‘But why would she do that?’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake! Because she loved Barney. She could see things weren’t going well between Barney and Zoë. She wanted him all to herself.’
‘If she’d do that to one of his wives,’ said Carole quietly, ‘aren’t you worried she might do the same to another one?’
‘Yes, I was very worried about that,’ Henry Willingdon replied almost smugly. ‘But not any more. I know I’m no longer under any threat from Nita Davies.’
TWENTY-FOUR
They couldn’t get any more out of Henry about what she meant by that last remark, except that she claimed to have heard Nita was back in England, looking after her sick mother. But she would not say where she’d got that information from.
In fact, she behaved as if her agenda for their meeting had been dealt with and they didn’t need to talk any further. Jude reckoned the only item on that agenda had been double-checking whether there was a threat of her ever hooking up again with Barney. Henry seemed to consider that that question had been answered and she felt that her marriage was safe from Jude.
And she seemed equally sure that it was safe from Nita. Carole and Jude discussed that over lunch. Following one of the late tour guide’s recommendations, they ate in the Fethiye fish market. Which was excellent.
But they did have a bit of trouble finding it. As they walked through the hot streets of Fethiye, Jude suddenly pointed upwards and burst out laughing.
‘What’s so funny?’
Jude read the words on the sign. ‘“TLOS PROPERTY” – isn’t that wonderful?’
‘In what way?’
‘Well, look – “TLOS”.’
‘Yes, Tlos is a Lycian archaeological site with a Roman Amphitheatre quite near to the seaside resort of Kalkan.’
‘No, but don’t you see why it’s funny … with the word “PROPERTY”?’
‘It means it’s an estate agent, presumably catering for English buyers.’
‘I know it’s an estate agent, but don’t you think it looks like a misprint for “LOST PROPERTY”?’
‘No,’ said Carole.
When they did find it, the Fethiye fish market proved to be a circular tiled building, the central hub of which was a wide circle of fishmongers, surrounded by an outer ring of restaurants against the walls.
Carole was a little inhibited about doing something as ethnic as selecting her own fish, but Jude quickly got into flirtatious banter with one of the salesmen. On his recommendation they each chose a sea bass which looked far too big for a single meal and paid for it from the purple kitty purse.
Then, resisting the blandishments of the other restaurateurs, Carole (who’d consulted her guidebook) walked into one called Reiss Balikcilik. There, Jude ordered another beer (‘I really must limit my beer intake soon – but it’s just so refreshing’) and Carole a glass of white wine (‘that one that tastes a bit like Sauvignon Blanc’). Mezes and salads arrived as they waited for their fish to be cooked.
‘That business about Barney trying to recapture his potency by going back to earlier lovers,’ said Carole. ‘Did that ring true to you?’
‘Oh, yes, I’m afraid so. It would have been in character. And certainly in character for him not to seek medical help for his impotence problem. He’d very much think that was something he could work out for himself – and that it was his wife who was at fault rather than him. A classic case of a bad workman blaming his tools.’ Jude giggled. ‘Though that’s probably not the most apposite expression in the circumstances.’
Their fish arrived. It did look beautifully cooked, and removing the delicious flakes from the bone put a stop to their conversation for a while. Only when the last white morsel had been consumed and their oily lips been wiped clean did Carole say, ‘Well, I think our first priority is still to track down Barney.’
‘I agree. I’ll have one more go at his mobile.’
Jude did. But once again received the message that Barney’s phone was switched off.
‘So it’s back to Tulip Cottage,’ said Carole.
‘Yes. And let’s see if we can find the key in the amphora.’
They could. Both were struck by, but neither commented on, the inconsistency in the Willingdons’ attitude to security. The gates and walls of Tulip Cottage protected it as though it were Fort Knox, and yet a key was left readily available in probably the most obvious place for a would-be intruder to look.
They let themselves in and were suitably impressed by the villa that was revealed. Unlike Morning Glory, Tulip Cottage was a completely new build, not based on any existing structures. But it showed the same high spec and meticulous attention to detail. Barney Willingdon’s villas were very definitely at the luxury end of the market.
But Carole and Jude didn’t have time to take in the beauties of Tulip Cottage. There was something of much more interest on the villa’s gravel driveway.
It was Barney’s white Range Rover. The driver’s side door was open, and there was a neat bullet hole on that side of the windscreen.
As Carole and Jude drew closer, they saw that all the 4 x 4’s tyres were flat, as if they too had been shot at.
On the headrest and back of the driver’s seat were still-wet traces of blood.
Of Barney himself there was no sign.
The women were too shocked to speak, but both turned at the sound of a house door opening.
Erkan had just come out on to the terrace. In his hand there was a pistol.
TWENTY-FIVE
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked in surprisingly good English. He reached up with his free hand to touch a cut on his forehead. The hand came away with blood on it. He swayed slightly.
‘Perhaps you’d better sit down.’ Jude came towards him. He waved her away with the gun, but staggered a bit and did go and sit on one of the poolside chairs.
‘We came here looking for Barney,’ said Carole.
‘So did I.’ His voice was a bit blurred, dozy from the blow he’d received.
Jude gestured to the car. ‘It looks as if you found him.’
‘Yes, I found him. And I shot at him. But he escaped.’
‘Well, look,’ said Carole in her most reasonable voice. ‘If it was Barney you wanted to shoot, then presumably you don’t want to shoot us.’
‘No,’ Erkan conceded.
‘Then perhaps you would be so good as to put that gun down.’
He couldn’t see a reason why he shouldn’t accede to her request, so he laid the pistol on the small table at his side. ‘I will find him, though,’ he asserted, ‘and kill him.’
‘Are you sure you haven’t already killed him?’ asked Carole. ‘There is blood on the seat of his car.’
‘No. When he see me, he gets into car to drive away. I shoot tyres to stop him. Then I shoot at him through windscreen, but he is getting out of car and I only hit his shoulder, I think. Then he throws stone at me.’ He gestured up to his bleeding forehead. ‘For a moment I pass out. When I come round, no sign of Barney. I go in house, look for him, he not there.’
‘May I ask,’ asked Jude gently, ‘why you want to kill him?’
‘He kill my wife,’ came the simple reply.
‘Are you sure he did? Did you see him kill her?’
‘No, but I know when they were to meet – eleven o’clock. And I know where – the tomb. And that is where I find Nita’s body. He must have killed her.’
‘You are talking,’ asked Carole, ‘about the Lycian tomb at Pinara.’
‘Yes. How do you know this?’
‘Because I went there. I found your wife’s body.’
Erkan looked puzzled and even more confused. ‘How you know she would be there?’