Her victim offered no resistance as verbal blows thudded in. “And have you seen Ricky since that assignation, since the Sunday before Christmas?” Carole continued harshly.
“No. We had a bit of a tiff that evening and I was worried he was trying to end our relationship. But it turned out all right – that’s what we were talking about in the car. We were making up, saying that we’d got too much going to stop it just like that. Ricky promised he’d ring me over Christmas, but now all this has happened, it must be very difficult for him to…”
There was no need for Carole to ask. She now knew that when they’d last been in the same shelter and the mobile had rung, Anna had been hoping for a call from Ricky. Her expression of disappointment at the time was explained.
Carole moved quickly on to details of timing. “You were seen in Ricky’s car about eight o’clock that Sunday evening…”
“Who saw us?”
“That doesn’t matter. Now, according to Ricky himself – and Lola, come to that – he had gone to take his daughter Polly to catch the seven-thirty-two London train from Fedborough Station. Had he already made the assignation to meet you after he’d done that?”
“No. He called me at about seven-fifteen that evening. He said he couldn’t stop thinking about me and he’d suddenly got half an hour free…and he could pick me up on the corner of my road and…” Her words petered out as she realized how shabby the arrangements sounded.
“You were honoured, weren’t you? A whole half-hour.”
“You don’t know what our relationship was like, Carole,” Anna protested.
“It seems to me I’m getting a pretty fair impression of it. From what you’ve just said, it was like any other hole-in-the-corner adulterous affair. So, you both got back to the shop in his car at about eight, enjoyed half an hour of…each other’s company – and then what? Did Ricky do the gentlemanly thing and drive you back to the end of your road?”
“No, I walked.”
“So he didn’t do the gentlemanly thing. How gallant.”
“Carole, we are in love.”
That plea got the contemptuous snort it deserved. “Tell me, Anna – and this is important – did you see Ricky leave Gallimaufry that evening?”
“No, he was still in the shop when I left.”
“Right. And you say you haven’t seen him since?”
“Haven’t seen him, haven’t heard from him.” The woman was on the verge of further tears. “Do you think the police are likely to question me again?”
Carole shrugged. “If they’re doing their job properly, I think they should.”
“So Lola will find out about Ricky and me?”
Anna’s scarf had slipped down, revealing peroxide blond hair whose roots needed doing. Tears had spread her mascara and her scarlet lipstick was smudged. She looked so crushed and feeble that Carole couldn’t help feeling a surge of pity. “Maybe not,” she replied, with no knowledge to justify the assertion. “It may not be necessary for Lola to be told.”
There was a silence. While they were talking, they hadn’t noticed a thin, cold rain begin to fall. Down at the water’s edge Gulliver and Blackie were engaged in their own independent but vitally important manoeuvres.
“And, Anna, you don’t have an idea why anyone might have wanted to murder Polly Le Bonnier?”
“No idea at all.”
Carole thought it was probably the truth. She had found out everything relevant to the investigation that she was going to find out from Anna Carter. The natural moment had arrived for them to collect their dogs and go their separate ways. But there was still something that was intriguing Carole.
“You keep talking about having come to Fethering to make a new start. What was it you were trying to get away from? A divorce?”
“Something rather more permanent than that,” Anna replied quietly. “My husband died.”
“Oh, I am sorry.”
“Don’t worry. It was nearly four years ago. I’ve…I don’t know what the best expression is…Not ‘got over it’ – well, you don’t get over it – ‘I’ve come to terms with it.’ Yes, that’s probably right. So I’d rather it hadn’t happened, but I can cope with the rest of my life. Or at least cope with most of it. The bit I couldn’t cope with was being treated like a widow. My husband and I had quite a close circle of friends, and of course they all knew…and it wasn’t that they weren’t kind to me, but whatever they did, I got the feeling they could never forget that ‘poor old Jo’s a widow’.”
“Jo?”
“Yes. Another part of the makeover. The hair, the make-up, the name. I was Joanna Carter-Fulbright. So I chopped off the ends of my old name and made myself into ‘Anna Carter’. And I moved down from Carlisle to Fethering, and I cut off all communication with my old friends. To start a new life. And then the first thing I do in that new life…” tears threatened again – “is to begin having an affair with Ricky Bloody Le Bonnier.”
“I’ll be seeing him tonight,” said Carole. She felt calmer now; the flames of anger had subsided to glowing embers. “I’ve been invited to their New Year’s Eve party.”
“Oh, so have I!” The thought seemed to excite Anna.
“But will you be going?”
“Yes, I must.” She turned her tired, tear-washed face to Carole as she murmured intensely, “I can’t not see him.”
Twenty-Eight
That New Year’s Eve you would not have known that Fedingham Court House was a place of mourning. The display of Christmas decorations which Jude had observed on her last visit had been doubled in size, and black-dressed waitresses worked assiduously to see that no one spent a moment without food or drink. From the huge sitting room music blared, and through the door could be seen the live band who were playing.
There was also a huge number of people. A few familiar Fethering and Fedborough faces, but not many. There was a good scattering of older men with gorgeously attired younger wives or girlfriends, who somehow looked as if they must be Ricky’s contacts from the music industry. There were even stars from the world of rock whom Carole could recognize from the media but not put names to. It was clearly a very glamorous party. Carole was glad they’d agreed to leave their coats in the Renault; that made a quick getaway possible if required. All her insecurities about being somewhere where she didn’t know anyone rose immediately to the surface. Her atavistic instinct was to stay very close to her neighbour.
Jude intuitively sensed her unease, and whispered as they entered the hall. “Don’t think of it as a social occasion. Think of it as a stage in our investigation. There’s a lot of information we need to get from the various Le Bonniers.”
Though at that stage finding a Le Bonnier looked like being something of a challenge. No sign of Ricky or Lola. There were so many guests that they must have been off somewhere in the noisy throng doing their hostly duty. The party wasn’t going to offer the most conducive atmosphere for interrogation of murder suspects.
Looking around at the milling guests, Carole also felt sure she’d got the dress code wrong. All the other women were so colourful and flamboyant that she feared her trusty Marks & Spencer’s little black number looked absurdly dingy by comparison. Its eternal aim – to make her look anonymous and invisible – might be having the opposite effect of making her look conspicuous. Even the sparkly snowflake brooch Gaby had given her felt cheap and inappropriate in this environment.
Jude, needless to say, had got her ensemble just right. Without changing her habitual style of a long skirt and wafty tops, she had added a sparkling stole and shimmering glass beads to give the overall impression that she had dressed for a special occasion.