‘But surely,’ said Jude, ‘Barney Willingdon would be suffering from all that just as much as you did?’
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But oh no. He’s a shifty bastard, and his lawyers are even shiftier. And there was something dodgy going on with his Northern Cypriot partners too. Result of it all is that Barney gets out of all responsibility for the development of the apartments, and I’m landed with the full costs for everything.’
‘But that must’ve been illegal, mustn’t it?’
‘Not as it turned out, no. Like I say, he’s got very shifty lawyers. And mine, I regret to say, were way too honest. And slow. And, now I come to think of it, bloody stupid. Couple of clauses they didn’t pick up on, and there am I, shafted – but totally legally. I have no redress through the courts. I just have to face the music on my own. Which led to me being made bankrupt, losing my house and—’
‘Yes, you told me everything that happened.’ Jude’s sympathy for Fergus McNally was not total. She got the impression that, given the opportunity – and brighter lawyers – he’d have been quite capable of pulling the same kind of deception on Barney. But nonetheless she did say, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘So am I – bloody sorry! And in time Barney Willingdon’s going to be bloody sorry too!’
‘But you say he didn’t do anything illegal?’
‘No, no, he’s far too clever for that. Like I said, I can’t get at him through the courts. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be revenged on him somehow.’ Fergus took a long swallow of beer and then said, with almost frightening intensity, ‘I’ll get the bastard.’
‘Are you talking physical violence?’ asked Jude.
‘No. I hope I won’t be reduced that that. Not that I wouldn’t take great pleasure in bashing the bastard’s face in. But I’d rather get him to experience the kind of public humiliation I’ve had to go through.’
‘You don’t have the means of bankrupting him, do you?’
‘No. I’ve been doing some research into his background, though. The Northern Cyprus apartments aren’t the first dodgy deal he’s been associated with.’
‘But he’d probably have covered his tracks legally in other cases as well.’
‘Yes, but there are a few other people he shafted before me. Both in this country and in Turkey. I’ve been making contact with them, and they’re all more than happy to dish the dirt on Barney Willingdon.’
‘Presumably, they can’t get him on a legal charge any more than you can?’
‘Maybe not. But there’s one guy in particular called Kemal …’
‘Turkish?’
‘Yes. One of the former partners out there. He’s got some very interesting personal stuff on Barney.’
‘Oh? How do you mean – personal?’
‘Have you met his wife?’
‘Henry? Yes.’
‘Well, she is the number two model.’
‘I got that impression.’
‘And what happened to number one model, Zoë, was very interesting.’
‘Oh?’
‘She died in an accident …’
‘Right.’
‘Or rather she died in something that appeared to be an accident.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that this guy I met, Kemal, is pretty convinced that Barney engineered that accident. That he actually murdered his first wife.’
FIVE
Jude was troubled by her encounter with Fergus McNally, who incidentally wouldn’t elaborate further on his reasons for suspecting his former partner of being a murderer. Either Kemal hadn’t told him the circumstances of the first wife’s death or Fergus was keeping the details to himself. She knew she’d been listening to the ramblings of a disappointed man with an axe to grind, but some of the things he’d said about Barney had struck chords with her. Back at the time when they had had their affair (the one that Carole must never find out about), she’d recognized Barney as a chancer – and that had, indeed, been part of his appeal. And it had also been part of the reason why she’d chosen to end the relationship. Though she’d found him charming and sexy – and enjoyed his spontaneous craziness – at a very basic level there was something she didn’t trust about him. She also knew that his business ethics had been at least as dodgy as the ones he followed in his personal life.
And, though the affair had been a long time ago, before either of them was married for the first time, Jude still didn’t have total trust in Barney Willingdon. Now surrounded by the trappings of success with his beautiful Mark Two wife, he remained a chancer. Close to the wind was his natural habitat.
Jude also wondered whether the stress-related back pain for which she had treated Henry Willingdon reflected the strain of sharing her husband’s life of perpetual risk-taking. The perfection of Chantry House might present the ultimate image of security, but Jude knew that no one living with Barney Willingdon would ever feel completely safe. Henry might appear to have him under her thumb, but he was elusive, a hard man to pin down.
Whether Barney Willingdon was capable of having murdered his first wife was, however, another matter altogether. There, Jude thought, Fergus McNally’s animus against his former partner had just got out of control.
The suggestion was an intriguing one, though. Jude wouldn’t mind finding out more about the circumstances of the first Mrs Willingdon’s death.
But any investigation she did conduct was another thing that must be kept a secret from Carole. Her neighbour was already sufficiently ambivalent about the holiday in Turkey. If there was any suggestion that they were there enjoying the hospitality of a murderer, Jude could all too readily predict Carole’s reaction.
Though, actually, she thought she already knew Carole’s decision about the whole holiday idea. Turkey was just too far out of her neighbour’s comfort zone for her to think seriously of going there. Jude went to bed that night, expecting the next day to bring a resounding no from Carole.
It was the telephone that woke her. ‘Hello,’ she said, a little blearily.
‘Just to say I’ve confirmed them.’ Carole’s voice was strong, almost bouncy.
‘Confirmed what?’
‘Well, the flights to Dalaman, obviously.’
‘Oh. Really? Well. Good.’ Jude tried to assemble the diffuse parts of her brain. ‘Is this for a week or a fortnight?’
‘A fortnight. The trouble with just a week is that you don’t relax properly. By the time you’ve untwitched you’re starting to worry about the return journey.’ Carole apparently didn’t find anything odd about repeating Jude’s words back to her almost verbatim as she went on cheerily, ‘We’ll have to make quite an early start on the Monday, but if we catch the five fifty train from Fethering, we’ll be at Gatwick in time.’
‘Or we could just get a cab,’ Jude suggested.
‘No, we don’t want any unnecessary expenditure,’ said Carole quite sharply. Her words reminded Jude that the two of them had rather different attitudes to money. These had really been of little significance when the issue had only been who bought the drinks in the Crown and Anchor, but might feature more forcibly when the two of them were spending a whole fortnight together.
‘Anyway, I must get on,’ continued Carole. ‘Quite a lot to sort out if we’re off a week today.’
‘Oh, there’s not that much to do,’ said Jude, whose holiday preparations would only involve chucking a few garments into a suitcase and ensuring that she had an adequate supply of trashy poolside books.
‘Well, I’ve got a lot to do,’ said Carole primly. ‘Not least finding a suitable kennels for Gulliver.’