Jinx turned to look at him. "You can't expect to have it both ways, Inspector. If Adam is the organized criminal you all claim him to be, then he would have arranged for the mess to be cleared up. And he wouldn't have left Russell alive." She pressed her palm to her temple. "He doesn't make mistakes, Inspector."
"He beat a Negro half to death," said Maddocks idly, "who went on to become your uncle. Perhaps that was another mistake. Perhaps he'd meant to kill him, too."
Jinx dropped her hand into her lap and clasped it tightly over the other. She was feeling extremely unwell but knew Maddocks would exploit it if she said anything. She concentrated on Fraser, willing him to respond.
"Let's say you're right, Miss Kingsley," the Sergeant said after a moment, "and that there's another link between the three murders. Have you any idea what-or who-it might be?"
"The only one I can think of is Meg," she told him gravely. "She was as close to Russell and Leo as I was."
Maddocks stirred again. "Closer," he said bluntly. "According to some letters and diaries found in Leo's house, your friend Meg Harris was having an affair with your husband at the time of his death and also jumped in and out of bed regularly with your fiance. One of them, and it's clear from entries in her diary that she didn't know which, was the father of a child she aborted shortly after Landy was murdered."
There was a brief silence before color flared in Jinx's cheeks. "No wonder she was so upset when I lost my baby," she said slowly.
Maddocks frowned. "You don't seem very surprised about the affair."
"I knew about that," she said, "but I didn't know she'd had an abortion. Poor Meg. She must have felt guilty if she thought hers had been Russell's child as well."
"So this is something else you withheld from the London police?"
She held his gaze for a moment. "How could I tell them something I didn't know? It was long after Russell was dead that I found out about the affair."
"Ah," he murmured, "I think I could have predicted that. Did Miss Harris tell you?"
"No." She repeated what she'd told Alan Protheroe about the letters in the attic and her reluctance to reopen old wounds. "But perhaps if I had said something, Meg and Leo would still be alive," she finished bleakly. "It's so much easier to be wise after the event."
"Yes," said Maddocks thoughtfully. "Things do seem to take a very long time to germinate in your mind, don't they? Who else knew about this affair?"
"I don't think anyone did. I told you, they were very discreet."
"Did you tell your father about it?"
"When I found out, you mean?" He nodded. "There was no point."
"Anybody else?"
She shook her head. "Only Dr. Protheroe. I told him this morning."
Maddocks nodded. "Did you and Miss Harris ever discuss Landy's murder?"
"Once or twice, before I went into hospital," she said unevenly. "We discussed it before, but never afterwards."
"Did she say who she thought might have done it?"
She rested her cheek against her hand and tried to picture scenes in her mind. "It's so long ago," she said, "and neither of us was very inclined to dwell on it, but I think she went along with the initial police view because that was the only one that was reported in the papers. A robbery that went wrong. As far as I know, that's what most people still believe."
"So she never knew that both you and your father were under suspicion?"
She pretended to think about that. Everyone knew, you bastard ... every damn friend I ever had knew. Why the hell do you think I've been so fucking lonely for the last ten years... "I had to supply the police with a list of our friends, most of whom were Russell's, but Meg was on it as a friend of mine, and I do remember her telling me that the police were asking about the relationship between Russell and Adam." She frowned suddenly. ' 'You know, I remember now. She did make one rather odd comment. She said: "They will keep asking for information but I'm sure it's better to let sleeping dogs lie. There's been so much pain caused already.' "
"What did she mean by that?"
"At the time, I probably thought she was talking about Russell and Adam's relationship, saying she couldn't see the need to supply any more details. But now I think she might have been referring to her affair with Russell. I know the police dug very hard for evidence of something like that on the principle he might have been killed by a jealous husband." She paused for a moment. "But she knew I didn't know about the affair, so perhaps she didn't want to hurt me unnecessarily by revealing it to the police."
"It must have upset you when you finally found out about it," said Fraser.
She turned to him with visible relief. "I know it sounds callous, but in fact it made me feel better. Russell and I hadn't been getting on for months before he died, and I'd always felt guilty about it. It's awful to have someone die on you when you know you've made them unhappy. I kept thinking, if only I'd done this, or if only I'd done that"-she gave a troubled smile-"and then I was let off the hook by a couple of love letters."
Maddocks watched her performance with cynical objectivity. The story was too pat and too well polished and he saw Dr. Protheroe's hand at work behind the scenes. "So let me get this straight, Miss Kingsley," he said acidly. "Number one: At the time of Russell Landy's death, you and he were not getting on but you told the London police you were. Number two: You believed your father was capable of putting out a contract on your husband but defended him anyway. Number three: Russell and your best friend were having an affair but you knew nothing about it, and she did not reveal it to the police. Number four: She aborted the child she had conceived either by your then husband or the man who later became your fiance, but neither you nor the London police were ever told about it. Number five: When you discovered your friend and your husband had been having an affair, you kept the information to yourself. Number six: Your best friend, who knew she'd had an affair with your husband and knew also that your husband had been murdered, nevertheless proceeded to resurrect an old affair with your fiance and so persuade him to abandon you for her. Number seven: He and she were subsequently murdered in an identical fashion, though in a different location, to the way your husband was murdered." He arched his eyebrows. "Is that a fair summary of what you've told us?"
"Yes," said Jinx honestly. "To my knowledge, that is accurate-assuming the abortion and the way Meg and Leo were murdered to be true. Those are the only two things I didn't know."
He nodded. "All right, then I have one last question on the Landy murder before we talk about Wallader and Harris. According to the reports we have, you were ruled out of direct involvement because you had a cast-iron alibi? Who gave you the alibi?"
"It was Meg," she said. "I spent the afternoon and early evening with her and then she drove me to the restaurant for seven-thirty. I waited there about an hour, and when Russell didn't show, I took a taxi to the gallery. Isn't that in the report?"
Maddocks ignored the question. "Wouldn't it have been simpler to phone the gallery?"
"I did. There was no answer. So I phoned home but there was no answer there, either."
"Then why assume he was at the gallery? Why bother to take a taxi there?"
"Because it was on the way home."
"But you paid off the taxi before you went inside."
"It was nine o'clock at night and the driver wouldn't let me leave the cab without paying. I think he was afraid I was planning to leg it down the nearest alleyway. He said he'd wait five minutes and if I wasn't back by then, he'd go. As it was, I was back within two, screaming my head off. The driver dialed nine-nine-nine while I sat with Russell, then he waited outside till the ambulance arrived. That's why the police had no trouble tracing him afterwards to support my story."