Хилари Боннер - A Moment Of Madness

‘I don’t know. I think she tried to push me away. It’s so hard to remember exactly.’

‘Angel Silver suffered a wound to the back of the head, which is what we think killed her,’ Karen went on. ‘Do you think you could have been responsible for that, John?’

‘I must have been.’ Kelly put his head in his hands again.

‘But how, how could that have happened? Think, John, think.’

‘I just don’t know, I really don’t.’

‘All right.’ Karen decided to change tack. ‘There must have been something, something specific that happened that night which made you lash out like that, John.’

Kelly shrugged.

‘C’mon,’ the DCI prompted. ‘Try to put it into words.’

Kelly smiled, again without humour, his eyes still full of tears.

‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’

‘Try me.’

‘I had reason to suspect that Angel had killed her husband as well as Terry James. That the whole robbery thing was a put-up job. Good reason. I decided to confront her, to make her tell me the truth.’

‘And did she?’ Karen struggled to keep any expression out of her voice.

‘Oh yes, I’m almost sure of it. That was the worst thing of all.’

He told her, then, exactly what Angel had told him, all about Scott and his affair with Bridget Summers and how he’d been planning to leave Angel, about the pre-nuptial agreement and how Angel had plotted to make sure both that she would keep all of Scott’s wealth and never lose her man to another woman. How she had been prepared to kill her husband and another innocent man in order to do that.

‘Her motive was a mixture of greed and pride, and passion too, because she did love Scott, like I loved her, I suppose,’ said Kelly, sounding strangely detached. ‘She was passionate enough about him to kill him, yet there was no way she’d let him leave her.’

Karen had already been given cause to have grave doubts over the events at Maythorpe Manor the night Scott and James had died, but hearing the words, just like that, from the person who had probably been closest to Angel following her husband’s death, was, none the less, quite devastating. Even DS Cooper, watching her conduct the interview with her usual calm professionalism, would have had no idea of the effect Kelly’s revelations were having on the DCI. She was actually quite stunned.

‘So why did you suspect her so strongly, John?’ she asked levelly.

‘It was more than suspecting. There was evidence that pointed directly to her, only I chose to ignore it — well, as best I could...’

His voice tailed off again.

‘What evidence, John? We didn’t find anything.’

‘No.’ Again a brief humourless laugh.

Karen pressed the point until Kelly told her about the video film which had so clearly shown Angel killing Terry James, stabbing him repeatedly, and also all that the video had indicated to him about how Scott may also have died at her hands.

‘So where is that video now?’

‘We burned it.’

‘We?’

‘I confronted Angel with it and she asked me to destroy it. I did her bidding. I pretty darned well always did.’

Kelly was angry with himself, Karen thought. But not nearly as angry as she felt.

Karen rose from her chair.

‘Interview terminated at twelve fifty-five p.m.,’ she announced for the tape, then, without addressing Kelly further, turned on her heel and left the room, gesturing Cooper to follow her.

Once they were outside she turned to the sergeant.

‘What a fucker, Phil,’ she said. ‘So much for Angel Silver as the brave little woman who only wanted to defend her husband.’

‘She must have been a total monster, boss.’

‘Yup. A lethal one too. And when it all comes out there’s going to be hell to pay, you know that, don’t you?’

Cooper nodded. ‘They’ll be looking for scapegoats, boss, won’t they? Our brass, the press, the Home Office even. Anyone involved with the previous investigation and that apology for a trial will be heading the list.’

‘You’re not wrong about that, and no doubt I shall be right at the very top,’ said Karen resignedly as she began to walk along the corridor, Cooper, quietly thoughtful, at her side. They arrived at the door to Karen’s office at the same time as DC Burns, who came hurrying along from the direction of the incident room.

‘The Chief Constable’s Office has been on, boss,’ said Michael Burns. ‘Mr Tomlinson wants to talk to you straight away.’

‘I’ll bet he does,’ muttered Karen. ‘Who took the call?’

‘I did, boss,’ said Burns.

‘And what did you tell them?’

‘That you were interviewing the leading suspect and couldn’t be disturbed, boss,’ said Burns expressionlessly.

Karen shot him a sideways glance. Maybe there was more than there appeared to be to this big muscle-bound lad.

‘Well done, Mike,’ she said approvingly. ‘And I think that interview is going to have to go on for some time. I can’t quite face the chief constable at the moment.’

She beckoned the two detectives to follow her into her office and slumped into the chair at her desk, brushing the remains of that morning’s paperwork casually to one side. She certainly had no time for any of that.

Cooper, without waiting to be asked, sat down opposite her. Burns, still ill at ease with the more informal ways of CID, stood quite stiffly, almost to attention, by the door.

‘For God’s sake, Mike,’ said the DCI, suddenly noticing his awkward stance. ‘Sit down somewhere, will you? You look as if you’re facing a court martial.’

‘Heaven forbid, boss,’ murmured Cooper with a wry smile.

Karen managed a very small smile back. ‘Indeed,’ she said. ‘I can, however, see an internal inquiry and God knows what other shit looming unless we make a damned near miraculous recovery on this one, Phil.’

She leaned forward across her desk, fists clenched, her forehead creased into a frown of concentration.

‘Right! Let’s get at it. I know that Angel’s death at least seems cut and dried. We have a confession and all the evidence seems to back that up. But I’m just not happy, and we certainly can’t afford any more mistakes. I want a check on any other possible suspects. I’d like to talk to Bridget Summers and to Ken James.’

‘I’ll get on to it, boss.’ Phil Cooper was quite serious now.

‘Any word of Angel’s mother, by the way? Do we know if the Met have broken the news to her yet?’

‘Yes, they have, boss. I heard just before we went in to interview Kelly. Apparently she’s on her way to Torquay and she wants to see you.’

Karen nodded. ‘I want to see her too. Though God knows what light she can shed on any of it.’

‘And Rachel Hobbs is no chicken, boss. She’s bound to be in shock.’

‘No doubt,’ said Karen, thinking that Mrs Hobbs wasn’t the only one.

It was, however, Rachel Hobbs who had coached her daughter in the old showbiz maxim of never letting the act drop.

Like Kelly all those months previously, Karen Meadows was surprised by the now seventy-one-year-old woman she had expected to have to treat so carefully.

Mrs Hobbs was immaculately turned out, in her own particular style, all bouffanted platinum-blonde hair, tight tailored suit and high-heeled shoes. If she had shed any tears at all at her daughter’s death, it didn’t show. Whatever her feelings were, she was keeping them to herself. This was no broken mother, rather she was a woman on a mission.

‘My daughter was a very famous woman, the wife of a great star, and once upon a time, quite a star herself,’ Rachel Hobbs announced. ‘I need to know exactly what you think happened to her, and why. I know you’ve got John Kelly in custody, but I find it really hard to believe that he would have hurt Angel. I need to know what’s going on, because my Angel had a certain image. She was somebody. That meant a lot to her, I know, and it meant a lot to me, Detective Chief Inspector. I intend to protect that image with my last breath if I need to. One thing is certain: I will not let her name be tarnished. That’s why I am here.’