There was another reason for seeing her, as I admitted to myself over a pint in a pub just round the corner from her flat, where I stopped off to give her time to get home from work. Sooner or later, she was going to find out what I’d been up to. Paul would probably tell her the next time they met, whenever that might be. It was even possible his parents might contact her, or she them. Either way, I couldn’t take the risk of her alerting Sir Keith to my activities on Bella’s behalf. It seemed altogether wiser to enlist her in our conspiracy of silence without delay.
I waited until I was confident she’d be back before leaving the pub. In the event, I nearly waited too long, because, when I arrived, she was clearly preparing to go out for the evening. She was looking unusually glamorous, in a short black dress adorned with discreet jewellery. And her hair had a lustre to it that suggested it had been professionally styled that very day.
“Robin! What brings you here?”
“It’s a long story. Do you have time to hear it?”
“I’m afraid not. Rodney’s picking me up in about twenty minutes.” The news that Rodney was still on the scene set my teeth on edge. “He’s taking me to a party. And since it’s being thrown in my honour, I can’t really arrive late, can I?”
“In your honour? What’s the occasion?”
I was momentarily afraid Rodney’s persistence might have lured Sarah into an engagement to marry him. So I was mightily relieved when she replied: “This is the last day of my articles. As of tomorrow, I shall be a fully fledged lawyer.”
“Really? Well, congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“Will you be staying on at Anstey’s?”
“For the time being. Until something better turns up, anyway. If it turns up. To be honest, I can’t help wondering whether my connection with a miscarriage of justice, however remote it may be, will have some effect on my career prospects. Learning the truth from Paul was like grasping a cactus. You just can’t tell how deep some of the spines may sink.”
I smiled consolingly. “You could say that’s why I’m here.”
“I thought it probably was.” She glanced at her watch. “Look, twenty minutes is twenty minutes. Do you want a drink?”
“Thanks. I think I do.”
Perhaps the constraint on time made it easier. Obliged to be swift, I was also succinct, holding back none of the discreditable aspects of my dilemma. What would have been the point? Sarah knew Bella’s nature as well as I did. And she also knew how insoluble my problem was.
“Well,” she said when I’d finished, “I certainly won’t say anything to Daddy. But I still don’t understand what Bella’s trying to achieve. She doesn’t seriously think Paul’s lying, does she?”
“No. I don’t believe she does.”
“Then what’s she hoping you’ll turn up?”
“Grounds for legitimate doubt, I suppose.”
“But so far you’ve drawn a blank?”
“Yes. As complete as it was predictable.”
“Which leaves you in a genuine quandary. How to let Bella down without provoking her into a breach of your agreement.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s tough.” She crossed to the window and looked down into the darkening street. But there was evidently no sign of Rodney. “As a lawyer, I ought to be able to give you some good advice. I’m not sure I can, though.” She turned round and shrugged. “I’m sorry you should have been dragged into this, Robin. You don’t deserve to have been.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Maybe not. But I’m still sorry.”
“Sounds as if you think I should just give up.”
“I suppose I do. The police will take a microscope to every detail of Paul’s story. If there’s a flaw to be found, they’ll find it.”
“But Bella’s not prepared to wait for them. Which would be her problem, except…”
“It’s yours.” Sarah shook her head and sighed. She seemed about to speak when a car drew up outside and sounded its horn. She glanced out, smiled and waved. “That’s Rodney,” she said to me over her shoulder. “I must go.”
“Of course. I’ll come out with you.”
She crossed to where I was standing, grinned awkwardly and clutched my hand, willing me, it seemed, to accept what she was about to say. “Actually, why don’t you wait till I’ve gone, then let yourself out? Rodney doesn’t know anything about this. And I don’t want to have to… Well, you understand, I’m sure.”
“Yes.” I looked at her and nodded in explicit agreement. “I understand.”
Then she frowned, as if some point had just occurred to her. “If you feel you have to go on with this…”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“Then there is one angle you could try approaching it from the police may ignore. They’ll try to find witnesses who saw Paul somewhere else when he claims to have been in Kington. You could look for a witness to Mummy’s whereabouts-or Naylor’s-at the time Paul says he was spying on them at Whistler’s Cot.”
“But there aren’t any witnesses. If there were, they’d have come forward at the trial.”
The car horn sounded again, an impatient triple beep. “What about Howard Marsden? If he knew Mummy as well as we think…”
I frowned, then broke into a smile. “That’s inspired.”
“No,” she said, kissing me briskly and hurrying towards the door. “That’s legal training.” She pulled the door open, then paused on the threshold and looked back at me. “I don’t suppose you’ll get anything of value out of him. But if you do… learn something about Mummy I mean… you will tell me, won’t you?”
“Of course. It’s a promise.”
But it was a promise too quickly given. Only after I’d heard Rodney’s car accelerate away along Caledonia Place did I realize how easily it could conflict with my obligations to Bella. In the circumstances, it was to be hoped Sarah’s supposition about Howard Marsden proved to be correct. Otherwise, I might find myself trying to keep two promises-and breaking both.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sophie Marsden had told me her husband was in the agricultural machinery business and I knew from their telephone number that they lived in or near Ludlow. That led me, without the need of much deduction, to Salop Agritechnics Ltd. of Weeping Cross Lane, Ludlow. And a telephone conversation on Friday morning with its managing director, Howard Marsden.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Timariot? We spoke at the time of that blasted Benefit of the Doubt programme, I remember, but-”
“I’m hoping you’ll agree to meet me, Mr. Marsden. To discuss a matter of considerable urgency. It concerns your relationship with Louise Paxton.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m sorry to be so blunt, but I really have no alternative. And I’m sure you’d agree it’s a subject best discussed face to face.”
“I don’t know what you mean. Louise Paxton was a friend of my wife. That’s the only basis on which I knew her.” But there was an undertone of defeatism in his voice. He must already have despaired of seeing me off with a blustering denial.
“In that case, your display of grief last time we met was rather excessive, wasn’t it?” I waited for him to reply. But he said nothing. Several silent moments passed. Then I pressed on. “Butterbur Lane, Kington, Mr. Marsden. Twenty-seventh of July, nineteen ninety. You nearly drove into me.”
There was a heavily pregnant pause. Eventually, he said: “What’s this about, Mr. Timariot?”
“It’s about Louise.”
“I can’t help you. You’d do better speaking to my wife. She-”
“I’ve already spoken to your wife. Now I need to speak to you.”
Another pause, perhaps the longest. Then he gritted out the words I wanted to hear. “Very well.”