Declared Dead

The sensation of fingers running through my hair jolted me from my dreams. The tickle, in the darkness, of what felt like the cold, sharp blade of a knife against my throat stopped me from screaming. I didn't dare move or open my mouth. Freddie was next door and at all costs I had to keep his presence in the house a secret. My visitor had climbed into bed beside me and I was revolted and terrified by the thought that he might have been there for the past hour or so. At least he was fully clothed. Sensing I was awake, he took my left hand and ran it slowly over his face, beginning with his unshaven chin, then along his cheeks and finally around his nose.

I gasped. I'd recognise my husband anywhere.

'Isn't this a nice surprise?' he said. 'Back in bed together, just like old times.'

'But I thought…'

'I know what you thought and everybody else thought the same. There's no need to talk in a whisper. I know Freddie's asleep next door.'

I was no longer sure that Edward wouldn't harm his own son. I certainly didn't want the boy to wake up and come in and see his father, because he would then be an eye-witness to the truth and a dangerous one at that.

'But whose body was it in the car?'

He laughed. 'Wouldn't you like to know?'

I nodded. If I could keep him talking, maybe I could get hold of the gun. I slid my hand gently under the pillow, fingers outstretched in search of the cold metal.

'Is this what you're looking for?' Edward sniggered and suddenly leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp; he kept the knife close against my neck.

'People who hide guns under their pillows need to be light sleepers.'

I saw the gun on the table, hopelessly out of reach, and my heart began to pound. Edward's eyes were locked on mine, and only inches away, but his expression was a million miles off – on another planet. I noticed a bubble of saliva creeping out of the corner of his mouth.

'Tell me how you did it.'

The question seemed to focus his attention. He got out of bed and started pacing round the room.

'The idea came to me after the fight downstairs when Freddie hit me with that bronze. When I came round and you had gone, I suddenly realised that here was a chance to disappear permanently. That would solve my little problem with Musgrave. There can be great advantages, you know, to being declared dead. You can even commit murder without anyone ever suspecting you.

'That Friday afternoon, your lover boy phoned up and asked me to meet him at the pub the following evening. Here was a marvellous chance to kill two birds with one stone. Isn't it a shame they've abolished capital punishment? I had known about your affair for ages. In fact, I had even followed you to Melksham Pit and watched you make love on that rug together. I must say that you certainly put more enthusiasm into it with him than you ever did with me. I hated you both for that. Anyway, that evening I telephoned Corcoran, who seemed the ideal victim, and asked him to meet me the following afternoon to discuss the return of his confession note. He had been pestering me about it for months. I met him in a car I had hired that morning in London and drove him out to Melksham Pit. He thought I was going to return the note. Instead, I pulled out a knife and plunged it into his heart, leaving a small pool of blood on the spot to give the police something to work on. You should have seen his face! Died instantly. I then struck him on the back of the head with the bronze statue, which I'd already cleaned and washed free of my own blood that morning. I dumped his body in the boot and left the car down the road from the pit. I duly met lover boy in the pub and provoked the scene overheard by so many other people. What they didn't see, though, was the barbiturate I slipped into his beer while he was in the loo. By the time he had reached his car, he was absolutely legless. I waited for the car park to clear, parked his car in the darkest corner, having first removed his shoes and poured a few drops of petrol on his trousers. Then I laid him down across the front seat. Nobody could see him; anyone seeing the car would think it was empty. I then drove out to Melksham. In the early hours of the morning, working, I thought appropriately, under the gleam of a full moon, I transferred Corcoran from the boot of the hire car into the boot of the Jag. I then drove the Jag up to the pit, dowsed the back seat and the body in petrol, threw a match into the car and watched it burn.'

'Weren't you worried that he would be identified?'

'There's no need to whisper. I'm afraid I'm not going to let Freddie grow up an orphan. Shall I continue? I'd put on Tom's shoes to watch the blaze, reckoning if the police were to find any footprints they might as well be his. When it was over, I drove back in the hire car to the pub, replaced Tom's shoes and then on to Lambourn. I put the bronze, with Corcoran's blood on it instead of mine, on the mantelpiece, and drove up to London. Once there, I left the car at the rental place – it was six-thirty, so nobody saw me – and took the train to Fishguard. That night I arrived in Ireland with a job well done. All my problems were over. Everyone would conclude it was my body in the boot of the car. I had taken the precaution of smashing Corcoran's teeth just in case they tried to look up the dental records. I reckoned that if they used that new process I'd read about in the papers, they would rely on the blood on the bronze and the pool of dried blood by the car I'd so kindly left them, just to make sure. Always willing to help the police, you know me. So they had a perfect match, of course, and then needed to look no further. The icing on the cake came when they arrested old lover boy, just as I'd planned.'

'Then if Corcoran was dead, who was it who lured me to Ireland?'

'Yours truly, of course. When I saw your notice in the Sportsman I thought I could have a bit of fun and get hold of some cash at the same time. You remember I only ever talked to that dreadful friend of yours, Amy Frost. I saw you both arrive at the airport and after you had left the tea house I slashed the tyres on her car to stop her following you. I was rather pleased with myself over that.'

It was all so obvious, but I kept asking questions, instinctively playing for time.

'And the time I was followed in the car?'

'Me again. As I was officially dead, I had no difficulty in coming back to England provided I kept away from the obvious places. I followed you to Kempton that day and then to London while you had dinner with Amy. I enjoyed the journey down to the Cotswolds and had thought I might even finish you off that night. You did very well to escape.'

'And the hospital?'

'That really did please me, although I underestimated the amount of insulin needed. I'd seen my father inject himself for years and when they were both out of the house, I let myself in with my key and borrowed some of the stuff. You should have died that night, too. Still, that would have denied me the pleasure of this evening's performance.'

I realised that he was mad, quite mad. I had to keep him talking. 'And it was you who put the notice in the Sportsman and phoned Tom's solicitors pretending to be Corcoran?'

'Yes, another enjoyable part of this affair. They had never heard the Irishman's voice and believed my passable imitation of an Irish accent. I was in two minds as to whether I dared risk coming to London again and booking into the hotel in Victoria, but then I said, why the hell not? No one at the hotel would recognise me and I could sign the statement implicating Brennan and clearing Tom, and then do a runner. Forging Corcoran's signature was easy as I had kept a copy of his note. I loved the idea of building up all your hopes of an acquittal, only to see them dashed again.'

'And the letters?'

'My final master stroke. I had discovered where you used to hide those letters early on. I used to quite enjoy reading them when you were out racing. Romantic bastard, that lover of yours. I moved them from the chimney and left them in the desk drawer where the police were bound to find them. Removing that page was a nice idea too, wasn't it?'

'And Musgrave; did you do him in, too?'

'I did. You should have seen his face when I walked into his office late on Saturday night. Your expose in the Sportsman had put him into a panic and he was busy destroying his ledger and sheets. I forced him at knife point onto the desk, made him put his own tie around his neck as a noose. You know, I don't think he ever thought I was actually going to hang him – I'll never forget the look of horror on his face when I kicked the chair away!'

As he chuckled to himself, I could swear I heard a car pull up outside, and then a door slam. I could just make out the sound of footsteps in the road outside. It had to be Amy, coming back for her file. Edward had moved back to the bed and was too engrossed in caressing my hair to notice. My heartbeat began to quicken even more as I