‘You must have phoned him,’ Jack said, determined to maintain the conversation. ‘I suppose you asked him to come back to school. How did you manage that?’
‘I said I had a message from Angela Brayshaw,’ she said. ‘He thought he’d kept that affair secret, but everyone could tell how infatuated he was with her. He came rushing round to school like a little boy in love. I had the coffee ready, with the drug in his mug. I told him that Angela had arranged to come back to school early, so they could have some time together before the party started. He looked so pleased with himself, so smug. I pretended to leave and sat in my classroom to wait. When I went back to the hall a quarter of an hour later he was unconscious. I strangled him, then dragged him into the small playground and strung him up on the netball hoop. I had the noose ready. I was pleased with the result. He looked very…? dramatic hanging there. It was most appropriate for Hallowe’en. All the time I was working I was conscious that someone might come and surprise me.’ She stopped and looked directly at him. ‘ It was exciting,’ she said. ‘I have never been so excited in my life. I wanted to humiliate him as he had humiliated me.’
‘You were clever,’ Jack said. ‘ I would have said that you were as surprised as the rest of us when I found his body.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I would never have thought myself capable of it. I was pleased with myself. My boyfriend would have been proud of me.’
‘It must have been a bit of a shock when I turned up to talk to you,’ Jack said. He felt he was entitled to be proud of himself too.
‘It was,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think anyone would find out about Anne, but I still thought I was safe…’
She stood up suddenly, in a jerk, as if she had heard a noise outside, and walked to the window. She peered through the curtains then returned to her chair.
‘Why did you kill Paul Wilcox then?’ he asked. He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. It seemed unimportant now that he might offend her. ‘If you thought you were safe.’
She obviously disliked the implied criticism.
‘Perhaps I was too clever when I followed you to the school house on the night of the bonfire,’ she admitted. ‘ I felt helpless. I didn’t know how far you’d got with your investigation. I hoped to frighten you.’
‘You just made me more determined,’ he said.
‘Yes. I realize that.’
‘Paul Wilcox was already in the school house looking for some letters he’d sent to Angela Brayshaw. He saw you, didn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘He was looking out of the upstairs window and he saw me in the moonlight. He seemed too frightened then to realize the implication of it, but I was worried he’d see how important it was later. I never planned to kill him. It was quite spontaneous. I was on my way to Matthew’s and I saw Wilcox come out of the old mill and walk up the lane. I turned the car round and followed him. Just as I reached him it started to rain very heavily. I saw that as fate. I stopped the car beside him. “ Get in,” I said. “ I’ll give you a lift home.” He didn’t suspect anything. I always thought he was a fool. Then I saw him sitting there, starting to wonder. “What were you doing at the school house on the night of the bonfire?” he asked. “It was you I saw in the playground.” So I had to kill him. I took my scarf and twisted it round his neck as he was turning to get out of the car. It was easy then to tip him into the ditch.’
‘Wilcox had a wife and two children,’ Jack said.
‘He was weak and silly,’ she said quickly. ‘I couldn’t let him get in the way.’
She’s like a selfish child, he thought, determined to get her own way at any price.
‘And what about me?’ he cried. ‘ What excuse do you have for getting rid of me.’
‘You were warned,’ she said. ‘ It was your choice.’ She looked quite different, hunched over the gun, her knees wide apart like one of the incontinent old ladies at Burnside. She had lost her control and dignity. Her protective passion for Matthew had destroyed her.
‘Don’t you think they’ll realize you’re the murderer if they find my body here?’
‘Do you think I’m a fool?’ The words exploded from her and she was so angry and unbalanced that he was afraid she would shoot him immediately. ‘No one knows where you are. They think you’ve run away because you were depressed by Kitty’s death. So depressed that you might commit suicide yourself.’
‘I’d never kill myself. I’m no coward.’
‘No,’ she said, ‘but if they find your body that’s what they’ll think. The bottle of Heminevrin’s still nearly full. I’m stronger than you and I’ve got a gun. I’ll take you to your home and eventually someone will find your body there. Poor Jack, they’ll say, her death turned his mind. He was crazy with love.’
‘I’m not crazy,’ he said before he could stop himself.
‘Are you suggesting that I am?’ she spat at him. ‘Because I was looking after the only person I had the opportunity of loving?’
‘That’s not true,’ he said. ‘You had plenty of opportunity, a fine young woman like you. Perhaps you were crazy even then, brooding about that man who got you in trouble.’
He had provoked her too far. She stood up and pointed the gun towards him. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. She swung round, confused and bewildered as if the noise had emptied her mind of all thought.
‘Keep away!’ she shouted. ‘ Keep away or I’ll kill him.’
There was another knock. She prowled towards the window and looked out but the porch light was off and there was nothing to see. Jack sat quietly, unmoving.
‘Who is it?’ she shouted. ‘Who’s there?’
The unknown person knocked on the door again. The noise and the lack of response seemed to irritate her. She edged towards the door.
Suddenly there was the sound of breaking glass as the back door into the kitchen was broken. The room seemed full of policemen. Ramsay was there and Irene Hunt had collapsed on the floor, an old and ugly woman, her face wrinkled and running with tears.
‘She must be mad,’ Jack said. He felt he had to make an excuse for her. He hoped they would treat her gently.
‘She would have killed you,’ the policeman said. ‘You’d better come home. I promised Patty I’d get you back safely.’
As they walked up the lane to where the cars had been parked out of earshot of the bungalow, Jack found that the fog was lifting in patches and he could see stars above his head.
Chapter Thirteen
Patty’s small living room seemed full of people. Ramsay was there, quite at home in Jim’s chair, his legs stretched out in front of the fire. Hannah Wilcox had turned up on the doorstep without warning. She had heard about Jack’s disappearance, she said, and wondered if she could do anything, to help. This unexpected gesture of friendship and support pleased Patty almost more than the safe arrival of her father. She pulled Hannah in and persuaded her to stay, although she said it was a family affair and they would want to be left alone. Now Hannah sat on the floor in a corner, trying unsuccessfully to be inconspicuous, because whenever she spoke or moved she demanded attention. Jim, solid and relieved, wished the visitors would go away so life could return to normal. He drank beer and handed a can to Jack, and after some hesitation to Ramsay. Now he would never have to see the policeman again he was prepared to be friendly. The room was very hot. Patty remembered what Hannah had said about shock making you feel cold and had turned the heating on full.
‘How did you find me then?’ Jack asked. He was more relaxed than anyone.
‘It was Inspector Ramsay,’ Patty said. Jim recognized the admiration in her voice and seemed to shrink.