with the police. And… yes, I think I did it.’
‘But you can’t remember?’
‘Not the exact details. I know I staggered back from the Backstagers when the bar closed and I was full of hatred for Charlotte and drunk out of my mind. The next thing I remember with any clarity is waking up on the sitting room floor on Tuesday morning with the feeling that I’d done something terrible.’
‘But everyone feels like that when they’ve had a skinful.’ Hugo ignored him. ‘It’s no secret that Charlotte and I hadn’t been getting on too well, that… the magic had gone out of our marriage For the first time, there was slight intonation, a hint of bitterness as he spoke the cliche. ‘And it’s no secret that I’d started drinking too much and that when I drank, we fought. So I imagine it’s quite possible that, if I met her, smashed out of my mind, on Monday night, I laid hands on her and…’ In spite of the detachment with which he was speaking, he was unable to finish the sentence.
‘But you can’t remember doing it?’
‘I can’t remember anything when I’m that smashed.’
‘Then why did you confess to killing her?’
‘Why not? It fits the facts remarkable well. The motivation was there, the opportunity. I think my guilt is a reasonable deduction.’
‘Did the police put pressure on you to — ’
No, Charles. For Christ’s sake-’ He mastered this momentary lapse of control. ‘I reached the conclusion on my own, Charles. I was under no pressure.’ Realizing the irony of his last remark, he laughed a little laugh that was almost a sob.
‘So you are prepared to confess to a murder you can’t even remember just because the facts fit?’
Gerald came in at this juncture with the legal viewpoint.
‘I think this may be one of the most fruitful areas for the defence, actually. If you really can’t remember, of course we won’t be able to get you off the murder charge and that’s mandatory life, but the judge might well make some recommendation and you could be out in eight years.’
‘You’re talking as though his guilt were proven, Gerald.’
‘Yes, Charles. To my mind — ’
‘For Christ’s sake, both of you shut up! What does it matter? What’s the difference?’
Charles came in, hard. ‘The difference is, that if you are found guilty of murder, you’ll be put away for life. And if you are not found guilty…’ He petered out.
‘Exactly.’ It was only then that Charles realized the depths of Hugo’s despair. His friend was bankrupt of any kind of hope. It made little difference whether he spent the rest of his life in prison or at large. Except if he were free, drink might help him shorten his sentence.
Gerald got to his feet in an official sort of way. ‘You see, Charles, I didn’t really think there was much point in your coming down here. I’m afraid it’s an open-and-shut case. All we can do is to ensure that it’s as well presented as possible. Actually Hugo, I wanted to discuss the matter of instructing counsel. I felt — ’
‘Stop, Gerald, stop!’ Charles also stood up. ‘We can’t just leave it like this. I mean, as long as there’s even a doubt…’
‘I’m afraid a signed confession doesn’t leave much room for doubt. Now come on, Charles, I’ve taken a foolish risk in bringing you down here; I think we should move as soon as possible and — ’
‘No, just a minute. Hugo, please, just look at me and tell me that you did it, tell me that you strangled Charlotte, and I’ll believe you.’
Hugo looked at Charles. The eyes were still dull, but somewhere deep down there was a tiny spark of interest. ‘Charles, I can’t say that definitely, because I can’t remember. But I think there’s a strong chance that I killed Charlotte.’
‘And you’re prepared to leave it like that?’
Hugo shrugged. ‘What’s the alternative? I don’t see that it’s going to be possible to prove that I didn’t.’
‘Then we’ll just have to prove that someone else did.’ The remark came out with more crusading fervour than Charles had intended.
It affected Hugo. A new shrewdness came into his eyes. ‘Hmm. Well, if you think that’s possible, then you have my blessing to investigate until you’re blue in the face.’
The new animation showed how little Hugo had even considered the possibility of his innocence. Whether from his own remorse or because of the prompting of C.I.D. men anxious to sew up the case, he had not begun to think of any alternative solution.
But the shift of mood did not last. Hugo dropped back into dull despair. ‘Yes, if it’ll amuse you, Charles, investigate everything. I’d like to feel I could be of use to someone, if only as something to investigate. And if you can t clear my besmirched name’ — the italics were heavy with sarcasm — ‘then take up another hobby. Amateur dramatics, maybe?’
Gerald got purposeful again. ‘Charles, I think Hugo and I — ’
‘Just a minute. Hugo, I’ve got to ask you a couple of things.’
‘Okay.’ The voice had reverted to tonelessness.
‘You said the other evening that Charlotte was having an affair. Do you know who her lover was?’
‘Oh God, here we go again. I’ve been through all this with the police and — ’
‘Look, Charles, I don’t think — ‘Gerald butted in instinctively to defend his client.
‘No, it’s all right, Gerald. I can go through it once again. No, Charles, I don’t know who Charlotte’s lover was. No, I’m not even certain that she was having an affair. It just seemed a reasonable assumption — like so much else.’
‘What led you to that assumption?’
‘She was a young, attractive woman. She was trapped in a marriage that was getting nowhere. She was bored, lonely. I spent more and more time out getting pissed. If she didn’t start something up, then she had less initiative than I gave her credit for.’
“But you had no proof?’
‘What sort of proof do you want? No. I never caught her in flagrante delicto, no, I never saw her with a man, but if coming in at all hours, if going out on unexplained errands during the day, if saying she didn’t have to stay with me, she could go elsewhere… if that kind of thing’s proof, then I had it.’
‘But you never asked her directly?’
‘No. Towards the end we didn’t talk too much. Only to make domestic arrangements or to shout at each other. Oh, I’m sure she had a man somewhere.’
‘When did you start to think this?’
‘I don’t know. Two, three months back.’
‘Round the time she started rehearsing The Seagull.’
‘Possible. And, in answer to your next question, no, I have no idea whether she was having an affair with any of the Backstagers. I just felt she was having an affair with someone.’ Hugo’s voice was slurred with fatigue. Charles could feel Gerald’s protective restlessness and knew he hadn’t got much longer for his questioning.
‘Hugo, I’ll leave you now. Just one last thing. I want to find out more about Charlotte. Did she have any friends’ I could talk to, to ask about her?’
Hugo replied flatly, ‘No, no friends in Breckton. No close friends. That’s what she always complained about. That’s why she joined the Backstagers, to meet people. No, no friends, except lover boy.’
‘Didn’t she keep in touch with people she’d known before you married?’
‘One or two. Not many. Diccon Hudson she used to see sometimes. And there was a girl she’d been at drama school with, used to come round sometimes. Not recently. I didn’t like her much. Too actressy, hippy… young maybe is what I mean.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Sally Radford.’
‘Thank you. I will go now, Hugo. I’m sorry to have to put you through it all again. But if there’s a chance of finding something out, it’ll be worth it.’
Hugo spoke with his eyes closed. His voice was infinitely tired. ‘I wouldn’t bother Charles. I killed her.’
