‘This is absurd,’ she said.
‘So much is absurd,’ Daniel said. ‘Including the idea that you and Gabrielle could exchange identities and get away with it. No offence, but neither of you exactly made a success of your acting careers. Even so, it worked. You played your part as if you were up for an Academy Award, but this performance carried on day in, day out. No one had the faintest idea that you weren’t who you claimed to be. Not even Simon, am I right?’
Tash — he couldn’t help thinking of her as Tash — stared at him. ‘You haven’t any proof of this.’
‘Come on, we’re past that stage, aren’t we?’ He spoke as patiently as any counsellor, but how could you counsel a recidivist murderer? ‘Webber was a brute and somehow you killed him. From what I’m told, no one could blame you. I suppose it was an act of despair. But it meant you were in danger. Webber had plenty of enemies, but he also had ruthless friends. So you did a deal with your friend Natasha. In return for the money Webber had lavished on you, she agreed to swap identities. Why not? She was sick of the low-life in Leeds and she had an incurable wanderlust. It was a chance for a fresh start, for both of you. Something we all yearn for. Believe me, I know.’
‘If you say so.’
‘It was a conjuring trick.’ He mimicked his father’s jokey tone, that wet afternoon with Barrie Gilpin. ‘Hey presto! and you became Natasha. Before our very eyes! she became Gabrielle.’
The clock was still ticking. So loud now, he could scarcely hear himself speak.
‘You took her passport, everything. She headed for America and you ran off across the Pennines and fetched up in the Lakes. Where you couldn’t resist trying your luck with another rich man. Had you heard of Simon through Eldine Webber? Doesn’t matter. You crossed his path and the rest is — well, history.’
‘I love him.’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘And you love the Lakes. “The most perfect place in the world.” Which is why Gabrielle’s return was such a catastrophe. She threatened your security, she could destroy you with one careless word. You gave her money, lots of it, but that didn’t work. She was enjoying herself too much to be bought off so easily. You were terrified, thought you’d never be free from danger.’
Tash didn’t speak. Her expression had frozen, as though all the muscles in her face had ceased to work. If she was still making calculations, he could not guess what they were. Right now, he didn’t care.
‘You’re keen on scapegoats, aren’t you? People to blame make things so much simpler, so much safer. Changing places with Natasha got you off the hook with Eldine Webber’s associates. When you decided that she had to die, you didn’t have far to search for a fall guy. Poor Barrie Gilpin. I suppose you made up the story about his being a Peeping Tom and started all the gossip?’
She moistened her lips. ‘Call it artistic licence.’
‘You persuaded Natasha to meet you. An offer of more money, something like that? But then you killed her and made it look like the work of a maniac. You lured Barrie out on to the fell and then you had a stroke of good fortune. In his panic he lost his footing and plunged into the ravine.’ He paused, trying to stifle his bitterness. ‘It must have been a horrifying way to go. Slow, painful, inescapable death. But so what? Who cares, as long as you are free?’
‘Listen, he may not have peeped through my bedroom windows, but he loved getting an eyeful of my cleavage whenever he could. Whenever he worked well, I wore a low-cut top and no bra, that was his reward.’
‘Talk about performance management, huh?’ Daniel said mirthlessly.
A bleak smile. ‘I never saw anyone so motivated. He wasn’t exactly subtle, your friend. He fancied Natasha like mad, I could tell that from the start. The way he tried to chat her up, it was pitiful to watch. I rang him up that night, pretending to be her. I took her mobile from her bag, so the call couldn’t be traced to me. It was scary, becoming Gabrielle again after so many years, a few minutes after I’d hit her over the head and then — used the axe. I didn’t enjoy that, I promise you, but it had to be done, it was part of the narrative. Just like bundling her body into the four-by-four and taking it up the fell. When I called Barrie, I could almost hear him salivating as I suggested getting it together on the Sacrifice Stone.’
‘He’d have seen it as the chance of a lifetime.’
‘He was a man. Utterly predictable.’ The smile flickered, then died. ‘Don’t look at me that way. It was a matter of survival. Him or me.’
‘No contest, then.’ Anger raged inside him. ‘After you’d dumped the body, I guess you drove back down the fell along the coffin trail. You still had work to do. Clothes to destroy, evidence to eliminate. How much did Simon know, or guess, about what you’d done?’
‘Not a thing, thanks to a sedative. The most terrifying moment was when I thought I’d given him too much and he’d never wake up again. I hated being the cause of the terrible headache he had the next day. But what else could I do? Simon always wanted to protect me and make sure I had everything I wanted. I almost took him into my confidence, but it was too great a risk. Better for only one of us to have to keep the secret. And it all worked out so beautifully.’
There was a dreamy look in her eyes. Almost self-congratulatory. She had the chilly detachment that he presumed was the stock-in-trade of any successful murderer. But in the end, it hadn’t been enough. Maybe Theo had been right that escapists can never escape their fate.
‘Only one thing went wrong. The farmhouse windows look out towards the coffin trail and Jean Allardyce saw you.’
‘I didn’t even realise.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘Jean was often subdued when we were together, but that was her nature. Hardly surprising, when she was sleeping with a man like that. I never guessed she had a clue. No hint of blackmail, all she wanted was for the pair of them to keep working here until it was time to pick up their pension. She was genuinely decent in an old-fashioned way. One of life’s victims, what more can you say? We got on well, of course, she wasn’t too bright. I think she was happy to persuade herself that Barrie was the killer, even if she didn’t believe it deep down. She told me it had preyed on her mind, seeing me bumping down the coffin trail late at night when I was supposed to be tucked up in bed with the flu.’
‘So you hit her on the head, threw her in the sheep dipper, and pulled the cover across to hide her from view.’
‘You make it sound so cruel,’ she said, pouring herself another drink. ‘I didn’t have much choice, did I? From the moment she told me she’d rung the police — she actually apologised — it could only end one way. I tried to allay her suspicions, said I’d been worried that Gabrielle was missing and had gone out looking for her. She was so relieved, said she knew she must have misunderstood. She promised she’d call them again and say she’d made a mistake. But how could I trust her? My life was in her hands, that’s no way to be. Then, when I saw the two of you chatting in her car, I was afraid she’d said something to you.’
He shook his head. ‘You misjudged her. She was confused and unhappy, she didn’t know what to think. But she never betrayed you.’
‘So you told me, but I couldn’t be sure what might happen in future. Suppose she talked to her husband?’
‘You spun her some yarn over tea in the baker’s shop and arranged to meet her the following day. You’re stronger than Jean, she didn’t have a chance once you’d decided to kill her. After that you wanted to point the finger at Allardyce as well as checking that she hadn’t blurted out too much while she was giving me a lift. So you parked up in Tarn Fold and waited for me to show up.’
‘You scared me,’ Tash said, taking a sip of gin. ‘Even before we met, when I heard someone had moved into the Gilpin cottage, someone with the same surname as the detective who interviewed me about Natasha.’
Softly, he said, ‘You fooled my father.’
‘Did I? I was never sure. All the other police officers were sympathetic because I was a kind of victim, I’d lost my friend. And they liked casting sidelong glances at my tits. Your father was different. Gruff and guarded. He intrigued me, because he gave nothing away. I used to lie awake at nights, wondering whether he’d add up two and two. However much care I took over my statements, he never seemed satisfied.’
He cleared his throat. ‘You were lucky with your scapegoats. Barrie fell, quite literally, into a trap. Tom Allardyce you managed to push over the edge in an entirely different way.’
‘One thing Natasha told me about the high rollers in Vegas,’ Tash said. ‘The guys who make the big money make their own luck. They take risks, yes, but they make their calculations first. Good advice, I kept it in mind when I was working out how to get rid of her.’
‘And now,’ he said, ‘your luck’s run out.’
Tick, tick, tick.
‘It ran out the day Allardyce was shot. There I was, thinking the whole mess was sorted and then Simon broke his news. The only man — the only man — who ever understood how to treat me. And I’ve lost him. Twenty minutes before you arrived, I said goodbye but I’d left it too late. He didn’t recognise me. It’s almost over.’
‘I’m sorry about Simon,’ he said awkwardly.
‘Yes, well.’ She pursed her lips. ‘Of course, you’re taking a risk yourself. Killing can become an easy option. A habit. Why should I scruple at one more death?’
Even as she spoke, she put down her glass and walked away from him, towards the corner of the room. He recalled Simon bragging about the thickness of the walls in the tower. Behind closed doors, someone could scream like a dying pig and nobody outside would hear a sound. Tash halted next to a bookcase. On its top, a pair of heavy brass bookends in the shape of lions enclosed a row of Wainwrights. She lifted one of the bookends and a couple of the books tumbled on to the floor.
‘Because it’s pointless,’ he said. ‘You’d never get away with it.’
‘What’s happened to Simon is pointless,’ she said. ‘I could make a sort of statement by killing you. A grand theatrical gesture. Show how pointless our whole fucking lives are — when you get down to it all.’
He felt himself tensing. The living room had two doors, one leading up to the tower, the other linking with the main part of the Hall. He could run if he chose, run back the way they had come. Indecision paralysed him. He’d never talked to a murderer before. What would his father have done?
Tash took a stride towards him. He caught the whiff of alcohol on her breath as she ran her finger along the edge of the bookend. She was caressing the lion’s mane as if fondling a pet.
‘Dusty,’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘That’s what happens when you don’t have a housekeeper to keep things nice and tidy.’
Daniel took a breath. Hannah had told him that the m.o. in the killings of Gabrielle and Jean were the same. They’d both been bludgeoned first, rendered insensible so that the killer could destroy them at leisure.
He could hear Hannah speaking of his father. I saw him face danger, many times, and he never flinched.
So: was he his father’s son?
Neither of them moved.
Tick, tick, tick.
Presently, Tash shook her head. Turning, she replaced the brass lion on top of the bookcase.
‘I think it’s time to go.’
As he watched, she spun on her heel and walked out through the door that led to the tower. The heavy key rattled in the lock. For an instant, he thought he was trapped.
Wrong, wrong, wrong. He could walk back into the main building and she was no longer there to stand in his way. So why would she lock the door?
Shit.
Images suddenly poured into his head, as if someone had opened a sluice-valve. He could hear Aimee’s message on his mobile phone, feel the pounding of his heart as he realised what she meant to do. He was back in Cornmarket, temples throbbing as he raced along the pavement. He could hear excited whispers, see fingers pointing up into the sky. Up to the top of St Michael’s Tower.
Not again.
His limbs unfroze and somehow he stumbled through the door and into the corridor. As he flung open the door that led out to the courtyard, he told himself that he was already too late.
But she was still there, gazing down from the battlements. He was staring into the sun, screwing up his eyes as he tried to focus on the slight figure outlined against the sky. She’d waited for him. He had a chance, a last chance to save her. He cried out:
‘Tash!’
Her reply drifted away in the breeze. He thought she said:
‘Gabrielle.’
His stomach clenched. He was powerless to do anything but watch as she climbed on to the parapet and stepped off into the air.