‘We’ll follow up, and you’re still guilty of withholding vital evidence.’
‘My life’s worth more than what you can penalise me with. I know the sort of people we’re dealing with here. They will not allow you to get too close, to blow their cover.’
‘We’ve met their type before. We know what we’re up against. Nick Domett, you’d better hope that what you’ve given us is the complete truth.”
‘It is. If you want me, you have my phone number. I’ll be keeping out of sight for a few days.’
‘An address where you’ll be.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll answer the phone, and besides, you’ve got my email. Once you start ruffling feathers, it’s going to become unpredictable. If you find yourself out of the police force or dead in the gutter, don’t come complaining to me.’
‘Or dead in Hyde Park,’ Larry quipped.
‘As you say,’ Domett replied. He stood up and left the police station.
‘Here’s where it gets dangerous,’ Larry said.
‘It’s also where we solve the case. We may have found the motive,’ Isaac said. He knew he’d have to talk to Detective Chief Superintendent Goddard about the latest development.
Chapter 24
Christine Mason held to her story that Archibald Marshall, her manager and now confidante, was no longer pressuring her for money and sexual favours. Wendy Gladstone had spoken to the woman on two occasions since the meeting at the Masons’ home, where Christine had finally told her husband the truth about her involvement with a younger man.
The first time the two women had spoken after Christine’s revelation, it had been a five-minute conversation over the phone. That time, Christine had updated Wendy that she was staying with her sister for the time being as her husband was still angry, and she knew that if she went back to her house, he would be asking penetrating questions, questions she did not want to answer.
The second time the women met, it was not far from the hotel where Christine worked. It was a good day, clear and bright, warm even. The two women walked around the small park, a casual conversation, no prodding from Wendy.
‘It’s Gwen,’ Christine said. ‘She’s starting to drive me crazy.’
‘Past issues raising their ugly head?’ Wendy said. She wasn’t surprised as she knew what had happened in the past, the illicit love affair of Christine and Terry Hislop when he had been courting Gwen, and she had been playing hard to get, and Christine hadn’t.
‘It’s always there, but we were never that close as children. Different personalities, and my being there with her in that small house; well, we’re starting to argue. Over the dirty dishes in the sink last night, can you believe it?’
Wendy could. After Bridget had moved in with her, they had had the occasional flare up, always about the silly things: the cat scratching the furniture, the washing not out on the line.
‘I can. What are you going to do about it?’
‘Go home. Tony’s off overseas again, and we’ve been speaking. He wants to try counselling, not that I’m so keen.’
‘You believe it won’t help?’
‘I loved Colin, I can’t help that. If Tony wants me back, I’ll go, but I’m not going to be a changed person. It’s strange when you think about it now, but I suited Terry more than Gwen, and Tony and Gwen would have been a good match.’
‘Life takes twists and turns, but we make compromises,’ Wendy said. ‘Are you still holding to that story about Marshall?’
‘It’s not a story, it’s the truth,’ Christine said, but not so firmly as she had on previous occasions. Wendy noticed the change.
‘Sleeping with Marshall, the truth?’
A pause before Christine responded. ‘No.’
‘Christine, you’re an adult, not a teenager behind the bike shed at school. This is the real world, you’ve children who have grown up, a husband who must care about you, and you still jeopardise your life.’
‘You sound like Gwen. She’s a good one to lecture.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘She’s not been the vestal virgin all her life.’
‘Tony?’
‘Neither of them knows that I’m aware of it, and it was a long time ago. I didn’t tell them then, I don’t intend to now.’
‘Why?’
‘Ironic, isn’t it? I’m an open book, yet others who profess piety are no better.’
‘That’s the way it is, not that it matters. What does is who killed your lover. We’re still considering Marshall.’
‘And me?’
‘Aren’t you concerned when Marshall’s pawing you that he could be a killer?’
‘I’m more concerned about ensuring he’s finished as quickly as possible.’
‘Not a pleasant experience?’
‘He’s not the most attractive of men.’
‘Christine, you know where I am,’ Wendy said. ‘When you’re ready, call me. There’s no need to allow the man to treat you like a piece of meat.’
‘There is, and you know it.’
Wendy walked away, shaking her head in despair.
***
‘You know what this means?’ Richard Goddard said. He and Isaac were in the chief superintendent’s office on the top floor of Challis Street. In Isaac’s hand, the leather-covered notebook that Domett had handed over.
‘Whoever’s in here could be important, influential,’ Isaac said as he held the notebook up.
‘Some of the pages are missing,’ Goddard said as he flicked through them.
‘Domett was prepared. He knew that if we pushed too hard, attempted to make the connection between the murder and him, he had a bargaining tool, proof positive that it wasn’t him.’
‘Is it?’
‘Proof positive? No, we don’t think so, although Domett’s street smart, he’s not the type to murder anyone. He’s ripped the pages out to protect other special clientele.’
‘Do you want to go there?’ Goddard said, referring to whoever had been in the book.
‘We want the murderer,
