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TWENTY-FOUR
Harding had phoned ahead and booked himself back into the Great Western Hotel at Paddington. After travelling in from Heathrow, he paused only long enough to check in and dump his bag, then headed for Dulwich. It was late for una
It was gone ten by the time he reached Bedmore Road, but the drawing-room windows at A
The hall light came on. The frosted porch window revealed movement within. “Who’s there?” came the querulous call.
“Tim Harding.”
He heard her engage the chain before inching the door open and peering out at him. “It’s late, Mr. Harding. What do you want?”
“The truth. As opposed to that hogwash you served up on Tuesday.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’m short of time and patience, A
“What?”
“I’m doing my best to restrain Barney from calling in the police. I won’t be able to do so indefinitely unless you come clean with me. It’s up to you.”
A
She was encased in an ankle-length dressing gown, which somehow made her look smaller and feebler than when they had first met. Harding steeled himself not to be taken in by this, however. He knew her to be sharp-witted and highly intelligent-as well as deceitful.
“Perhaps you’d like to tell me exactly what Hayley is alleged to have done,” she said as she closed the door be hind him.
“There’s nothing alleged about it.”
“There is to me.”
“The game’s up, A
A
Logs were burning down in the grate. Chamber music was playing on an invisible hi-fi. A tray, bearing the remnants of a supper, sat on a low table beside an armchair in front of the fire. A hardback novel, tasselled bookmark neatly inserted, lay next to the tray. A
“So.” She cocked her head slightly as she looked at him. “What do you claim Hayley’s done?”
“Are you sure you need me to tell you?”
“Yes.” Her expression gave nothing away. “I am.” She lowered herself into her fireside chair, inviting Harding with a gesture of her hand to take the other.
He set out the events of Wednesday night in as much detail as he could afford to. He made no mention of the tape, of course, fervently hoping A
A
The cabinet was in the corner. Harding poured generous measures for both of them. Cognac for her, Glenfiddich for himself.
“Thank you,” she said as he handed her the glass. “Oh, could you put some more wood on the fire, please? I’m feeling a little chilly.”
He shot her an eyebrow-arched glance as he tonged a couple of logs out of the well-stocked basket, letting her know that playing for time was futile. But the goose pimples visible on her wrist and forearm as she sipped her brandy suggested she really did feel cold. Or afraid.
Flames licked up instantly round the added logs. Harding sat down and gazed across at her, expectantly and insistently. “Anything else?”
“No, thank you.” She took another sip of brandy.
“Well?”
A long, calming sigh escaped her. She closed her eyes for a second or two, then looked directly at him. “I’m not about to apologize to you, Mr. Harding, if that’s what you think. You’re right, of course. My brother Nathan hasn’t spent the years since Kerry’s accident in obsessive pursuit of women who resemble her. Nor did he haunt her hospital bedside. In point of fact, he’s always seemed indifferent to her fate. Perhaps that’s why I considered him fair game in the fiction Hayley and I devised between us to mislead you. Because I’ve never been indifferent to what happened to Kerry. I believe she was murdered by Barney Tozer. He may protest his i
“But not Carol,” put in Harding.
“No.” A
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“Well, as you know, I can fool people. I’m actually quite proficient at it. And I was well aware that Hayley intended to wreak some kind of vengeance on Barney Tozer. But I never for a moment envisaged that it would take such an extreme form. I can’t imagine why Hayley should wish to harm Carol, let alone think of actually killing her.”
“How about because she wanted Barney to experience some of what she felt when you told her Kerry was dead?”
“I suppose… that’s possible.”
“Which is what you wanted too, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but-” She broke off and drew herself up defiantly. “He deserves to be punished for what he did. But not punished in kind. I couldn’t condone that.”
“It hardly matters what you could or couldn’t condone. You aided and abetted it. As I’ll make sure the police appreciate, if and when they’re called in. But it’s when unless you help me find Hayley. Before she does anything else like this.”
“I’m sure that won’t happen. She’s obviously realized violence isn’t-”
“Where is she?”
A