‘Very common in cases of “RIADBSC”,’ said Nessa. ‘The longer the perceived offence has had time to fester, the more violent the explosion when it is finally unleashed.’
‘And why suddenly should all that violence be unleashed?’
‘Well, obviously in this case, because of Burton St Clair’s second marriage. His mistress has nursed the fantasy of his being exclusively hers for many years, put up with all kinds of lapses and infidelities, because finally she believes he will see reason and devote himself to her. No doubt he has also provided her with a plethora of reasons why the two of them cannot be married. But when he remarries someone else, that fantasy is no longer sustainable. The disillusionment is total. The long-term mistress, the woman who broke up his first marriage, realizes the only means she has to prevent her former paramour from the enjoyment of his new-found love is to kill him. So that is what she does.’
‘Hm.’ Carole let this sink in for a moment. Then she said, ‘And can you put a name to this homicidal ex-mistress?’
‘No,’ came the frustrated reply. ‘I suppose the police will have to sort that out.’
‘They still haven’t talked to you about the case?’
‘No. Which is extremely lax of them. You’d have thought, having a homicide expert right on their doorstep, they would have made contact with me.’
‘Perhaps,’ Carole suggested gently, ‘they are unaware that they have a homicide expert on their doorstep?’
‘Maybe you’re right,’ the Professor conceded. ‘Though I am internationally known and respected, that is probably more in academic than police circles. It would probably make sense for me to get in touch and put them out of their misery.’
‘Might be a good idea, yes.’
Nessa Perks nodded to herself and then became aware of her hostess duties. ‘Would you like some more tea?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘I’ll make a fresh pot.’
While the Professor busied herself with her English tea ceremony, Carole reflected that communicating her theory to the police would not be very helpful to Jude’s cause. The scenario Nessa had outlined was all too close to the one that the official enquiry seemed to be favouring.
Once they were both set up with more Earl Grey, Carole ventured to ask the homicide expert where, if she were investigating the murder, she would next direct her enquiries.
‘Oh, I don’t do hands-on investigation,’ said the Professor. ‘I’m a theorist, an armchair detective.’
‘Of course. But who, connected to the case, would you talk to next?’
‘The victim’s second wife, Persephone St Clair.’
Which, Carole reflected, was the first sensible idea Professor Vanessa Perks had had all afternoon.
NINETEEN
Jude was getting sick of what felt to her like house arrest in Woodside Cottage, but at least Zosia had offered her a subject for investigation to which Detective Inspector Rollins could offer no objection. The disappearance of Uncle Pawel could not possibly have anything to do with the murder of Burton St Clair. After the confusions of the last few days, it would do Jude’s soul good to feel that she was helping one of her fellow creatures.
And she was not without ideas for ways of tracking down the old reprobate.
Though Zosia had not voiced the anxiety, it had been clear she was worried that her uncle might be dead. She knew how vulnerable he could be when drunk, and had mentioned the anti-immigrant feeling which seemed to be growing along the South Coast. Her fears had probably also been exacerbated by constant talk in the Crown & Anchor about the murder at the library.
But Jude was not ready to be so pessimistic. There were many other explanations apart from death for the disappearance of someone in Uncle Pawel’s condition. And through her work as a healer, there were plenty of avenues Jude could explore.
But before she could translate her intentions into action, the phone in Woodside Cottage rang. Part of her was relieved to hear the voice of Oliver Parsons.
‘Just calling to bring you up to date on the official investigation into Burton St Clair’s death,’ he said languidly.
‘I thought I told you I’d been warned off showing any interest in that subject.’
‘Yes, you did. But I don’t see why that stops me from ringing and giving you updates.’
‘I’m not so sure.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I think it’s quite possible that my phone’s bugged.’
‘Oh, Jude, now you’re just being paranoid.’
‘Am I?’ She wished she felt as certain as Oliver sounded.
‘Well, even if you are being bugged, I’m at liberty to call you when I think fit. I haven’t been warned off the investigation, have I?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I can assure you I haven’t. And I have the kind of personality for whom being warned off only makes me keener to do whatever I’ve been forbidden. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I have recently been interviewed by the police.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, I’ve now had my one-to-one – one-to-two, I should more accurately say – with Detective Inspector Rollins and Detective Sergeant Knight. Presumably they’re working through everyone who was in the audience on Tuesday night.’
His words gave Jude an absurd little flicker of encouragement. Maybe somebody who’d been at Fethering Library that evening would be able to produce some evidence that would point to the real murderer of Burton St Clair, and that might let her off the hook.
Oliver Parsons’ next words nurtured that hope. ‘Anyway, in the course of interrogating me, Rollins and Knight did let slip something I found of interest.’
‘Oh?’
‘I’d made it clear to them that I was up to speed with the background to the case.’
‘I doubt if they were very pleased to hear that.’
‘I got the impression they’d heard something similar from everyone they’d interviewed. As you know, everyone in Fethering has their own views about the murder.’
‘Yes.’
‘So I didn’t hold back on my own.’
‘I’m sure you didn’t.’
‘And I mentioned what seems to be common knowledge in the village …’ He speeded up as he went through the familiar rigmarole. ‘… that Burton St Clair is believed to have been poisoned by some walnut product infiltrated into the red wine bottle, which subsequently got broken.’ He slowed down again. ‘And that led to an interesting exchange between the two coppers.’ He paused for effect.
‘Oh, come on, Oliver, don’t keep me in suspense!’
‘Well, Detective Inspector Rollins then said, “That’s just speculation. We have no proof that’s how the murder happened.” And her sidekick chipped in, “In fact, we now have forensic proof that that isn’t how it happened.” Well, she nearly bit his head off when he said that. Clearly, he was giving away more information than she thought appropriate. I had the feeling there was already a bit of friction between them.’
‘Oh yes, there certainly was.’ Jude was excited now. ‘So you got the impression that forensic examination of the broken wine bottle had revealed no traces of walnut extract?’
‘That is exactly the impression I got,’ said Oliver.
‘That’s marvellous!’
‘I thought you’d be pleased to hear it.’
‘I am – ecstatic. Because if there was no trace of walnut in the bottle, then I couldn’t have put it there!’
‘Precisely. So, if it was the walnut allergy that killed Burton St Clair, then the offending nut extract must have been fed to him some other way.’
‘Yes.’
‘You don’t have any idea what that other way might have been … do you, Jude?’
She felt really energized by Oliver’s phone call. It offered the first hint of solid proof that she had no connection with Burton St Clair’s murder. Her first instinct was to ring Detective Inspector Rollins immediately and challenge her adversary with the new information.