wished the accusations carried some dignity rather than sounding clumsy.
A spark of anger came into the navy blue eyes when she started to speak, but it was quickly smothered. Her voice kept its level tone. ‘I see. You set Gerald Venables up?’
‘Yes.’
‘And he isn’t really a film producer? The part he was talking about doesn’t exist?’
‘He is a sort of occasional film producer. But no, the part doesn’t exist.’
She flared. He had hit her where it hurt most, in the career. ‘That was a dirty trick.’
For a moment he almost felt a twinge of guilt until he reminded himself of the situation. Anna carried such conviction in her acting. She went on. ‘I suppose I should have realised that it was unwise to mix with old men. They only get clinging and jealous.’
That stung him. ‘Good God! Do you think I set all this up as some elaborate charade to test your affection for me?’ He almost shouted the words. A tweedy middle-aged couple who were passing turned curiously.
‘I can’t think of any other reason why you should do it.’
That sounded genuine, but then everything she said sounded genuine. Charles was not going to be stopped now. It was a time for truths. And accusations.
‘I set Gerald up to get certain information from you.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like the fact that you and Willy Mariello were lovers.’
‘So what? At least he was my age. You see, you are jealous. Jealous of someone who’s dead. Anyway, Willy and I were finished. It happened while we were in Derby. We thought it would continue while we were up here, but it didn’t.’
‘You told Gerald it did, right up to Willy’s death.’
‘Oh, you’ve been spying carefully. That wasn’t true. I just said that to sound more like the girl in the film.’
That again sounded plausible. The set-up may have been too heavy, and Anna may just have given any information that seemed likely to help her to the part. But Charles was not checked. ‘Did Willy want the affair to end?’
‘No. He got clinging too. Kept trying to win back my affections. But I’d outgrown him.’
‘How did he try to win back your affections?’
‘Silly things.’
‘Like pushing Lesley Petter down the steps by the Castle?’ That did shake her. There was a long pause before she replied. ‘Yes. I suppose that was an attempt to get me back.’
‘Did you suggest it?’
‘No, I did not!’ she snapped. ‘I may have mentioned that I was understudying her, that the parts she was playing were good ones, but no…’
Charles could imagine her ‘mentioning’ with all the innocence of Lady Macbeth. ‘Listen, Anna, you’re in serious trouble.’
‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘Murder is a serious business.’
‘What? Are you accusing me of murder?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re off your head. Whom am I supposed to have murdered?’
‘Willy.’
‘Good God.’ Now she really did look lost, stunned by the accusation. ‘It never occurred to me that he was murdered. And how in heaven’s name am I supposed to have done it? And why, for God’s sake?’
‘Why first. You incited Willy to nobble Lesley.’
‘That’s not true. It was his idea.’
‘Quite! He did it, thinking that you’d be grateful and bounce back into his arms. It gave him a hold over you and you were forced to go back to him.’
‘I didn’t.’
‘But then he became, as you say, clinging. He was a nuisance, he proved to be without influence in show business circles, but he was not easy to shake off because of your shared guilt over Lesley. So you killed him.’
She was staring at him now in frank amazement. ‘And how am I supposed to have done the murder?’
He recapitulated all the business of the knives lying unattended at Coates Gardens before the killing. ‘It was a long chance. The switch was likely to be discovered before the photo-call. But it might work. And it did.’
Anna gave a slight smile. ‘But surely, if, as you say, Willy and I were back together, I would have been sleeping at his place and gone straight to the Hall for rehearsal. I wouldn’t have gone to Coates Gardens at all during the relevant period.’
That was a blow to Charles’ logic. But she had lied so much that she might be lying over that as well. ‘You could have crept out in the night.’
‘Oh yes, informed by some psychic source that the knives were lying there?’
‘Yes,’ he asserted, conviction wavering.
‘Well, you’re wrong. I wasn’t sleeping with Willy. But I do have an alibi for the period. I spent that night in the Lawnmarket flat with someone else.’
‘Who?’
‘Its owner. A bloke called Lestor Wanewright. He was the reason I broke off with Willy. I met him out in Nice while I was on holiday. He has a villa there. We came back here together and he stayed until he had to return to London on business. That was on the morning of Willy’s death. Lestor went straight to Waverley Station and I went straight to the Masonic Hall for rehearsal.’
‘Why should I believe that?’
‘You can check it. Lestor works for his father in London. Wanewright’s, the merchant bank.’
‘But you took up with me only two days later.’
She shrugged. ‘Aren’t you flattered?’
‘No. You only wanted me for what I could do for you.’
‘Yes. I quite liked you too.’
‘Oh yes.’ There was no danger of his believing anything she said now. Except about Lestor Wanewright. That rang true. If she just wanted an alibi, she had got it with Charles’ own assumption that she had been with Willy (a flaw he had overlooked in his argument). The fact that she gave a checkable alibi with Lestor Wanewright meant it was true.
‘Goodbye. Charles. I don’t think we’ll see a lot of each other now.
‘No.’
She walked off, still brisk and purposeful. Lovely, but not human. Charles leant back against the North British Hotel wall and let the warring emotions inside him fight it out for themselves.
One thing he was sure of. Anna Duncan was a dishonest bitch and a whore. But she was not a murderer.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Even the bright extremes of joy
Bring on conclusions of disgust,
Like the sweet blossoms of the May,
Whose fragrance ends in must.
