Peter Robinson - Past Reason Hated

‘Look,’ Banks said, ‘I haven’t told you who passed on the information. Nor am I going to. It’s not important. What counts is that you answer my questions. And if you won’t do it here, you can come down to the police station and answer them.’

‘You can’t make me do that.’ Teresa leaned forward and flicked off a column of ash. ‘Surely?’

‘What did you do after the rehearsal on December the twenty-second?’

‘What? I… I came home.’

‘Straight home?’

‘No. I did some Christmas shopping first. Look-’

‘What time did you get home?’

‘What is this? Are you trying to imply I might have had something to do with Caroline Hartley’s death?’

‘I’m not implying anything, I’m asking questions. Banks pulled out one of his own Silk Cuts and lit up. ‘What time did you get home?’

‘I don’t know. How can I remember? It was ages ago.’

‘Did you go out again?’

‘No. I stayed at home and worked on my role.’

‘You didn’t have a date with Mr Conran?’

‘No. We… I…’

‘Were you still seeing him at that time?’

‘Of course I was.’

‘As a lover?’

‘That’s none of your damn business.’ She mashed her cigarette out and clasped her hands in her lap.

‘When did you and Mr Conran stop being lovers?’

‘I’m not answering that.’

‘But you did stop.’

There was a pause, then she hissed, ‘Yes.’

‘Before Caroline Hartley’s murder?’

‘Yes.’

‘And did Caroline have anything to do with this parting?’

‘No. It was completely amicable on both sides. Things just didn’t work out that way. We’d never been very deeply involved, anyway, if you know what I mean.’

‘A casual affair?’

‘You could call it that, though neither of us is married.’

‘And Caroline Hartley came between you?’

Teresa scratched her palm and looked down.

‘Am I right?’ Banks persisted.

‘Look,’ Teresa answered, ‘what if I say you are? It doesn’t mean anything, does it? It doesn’t mean I’d kill her. I’m not a fanatically jealous woman, but every woman has her pride. Anyway, it wasn’t Caroline I blamed.’

‘Was Conran having an affair with Caroline?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. We didn’t know she was gay, but even so there was something about her, something different. Elusive. She could keep the men at bay while seeming to draw them to her. It’s difficult to explain. No, I don’t think he even saw her outside rehearsals and the pub.’

That seemed to square with what Veronica Shildon had said.

‘But he was attracted to her?’

‘A bit smitten, you might say,’ said Teresa. ‘That was what annoyed me, him chatting her up in public like that when everyone could see, the way he looked at her. That kind of thing. But then James is like that. He goes after anything in a skirt.’

‘Am I to take it you don’t care for him any longer?’

‘Not as a man, no. As a professional, I respect him a great deal.’

‘That’s a very neat distinction.’

‘Surely you sometimes have to work with people you respect but don’t like?’

‘Did you argue over his attentions to Caroline?’

‘I told him to stop drooling over her in public. I found it embarrassing. But that was only a part of it. What I said before was true. It wasn’t much of a relationship to begin with. It had run its course.’

‘Do you think you’ll get this part in Weymouth Sands?

‘James still appreciates me as an actress,’ she said, ‘which is more than he does that gossipy bitch who told you all about my personal life.’

‘Who’s that?’

‘Faith bloody Green, obviously. There’s no need to be coy. You know damn well it was her who told you. And I can guess why.’

‘Why?’

‘Why do you think? Because she couldn’t get him herself.’

‘Did she try?’

Teresa gave Banks a disdainful look. ‘You’ve met Faith, Chief Inspector. What do you think the answer is?’

‘But Conran wasn’t interested?’

‘It appears not.’

‘Any reason?’

‘Not that I know of. Not his type, perhaps. Too much woman, too aggressive… I don’t know. I’m just guessing.’

‘What did he think of her? Did they have any arguments?’

‘If she’s been trying to imply I had a good reason for killing Caroline Hartley, it’s probably because she had an even better one.’

Banks sat up. ‘Why? Over her interest in Conran?’

Teresa sniffed. ‘No. It wasn’t that. I think she soon realized that her tastes run to rougher trade than James. It was just that she had to try, like she does with every man. No, it was something else that happened.’

‘Tell me.’

Teresa leaned forward and lowered her voice dramatically. ‘It was after rehearsal that night, the night Caroline was killed.’

‘What happened?’

‘Most people left early because it was close to Christmas, but James wanted to spend half an hour or so with Faith and myself, just getting the blocking right. Our parts are large and very important, you see. Anyway, James wanted Faith to stay behind, so I left first. But I forgot my scarf, and it was cold outside, so I came back. I don’t think they heard me. I was in the props room, you know, where we leave our coats and bags, and I heard voices out in the auditorium. I’m not a naturally nosy person, but I wondered what was going on. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I walked a little closer and listened. And guess what?’

‘What?’

Teresa smiled. ‘They were arguing. I bet she didn’t tell you about that, did she?’

‘What were they arguing about?’

‘Caroline Hartley. As far as I could gather, James was telling Faith that if she didn’t do a better job of learning her lines, he’d give her part to Caroline.’

‘What was Faith’s reaction?’

‘She walked out in a huff. I had to be quick to hide behind a door without being seen.’

‘Can you remember their exact words?’

‘I can remember what Faith said to James before she left. She said, “You’d do anything to get into that little slut’s pants, wouldn’t you?” I wish I’d been there to see his face. Of course, he can’t have meant it about giving her part away. James would know quite well there wasn’t enough time for Caroline to take over Faith’s role. He was just trying to get her to try a bit harder.’

‘What happened after that?’

‘I don’t know. As soon as Faith had left, I got out of there pretty quickly. I didn’t want to be caught snooping.’

‘Where was Conran?’

‘Still in the auditorium, as far as I know.’

‘Could he have left by the front door?’

Teresa shook her head. ‘No, we always use the back during rehearsals. The front’s kept locked after the gallery closes, unless there’s some sort of an event on.’

‘Who has the key to the back door?’

‘Only Marcia and James from the dramatic society, as far as I know. Usually one or the other would be last to leave. James, more often than not, as Marcia was always first to arrive, and she tended to disappear to the pub early if she knew she wasn’t needed.’

‘What time did this argument occur?’

‘Six. Maybe a little after.’

‘What were you wearing?’

Teresa frowned and sat back in her chair. ‘What do you mean?’

‘What clothes were you wearing?’

‘Me? Jeans, a leather coat, my wool scarf. Same as usual for rehearsals.’

‘What about footwear?’

‘I had my boots on. It is winter, after all. I don’t see what-’

‘And Faith?’

‘I can’t remember. I doubt I paid much attention.’