Dead Beat

Gloria swept into the room and headed straight for the kettle. 'The police have released the rehearsal room,' she a

Jett shuddered. 'No way. Kevin, I want my instruments moved out of there and up to my sitting room.'

'But what about the piano? And the synths?'

'Them too. If I'm going to work, I can't do it in that room, with all the negative energies from her death.'

Kevin nodded in resignation. 'There's a couple of road crew live locally. I'll get them over to sort it out.' He got to his feet and left, followed at a trot by Micky. Gloria finished making her herbal tea and turned to glare at Tamar, who was helping herself to a slice of Jett's toast. If I had my breakfast in an atmosphere like that, I'd be sucking Re

'While you're all here, can I ask when it was that you knew how Moira had been killed?' Time to get to work.

Gloria looked uncertainly at Jett. Tamar covered her toast with strawberry jam and said, 'The first I knew was after I got up that morning. Jett was the only one who knew, and he wasn't in the mood for talking. Besides, PC Plod was standing over us in the drawing room till well after four o'clock. It really wasn't the atmosphere for cosy chats about murder methods.'

'Gloria?' I asked.

“I knew before I went to bed,' she admitted reluctantly. “I went to my office after they told us we could go to bed, and I overheard one of the policemen saying he'd never seen anyone battered to death with a saxophone before.'

I couldn't disprove it, and she couldn't prove it. 'Did you discuss it with anyone else?'

'Of course not,” she retorted, back on her dignity.

'And was there anyone else in your office with you?'

'No. I just wanted to make sure everything was locked up securely before I went to bed.'

'Jett, did you discuss the method of Moira's death with anyone at all apart from me?'

He shook his head. 'Kate, I was too fucked up for conversation. No way did I want to talk about it. Also, you told me to keep my mouth shut, so I knew there had to be a good reason for it.'

I thanked them all, and went off in search of Neil. He was in his office, battering the keyboard of his computer as if it were an old manual typewriter. I winced as I perched on the edge of his desk. 'I can see you're not exactly familiar with the leading edge of modern technology,' I said sarcastically.

He paused and gri

'And if all else fails, read the manual?'

'You got it in one,' he replied, still smiling.

'It's a shame,' I said. 'I always feel sorry for people who don't use their machines to their full potential.'

'How do you mean?' he asked, finally intrigued enough to give me his full attention.

'Well, for example, you must have a comms setup here to send your copy, am I right?'

'You mean the modem and the Hermes Link?' he asked.

That answered one question. Now I knew which electronic mail service he was hooked into. 'That's right,' I said. 'But have you ever used bulletin boards and public domain software?'

He looked at me as if I had lapsed into Mandarin. 'Sorry, Kate, I haven't a clue what you're on about.'

I explained at mind-numbing length about communicating with other users through bulletin boards, about capturing free software programs over the phone lines, and about game-playing via modems. He looked just as dazed and confused as I'd intended. 'I bet you don't even do the things that make it easy on yourself, like date-stamping your files.'

That earned me a blank look. 'Pardon?'

'You date-stamp your files, that way you can check when they were sent and what mailbox they were sent to. A great come-back when people haven't paid you and claim they never had the copy.'

'Oh, right,' he said blankly.

'You want me to show you?' I asked, sidling over beside him. 'Just co

Right according to plan, he co

He gave me a sly grin. 'Be my guest. Maybe I can do you a trade. I'm sure there's one or two things I could teach you.'

How to slide under a stone without disturbing it, perhaps, I thought. Time for a bit of hardball, I decided. 'Neil? How did you hear about the way Moira was killed?'

He shifted in his seat. 'Why do you want to know?' he asked.

'I'm just checking with everyone. Routine. I'm not very accustomed to investigating murder, and there were one or two things I forgot to ask last time around.'

'Obviously, I was dying to find out exactly what had happened, but the cops told us not to talk about it while they had us cooped up in that bloody blue drawing room. Besides, the only person who seemed to know what was going on was Jett. Anyway, after the police told us we could go to bed, I collared Kevin. I told him the best way to control any bad publicity was for me to handle all the stories. I know, I know, it's earned me a few bob, but why not? Anyway, I asked him for the details, and he told me she'd been battered to death in the rehearsal room with a tenor sax.' He smiled disarmingly. I wondered if he knew he'd just given me the last brick in my case.

28

Cracking a case is a unique feeling, a mixture of relief, self-congratulation and a curious sense of deflation. I felt all that and more at Neil's words, and I struggled not to show him any of it. Until the net was ready to close round Kevin, I didn't want anyone to know how much I had on him. I searched my mind for another question to ask Neil, so his last reply wouldn't stick in his mind as the thing that had sent me haring off. 'Have you told Jett about the abortion yet?' I hazarded.

He froze, and a mottled flush spread up from his neck. 'A-abortion,' he stuttered.

I'd got him. Time for the major league bluff. “I know all about it, Neil. And I know you know. I just wondered if you'd told Jett yet.'

He shook his head. 'I don't know what you're on about, Kate, I swear.'

'You can't bullshit me, Neil. Either you co-operate with me, or I go straight to Jett and tell him you're pla

'You're a hard-faced bitch,' he complained, his face the picture of petulance.

'Yeah, but I'm good at it. Now talk. When did you find out about the abortion?'

'A few days before Moira died,' he admitted sulkily.

'Just as a matter of interest, how did you find out?'

'I ran a financial check on her, then I rang the clinic pretending to be Moira's accountant, saying she was now in a position to settle the outstanding amount, and could they send the account to me. I confirmed it was for a termination, and gave them a fake address to send it on to.' He couldn't help himself. He looked smug as a Cheshire Conservative.

'So how did you plan to use the information?' I asked.

He shrugged. 'I thought about telling Jett, but it didn't seem like a good idea when he and Moira were working so closely together. He's not exactly what you'd call a New Man when it comes to abortion and working wives, is he? It would have caused an almighty row, and God knows what would have happened. I decided to hang on and see what happened after the album was finished.'

'You mean you were going to wait till the book came out, then sell it separately, and to hell with the damage it caused?'