Alex Gray - The Riverman

Lorimer looked at her hands twisting the handkerchief round and round. ‘Have you any proof that Barr was behind it all?’ he asked.

For a moment she stared at him then her gaze dropped. ‘No,’ she said in a whisper. ‘He made sure nothing could touch him, didn’t he? We were all in his power, all of us.’

‘But how could you have agreed to kill Duncan Forbes?’ Solly interjected. ‘He was your friend. You were godmother to his son.’

Catherine Devoy opened her eyes wider and looked at him as if seeing the psychologist properly for the first time. ‘Yes. Yes I was, wasn’t I? Good old Aunty Cath. Always there when she was needed.’ Her voice sounded hollow, only a trace of bitterness left. ‘And all the time I thought they were laughing at me. Poor Catherine. Nobody there to love her. Well, they were wrong, you know. They really were. I was loved. Alec loved me for years. Just because he wouldn’t leave that dried-up stick of a wife-’ She stopped suddenly as if realizing for the first time how long she had deluded herself, the mistress whose aspirations are never more than insubstantial dreams. Her jaw hardened. ‘Liz Forbes thought she had it all. Nice house, nice kids, perfect husband. Well, why should she be so happy? And why should Duncan take it all away from me?’

‘Those letters …?’

She nodded silently, her head drooping once more, lips quivering.

Lorimer had seen remorse before, but usually it was tinged with self-pity. As Catherine Devoy’s hands covered her face, he felt certain that the tears beginning to flow were ones of shame.

‘Duncan Forbes was never unfaithful to his wife, was he?’

‘Duncan?’ She choked on his name, then shook her head and sighed. ‘No. He was the perfect husband, wouldn’t look at another woman.’

‘Not even you?’

She looked back at him, her eyes dark with unfathomable sorrow. ‘Especially not at me, Chief Inspector. Nor at any woman who tried to fling herself at him.’

‘You mean Jennifer Hammond?’

She nodded.

‘Please speak for the tape, Miss Devoy.’

‘Jennifer tried it on with everyone. Duncan hated that. And she didn’t like being spurned.’

‘What exactly was her part in all of this?’

‘Jennifer? Didn’t you guess?’ She looked at Lorimer curiously as if nothing could possibly have eluded the man who was unravelling her very existence.

‘She knew who tried to telephone us about Duncan Forbes,’ Lorimer replied evenly.

‘I nearly blew the whole thing sky high with that call. If it hadn’t been for Alec-’ she bit her lip.

‘Alec Barr was with you that night?’

‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘He was waiting at my flat after the party.’ She paused and looked into the middle distance. ‘Alec wanted to celebrate. But how could I? Duncan was out there somewhere in the water, cold, alone. I couldn’t bear the thought of no one finding him. So I tried to telephone.’

‘But why did you consent to murdering Duncan Forbes in the first place?’

Catherine Devoy’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘We had to do it. Alec said it was the only way.’

‘And you spiked Duncan’s drink?’

‘Yes. Only, Jennifer saw me do it. She thought we were having a bit of a laugh. The idea of Duncan seduced by a date rape drug was too good for her to miss.’

‘And did you kill Jennifer Hammond?’

Devoy’s head came up, here eyes meeting his own and before she spoke he knew what her answer would be.

‘Yes.’ She nodded, turning her head away from Lorimer’s commanding gaze as if from a bright light that was hurting her eyes. ‘She was sniffing around Alec,’ she mumbled, ‘knew too much for her own good. I told him we should have got rid of her straight after the party.’

‘And why didn’t you?’ Lorimer’s tone was dangerously smooth.

‘Couldn’t keep his hands off her, could he? Said he had her under control.’ She glared at Lorimer, a sudden anger making her clench her fists. ‘What a fool!’

‘So what made you change your mind?’

‘Oh, it was when she tried a spot of blackmail. Not a clever move, that,’ the woman added, nodding more to herself than to the men in the room. ‘Not a clever move at all.’

‘Catherine Devoy,’ Lorimer began, ‘you are charged with the murders of Duncan Forbes and Jennifer Hammond.’ He continued reading the charge, watching her face as she tried to swallow down her emotion, eyes widening with a sudden apprehension.

‘Take her down,’ Lorimer commanded at last.

They watched as the duty officer laid hands on the woman to march her out. She sidestepped at her touch then, realizing the inevitable, bowed her head letting them lead her away.

Lorimer glanced over at Solly and sighed deeply. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he muttered, shuddering involuntarily as though the woman’s presence still lingered like a draught of chill, malignant air.

Outside the room, Michael Turner was waiting for them. Lorimer put his hand upon the young man’s shoulder. ‘I can’t believe it,’ Turner whispered. ‘They didn’t want me to work for Kirkby Russell at all. It was just a ploy to get rid of me. They had it planned all along.’

Lorimer sat down beside him. ‘Yes,’ he said grimly, recalling the woman’s confession. ‘They only wanted you out of the way. Tipping another accountant into the Clyde would have seemed too obvious, so they came up with a different scheme. Wonder how they came in contact with JJ?’ he mused. ‘Must have had dubious contacts through the international consortium who wanted to take over Jacobs’ bookies,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘Sorry you had to find out like that,’ he added, patting Turner’s arm.

‘It’s just such a shock to know that people you worked with — people you trusted — could do such a thing! I mean JJ was supposed to have me killed as soon as I arrived, wasn’t he?’

Lorimer nodded. ‘Yes, he was. But that old sin, greed, got in the way.’

‘Lucky for me, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ replied Lorimer shortly. It had been nothing short of a miracle that James Jackson had decided to go out on his own. Bits of information had filtered through from the US police since Turner’s arrival. The man found in the woods with Michael Turner’s ID had turned out to be someone long suspected of being behind many contract killings in New York. He’d been sought after by NYPD for years. Jackson had undoubtedly made the execution to effect his own getaway. From being a hired killer, he’d decided to take a chance and cash in on the whole scam for himself. Blackmailing Graham West would have been just the start of it. And he was still out there somewhere, on the run.

Lorimer stood up at last, ‘Look, you’re free to go, but I’d rather you stayed here until we bring Barr in.’

Turner nodded and heaved a sigh. ‘Yes. I will stay.’ He smiled and shook his head wearily. ‘Besides, where have I got to go? Unless my flat’s still up for sale.’ He laughed weakly.

‘Good man, I’ll have one of my officers look after you,’ Lorimer beckoned WPC Irvine across to where the young man sat, head resting on his hands.

*

Solomon Brightman looked at him silently, waiting.

Lorimer put up his hands. ‘Okay, your instincts were right. West didn’t kill them all.’

Solly nodded. ‘I never saw him murdering a woman. It didn’t fit his profile.’ He paused, a habit that still irritated Lorimer. ‘I couldn’t work out which of them had taken it upon themselves to kill their colleagues. None of it seemed to add up until now.’

‘And we still don’t know what’s happened to Malcolm Adams,’ Lorimer reminded him.

He turned to face the window that looked over the city. Was Adams out there somewhere? Well, there was only one course of action to take now. It was time to close the net on Alec Barr. He couldn’t have gone far; his Jaguar had not been spotted on any CCTV cameras leaving the city. Devoy had given them all the information she could about where he had gone, which was not much. He’d told her to keep her mouth shut, but that was before the ghost of Michael Turner had walked into the room and destroyed her nerve.