Gallery Whispers

He smiled. 'I hope I don't have the same problems with my new son. Avril had a boy, three days ago.'

'Congratulations,' said Pringle.

'Thank you. Raymond told me about Andrina's uncle also,' Weston continued. 'I can understand why you made the connection between his suicide and Gay's death.'

'Not suicide. There might be a legal grey area in Mr Murray's case, but as far as we're concerned they're the same, and the same person was involved in both. Did your boy tell you anything else about the chat he and I had?'

'He told me about the other young lady, if that's what you mean. I didn't approve of his treating Andrina that way, but then, I'm not really in a position to throw stones, am I? He didn't tell me who the other girl was, only that she was a friend of Gina, my niece.'

'Professor.' Mackie's tone was sharper than before. 'Have you ever discussed the substance of our first conversation with Mr Simmers?'

Weston nodded. 'I told him about it.'

'And did you tell him about the hypo and the roll of tape being removed from the scene?'

'Yes. I believe I did.'

'Well do us all a favour,' said the superintendent, heavily, 'yourself in particular. Don't talk to him about this one. Okay?'

85

'What's the betting Weston's called him?'

'Not a chance, Clan,' Mackie exclaimed. 'The boy didn't mention Alex's name, even to his father, after your talk with him. The Prof got the same sort of message: he'll have understood it all right.'

This time, Deacey Simmers was waiting for the two policemen in his little office. 'Two superintendents this time,' he exclaimed as he greeted them. 'Your investigation must be in trouble.'

'It was, Mr Simmers,' said Pringle, easing himself into a tightfitting chair, 'until we got lucky. We were looking for this bloke Deacey, see; then we found that we had interviewed him and didn't even know it. See the surprises this job throws up from time to time! 'So, Deacey, tell us about GaynorWeston. Were you and she having an affair?'

Simmers leaned back in his seat, and looked back at the superintendent.

Neither man was smiling. 'I should have asked you this at out first meeting, Mr Pringle. What is all this about?'

Fuck that, thought Pringle. Me Tarzan, you Jane. I ask, you answer. Then, as it had earlier, Bob Skinner's face appeared before his mind's eye. 'In due course, sir,' he said, politely. 'But first, we have to ask you about your relationship with the late Mrs Weston. You did know her, sir, didn't you? You are the Deacey she referred to in her social diary, aren't you?'

'Yes, superintendent, I am.'

'So I ask again, were you and she having an affair?'

'Really, Mr Pringle, is that relevant?'

'Possibly, sir. Answer, please.'

'The word "affair" in the context in which you are using it implies something illicit. That was not the case as far as Gay and I were concerned. We had known each other for many years, from our schooldays in fact: I was at Daniel Stewart's and she was at Mary Erskine. Then we went up to University together. I found myself on the same course as Nolan Weston; he and Gay met and fell in love.'

'Did this upset you?'

'Frankly, it did, for a while at least. Gay and I had had a little fling by that time, but when Nolan came on the scene that was that. I got over it though, and the three of us stayed pals. After we all qualified, I went off to extend my studies. Gay and Nolan got married and had a son, so that tied them to Edinburgh. It didn't hold him back though.

His career developed very well indeed. When I was appointed to my present post eight years or so ago, I found that he and I were colleagues.'

'Did you meet up with Mrs Weston again at that time?'

'I saw her at a couple of parties. About a year after I arrived here, she and Nolan split up.'

'That had nothing to do with you, had it?'

Simmers glared at Pringle, bridling. 'Certainly not,' he snapped.

'So when was your relationship with Mrs Weston renewed?' asked Mackie.

'Not that long ago, actually. After the divorce, she and I would speak occasionally by telephone, me calling her mostly to make sure she was all right. I think we probably met about three times in six years, once accidentally in the street, and the other occasions by arrangement for a drink. During most of that period I was in a relationship myself, so there was no question of us dating as such.

'Then maybe around nine months ago, Gay called me and invited me to Oldbams for dinner. I went out there expecting a party, but it was just the two of us. We talked for longer than we had since our student days. In fact, we hadn't spent that length of time alone together in over twenty years.'

'Did she say why she'd called you like that, out of the blue?'

Simmers shook his head. 'No, she didn't, but I suspected that there was some sort of crisis in her life. She talked about Nolan and their continuing relationship, which I didn't really want to hear, to tell you the truth, since I know Avril very well and like her very much. And she spoke of this ad-man Futcher, which I didn't approve of either for similar reasons.'

'Because he was married?'

'Exactly. For all that though, and although she denied it, I sensed that she was troubled. At the end of the evening… to answer your original question, Mr Pringle… she said, "Come on Deacey, let's go to bed. Maybe you're the one after all." So we slept together, for the first time since the end of our schooldays.

'After that, we saw each other, oh, maybe once a month. On occasion we'd go to the opera, or the theatre, but usually, I'd go out to Oldbarns, we'd have dinner, and I'd stay the night. Always, though, there was this thing that I felt hovering over us. At the time, I hoped that it meant she was thinking about putting an end to her other relationships. Now, of course, I'm convinced that she was worried about the developing growth on her leg.'

'Didn't you ever notice it?'

'No. She always wore jeans when we were together.'

'Not always,' said Mackie, quietly.

'She would only ever get undressed in the dark, superintendent.

Surprisingly for such a strong personality, she was slightly shy. I remember that about her from when we were youngsters.' He sighed.

'Yes, even then.

'The last time we had breakfast together, I asked her to marry me.

She said that I should ask her again in three months.'

'And that was the last time you saw her?'

'Yes,' he said, firmly.

'And when was the last time you saw Anthony Murray?' asked Pringle.

The consultant frowned at him. 'Two days before he died.'

'And Nicola Marston?'

'Nicola…'

'A patient of yours from three years ago.'

'Yes, I remember her. When you have people's lives in your hands, man, you never forget them. The last time I saw her would be at our last consultation in DCO, when I had to tell her that her condition was terminal.'

Simmers looked back at Mackie. 'Look, please tell me what this is about. Otherwise, this interview is at an end.'

'Two patients and a lover, sir, all apparent suicides, with injection involved. The only three such suicides in this part of Scotland in the last three years. And you are the only common factor.'

'Are you accusing me?'

'No, sir, we are not. Not yet, at any rate. If you would give us a sample of your saliva, it might help to eliminate you altogether.'

'In that case,' said Deacey Simmers, 'hold on, while I find a swab.'

'We'll have to be present when you take the sample, sir,' said Pringle.