I made Sam swear he wouldn't mention Libby. There was too much pain involved. Jock had lingering sympathies for her because he felt himself partly to blame ... Sam had lingering guilt for the same reason ... while I swung between a sense of triumph at my vindication, and an ongoing sadness for what I was doing to her children. But somewhere along the line I was outvoted and, at Sam's instigation, Jock brought me up-to-date over the dinner table on the last night of his stay.
The word from "mutual friends," he told me, was that Libby's husband had kicked her out and imposed a restraining order to prevent her having access to her children. Apparently her fuse was so short these days-"too many police asking too many questions"-that she'd taken a steel rod to her eldest daughter and the child had ended up in hospital. More disturbingly, the girls had revealed that beatings had been commonplace whenever Libby's frustrations had reached the boiling point, and now she faced prosecution for child abuse and the inevitable loss of her teaching job.
Jock said she was showing her true colors and he wouldn't blame me for crowing. But Sam just reached for my hand under the table and held it companionably while I pictured myself beside a river ... watching the bodies of Annie's enemies float by...
Note from Ann Butts, which was pushed through the
Ranelaghs' letterbox at number 5 Graham Road the day
before she died. It was addressed to the "Pretty Lady."
30 Graham Road
Richmond
Surrey
November 13, 1978
Dear Pretty Lady (I'm afraid I don't know your name),
I am sorry for calling you honky. I get troubled sometimes and say things I shouldn't. People think it means I'm not a nice person, but the doctor would tell you I can't help myself. I only have cats for friends because they know I don't mean to be rude.
I have tried to talk to you but my tongue gets twisted when I'm nervous. If you come to my house I will let you in, but please forgive me in advance if I call you honky again. It will just mean I'm troubled. (I'm troubled quite a lot at the moment.) I would like a friend very much.
Yours hopefully,
Annie