‘Of course I am,’ he told her, and, as always, he meant it — at the time of speaking.
She sighed. ‘If I ever found you with young kids again... I would kill you.’
She was very convincing. He blinked at her.
‘You will never have cause, I promise you, my darling,’ he said.
She sighed again. ‘Let’s say I believe you. And go on to the second condition. No more secrets.’
He raised one eyebrow.
‘I mean it, Marcus.’
He gave in. ‘What secrets?’
‘The kind of secrets that would put you in jail for the rest of your life.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he said.
She put down her glass. ‘OK Marcus. The game is over. I know more about what you have done than you can possibly imagine. I know more about why than you could ever guess. I know where you have been and where you are heading.’
Marcus’s expression darkened. He downed the remains of his third Bloody Mary in one.
‘Stop talking in riddles,’ he commanded.
‘That’s another thing. Don’t ever again tell me what and what not to do,’ she said.
He sneered at her. She was pleased to see that she was getting through at last, cracking the veneer. That had to be a hopeful sign.
‘You don’t say that in bed,’ he remarked crassly.
‘That was cheap and unworthy of you,’ she fired back.
‘Yes, maybe.’
He was half apologetic, looking down at his empty glass.
She did not put him out of his misery.
‘Look, what are you saying?’ he asked eventually.
‘I’m saying that I know,’ she replied simply.
Her gaze was direct. He found that it was unnerving and opted for bravado. Typical.
‘What do you know?’ he asked. His smile was a toothpaste commercial.
‘For a start I know that you killed Irene Nichols,’ she said.
The smile froze on his face. Like a trapped fox he smelt danger, and like the wily old dog fox that he was, all his senses were suddenly alert. He was going to give nothing away, keep his options open, seek out the extent of the danger. He was at his best in tight corners. His eyes were blank as he stared back at her, meeting her gaze. All she could see was emptiness. The ultimate solution: shut it all out, feel nothing. She waited for him to speak.
‘I think you’ve gone crazy,’ he said.
‘Maybe,’ she replied.
She made her own eyes go blank too. He could see nothing at all in their deep greenness, and he sensed a ruthlessness in her that he had never before realised was there — but then, he had always said they were two of a kind.
She began to talk, keeping her voice low and deliberate, and choosing her words with care. She knew exactly what she was going to do now. She had been over it all again and again in her mind.
Her voice sounded as cold as she had intended.
‘Maybe I’m crazy to want to go on. But I do. I want my share of you, I want all that you have. I’ll go along with you, but only if it’s a true partnership this time.’
He shrugged his shoulders.
‘I don’t know what on earth you are talking about,’ he said.
‘Oh yes you do, Marcus.’
She paused. The silence was long. Eventually she spoke again.
‘Bill Turpin told me,’ she said.
‘Bill Turpin?’ That really put him on red alert. ‘Told you what?’
‘Pretty damn near everything, I’d say.’
He studied her face. When he laughed it sounded dry and hollow, like wind through a rusty drain pipe.
‘Bill Turpin would not talk to you or anybody else,’ he said finally.
‘Maybe, maybe not. But he did tell me.’
‘You’re speaking in riddles again.’
He had walked over to the sink and was rinsing his Bloody Mary glass under the tap. It was something to do, and it meant he could turn his back on her. She could no longer see his face, and he was no longer looking at her. That was a relief to her too. She bit her bottom lip, concentrating hard. One false step now and it was all over.
‘Bill Turpin called me at the paper,’ she went on. ‘He said he wanted to talk to me about you. I was busy and I didn’t take a lot of notice. We always used to think he was half-mad, remember? Then I had the fight at the office. I just walked out, got in the car and drove — West, naturally.
‘On the way I started thinking about Bill, and you, and how it all began, and instead of driving to mother’s as I had intended, I went straight to the cliffs and to Bill’s cottage. I knocked on the front door and there was no reply. I walked round the back and I could see Bill slumped over the kitchen table. The back door was on the latch. I went in. He had fallen across the tin box of goodies the police found. What they didn’t find was Bill Turpin’s diary. I have that.’
‘What diary?’ Mark swung round. It was nice to see him looking pale and shaken.
‘Bill Turpin kept a diary. He wrote down everything. I don’t know why he kept it, but he did. Like I don’t know why he wanted to see me. I never knew him, our only link was you. I don’t know if he wanted to confess, or if he wanted to hook me too. Both unlikely, I should have thought, but he did call me, and I do have the diary.’
Marcus was desperately trying to recover.
‘What do you mean, hook you?’
Jennifer took a deep breath.
‘It was all in the diary. How you went out of control and killed Irene Nichols, how you turned to Bill Turpin for help, how the body was disposed of. And how you have belonged to Bill and his people ever since...’
‘What rubbish,’ he said.
She decided it was time to play her trump. She threw the copies of the Bill Turpin notebook onto the table. The computer codes jumped up at him.
‘I also have his master disc,’ she said. ‘I know about the direct access into G7, and I know the way it works. I know that you have used the Recorder to make an unbelievable fortune. I know there is a driving force behind you.
‘I know that the level of manipulation and corruption you are involved in is staggering, and that you could never get out of it even if you wanted to because of the weaknesses in you that have put you in the position you are in.’
She stopped and looked at him. He didn’t say anything. He was leaning against the sink. She noticed that his hands were trembling, which was encouraging, but he had not broken yet.
She had no choice. It was a risk, but she was going to have to go for the ultimate bluff.
‘And I know you have murdered more than once,’ she blurted out.
His eyes were very bright. He still didn’t say anything.
‘That’s the précised version,’ she went on. ‘I can give you more detail if you wish. It’s all in the diary.’
‘What are you going to do with the diary?’ he asked as casually as he could.
‘That depends on you.’
He just looked at her questioningly.
‘If you do what I want I shall burn it.’
‘And if not?’
It was her turn to shrug.
‘Can I see it?’
‘Do you think I would bring it here? You are a killer after all.’
He turned away. ‘You know I would never hurt you,’ he said softly.
She said nothing.
‘What do you want?’ he asked at last.
‘I want to know everything and I want to be part of everything,’ she said.
‘OK,’ he said.
She smiled. ‘You have to trust me as much as I will have to trust you. I understand your weaknesses and I also know your strengths. I want to be part of it all with you. You have always said we are two of a kind.
‘I want to get to the top, to the very top, at your side. But I have to know everything first, the whole truth, the dangers and rewards we would face together.’