For Death Comes Softly

Twenty-Three

I couldn’t wait. I didn’t have time to call Julia. That would come later. Within minutes I was in my car and on the way to Robin’s office.

I walked straight in, not even acknowledging the secretary he shared with the business partner I had only once met. Robin, elegant as ever in a dark grey pin-striped suit, was sitting sideways at his big leather-topped desk with his long legs stretched out. His shoes had a mirror shine to them. It occurred to me obliquely that I had never seen him wearing shoes without a deep shine, except perhaps on Abri or at his mother’s farm. And there was always a razor-sharp crease in his trousers. He was talking on the telephone and he looked up enquiringly as I entered, smiled the to-die-for smile and gestured me to a chair.

I ignored the gesture and, remaining standing, tore my wedding ring off my finger and threw it at him. It would have hit him in the face except that he raised his left hand, fending the ring off so that it dropped back on to his desk. He stopped speaking in mid-sentence and replaced the phone in its cradle.

‘It’s strange how people get caught out,’ I said.

I put my hand in my pocket, took out the key to Highpoint, still with the label attached saying ‘Julia’ in my handwriting, and held it in the palm of my hand.

‘Your only mistake,’ I said, glancing down at it. I looked up at him again, genuinely curious. ‘Why didn’t you replace it with Julia’s key after... afterwards?’ Again the slight pause, the stumble, the difficulty in putting the dreadful deed into words. ‘We might never have known,’ I continued.

I studied him carefully, watched the gradual realisation dawn, and saw him turn grey before me. In the space of a minute he aged ten years. His shoulders slumped. He didn’t even try to kid me any more because he knew there was no point. Robin was sensitive to my every mood, to my every thought. He recognised the sea change within me. There was defeat in his voice when he replied, although he managed a wry twisted smile, almost as though he were amused by the absurdity of what he was about to say.

‘Would you believe I lost the key, that there was a hole in my trouser pocket...’ He stopped then, as if only just realising what he had begun to admit.

I had no intention of letting him off the hook. Not this time. Not any more. Robin had made me forget all too often that I was a police officer. At last I hoped I was at least beginning to remember, although I knew perfectly well that I should not really even have been confronting him in the way that I was. But some things in life you just cannot stop yourself doing — and I, of all people, was acutely aware of that.

‘I also know that you flew from London to Cork on the morning after Julia’s fire,’ I told him flatly.

He said nothing. There was an awful blankness in the blue eyes which had so captivated me.

‘So you see,’ I continued conversationally, fighting to keep all emotion out of my voice, ‘I know that you tried to kill Julia, and I know how you did it. I know that you came back to the house when you realised you had missed the Fishguard train, that you overheard my telephone conversation with Julia, and that you took the key to her flat out of the cupboard at home and replaced it with your own old Highpoint one. I am also quite sure now that you abandoned Natasha on the Pencil. And you have forty-four other deaths on your conscience — if you have any conscience. I just wish to God I knew why you did it all.’

I could see that Robin was trying to evaluate what I had told him, the evidence that I had put before him. This time I just waited, although it seemed a very long time before he eventually spoke.

‘Why?’ he repeated, and he was not looking at me, but at some distant place somewhere above and beyond my head. ‘I am a Davey. I am the heir to the legacy of centuries. I could not lose Abri. I could not go down in history as the Davey who lost our island...’ His voice trailed off. He switched his gaze, focusing on me. His voice was unusually rough when he spoke.

‘You could never understand. Why should you? What do you know about the responsibility, the burden, of inheritance? What do you know about land, about old families, their traditions and their fortunes? You have no conception of what any of that means. You never felt a damn thing for Abri.’ He gave a derisory snort. ‘But then, how could you?’ he sneered. ‘A bloody little policewoman from Weston-super-Mare.’

His eyes narrowed, and he spat out the next words. ‘I should never have married you!’

I flinched. In spite of all that I now knew, I hated to hear him say that. I forced myself to maintain control.

‘But surely Natasha understood,’ I said quietly. ‘She came from the right kind of background...’

He interrupted me, his voice unusually high-pitched. ‘She was perfect. Perfect. But when she found out about the mines and the maps I held back from AKEKO she just wouldn’t let up on it. Kept insisting that I hand over the maps, or at least have a full mining survey done. AKEKO would never have gone ahead if they’d been aware of the extent of the network of shafts on Abri. I knew that — but I never believed they were dangerous. They’d been there for 150 years. Natasha would not listen to reason...’

Even at that moment I wondered how he could say that. Forty-four people had died and more than twice as many had been injured, yet he still appeared to think that his had been the voice of reason.

‘She just said she wouldn’t allow me to take risks with other people’s lives...’ he went on.

‘So you decided to take hers. Just like that.’

He looked as if he were going to respond straight away, then changed his mind. Dramatically he switched tack.

‘No, no, I will not give in to you, I will never admit it, never, not any of it,’ he cried. Swiftly he got up from his chair, came around to the front of the desk, took me by both shoulders and began to shake me.

‘How could you do this to me?’ he shouted in my face. ‘How could you? I love you, you stupid bitch. I was obsessed with you from the start. Do you think I would have chosen to get involved with a fucking police detective? I couldn’t help it, I loved you so much.’

‘And I have loved you, Robin,’ I said. Although I was becoming afraid of him I remained surprisingly calm. ‘More than you will probably ever know.’

The words made some kind of impact, I think. He stopped shaking me, and stood back. I could see him physically pulling himself together, trying to clear his thoughts. That public-school training again, I thought obscurely. I had managed to keep hold of the key. Curiously, perhaps, he hadn’t even tried to take it from me. I put it back in my pocket.

‘As for being obsessed with me, Robin, the only obsession you have ever had is Abri Island,’ I carried on. ‘You once told me that you loved the place more than life itself. I now know, without doubt, that to be the absolute truth, and that you were prepared to do anything, put hundreds of lives at risk and even commit cold-blooded murder, anything at all, in order to keep your island.’

His eyes were still blazing. ‘Think what you like,’ he snapped. Then he seemed to make another resolute effort to regain control.

‘In any case,’ he said, in a quieter, less hysterical voice. ‘The evidence you have is still flimsy. Whatever you think you might know and proving it are two different things.’

‘It is my professional opinion that there is enough evidence on which to build a substantial case against you,’ I replied evenly.

He stared at me for a few seconds. You could almost see the wheels turning over inside his head. Once more he changed direction dramatically. He had always been quick to react, quick to grasp at any advantage he might have in however tight a spot. He even conjured up a small to-die-for smile as he played his final card. The card which had invariably been his trump.

He reached out very gently with one hand and touched the side of my face. Suddenly his eyes were smouldering instead of blazing, and his voice was husky when he spoke again.

‘You won’t be able to do it,’ he said. ‘You’d miss what we have too much, wouldn’t you? Remember last night? Remember how you felt inside? I think you must have known then, or very nearly, but you couldn’t stop yourself wanting me, could you? Couldn’t stop your body exploding for me. I’ll bet you’re still tingling from it.’

I could feel the heat of his breath now. He leaned abruptly forward and kissed me on the mouth, his tongue pushing my lips apart, seeking my tongue. He was so confident of his power over me. The nerve of the man was staggering. I willed myself to feel nothing.

Outside I heard the sirens of police cars. Brakes squealed. Doors slammed. Robin heard it too. He stepped back and he looked more surprised than anything else.

‘It’s all over,’ I told him, and I rubbed my mouth against my sleeve to rid myself of his taste.