crowther’s written about George Fox on at least four Quaker websites, quoting his words of spiritual wisdom like she thinks the sun shines out of his arse. On one of the sites, someone’s posted a comment with the heading “Cobblers”, taking her to task, someone with a not-so-high opinion of Fox. Guess who?’

‘Aidan… oh. Len Smith?’

Simon shook his head. ‘Seed used the name Len Smith for the Quaker meetings, when he was pretending to be Crowther’s friend, but online he used a different alias to pour scorn on her views: Adam Sands.’

Charlie’s eyes widened. ‘He called himself after the character in Martha Wyers’ novel, the one based on him?’ As if, after all these years, he wanted to endorse her version of him. Was it guilt, Charlie wondered, because she loved him enough to take her own life and he didn’t love her at all?

‘George Fox was an arrogant twat who wouldn’t be told anything by anyone,’ said Simon. ‘He was a tyrant- smug, rude, tactless, intolerant, unforgiving-remember that, it’s important. Worst of all, Fox dismissed the inevitability of sin.’

‘That sounds complicated,’ said Charlie, wondering what any of it had to do with Aidan Seed.

‘The idea that human beings regularly fuck up and need to ask God’s forgiveness when they do,’ Simon explained. ‘I grew up with the idea of sin. It was as much a part of my childhood as illicitly watching Grange Hill. That’s a Catholic upbringing for you-saying your Hail Marys every time you think a bad thought or lie to your mother.’

‘So saying Hail Marys is like writing lines, is it? Ten, fifty, a hundred, depending on how bad the sin?’

‘Pretty much,’ said Simon. ‘I hated it-still hate the idea of it-but I can see now that it had one thing in its favour: the emphasis on the difference between right and wrong, the idea that wrongs need to be put right. You have to say sorry, make amends. Basically the set-up is that God’s the boss, the Pope’s next after him, your parish priest’s next, then your parents, and you’re a piece of kindling waiting to be dropped into the flames of Hell.’

‘Sounds great,’ said Charlie. ‘What a carefree childhood you must have had.’

‘I’m not talking about me,’ said Simon, blushing, though he manifestly had been, unless Charlie was confused and it was George Fox who’d been watching Grange Hill. ‘Fox claimed he had the light inside him and was therefore incapable of sin-that’s tantamount to claiming he was God. Other people sinned, lesser beings, and when they did he withheld his forgiveness. Adam Sands had a story to prove it. I’ll show you the website, you can read it. There was another prominent Quaker, a man called James Nayler, who got himself in