‘Late afternoon, early evening. I had dinner with Elaine.’ He wrinkled his jowly face. ‘She made a pudding,’ he said slowly and clearly, as if his meal was his alibi.
‘You weren’t there until quite late that evening, Mr Kerrigan.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Your wife has told us that you didn’t return home until nearly eight o’clock.’
‘Elaine said that?’
‘Yes. And that you had a shower and put your clothes in the wash.’
Paul Kerrigan nodded slowly. ‘That’s not right,’ he said.
‘We just want to know what you did between the time that Ruth Lennox left the flat and the time that you returned home several hours later.’
‘She’s angry with me. She wants to punish me. You must see that.’
‘Are you saying she’s lying about the time you came back?’
‘Everything’s ruined,’ he said. ‘Ruth’s dead and my wife hates me and my sons have contempt for me. And she wants to punish me.’
‘Do you know what contraceptive Ruth Lennox used?’ Karlsson asked.
Paul Kerrigan blinked. ‘Contraceptive? What are you talking about?’
‘You were sleeping with her for ten years. You must have known.’
‘Yes. She had the coil fitted.’
‘You’re telling me you knew she was using contraception.’
‘That’s what I just said.’
‘Yet your wife found condoms in your bicycle pannier.’ Karlsson looked closely at Kerrigan’s swollen, flushed face. ‘If your wife is no longer fertile and Ruth Lennox had an IUD, why would you have condoms?’
Now there was a long silence. Karlsson waited patiently, impassively.
‘It’s complicated,’ said Kerrigan, finally.
‘Then you’d better explain it to me.’
‘I love my wife. You won’t believe that. And we’ve had a good marriage, until now. Ruth didn’t alter that. I had two parallel lives and they didn’t touch. If Elaine hadn’t found out, none of this would have mattered. I just wanted to keep my marriage safe from harm.’
‘You were going to explain about the condoms.’
‘I don’t know how to say this out loud.’
‘But you’re going to have to.’
‘I have needs that my wife can’t meet.’
Karlsson was starting to feel almost queasy but he had to proceed.
‘Which was what Ruth Lennox was for, I suppose.’
Kerrigan made a hopeless gesture. ‘She was at first. But then it became like another marriage. I liked it, in a way. But I needed something else.’
‘And?’
‘There’s been someone else. For a while.’
‘Who?’
‘Do you need to know?’
‘Mr Kerrigan, you don’t need to worry about what I need to know. Just answer my questions.’
‘Her name’s Sammie Kemp. Samantha. She’s done some casual admin work for my company. That’s how we met. It was just fun.’
‘Did Ruth Lennox know of your relationship with Samantha Kemp?’
‘It wasn’t exactly a relationship.’
‘Did she know?’
‘She may have suspected.’
‘You should have told us this before.’
‘It’s got nothing to do with anything.’
‘Did she confront you about it?’
‘What did she expect? She knew I was being unfaithful. She knew I was sleeping with my wife. So …’
Karlsson almost laughed at that. ‘That’s really quite a clever way of almost convincing yourself. But Ruth Lennox didn’t see it like that?’
‘It’s not as if she didn’t know things had run their course.’
‘You were going to leave her?’
‘Not according to her,’ Paul Kerrigan said bitterly, before he could stop himself. A flush spread over his face.
‘Let me get this clear. You were having an affair with another woman, Samantha Kemp, and you wanted to end your relationship with Ruth Lennox but she wouldn’t accept that.’
‘I wanted it to be mutual. No recriminations. Ten good years. Not many people manage that.’
‘But Ruth Lennox didn’t see it that way. Was she angry? Did she even threaten to tell your wife?’
‘She wouldn’t have behaved like that.’
‘Shall we stick for the moment to what you actually did, rather than what you’re claiming she would have done if she hadn’t been murdered?’
‘I was with Sam that Wednesday.’
‘With Samantha Kemp?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s a pity you didn’t tell us this before.’
‘I’m telling you now.’
‘So you went from your Wednesday afternoon with Ruth Lennox to another assignation with Samantha Kemp.’
‘Yes.’
‘Where?’
‘At her flat.’
‘I’ll need her contact details.’
‘She’s got nothing to do with any of this.’
‘She has now.’
‘She won’t be pleased.’
‘You realize this changes everything? You had a secret that only one other person knew. You and Ruth Lennox had to trust each other. That was probably easy as long as you both wanted to continue your affair. For ten years you protected each other from being discovered. The problem arose when one of you wanted to leave.’
‘That’s not how it was.’
‘She had power over you.’
‘You’re making a mistake. She didn’t threaten to expose me and I was with Samantha Kemp from the moment I left the flat until the time I came back home. Check it if you don’t believe me.’
‘Don’t worry, we will.’
‘If that’s all, I have things to do.’
He stood up from the chair, scraping it across the floor. Karlsson stared at him and waited, and eventually he lowered himself once more.
‘I haven’t done anything except be stupid,’ he said.
‘You’ve lied to us.’
‘Not because I killed Ruth. I loved her.’
‘But you were planning to leave?’
‘Not planning in the way you mean. Just aware things were coming to an end.’
‘She could have wrecked your marriage.’
‘She has anyway, hasn’t she? From beyond the grave.’
‘How was she going to make you stay with her?’
‘I’ve already said that she wasn’t. She was just angry. You’re twisting words to suit your suspicions.’
‘I think you’re still withholding information. We will find it out in the end.’
‘There’s nothing to find out.’
‘We’ll see.’
‘I tell you there’s nothing. Under the mess is just more mess.’
Further along the corridor, Yvette was interviewing Zach Greene, Judith Lennox’s boyfriend. He worked part time for a software firm based in a converted warehouse just off Shoreditch High Street. He was a tall, skinny man with small pupils in eyes that were almost yellow. He had bony wrists, long, nicotine-stained fingers, and his brown hair was shaved close to his skull in a soft bristle. Yvette could see a V-shaped scar running from his crown to just above his delicate left ear. He had rosebud lips and shapely eyebrows, like a woman’s, a nose stud and a tattoo just visible above his shirt. Everything about him contradicted everything else: he looked soft and rugged, feeble and aggressive, older than his years and much younger. He smelt of flowers and tobacco. His shirt was a pastel-green and on his feet were stout army boots. He was oddly attractive and a bit creepy, and he made Yvette feel dowdy and deeply unsure of herself.
‘I know that theoretically it’s against the law.’
‘No, it’s definitely against the law.’
‘But why do you assume we were actually having sex?’
‘Judith Lennox says you were. If she’s lying, then say so.’
‘Why do you assume I knew her age?’
‘How old are you?’
‘I’m twenty-eight.’
‘Judith Lennox is fifteen.’
‘She looks older.’
‘That’s a large age difference.’
‘Jude is a young woman. She knows her own mind.’
‘She’s a girl.’
He gave a tiny, almost invisible shrug with one shoulder. ‘Power is what matters, don’t you think?’ he said. ‘The law is there to prevent the abuse of power. In our case, it’s irrelevant. As far as I’m concerned we’re both consenting adults.’
‘The fact remains that she’s a minor. You’re guilty of a criminal offence.’
For a brief moment, anxiety broke the surface. His face puckered. ‘Is that why I’m here?’
‘You’re here because her mother was killed.’
‘Look. I’m really sorry about that but I don’t see the connection.’
‘Did you ever meet Mrs Lennox?’
‘I saw her. I didn’t meet her.’
‘She didn’t know about you?’
‘Jude thought she wouldn’t understand. And I wasn’t going to argue.’
‘You’re quite sure you never met?’
‘I think I’d remember.’
‘And you think that Mrs Lennox wasn’t aware of your existence.’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘Did she suspect that Judith was involved with someone?’
‘I never met the woman. Why don’t you ask Jude?’
‘I’m asking you,’ said Yvette, curtly. She saw him give his tiny smile.
‘As far as I know, she didn’t suspect. But mothers have a way of sensing things, don’t they? So maybe she noticed something was up.’
‘Where were you on the evening she was murdered – Wednesday, the sixth of April?’
‘What? Do you really think I would have killed someone because I didn’t want them to find out about a relationship with their daughter?’
‘It’s a criminal offence. You could go to prison.’
‘This is all crap. She’s nearly sixteen. She’s not a little kid in pigtails with scabby knees. You’ve seen her. Drop-dead gorgeous. I met her at a club. Where you have to be eighteen to get in, by the way. And show your ID.’
‘How long have you been involved with her?’
‘What do you mean by involved?’
‘Oh, please, just give me an answer.’
He closed his eyes. Yvette wondered if he could feel the pulse of her hostility from where he was sitting.
‘I met her nine weeks ago,’ he said. ‘Not long, is it?’
‘And she’s on the Pill?’
‘You’ll have to ask Jude about things like that.’
‘Are you still with her?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know?’
‘No. That’s the truth.’ For a moment, his mask seemed to slip. ‘She couldn’t bear to touch me. She wouldn’t even let me hug her. I think she feels responsible for it all. Does that make sense?’
‘Yes.’
‘Which somehow makes me responsible too.’
‘I see.’
‘Not really responsible,’ he added hastily.
‘No.’
‘So, really, I think it’s over. You should be pleased. I’m legal again.’
‘I wouldn’t say that,’ said Yvette.
That evening, there was a ring at the doorbell of the Lennox house. Russell Lennox heard it from the top of the house and waited for someone else to answer it. But Ted was out and he thought that Judith was too – that was something he ought to know, of course. Ruth would have known. Dora was in her room and already in bed. And, for once, Louise wasn’t in the house, vacuuming with her bloody baby strapped round her, or doing her endless baking. The doorbell rang once more and Russell sighed. He went heavily down the stairs.
He didn’t recognize the woman on the doorstep and she didn’t immediately introduce herself, just stared at him as though she was searching for someone. She was tall and bony rather than thin, with long hair tied loosely back and glasses hanging round her neck on a cord. She was wearing a long patchwork skirt with a muddy hem.
‘I thought I should come.’
‘I’m sorry – who are you?’
She didn’t answer, just raised her eyebrows, almost as though she was amused. ‘You should recognize me,’ she said at last. ‘I’m your partner in humiliation.’
‘Oh! You mean …’
‘Elaine Kerrigan,’ she said, and held out her long slim hand, which Russell took, then didn’t know how to let it go.
‘But why are you here?’ he asked. ‘What do you want?’
‘Want? To see you, I suppose. I mean, see what you look like.’
‘What do I look like?’
‘You look done in,’ she said, and suddenly tears welled in Russell’s eyes.
‘I am.’
‘But really I came to thank you.’
‘What for?’
‘For beating up my husband.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘You gave him a lovely black eye.’
‘You’re on the wrong track.’
‘And a swollen lip so he can’t talk properly. And I don’t have to listen to his lies.’
‘Mrs Kerrigan –’
‘Elaine. You did what I wanted to. I’m grateful.’
Russell was about to protest again, then his face softened in a smile. ‘It was my pleasure,’ he said. ‘You’d better come in. Maybe you’re the only person in the world I want to talk to.’