Claire McNab: Dead Certain

“I’m sorry…”

Lloyd Clancy laughed contemptuously. “Don’t tell me-you can’t reveal your grubby little sources! Do you believe every bit of gossip anyone tells you?”

“No,” said Carol. “Only the ones that check out.”

Walking back to the car, Anne said, “Who was your grubby little source?”

“Douglas Binns the night we saw Aïda , and he doesn’t strike me as grubby at all…”

As soon as she walked into her office she was given a series of messages, each more urgent than the last, all from Nicole Raeburn. Feeling a mixture of irritation and curiosity, she was about to pick up the receiver when the phone rang.

“Carol Ashton.”

“What have I done to deserve that sharp tone?” said Madeline.

In spite of herself, Carol heard her voice mellow as she said, “I thought you’d be on your way to Brisbane by now.”

“The plane’s delayed, so I’m still at the airport. Queensland, the California of Australia, will have to wait a little longer for me.” Carol heard her take a breath, then she said, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Fine.”

Madeline laughed. “Only fine? What happened to fantastic, terrific and wonderful?”

Her body tingling with an echo of passion, she said calmly, “All those too, of course.”

“I should wrap up the Queensland segments by next Monday. I’ll call you when I get back.”

“Yes, okay.”

Her amusement plain, Madeline said, “Don’t bother sweeping me off my feet with enthusiasm, Carol. I have enough for both of us.”

A light blinked on her handset. “I’ve got another call, Madeline. I’ll have to go.”

Nicole Raeburn’s voice shrieked in her ear. “Inspector! I’ve been trying to get you all morning. There are two things I must know. The first is about your report. When’s it going to be finished?”

“The investigation isn’t complete yet.”

Carol’s patient tone obviously inflamed, rather than calmed. “That’s what you said last time I asked! All you have to say is that he died accidentally! It’s the best thing for everyone, and it’s true!”

Carol was tempted to break the connection, but she held her temper and said neutrally, “What was the second thing, Ms Raeburn?”

Nicole’s voice suddenly developed a cajoling tone. “Actually, Inspector, it’s about Colly’s journal. I wondered if you’d found it?”

Carol’s negative reply pushed Nicole’s voice a notch higher. “You have to find it!”

“Ms Raeburn, why is the journal suddenly so important?”

Her tone became confidential. “Actually, I don’t want this to get out, but I’m talking to a well-known writer about Colly’s biography, and he says he needs everything personal, though of course I’ll decide what goes into the book. And there’ll be a lot from me, too…”

Collis wasn’t the only one in the family with a monstrous ego . “You and your brother were very close…”

This gained a complacent agreement.

“Would he have minded if you’d glanced at his journal?”

There was a pause. “I did, once.”

Carol waited.

“Inspector Ashton, I hope you don’t think…”

“Of course not.” Her soothing words were an encouragement.

Nicole said, “Colly wrote what he really thought about people, and the secrets they told him they didn’t want repeated…”

“How long ago was this, when you glanced at the book?” Carol smiled to herself over “glanced”-she was sure Nicole would have avidly read it.

“A few months ago. I didn’t mean to do it, I just happened to see it…”

“So you didn’t see it recently?”

“Well…” A little girl voice. “I think Colly knew I’d peeked. He started locking the journal in his desk, or taking it with him.”

Carol’s tone was one of mild interest. “So he might have had it with him in the hotel?”

“It isn’t here . I’ve looked everywhere, so Colly must’ve taken it with him.”

“We didn’t find it in the hotel room.”

“Where is it, then?” said Nicole petulantly.

Carol didn’t want to give her a chance to embark upon a fruitless conversation about the whereabouts of the journal, as she was sure whoever had killed Raeburn had taken it. She said, “When you did read a little of it, was there anything in particular you remember?”

“Yes,” said Nicole triumphantly. “He said Alanna Brooks was a bitch. That she was just using him.”

“I don’t quite understand.”

Nicole was angry with Carol’s obtuseness. “She was sleeping with Colly. Taking advantage of him. She didn’t care about him at all, but at first he thought she did.”

“They were having an affair?”

“I just told you so!” Nicole snapped. Then, changing to a note of complaint, “Is it any wonder Colly was so upset he didn’t know what he was doing? That’s why he took too many pills-she made him so unhappy and angry. If you like, she killed him!”

Douglas Binns was anxiously contrite. “Inspector, I’m afraid Miss Brooks is still in the rehearsal room walking through her movements for Turandot .” He coughed apologetically. “You could wait in her dressing room…”

“Would you take us to the rehearsal room, please.”

He hesitated, then said, “Of course.”

Carol and Anne followed him through the familiar low-roofed wide corridors, across the Green Room and down a flight of stairs to a large octagonal room with a high ceiling and mirrored walls. Colored plastic tape laid in patterns lined the polished wooden floor. Alanna Brooks was deep in conversation with a small dark-haired man.

“That’s the conductor,” said Binns in a hushed voice. He seemed to want to keep them occupied so they wouldn’t interrupt what he obviously considered an important conversation. He indicated the tape on the floor. “There’s a different color for each opera. Singers have to know the positions of the flats in each scene, and, of course, where the doors are.” Seeing Anne blinking at a large sign which declared, extraordinarily, NO JUMPING AFTER 7:30, he added, “This rehearsal room’s sandwiched in the middle-the Concert Hall’s above us, and the Drama Theater’s below…”

Carol left him with Anne and strode over to Alanna Brooks, who looked up, startled, as she approached. She muttered an excuse to the conductor, then advanced to meet Carol. “Inspector Ashton? I told Douglas I’d be delayed.”

“It’s necessary I speak with you immediately.”

Alanna’s voice was polite, her expression strained. “Of course. Do you want to go to the Green Room, or my dressing room?”

“Somewhere private.”

The narrow window of the dressing room poured dazzling light into their eyes. With a muttered comment, Alanna pulled curtains across to block the glare. “Please sit down.” She licked her lips. “Now, what is it?”

Carol waited until Anne had notebook and pen ready, then she said, “We interviewed Lloyd Clancy this morning.”

Alanna sat very still. “Yes?” she said.

“Why did you wait so long before threatening to take some action against him? You must have known last weekend what he’d said on Saturday night.”

“Inspector, I didn’t know then. I saw you after Aïda on Friday, then went on to a party. James Kant was there and he told me what Lloyd had said-it was the first I’d heard.”

James Karit was a well-known opera and theater critic and had been one of the four Lloyd Clancy had accosted at the Museum of Modern Art; Carol had no doubt he would corroborate her story. “Do you mean to take Mr. Clancy to court, or is it just a threat to shut him up?”

Alanna narrowed her eyes. “I’m not sure what you’re implying. I don’t need to shut him up, as you put it.”