“I’m only asking you to see Sarah, not to cancel your trip.”
“In the circumstances-”
“Catch your plane on Friday, Robin.” Bella had moved closer and lowered her voice. Her eyes seemed to urge me to accept her advice. “Get out while you can.”
“Get out of what?”
“All of this.”
There was something beyond her words and looks, some message she wanted to convey without declaring what it was. “Sarah’s bound to ask whether her father’s death was an accident or suicide. What do I tell her?”
“What I’ve told you. Nobody knows.”
“She may want to follow you to Portugal.”
“Try to discourage her. There’d be no point.”
“How can you be so sure?” Bella’s strength was failing. Her will to keep whatever it was to herself was ebbing. Even her self-reliance had its limits. And now we’d reached them. “What the hell is all this about, Bella?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do. It wasn’t an accident, was it?”
“I doubt it.”
“Then he must have killed himself?”
“Not necessarily.”
“You’re not suggesting he was murdered?” She didn’t reply, merely swallowed hard and took a drag on her cigarette. But her eyes remained fixed on me. And in them there was no longer much attempt at concealment. “Why would anybody kill Keith?”
“There’s a reason. A very good reason.”
“What is it?”
“It would explain why he went to Portugal. And why he never left.”
“Tell me what it is.”
“I can’t.”
“If you want me to go and see Sarah, you must.” It was a bluff. I think we both knew that. We were beyond such bargaining now. But still Bella hesitated, weighing some other issue in her mind. The need to guard her secret against the desire to share it.
“All right.” She moved back to the fireplace and tossed the remnant of her cigarette into the grate, then leant against the mantelpiece, slowly arched her neck as if it were aching and turned her head to look at me. “Keith knew Paul was lying, Robin. Paul couldn’t have murdered Louise or Oscar Bantock.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying Keith knew Paul’s confession to be a pack of lies from start to finish.”
“You mean he hoped it was.”
“No. He knew. For a fact.”
“How could he?”
“By being responsible for the murders himself.” She studied the shocked expression on my face for a moment, then said: “Keith paid Shaun Naylor to kill Oscar Bantock. He commissioned the crime. And unintentionally brought about his wife’s murder as a result.”
“That can’t be true.”
“Yes it can. He told me so himself when he realized there was no other way to convince me Paul was lying.”
“But… why should Paul have lied?”
“That hardly matters now, does it? Don’t you see? Keith wasn’t prepared to let Louise’s murderer get away with it. He was going to intervene to prevent Naylor’s release. He was going to admit his part in the crime. That’s why he’s been killed. To stop him confessing.”
“I… I don’t understand. If Keith hired Naylor… who killed Keith?”
“There were intermediaries. Keith never met Naylor. The whole thing was arranged for him by somebody else. And I’m pretty sure it’s that somebody who murdered Keith-or had him murdered.”
“If this is true-”
“It’s true.”
“Then we must go to the police. Without delay. Naylor isn’t innocent after all. A guilty man’s just been set free.”
“Perhaps you’d like to explain what we’d go to them with.” There was more pity than scorn in her expression as she stared at me. “Keith’s dead. And I can’t prove a single thing he told me.” She sighed and looked away, motioning dismissively at me with her palm. Only to abandon the gesture halfway through and slowly lower her hand to her side. “Get me some gin, Robin,” she said wearily. “I think it’s time you heard the whole story.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Bella took a deep swallow from the very large gin and tonic she’d just poured herself, lit another cigarette and crouched forward across the coffee-table between us. The central heating had already taken the edge off the chill, but Bella, whose preferred temperature was five degrees above most people’s, hadn’t even turned down the collar of her raincoat, let alone taken it off.
“You’ll say I mishandled it from the start,” she began. “You’ll say I shouldn’t have kept you in the dark or tried to solve the problem without forcing Keith to own up to what he’d done. Well, you can say what you damn well please. I was actually trying to spare everyone a lot of unnecessary suffering. I might even have succeeded if you’d been just a bit more-” She broke off and gave me a little head-shaking smile. “Sorry. Recriminations won’t get us anywhere, will they? And nor will being wise after the event. You remember coming to The Hurdles a few days after Paul had confessed to you? You remember Keith insisting Paul had made it all up? Well, I didn’t believe him any more than you did. But the following day, after Sarah had gone back to Bristol, Keith told me how he could be so sure. And then I did believe him.
“It seems Keith became convinced during the spring of nineteen ninety that Louise meant to leave him for Oscar Bantock. He accused her of having an affair with Bantock and she neither admitted it nor denied it. She said he had to make up his own mind about her fidelity. As for leaving him, she wouldn’t promise not to do that either. He’d always been a possessive husband. Sometimes an irrationally jealous one as well. I’ve seen that side of him myself. And ours was never exactly a love match. Whereas he really did love Louise. Too much for her peace of mind, I suppose. She wanted the freedom to do as she pleased. And if leaving Keith was what it took to find it, that’s what she was willing to do.
“I don’t blame her. In fact, I’m sorry never to have known her. She sounds like a woman after my own heart, though you probably think I’m flattering myself. But, reasonable or not, it was a dangerous line to take with Keith. He’d always suspected there was something going on between Louise and Howard Marsden, despite Louise telling him how unwelcome Howard’s attentions were. Perhaps he suspected it just because she told him. In his mind there were lots of other men she didn’t tell him about.”
“He can’t have believed that,” I put in. “The idea’s absurd.”
“How would you know?” Bella eyed me curiously for a moment, then said: “Anyway, jealousy is absurd. It’s also destructive when left to fester. The point is that Keith couldn’t prevent himself believing his own fantasies, couldn’t help interpreting every gesture of independence by Louise as an act of infidelity. To him, her interest in art had always seemed like perfect cover for an affair. Her friendship with Oscar Bantock was the last straw. Keith simply couldn’t bear the thought of Louise letting a man like Bantock touch her. As for the possibility of them running away together, well, that was too much for him to take.
“He’d probably have done nothing about it even so, except that he happened to know somebody who could have Bantock taken out of Louise’s life on a permanent basis. Keith never told me his name. Said it’d be safer for me not to know. Let’s call him Smith. About fifteen years ago, Keith treated Smith’s wife for infertility. Carried out some tricky operation that enabled the poor cow to have children. Smith’s one of those men who thinks life isn’t complete without a son and heir. He was very grateful to Keith. I mean, extremely grateful. Said if there was ever anything he could do for him, any favour, however small or large, Keith had only to ask. And Smith, behind the respectable lifestyle-big house in the suburbs, golf club membership and so on-was actually a full-time professional criminal. A crook. A gangster. One of those Mr. Big types you read about who never go to prison even when their capers go wrong. He never said that’s what he was, of course. But Keith had got the message clearly enough. So now he decided to contact Smith and call in the debt. By asking him to have Bantock killed.”