Predisposed To Murder - Chapter Thirty-Seven

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

“If anything happens to Sadie or the baby, I’ll never forgive myself,” said Carol as she rose from her chair and proceeded for the umpteenth time to pace anxiously to and fro

“You mustn’t blame yourself,” Winter told her firmly. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me for not pre-empting what the crazy little bitch would do next.”

“You weren’t to know. Besides, but for your presence of mind to chase after that crazy little bitch, she’d have got clean away. The rest of us were near hysterical, for heaven’s sake. Poor Liam was in a state over Sadie and I wasn’t any help either. I wasn’t really taking anything in, Freddy, not any of it, not Nina semi-conscious in that damn bath or Sadie falling down the bloody stairs. But you came through for us, solid and dependable as always.”

Winter frowned, unsure whether he liked being described as solid and dependable, it sounded too boring for words. “How is Nina?”

“She’s fine as far as I can tell. Honestly, Freddy, the woman’s incredible.”

“She certainly came up trumps offering to help look after the pub while we make this dump a second home.” Winter agreed.

Carol examined the Rolex on her wrist, a wedding present from her late husband, Liam’s father. “Do you realize we’ve been hanging around this bloody hospital for nearly fourteen hours?”

“The locals won’t know what’s hit ’em.” Winter chuckled and wondered how long it would take the press to get wind of the fact that Nina Fox, star of April Showers, had turned barmaid. “I have to confess I didn’t think she had it in her. Nearly gets herself murdered, hasn’t had any more sleep than the rest of us, and now she’s pulling pints!” But Carol was preoccupied with her own thoughts and made no reply.

They were in a comfortable but oppressive room at Kent and Canterbury Hospital, anxiously waiting for news of Sadie. Liam had been allowed to stay with his partner although she was in a bad way.

“Suppose poor Sadie has a miscarriage and loses the baby? How can I live with myself when I hated the idea of her having it in the first place?  Oh, Freddy, I feel so wretched.” Carol burst into tears and refused to be comforted.

The door opened and Liam entered. He looked pale and drawn, but managed a weak smile. “She’s going to be okay, the baby too.”

“That’s fantastic news,” Winter, not a tactile person by nature, flung both arms around the young man and gathered him in a bear hug.

“I’m so pleased,” said Carol, aware the words sounded trite, but they were the first that came into her head.

“Are you, Mum?” Liam gave her a long, reproachful look. “You haven’t been very enthusiastic about the baby so far.”

“That’s not true,” Carol was quick to deny it, but again the words rang more than a trifle hollow.

“Your mother has been desperately afraid for Sadie and the baby,” Winter told him.

Liam appeared less than convinced. “I must go back now, she needs me. I just thought you’d want to know…”

“Of course we do,” Winter acknowledged with a reassuring smile. “We were so worried… both of us,” he emphasized, and Liam threw him a grateful if fragile smile. “Can we see her, just for a minute or so?”

“Sure, but not just yet. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He left the room, sparing his mother a brief, accusing glance before closing the door behind him.

“You could have sounded as if you meant it!” Winter wasted no time rounding on Carol as soon as Liam had disappeared. “You’re the one who should have been giving the lad a big hug...Yes, you, his mother, and not some old grizzly bear like me. What’s the matter with you, woman? Get a grip, for heaven’s sake.”

“But I’m not his mother am I?” she groaned, close to tears.

“Of course you’re his mother,” Winter growled. “You always have been, and always will be as far as the pair of you are concerned or anyone else for that matter. So you and Sean committed perjury with the birth certificate, so what? It was in a good cause. Worse things happen at sea, for crying out loud. You don’t have to look any farther than Pip Sparrow to get a sense of proportion. Huh! I’ll say not.”

“What will happen to her?” Carol gladly changed the subject.

Winter spread his hands in a gesture of mock despair. “Not a lot, most likely. Take a young girl who’s, been through the mill, father in prison, still at school, pressure of revising for exams…you don’t have to know much about the law to add up that little lot and arrive at diminished responsibility.”

“But she won’t get away with it, surely?” Carol was incredulous.

“As near as…give or take a token stretch in some open prison.”

“Broadmoor would be more appropriate, surely?”

“I agree.”

“But she told Nina…” Carol was so angry that she could hardly speak, “She has killed at least four people.”

“Hearsay,” declared Winter, spreading his hands wide and giving a shrug that spoke volumes. “Where’s your evidence? We have to face it, Carol.. Our Pip has a remarkable talent for murder.”

“But how on earth could she have thought she’d get away with killing Sadie?”

“There but for Stanley…” Winter reminded her, “and I must say I’ve been having second thoughts about that dog lately. Not that I consider myself a doggie person, you understand, but I suppose there are exceptions to every rule.”

Carol managed a wan smile. “You don’t fool me one bit, Freddy Winter, you’re very fond of Stanley.”

Winter replied with a noncommittal shrug before continuing, “She wouldn’t have got clean away with killing Sadie, of course.” There would have been marks on Nina’s shoulders, especially so soon after the event. No self-respecting pathologist would have missed that. Nina’s no piece of cake, unlike poor Ruth Manners,” he pointed out, referring to a much older victim in a previous case who had been killed in similar circumstances.

“Of course,” he went on, “the girl’s state of mind is questionable to say the least. Mind you, it’s my opinion she’s perfectly sane. Our Pip knew exactly what she was doing. I have no doubts whatsoever on that score. Oh, yes, she knew what she was doing alright, and enjoyed every minute. As for what the law might have to say on the subject, well, that’s something else.” He paused. “One thing’s for sure. Pip Sparrow needs to be kept out of harm’s way for a very long time, for everyone’s sake including her own.” He paused again and sighed. “You know, Carol, she took some incredible risks. Who knows? Maybe, subconsciously, the poor kid wanted to get caught...” whereupon, a flood of contradictory theories proceeded to grapple with that possibility for several minutes, but without arriving at a verdict.  Winter shook his mane of steely hair as if to clear his head. “Now, about you and Liam…”

“Not now, Freddy, I’m not in the mood.”

“Yes, now, Carol. The months ahead aren’t going to be easy for Liam and Sadie. God knows how long she’ll be stuck in here, maybe until the baby is born. Liam needs us to be strong for him. More than anything else, he needs his mother’s love. You love him and he loves you, very much. How does that Beatles song go? All you need is love, love, love is all you need…” he sang with an excess of enthusiasm but so out of tune that Carol couldn’t help laughing. “That’s better,” he commented approvingly. “You’re so beautiful when you smile and drop dead gorgeous when you laugh…”

“What’s this, compliments? Be careful, Freddy, I might start thinking you care.”

“You know I do.”  Somewhere beneath the banter, each acknowledged what neither could quite put into words. This time she did not avoid the comfort of his arms around her and returned his embrace.

Liam returned sooner than expected to tell them that Sadie was awake but very tired and asking to see them. It crossed his mind that Fred and his mother looked more comfortable with each other than he had seen them in ages. He was pleased. He liked Fred.

“Go on ahead, Freddy, I want a quick word with Liam,”

“She’s not in a ward, Fred. Turn right outside the door here, take a first left then a right at the double doors and it’s room number nine, on the right, about half way down the corridor on the right.”

 Carol was already pushing Winter out of the door, but he managed to turn his head and give her a warning look. Liam intercepted it and groaned inwardly. It had been a long night and the last thing he needed right now was aggravation from his mother. He loved her dearly, but she was inclined to lecture him on how he should live his life from time to time...

Winter closed the door behind him, resisting an impulse to peer through the window at mother and son to reassure himself all was well. Stifling a yawn, he struggled to recall Liam’s directions to Sadie’s room.

“Yes, mum, what is it now?” Liam glared at his mother as if daring her to get up on any high horse.

Carol hesitated. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she began.

“Can’t it wait?”

“No, it can’t”

“Okay, so let’s have it. What do I need to know?”

She couldn’t help thinking how he looked so much like his father and how a guardian angel must have been looking after her for him not to resemble Siobhan Duffy in the least. “I know I’ve been a pain lately but…”

“But…?”

“I love you so much.” She burst into tears and fell into his arms.

Liam held his mother close. This was so unlike her. It must be hormones. All the same, he was as pleased as Punch and sensed the coming months, although tough, would get a lot easier now.

………………………………

“It’s very nice of you both to come and see me,” Max Cutler told Mary Pike and Billy, “I appreciate it, I really do. I don’t get many visitors...apart from my mother,” he felt obliged to add.

“We have a little surprise for you,” said Mary Pike, “Well, Billy has.”

Billy took a paperback book from his pocket and handed it to Max.

“Why, a book of crosswords!” Max was genuinely moved as well as pleased, “Just what the doctor ordered. It gets so boring in here, I can’t tell you. Thanks, Billy. Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” said Billy grinning from ear to ear.

“I love crosswords,” Max began before it dawned on him that Billy had spoken. “Billy, you’re talking! That’s fantastic!” He grabbed the boy’s hand in both of his, shook it until his chest started to hurt and he was forced to lie back on the pillows, still expressing delight.”

“It was just after that detective fellow Fred Winter called,” said Mary Pike choking back tears, “Billy came into the kitchen and I said I’d made a quiche for tea and he said he’d much prefer a Chinese take-away. I started to get cross until I realized what he’d said. Those were the first words I’ve heard him say since…”

“The fire, mum,” said Billy, “and it’s okay, really. It doesn’t scare me to think about it any more.”

“Whatever Mr Winter said, it has certainly worked a miracle where you’re concerned.” Mary Pike regarded her son with undisguised pride. Billy shrugged. “He doesn’t say a lot, but it’s only early days yet,” she told Max over Billy’s shoulder.

Max Cutler nodded, thinking about his mother and Nina Fox. The one he was stuck with while the other...

He was desperate to see Nina if only to explain things. Could they start over again, he wondered?  He hadn’t believed so until he received a letter. He had recognized Nina’s handwriting on the envelope at once, but couldn’t bring himself to open it. He sighed. There would always be Nathan Sparrow’s ghost haunting their every move not to mention Pip’s. But it was, as Billy’s mother had so rightly said, still early days yet.

He cheered up, looked from mother to son and couldn’t help reflecting, with growing optimism, how recent events had proven much could change in even a short period of time. Where there’s life, there’s hope, he told himself, matching Billy’s expression grin for grin.

In this spirit of newly discovered positive thinking, Max took an envelope from a cupboard by the bed where it had lain since his mother had brought it, and grudgingly handed it to him. Annie Cutler hadn’t minced her words, making no attempt to conceal either her anger at his receiving it or annoyance at his adamantly refusing to read it in her presence. “Hasn’t that woman done enough harm? Oh, but what am I saying?  Her sort never knows when best to leave well alone. Nor do you if that soppy look on your face is anything to go by!”

 Now, he opened it and read:

Dear Max,

               I thought you should know that Ray was HIV positive. As I have been recently tested positive as well that means you must be too since I could only have caught it from you. Will you tell Pip or shall I?

Love,

Nina x        

The smile on his lips died.

......................................

“That’s wonderful news, Winter exclaimed, “and, yes, I’ll be sure to pass it on... Goodbye for now, and thanks for calling.” He replaced the receiver and turned to Carol. “That was Mary Pike on the phone. Billy has started talking again. Apparently, he began chatting away non-stop shortly after I left.”

“Don’t tell me,” Carol groaned, “let me guess. Now it’s Freddy Winter, miracle worker!”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic. Maybe I helped clear the boy’s mind, and maybe not. Whatever, he’s a nice kid and I, for one, am thrilled he’s talking again.”

“So am I,” said Carol, “of course I am.” A thought occurred to her, causing her to sit bolt upright in her chair. “Will he testify against Pip, do you think?”

Winter spread his hands in the familiar gesture. “Maybe, but it’s early days yet. More to the point, would anyone believe him?”

“We do,” she pointed out.

“Yes, but would a jury?  I’ll have a word with Lovell, but don’t get your hopes up. I fear it won’t be too many years before our Pip is back in the bosom of society leading an apparently healthy, normal life with no one any more the wiser than they were before.”

“Heaven help society,” muttered Carol.

“Hear, hear,” Winter agreed, sat down opposite her and grabbed a newspaper.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” she warned him, “since you’re driving me back to Camden tonight, although why Liam wouldn’t let me stay and help him run the pub is beyond me.”

“You do have a job,” he reminded her.

“Only part-time though. I could give it up and find another easily enough.”

“Ah, yes. But would you ever find another boss who will let you twist him around your little finger whenever you want to take time off?” Winter put it to her, correctly interpreting her silence as an acknowledgement that his point had struck home.

“I’m bored, Freddy,” Carol declared sulkily. “Helping out at The Green Man would have been fun.”

“Liam is capable enough. He doesn’t need his mother getting under his feet all the time,” Winter felt obliged to say, “but if you’re bored…” His voice tailed off indecisively.

“Yes?” she prompted.

“Well, you could always move in here with me.”

“Huh!”

“Why not…? We make a good team, you and I. And there’s plenty to do. The garden, for a start, it’s a jungle out there. You wouldn’t have time to get bored.” Carol promptly seized a cushion and flung it at him. “Hey, watch it!” he shouted, laughing.

“If you think I’m moving in with you just to sort out your bloody garden, Freddy Winter, you can think again.”

We do make a good team though,” he repeated, “and, well, we love each other, sort of, don’t we?” Carol’s expression instantly softened. “Stanley would adore it if you moved in, wouldn’t you boy?” The little white dog wagged its tail, cocked its head on one side and gave Winter a disparaging look as if to say, you’ll have to do better than this.

Winter grinned sheepishly at Carol. “I do love you, you know.”

“I know,” was all Carol quite trusted herself to say.

“So you will?”

“I’ll give it some thought,” she promised.

“You’re supposed to say you love me too,” Winter growled.

“I need to give that some thought too,” she retorted, but not unkindly.

“Yes, well, you know what thought did…” Winter muttered while pretending to scour the headlines, “it killed off more damn cats than curiosity.”

Carol got up and went to sit on the arm of his chair. Stanley leapt forward and sprang into her lap so that she almost lost her balance. Laughing aloud, she scooped up the little dog and stroked its head with one hand. Violet eyes met brown. “Another fine mess you’ve got me into, Stanley,” she giggled. The dog licked her face and wagged its tail.

Knowing full well he’d pretend that he hated it, as he always did, Carol ran the fingers of her free hand affectionately though Winter’s stubborn shock of grey-white hair.

Winter frowned, the more so for the way his heart skipped a beat, laid the newspaper aside and tilted his head back for a better view of the violet eyes smiling down at him. He felt his lips twitch and failed to prevent them forming a soppy grin.

Stanley barked approvingly.

The End

Author’s Note: Apologies for the fact that Google has messed with the font for various chapters. The book is not available in print form, but I hope to upload an e-edition later this year. A new serial will start on Monday 1^st October. (I will post a synopsis tomorrow.)

Predisposed To Murder - Chapter Thirty-Six

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“Colin, Wait!”  It was a very confused, increasingly agitated Nina who shouted after her brother, chased after him, caught up with him on the front garden path and grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. “You can’t leave things the way they are,” she gasped, “Please, Colin, believe me this isn’t the way. Whatever it is you’ve done, we can see this through together. But you have to face up to those things, you can’t just run away. Please, Colin, stop and think before it’s too late…” she pleaded, fixing tearful, imploring eyes on her brother’s frank expression of incandescent rage.

“Let go of me, you stupid bitch!” he yelled at her, “You don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Then tell me,” she begged, “and help me to understand. Let me help you. I’m always here for you, you know I am.”

“God, you sound just like Mum. I’m always here for you,” he mimicked cruelly, “You’re so much like her, you know…beautiful, generous to a fault and as thick as two planks. She should have left the old man years ago, but she always thought she could change him. It didn’t matter the pair of them were tearing us all apart. She didn’t even have the guts to kick him out in the end. He just upped and left. I dare say he got bored with hearing the same old bullshit year in, year out. And now you’re getting chummy with him all over again. So why is that, sis? Think he’s changed, do you? Do you honestly think that man is capable of giving a toss about anyone but himself?  If you do, you’re even a bigger fool than Mum. Well, I’m…

“So very like him, you make me want to throw up!” Nina screamed.

“You bitch!” He slapped her so hard that she cried out and reeled from the blow, hand on her cheek. “How can you say that?” he raged. “It’s a lie, a filthy lie. I’ve made something of myself, not like that piece of garbage. Why, he’s no better than your friend Max or the rest of your pretty hangers-on, a bunch of losers the lot of ’em. You’re not much better yourself. You may be the goose that lays their golden eggs, for now, but how long do you think that will last? It’s not as if you can even act. You’re just another flavour of the month TV celebrity. Take a tip from me, sis. Invest some cash while you’ve still got any coming in. It will dry up soon enough, believe you me.”

Over his right shoulder, Nina had been watching two men approach with caution while trying to decide whether she should warn him. Much of his outburst she hadn’t heard. Her cheek stung. Her head was spinning. This can’t be happening, she kept telling herself. Then she caught the last few sentences flung at her, his expression one of such bitterness and contempt that she could barely think let alone come to any decision. So she said nothing and did nothing.

His sister’s silence and reproachful look did nothing to contain a fury in Colin Fox that had simmered for years and was always sure to erupt sooner or later as it did now. Even so, it struck him there was more than a pathetic forlornness about her, as if she was past caring. Or could it be something else? Damn it if she isn’t looking so damn smug. Does she know something I don’t?  Too late, he swung round just as DC Mike Pritchard leapt forward.

After a brief struggle, Pritchard took great satisfaction in placing first one of his prisoner’s wrists and then the other in handcuffs although a colleague had to step in to help restrain the furious Fox.

“Bitch…!” Fox spat at his sister. “Let go of me, you bastards!” he yelled at both men who, for all their sturdy build, were hard pressed to restrain a near hysterical Fox. Pritchard winced as it felt both arms were being wrenched from their sockets. As if on cue, two uniformed officers appeared at the gate and ran to assist.

Nina couldn’t bear to watch. She had already turned her back and was walking slowly back to the house.

…………………………………

“Don’t fuss so, woman,” Winter growled, “it’s only my shoulder that’s hit not my heart, and it’s only a graze.” He continued to complain while Carol cleaned the wound and applied a makeshift sling.

“You don’t fool me one bit, Freddy Winter. You like nothing better than being fussed over. Show me a man that doesn’t! Well, make the most of it. Once we get you to a hospital, the nurses won’t be anywhere near as gentle as me. You should be so lucky. No, they’ll rough you up good and proper. and it will be no more than you deserve. What on earth were you thinking of, tackling a man years younger and pointing a gun at you? He might of…” her voice broke.

“Ouch!” Winter gave an involuntary yelp as Carol secured the sling with more force than she intended. “I don’t need to go hospital,” he insisted.

“She has a point, Fred,” said Pritchard, grinning from ear to ear. “Him being a younger man and all that...He might have killed you.”

“But he didn’t,” Winter was quick to point out albeit his customary gruffness was subtly muted, a fact not lost upon either Carol or Pritchard.

“Whatever, you did us a huge favour,” said Pritchard with a cheerfulness guaranteed to send   Winter’s hackles soaring as the D C’s manner invariably did. “We’ve been after Fox for ages. As for those letters of Cutler’s that he was after...Well, at first glance I’d say they’ll be a big help in tying up some loose ends. In fact, the entire contents of that box will help put some very nasty characters away for a very long time.”

“I don’t suppose you’d like to elaborate?” Winter suggested.

“All in good time, Fred, all in good time. Let’s get you fixed up good and proper at the hospital first.

“How’s Cutler?”

“Alive. But only just,” Pritchard added grimly, “His mother went with him in the ambulance.”

“If I’d had my way, Freddy Winter, you’d have gone with them,” said Carol, “but, no, you have to play the martyr to the bloody end.”

“I’m hardly in the same category as Max Cutler,” Winter pointed out, “but if it makes you happy, you can drive me to the hospital and they can look me over. However, I can assure you I am perfectly okay. I passed out, that’s all. All the excitement must have got to me.”

“Your blood pressure more likely,” she retorted although her expression was anything but severe.

“Nina?” Winter wanted to know.

“Nina is fine.”  It was Nina herself who answered as she entered the kitchen looking very pale, and sat down. “You gave us all a nasty scare, Mr Winter.”

Winter grinned. “There’s life in the old dog yet.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.” Nina hesitated and looked, slightly embarrassed, at Carol. “I really can’t face going back to Chelsea. Once the media get a whiff of this they’ll make my life hell. I can handle it, but not right now. I don’t suppose…

“You must come to Herne Bay with us.”

“We’re going to Herne Bay?” Winter was pleased.

“Just as soon as they’ve finished with you at the hospital,” Carol told him with a look that defied him to argue with her at his peril.

Winter shrugged. He knew when he was beaten and gave Pritchard a look of mock despair before adding, “You won’t need us tonight will, you Mike? Tell me you won’t need us tonight…”

Pritchard shook his head. “You’ll all have to make statements, of course, but not right away. I dare say you’ll want to get some rest. Besides,” he added and gave Winter a knowing wink, “I have other fish to fry tonight.”

“I bet you have,” said Winter, “and I can’t wait to hear all the gory details.”

Pritchard merely shrugged and pursed his lips in a manner that told Winter he could count on having to wait a long time.

………………………………

Much to Winter’s satisfaction, the hospital did not keep him long. A doctor confirmed the wound to his shoulder was much worse than it looked, only superficial in fact, and needing just a few stitches.

“Rest the shoulder for a few days,” advised an elderly bespectacled man wearing a very obvious toupee before leaving a male nurse to apply the stitches and a fresh sling. “Otherwise, there’s no cause for concern. You’re lucky the other fellow was such a poor shot.” He laughed at his own feeble joke.

Winter laughed too. The male nurse grinned and didn’t need telling that the sound Winter made was uncomplimentary to say the least. For his part, Winter instantly warmed to the young man.

The journey to Herne Bay was uneventful. Carol had phoned earlier to say what time they expected to arrive. She’d also mentioned that she and Freddy had a friend with them, but neglected to say at first it was Nina Fox. “Are you sure that’s alright, Sadie? I know it’s an imposition, but... well, frankly, Freddy and I are feeling a bit the worse for wear and poor Nina’s had a hard time of it too. What? Yes, Nina Fox... Yes, that Nina Fox. But she doesn’t want any fuss. She just needs to get away for a couple of days. Yes, I know Herne Bay isn’t the French Riviera, but right now it’s just what the doctor ordered. Yes, I’m sure. Oh, thank you. See you later.” Breathing a sigh of relief, she had only to lay the phone on the dashboard, turn the ignition key, and they were off.

No one spoke much except to make the occasional inconsequential remark to remind the others they were still there. Stanley, in seventh heaven on Nina’s lap, slept the whole time. Nina brooded about Colin’s likely fate and wondered how she would tell her father his son looked certain to go to jail for a long time. How could Colin have said those terrible things to me? she asked herself over and over, but came up with neither answer nor excuses.

As Nina’s thoughts turned to Pip, she sunk into an even deeper gloom. She had called the girl to say she wouldn’t be coming home that night, possibly not for a couple of days. Pip had sounded much the same as ever, taking everything in her stride. There had been nothing in her tone to suggest she even remembered confessing to murder. What was she, Nina, supposed to make of those confessions, for heaven’s sake? How could anyone in their right mind take them seriously?  They wouldn’t of course. So why should she? The whole thing is absurd. Take her mother, for example. True, she and Pip hadn’t got on but…any suggestion that Pip may have killed her mother was too horrible for words. I must talk to Fred Winter about Pip and the sooner the better. He’ll know what to do for the best….

Winter, for his part, was being hard on himself. The doctor at the hospital had been right about one thing. He, Fred Winter, had been lucky. “Incredibly lucky,” he muttered under his breath. Maybe Pritchard was right, implying I’m too old for this kind of caper. He’d come through it, though, hadn’t he? And he’d found Max Cutler, even if it had meant opening a can or two of worms along the way and nearly getting himself killed into the bargain.

He frowned and tried to think about something else, only to find himself dwelling on Pip Sparrow. Let it go, Fred, let it go, he kept telling himself. But how could he? If I’m right, the girl is a psychopath. If I’m wrong, well, it wouldn’t be the first time...

Carol concentrated on the road ahead. From time to time Freddy made grunting noises, but she ignored him. If he’s fishing for conversation, let him try Nina or the dog.

What should she do about Liam? Should she tell him the truth?  I owe him that, surely? On the other hand, it was unlikely that he would ever find out…unless his real mother should ever turn up, and that was about as likely as pigs flying over Hampstead Heath. Besides, it’s my name on the birth certificate. The woman would not be able to prove a thing although…There is DNA testing these days...just suppose…? But, no, she was just being silly… Oh, but am I though?

Liam has every right to know, Carol told herself, reflecting unhappily for the umpteenth time that his unborn child, too, deserved to know from whom he or she had inherited at least some of their genes. It wasn’t as if she had been able to obliterate the woman’s name from her memory directory. “I wish!” she murmured aloud and bit her lip, relieved no one appeared to have heard. Meanwhile, Siobhan Duffy’s name flaunted itself at every turn, performing an obscene dance among cat’s eyes that as a driver she could not ignore, but as a mother she’d gladly have given her life to extinguish once and for all.

By the time the trio arrived at The Green Man, they were exhausted. Only Stanley found the energy to leap from the back seat, tail wagging, to greet Sadie and Liam with much barking and exuberant pawing at trouser legs before rushing off in search of his elderly canine pal, Ben.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” a concerned Sadie asked Winter several times.

“I’m fine, it’s just a temporary inconvenience, that’s all.”

“Your drinking arm too, that’s even worse,” commented Liam good-naturedly.

“I’m ambidextrous when it comes to a decent pint,” Winter assured him with a grin and the two men disappeared inside.

“Welcome to Herne Bay Miss Fox,” Sadie turned to Nina with a broad smile.

“Nina, please.”

“You’re very welcome Nina,” Sadie repeated and impulsively gave the younger woman a hug.

“You’ve no idea how good it feels to be here,” said Nina with feeling. She liked this warm, hugely pregnant woman immediately.”

“Herne Bay isn’t London,” Sadie laughed, “but we like it, Liam and I. Now, come through to the sitting room. I dare say you’re both starving. Men must drink and women must eat, that’s what I always say…”

As the three women entered the pub by a private side entrance, the two men were already chatting idly over a couple of beers.

“Would you think me terribly rude if I took a bath?” Nina asked. “Whenever I need to unwind, a long hot bath always does the trick.”

“For me too,” said Sadie, “I’ll find you some clean towels and you can borrow my bathrobe if you want.”

“That would be wonderful if you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Sadie reassured her guest cheerfully and went in search of towels.

“Nothing’s too much trouble for Sadie,” Carol told Nina.

She seems a lovely person,” Nina enthused.

“She is,” Carol agreed and instantly felt guilty for harbouring unkind thoughts of late towards her prospective daughter-in-law. Not, she hastily reminded herself, that she had ever felt anything but affection for Sadie. It was just that…Oh, why does life have to be so complicated?  Rather than attempt to answer the question, she led Nina into the kitchen and made a fresh pot of tea.

Sadie soon joined them. “The bath water is running and I’ve left out clean towels and a robe. The bathroom is upstairs, second door on the right. Oh, and your welcome to my oil of lavender too. You can take a cup of tea up with you if you like as well. Liam always brings me a cup if he’s around when I take a bath. A disgusting habit, I know, but who cares?” All three women laughed companionably, and Nina especially felt more relaxed than she had in ages.

Nina took Sadie at her word and carried a steaming mug of tea to the bathroom, depositing it on a tiled surface within easy reach. Feeling more relaxed than she had in ages, she lay back, inhaling the pungent, curiously invigorating scent of lavender, let the water come up to her chin, and closed her eyes.

Facing her, on a shelf by the window, a circular mirror stood on a stand. If she hadn’t closed her eyes, Nina would have seen the door open ajar quickly followed by Pip’s face and the glazed, hauntingly menacing expression it wore. As it was, she neither saw nor heard a thing. In her mind’s eye she was a little girl again, part of a happy, loving family. She could see her parents and Colin. They, too, were young. They were in a children’s playground. She could hear laughter. Some of it was hers and Colin’s. She was wearing a green dress. He wore jeans and a red sweat tee shirt. They were playing on a seesaw, both parents watching and holding hands like young lovers.

Had it ever happened quite like that, Nina wondered?  Or was this nothing more than wishful thinking, a wistful looking back through a rose tinted haze?

Before Nina could begin to answer her own question, her eyes flew open. The vision disappeared in a cloud of steam. Hands on both shoulders were pushing her down into the water. In the mirror, she saw Pip leaning over her.

First shock, and then terror lent Nina the strength to try and grab one of the girl’s wrists with both hands, but they were wet and she couldn’t get a firm grip. Legs thrashing about in sheer desperation, she tried to scream. But whenever she opened her mouth, her head was plunged underwater again, forcing her to hold her breath.

Nina’s last thoughts before she slipped into unconsciousness were of her mother, father and brother…also how glad she was that, in spite of everything, she had at least made a start at building bridges with her father.

She heard her mother calling her name, and then Colin’s voice, angry and incoherent. Meanwhile, her father’s face had become fixed to a huge wheel. His face, no body attached. She reached up to take it down, but couldn’t quite reach. She tried and tried again, but still could not reach it. Finally, she gave up trying, almost content to let herself sink into an immense, immeasurable sadness. From a great distance, she thought she heard a dog barking. The little girl in the green dress heard it too. She held on to the sound for dear life, much as the proverbial drowning man might cling to a straw.

…………………………………

Downstairs, in the kitchen, old Ben added an uncharacteristic spell of sustained barking to Stanley’s furious yapping.

“That’s odd,” commented Sadie. “Ben never barks. Well, not like that he doesn’t, especially indoors.”

“It must be Stanley’s bad influence.” Carol sighed. “I’ll go and tell him to shut up.”

“He’s probably angling for attention and a cuddle.” Sadie laughed.

“Probably,” Carol agreed and went to the door. No sooner had she opened it than Stanley ran past her to the door that led into the hallway where the little dog continued barking while frantically leaping up and scratching the paintwork at the same time. Ben plodded across the carpet as if to join in the fracas although the ageing Irish setter had stopped barking and was now making low, growling noises. “Stop it Stanley!” cried Carol, “Whatever’s got into you?”

“Stop him,” Sadie cried, “or he’ll wake Pip.”

“Pip’s here?” Carol heard alarm bells ringing in her head.

“Yes, she turned up a couple of hours ago. The poor girl was so exhausted I sent her straight to bed. Sorry, I thought you knew,” she added, and then, “Something’s wrong,” she declared and rose unsteadily to her feet, “Ben has never done anything like this before.”

“Don’t blame Ben. It’s this rascal’s fault,” said Carol, trying to make light of the situation. She attempted to scoop the little dog into her arms. Stanley, though, was for once having none of it. The little dog not only neatly avoided the outstretched arms, but also continued barking and kept jumping up at the door as if trying to reach the handle.

“Let them out,” said Sadie, a tummy spasm forcing her to sit down again. “Stanley is probably missing Fred. He’ll be in his element in the bar with everyone fussing over him. Go on, Carol, open the door. Stanley will be fine. Ben will see to it that he doesn’t wreck the place.”

Weary of the barking, and starting to feel a shade fraught, Carol opened the door. Instead of dashing into the bar, however, Stanley ran in the opposite direction and scampered, barking furiously, up the stairs. Carol chased after him. “Stanley, come here!” she shouted angrily. Then she saw the half open bathroom door and Pip leaning over the bath. For her part, the girl made no sign that she had heard the commotion.

“Oh, my God…!” Carol sprinted forward, but Stanley was already there. The little white dog leapt on to Pip’s back, digging its claws into her shoulders and teeth into the back of her neck.

Pip screamed, let go of Nina and fought off the animal. Stanley dropped to the floor with a yelp and then continued yapping, adroitly dodging Pip’s foot as she kicked out.

Carol burst into the bathroom, taking in the situation at a glance. Ignoring Pip, she dragged Nina to the surface when, almost at once, she began spluttering and spewing out water.

“You murdering bitch!” Carol shouted at Pip. But Pip appeared neither to see nor hear her. Stanley had stopped barking. Nina had ceased to splutter and was now struggling to catch her breath. Clouds of steam were like scented bubbles of silence sucking all three women and dog into a weird vacuum.

“What the devil...?” Winter growled as he appeared at the bathroom door, Liam Brady at his elbow and a distraught looking Sadie close behind.

“I should have expected something like this,” Winter cried and would remonstrate further with himself later. Meanwhile, everyone was taken by surprise when Pip made a sudden, mad dash for the stairs. Only Sadie had the presence of mind to block the girl’s path. “Get out of my way, you fat cow!” Pip yelled at her. But Sadie stood her ground. Pip lashed out with her fists.

Sadie screamed, and tumbled down the stairs.

To be concluded on Friday

Predisposed To Murder - Chapter Thirty-Five

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“Max! Where have you been?  I’ve been so worried about you! You could at least have phoned!”  But Max pushed past his mother, ran upstairs to his own room and began throwing some clothes into a suitcase. His mother followed, more than a little breathless already. “What are you doing? Where are you going? Are you in some kind of trouble? I knew it. I just knew it!” She declared in a whining tone that made Max cringe. He rounded on his mother, a savage look in his eyes that caused Annie Cutler to recoil, stumble, and almost lose her footing altogether.

“Yes, I’m in trouble and I haven’t time to explain,” hesitating a fraction before adding in a more conciliatory tone, “I need some money.”

“Surprise, surprise!” exclaimed his mother scathingly. “How much do you want this time?”

“Ten grand will do for now.”

“What, ten thousand pounds!” Annie was genuinely shocked, “You expect me to hand over ten thousand pounds just like that?”

“For heaven’s sake, Ma, you’re loaded. Ten grand is chicken feed to you.”

“You’re father earned his money. It wouldn’t do you any harm to try earning your own living for a change.”

“Change the record, Ma, and just write me a cheque. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.”

“I see. You have to be desperate to ask your own mother for help, is that it? What’s happened to us Max? We used to be close. Now I hardly see you. When I do, you’re always in a foul mood and usually more interested in my cheque book than you are your poor mother.”

“And whose fault is that?” Max flung the question back at her. “I’m your son, Ma, not a possession to be exhibited to all and sundry when it suits you and kept under lock and key when it doesn’t.”

“I have never kept you under lock and key!” the dumpy woman protested.

“Maybe not,” he conceded, “but it certainly feels like it!” he yelled back at her, now piling some shirts into a suitcase that lay wide open on the bed. “When did you ever let me bring a friend home, eh? Never, that’s when. And shall I tell why, as if you didn’t know? Because you can’t bear to share me with anyone, that’s why.  You want me all to yourself. Well, I don’t want to be your substitute toy boy, Mother, I never did. Look at you,” pausing to give the woman in the doorway a long, critical look. “You were passably attractive once. Now you’re fat and ugly and no one would look at you twice. You couldn’t get a man if you tried so you thought you’d work all that unspent energy off on me. You’re sick, Ma, and you make me sick too!”

“But rich,” she said so quietly that he barely heard. “Alright, Max, I’ll write you a cheque this one last time. Once you leave this house I never want to see you again. No matter how times you come begging cap in hand, you’ll be wasting your time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” muttered Max ungraciously. Hadn’t he heard this before countless times?

“I’ll go and write that cheque now.” Annie Cutler was almost at the bottom of the stairs when the doorbell rang and she saw a shadow against the glass she did not recognize.

“Don’t answer it!” Max yelled from the upstairs landing, but Annie was already opening the front door.

“Mrs Cutler?” Annie nodded, “My name is Colin Fox. I’m Nina’s brother and a friend of Max’s. Is he here?” Annie was about to let him in when a familiar figure emerged from a car parked right outside the house. She stiffened instantly. “You…” she hissed.

“Hello Annie,” said Nina.

Colin Fox flung his sister an aggrieved look. He had told her in no uncertain terms to stay put and not interfere in affairs that were none of her damn business. He might have guessed she would ignore him. Forbidding Nina anything had always been tantamount to waving a red rag under a bull’s nose.

“Was that Max’s voice I heard?  Max!” She pushed past Annie and called up the stairs, “It’s me, Nina. Colin’s with me too. Come down and tell us what the devil is going on. Why are you being such a prick?”

“Get out of my house,” Annie Cutler hissed at the woman she blamed entirely for her son’s latest defection.

“Either come down or I’m coming up!” Nina ignored her and called out again.

“You’re upsetting your mother Max,” it was Fox’s turn to shout. Sensing an ally, Annie gave him a wide smile and was rewarded with a conspiratorial wink. “You don’t want your poor mother to become even more upset, do you?” he yelled again.

While Annie Cutler positively beamed at Fox, Nina tough she detected a thinly veiled threat in her brother’s choice of words. Don’t be such a drama queen, Nina, she remonstrated with herself, but remained uneasy all the same. Colin had still not explained to her satisfaction why he was carrying a gun.

Max appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Max, darling, are you alright?” Nina found herself asking with genuine concern.

Before Max could reply, Colin Fox has pushed past Annie Cutler and was charging up the stairs. Caught off guard, Max hesitated as if trying to decide what to do next before dashing back to his room and slamming the door.

Fox was not only there before Max could turn the key on the inside but also wasted no time putting his shoulder to the door and pushing against it.

Below, Nina tried to follow her brother but Annie Cutler gripped her arm with a podgy hand and would not let go. “Max is in trouble. You have to tell me all you know. Don’t I deserve to know?  I’m his mother for heaven’s sake. I need to know. I deserve better than this,” she wailed and became hysterical.

Reluctantly, Nina led the woman whom she detested into the lounge, deposited her unceremoniously on a sofa and sat beside her. “I don’t know any more than you,” she had to admit, “but carrying on like this is helping no one so pull yourself together, woman, and let go of my bloody arm!”

But the fat, ringed fingers retained a surprisingly firm grip. “It’s your fault,” Annie Cutler shrieked at Nina, “My Max was a different person before he met you. He was kind, considerate. Now he’s beastly to me and always asking for money so he can keep up with you, you bitch, you…whore!” Nina slapped the little woman’s face with her free hand. The gargoyle face turned purple with rage, bulbous eyes all but popping out of their sockets. “Oh!” wailed Annie Cutler and promptly burst into floods of tears. Forgetting that Nina was public enemy number one, she collapsed, sobbing, into the younger woman’s arms.

Upstairs, Colin Fox heaved his shoulder against the door one more time and it gave way sufficiently for him to burst into the room.

The two men glared at each other. Fox kicked the door shut behind him and pulled the gun from his pocket. Max Cutler’s handsome face turned very pale. “There’s no need for that,” he said in a low, choked voice and swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes from the weapon, its metallic glitter emphasising the threat as if any emphasis were needed.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Fox snarled. “Now, where are the letters?” Cutler nodded towards a small red box on the bed. “I’ll never understand what Wiseman saw in you,” Fox sneered as he edged towards the bed, gesticulating with the gun for Max to keep his distance. “It takes all sorts to make a world, I suppose, even one with queers in it.”

“If you say so,” said Max, calmer now and able to look Fox in the eye. He had only met Nina’s brother once before and had disliked him intensely at first sight, not least because he made no secret of his contempt for his boss’s sexual preferences. If Wiseman was aware of this, he chose to ignore it. Colin Fox, he had repeatedly assured Max, was a man whom it was a good move to have on your side and a very bad one to alienate. Max, on holiday in Miami at the time, had been content to let sleeping dogs lie. Later, he would find hard to believe Nina could have such a nasty piece of work for a brother.

At first glance, Max had to admit that Colin Fox was pleasantly, almost boyishly good looking, with an untidy mop of hair and an engaging smile. It was the eyes that gave him away. They were a steely blue-grey. You felt they were looking right through you and not liking what they saw one bit. Max shivered involuntarily. Fox was not a man who bluffed or carried a gun he had no intention of using.

When he, Max, had discovered the full, global extent of Klaus Wiseman’s drugs racket, he had caught the next plane back to London. Among the messages on the answering machine at his mother’s house was one from Fox. It just said, “Fox here. Enjoy being home, Max, while you can.”  The deceptively mild voice had made Max’s flesh creep just as it did now.

All this had taken place long before he’d had a fling going with Nina. By the time he’d made the connection between the two Foxes, it was too late. He had already underestimated ‘Gypsy’ and Steve Williams had been assigned to ‘sort’ the pair of them. Besides…and now a thought hit Max with some surprise as he licked his lips with growing apprehension. He had fallen in love with Nina by that time.

It had never entered his Max Cutler’s head that he could love a woman with anything like the same intensity, never mind passion, as a man. Intensity and passion were all very well and made for good sex, end of story. Love had never played any part in his relations with men… Or women like Pip Sparrow, he reflected ruefully. Nina, on the other hand, was different to anyone he had ever known, man or woman. At first the main attraction had been her looks and her money, nor necessarily in that order. Somewhere along the line, though, the goal posts were moved. We were good together Nina and me.  Could they be again, he wondered, and doubted it.  Cutler sighed. Trust him to find love for once in his life…after he had already blown it.

Even while such thoughts were running riot in his head, culminating in the unlikely discovery that he was in love with Nina Fox, Cutler had continued to watch her brother with all the attentiveness of a cornered animal facing extermination.

As Colin Fox reached for the red box, his eyes darted towards it and were momentarily distracted from Cutler. Max saw his chance and seized it, diving forwards to grapple with Fox at the very moment the latter’s fingers closed on the box and before his line of vision had time to revert. 

The two men fought.

Downstairs, Nina and Annie heard the blast of a gunshot. The latter screamed and let go of Nina’s arm. Nina ran out of the room and dashed upstairs.

Hearing movement behind one of several doors, Nina did not hesitate but turned the handle and flung it wide open. “Oh, my God!” she cried. Max was lying at a curious angle across the eyes closed, blood pouring from a chest wound. “Colin, what have you done? What have you done?” she repeated, her voice risen an octave or two as she quickly crossed to where Max lay and felt for a pulse. Unable to find one for a second time, she turned and stared wide-eyed at her brother.

Fox, still gripping the smoking gun had to struggle to find his voice. He had liked carrying a gun, not least because it made him feel important, better and bigger than the Colin Fox most people saw, good looking enough but insignificant, nothing more or less than another face in a crowd. He had never shot anyone before. Nothing could have prepared him for the way he felt. Where he had expected to experience an exhilarating sense of power and satisfaction at having demonstrated it, all that gripped him, churning up his stomach, was an immediate need to vomit.

Watching Colin throw up all over the floor, Nina’s feelings were very mixed. On the one hand, she wanted go to him, hug him protectively and reassure him that everything would be all right while, on the other, an intense loathing welled up inside her. She hated her brother even more than she had once hated their father. Besides, she reflected grimly, everything was far from all right. “Give me your mobile,” she held out a trembling hand.

Colin Fox started to reach inside a pocket, and then changed his mind, seemed to pull himself together and stared disbelievingly at his sister. “You’d call the police?”

“Never mind the police,” she retorted, “We need to call an ambulance.”

“He’s dead,” said Colin Fox in a flat, toneless voice.

“It looks like it,” Nina agreed, “but I’ve made that mistake once and I’ll be damned if I’ll make the same mistake again. Now, give me the bloody phone.”

But Fox simply stood stock still, staring at the body sprawled on the bed and oozing blood over a pale grey duvet cover. There was blood, too, on his own shirt, trousers, hands, even smudges on his forehead and cheeks where he’d tried to wipe away the sweat that continued to soak his face, making the skin blotchy as if he had eczema.

“Why, Colin? What’s going on? What haven’t you told me?” Nina yelled, “Why shoot Max, for God’s sake?” She spotted a red box on the floor. Absently, she bent to pick it up.

“Don’t touch that!” Colin Fox shrieked at her like madman. Before she could say another word, he had bent down and picked it up, clasping it to his chest with his free hand as if for dear life.

“What’s in the box?” Nina demanded to know, “Is that what you’re doing here? Is Max blackmailing you?” she voiced the first suspicion that came to mind.

“It’s complicated,” muttered Colin Fox weakly.

Nina shrugged, calmer now. “If you don’t want to tell me, fair enough, I dare say I’ll find out sooner or later. Right now, though, I don’t have time to listen anyway.” She got up from the bed, blood on her hands and dress, to confront her brother with all the confidence of an accomplished actress making the best of a poor script. “I’m going downstairs now to phone for an ambulance. For all we know, Annie may already have done so or called the police. Mind you, the poor cow is in such a state that I doubt it,” she added with a humourless laugh. “I’ll give you ten minutes, Colin, not one second more. That will give you time to freshen up a little, borrow some of Max’s clothes and get the hell out of here before I call the police.”

“You’d shop your own brother?”

“Oh, grow up, Colin!” she snapped before starting to panic and had to fight to catch her breath. All at once, she felt composed and incredibly calm. “You’ve just shot a man for heaven’s sake,” she flung at her brother, “I suggest you do something about it and fast.” She turned her back on him and left the room with neither thought nor fear for her own safety.

Annie Cutler was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, her short, fat legs visibly trembling. “I heard a gunshot,” she whimpered.

“Go and sit down,” Nina told her,” I’ll be right with you as soon as I’ve called for an ambulance.”

A telephone was sitting complacently on a table in the hall.  Nina grabbed the receiver from its cradle and would have dialled 999 but Annie pulled at the sleeve of her dress with such force that she stumbled and the plug came loose from its wall socket. “What are you playing at?” Nina yelled, “We need a bloody ambulance!”

“It’s Max, isn’t it?” the woman cried, near hysterical, “He’s dead isn’t he? That bastard has killed my son.”

“No one’s dead,” Nina told the woman tersely, “but they soon will be if you don’t shut up and let go of me so I can call for an ambulance.” Annie Cutler tried to say something, but no words came. Eyes bulging, her mouth kept opening and shutting.  Like a bloody great fish, Nina thought as the other woman collapsed in a heap at her feet. “Oh, shit!” she muttered, resisting an impulse to burst into tears.

The front doorbell rang.

“Oh, shit!” Nina swore again. Some sixth sense came to her rescue and she stepped over the unconscious Annie to open the front door. “Carol!” She began to weep with sheer relief and fell into Carol Brady’s arms.

“Where are they?” A familiar voice came from behind her. Nina swung round, startled, to find Fred Winter standing there looking grim-faced. She managed to pull herself together long enough to blurt, “Upstairs. Be careful, Colin has a gun. He shot Max. I think he may have killed him. But my brother is no killer, Mr Winter. Please believe me, he isn’t…”

Winter, who had taken the extra precaution of entering the house by a rear window, ran upstairs.

“Colin isn’t a killer,” Nina repeated to a stunned Carol. On the floor, Annie Cutler moaned and attempted, unsuccessfully, to get to her feet.

“Help her while I call for an ambulance,” Carol told Nina sharply.

The cutting edge of Carol’s voice had a sobering effect on Nina who duly proceeded to help poor Annie to her feet, and then supporting the obese woman as best she could, led her to the same armchair she had vacated less than ten minutes previously and sat her down.

 “Brandy,” Annie croaked, “I need a brandy. In the cabinet over there,” pointing.

Nina fetched a large brandy but not before pouring one for herself. She drained the glass and then poured another. A glass in each hand, she approached the pathetic heap perched on the edge of the armchair. She handed one to Annie before band then, still sipping at the other herself, rejoining Carol in the hallway.

Carol was peering anxiously up the stairs, but made no move to ascend.

Above, Winter took in the situation at a glance. He thought he detected a flicker of life in the inert Cutler who nevertheless remained unconscious, and was bleeding profusely. “Give me the gun lad,” he told Fox gruffly. “There’s no point in making a bad situation worse, that’s what I always say. If Cutler pulls through, at least you won’t be facing a murder charge.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Fox’s whole body was shaking, but his voice retained a semblance of calm as he coolly pointed the gun at the detective.

Winter shrugged. “Do you really want to take that chance?”  He nodded towards the body on the bed. “If he doesn’t get help soon, it’s academic and you’ll be going down for a damn long stretch anyway.  So why not give me the gun and make things as easy on yourself as you can? ”

“I couldn’t handle prison,” Fox admitted between clenched teeth. Winter shrugged again, but said nothing. “I couldn’t and I won’t!” Fox said quietly. “So move aside and let me pass.”

“Or what…?” Winter growled, “You’ll shoot me? I don’t think so. Look at you, man, you’re shaking like a leaf. Your sister’s right. You’re no killer.”

“Nina said that?” he sounded mildly surprised, pleased even, and dropped his guard for an instant. Winter saw an opportunity and leapt forward.

Both men fell heavily to the floor.

Fox was first to recover his wind and reached for the gun that had fallen from his hand and lay within a fingertip’s touch on the carpet. Winter, though, astonished the younger man with his agility. Soon, they were both wrestling for control of the weapon.

Downstairs, a second gunshot galvanized Carol into action. Brushing aside a whole army of reservations, every last grain of native commonsense along with them, she dashed upstairs. Nor, in all honesty, would she be able to claim later that she had acted intuitively. Stumbling not once but twice on the upstairs landing, she reached the bedroom in a blind panic. Colin Fox pushed her roughly against the door as he ran past and scuttled down the stairs. “Freddy!” Carol thought she heard herself scream although, in reality, could barely manage a croaking sound.

Winter lay perfectly still on the floor, his eyes closed, jacket and shirt covered in blood.

To be continued on Wednesday

Predisposed To Murder - Chapter Thirty-Four

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

“What the devil are they playing at?” Winter growled.

“Why don’t you just honk your horn for them to wait and we can go and ask them,” was Carol Brady’s tart response. “Sometimes, Freddy, I wonder about you…” she added darkly. She wished now that she hadn’t let him persuade her to leave her own car parked in a side street near the harbour. At least, then, she’d have some sense of being in control. As it was, she was now dependant on dear Freddy’s whims or ‘hunches’ as he preferred to call them. Whatever, she never quite trusted them and this one, in particular, struck her as being more than a little wide of the mark.

Winter shook his head. “No, there’s something wrong. Why are the two women sitting in the car on their own? And, look, see how Cutler is walking just ahead of Colin Fox, almost as if Fox…”

“Has a gun?” Carol was plainly startled. She hadn’t anticipated any real danger. “Oh, really Freddy, as if…Why would Colin Fox have a gun, for heaven’s sake, let alone point it at anyone…” Yet, the more closely she watched the scene unfolding some yards ahead, the less far-fetched the detective’s theory struck her. “Whatever Max Cutler is or has been up to, it can’t be so bad as to warrant having a gun pointed at him, surely? Besides, Nina and Pip would realize what was happening. They wouldn’t just sit there and let Max be forced into a car at gunpoint, surely? No, Freddy, the whole idea is preposterous. So Colin Fox has one hand in his coat pocket, so what? It doesn’t mean he has a gun.”

“It doesn’t mean he hasn’t either,” said Winter with the same flawed logic that always infuriated Carol, but to which she never had a ready answer. “As for the women...Well, what would you have them do?  If I’m right, they’ll want to keep an eye on things and save their precious Max if they can. If I’m wrong, why should they do anything but enjoy a cosy chat while they wait?  It’s my guess,” he added, “that whatever deep water our friend Max Cutler has got himself into, Colin Fox hasn’t exactly been keeping his feet dry either.” Even as he spoke, he recalled that Fox was listed in Cutler’s mobile phone directory.

They watched as the two men climbed into the car, Max in the driving seat, and quickly drove off. Winter promptly turned the ignition in the blue Volvo and set off in pursuit while taking care to keep a discreet distance. 

“They seem to be heading for Canterbury,” Carol murmured, unable to prevent a note of alarm creeping in as she spoke. “Oh, I do hope I’m wrong!” she wailed.

“The B&B, I agree.” It was spoken as a barely coherent grunt. The same thought had entered Winter’s head and refused to budge. “Maybe our Max left something behind that Colin Fox needs to make sure he collects…”

“Whatever Cutler is mixed up in, why should Colin be involved except as Nina’s brother?” Carol insisted. Winter told her about the mobile. “What, you have Cutler’s phone? Oh, really Freddy, you might have said. Not that it proves a thing of course. Why shouldn’t he have Colin’s Fox’s number?”

“True,” Winter conceded, “but why on earth should he? I never got the impression they were pals, did you?  Besides, if you’re shacking up with a bloke’s sister, you’re hardly likely to be bending his ear much, wouldn’t you say?  In my experience, put brothers and their sister’s boyfriends together and you might as well light a match to a leaking oil can.”

“Except Nina’s no oil can,” retorted Carol.

“She’s rich, famous, beautiful…well, more rich and famous then most of us and definitely beautiful…what’s that if it isn’t an oil can begging for a match?”

Carol seethed in silence, not least because she could think of no suitable response to Freddy’s unlikely metaphor.

………………………………

“Max!” Cessy Pearce could not conceal her delight upon opening the front door of the B&B and finding him waiting on the doorstep. She glanced quickly at his companions. “Oh, it’s you!” she exclaimed, recognizing Pip instantly. To Colin Fox she paid little attention, her gaze coming to rest on Nina. “Oh, it’s you!” She gave a little squeal of pleasure. “My sister and I are great fans of yours,” she told Nina, “We never miss an episode of April Showers.”

“I must look a mess.” Nina forced a laugh.

“Not at all,” Cessy assured her. “If anything, you look even prettier without all that make-up.” Nina immediately warmed to the woman and gave her a broad smile that was, for once, not in the least contrived. “Do come in all of you. Who’d have thought it? Nina Fox in our sitting room!” She showed them into the room where Margaret sat in her wheelchair, watching the door expectantly.

“Cessy...” Max Cutler sounded anxious, “...have you let my room yet? It’s just that I think I may have left something there.”

“Let your room?” Cessy seemed momentarily nonplussed.

It was Margaret who answered. “No, we haven’t let your room,” she said smiling although her expression struck Nina as a bit odd.

“Would you mind if I go and take a look?”

“By all means, do.  The door is not locked. ”

“Oh, but Mrs Farmer will have cleaned and stripped the bed,” declared Cessy. “She’s very conscientious and thorough. I’m sure if she’d found anything you left behind she’d have given it to Margaret or myself for safekeeping.”

“All the same…” Max wore what struck Nina, yet again, as the strangest expression.

“Max must take a look for himself sister,” said Margaret Pearce in a tone that brooked no argument.

“Thanks. I’ll only be a jiffy.” Max was out of the door before anyone could say another word.

“I’ll come with you,” said Colin Fox somewhat belatedly and made as if to follow, but Margaret had eased forward slightly so that now her wheelchair was blocking the door.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Margaret was quick to apologize. “I’m afraid these things have a mind of their own sometimes.” She laughed, and the sound struck Nina as somewhat incongruous from such a dour looking woman. Everyone politely tittered except Cessy who continued to look a shade bewildered. Margaret shifted to one side. “There you are…” she told Fox, who paused in the doorway.

“What room?” he snapped at Margaret.

“Number eleven,” she replied evenly, not in the least bit ruffled by his tone.

“Oh, but…” Cessy started to say, but changed her mind and turned to the others, smiling if still visibly flummoxed. “Do sit down everyone. I’ll go and make some tea.”

“That would be wonderful,” said Nina, thinking how delightfully dippy the able-bodied sister was and selecting one of four hard chairs at a small mahogany table to avoid sitting next to Pip. The latter, for her part, had slipped off her shoes and was sprawling comfortably on the sofa.

“Do take my armchair,” Cessy told her, “It’s so much more comfortable.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Nina assured her.

“Oh, well, in that case…I’ll go and put the kettle on shall I? I think we have some of your chocolate cake left too…” she added, giving her sister another peculiar look.

“No chocolate cake for me,” Nina laughed, “I’m on a diet.”

“Nonsense,” said Margaret, “You don’t want to be all skin and bone, do you? That’s the trouble with the younger generation today, obsessed with good looks and not a clue how to keep them. Eat sensibly and the rest will take care of itself,” she told Nina, “A slice of chocolate cake won’t upset the applecart unless the applecart is already top heavy,” she declared. “It’s a poor thing if we can’t treat ourselves from time to time,” she added with a mischievous twinkle in each eye.

“You’ve convinced me.” Nina laughed, warming to the other woman just as she had warmed to the sister.

“That goes for me too,” said Pip.

“Splendid!” Cessy Pearce disappeared into the kitchen.

“Excuse me just a moment,” said Margaret and followed her sister. “Can you manage on your own, dear?” she asked. “There are six of us, after all.”

“Of course I can manage,” Cessy told her. Suddenly, she lowered her voice dramatically and whispered, “Why do you think Max asked if we’d let his room? He knows we never let the spare room”

“You guess is as good as mine,” Margaret whispered back, “but I suspect he was trying to tell us that all is not as it looks. I wouldn’t trust that Fox man an inch. Something is wrong, sister, but all we can do for now is play it by ear. Now, if you’re sure you can manage, I’ll get back to our guests.”

“I dare say you’re right,” Cessy agreed and was much relieved to have Margaret confirm her own vague suspicions, “but isn’t it exciting,” she added with a little squeal. “Imagine, you and I having tea with Nina Fox! Who’d ever have thought it?”

Margaret merely nodded and returned to the sitting room.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Max had wasted no time locking the door to room number eleven. Both sisters being a little deaf, their voices were inclined to carry so he’d heard Margaret tell Fox the room number. In actual fact, it was not his room at all but one conveniently next to Margaret’s bedroom at the rear of the house. Silently blessing his godmother for her astuteness, he had already flung open the window and was clambering on to the windowsill when Fox tried the door. “Open up, Max!” Fox demanded.

“Just give me a mo,” Max called out with feigned cheerfulness before edging his way along a narrow ledge to the adjacent room.

It took only moments to recover the box. Margaret had shown him a space beneath a loose floorboard by the bed, partially concealed by a blue silk eiderdown hanging down. “No one will look here,” she had told him with a wicked smile. “An old lady’s bedroom is sacrosanct.”

“Not to some people,” he had wanted to say but refrained rather than risk worrying his godmother needlessly.  In addition, he was inclined to think that, on the whole, she probably had a point. Besides, where else could he hide the damn thing? He doubted, too, whether the police would find it there. After all, Steve Williams hadn’t. 

Better to think positive and stay optimistic. Now, eagerly retrieving the red box, Max was he was glad he had done just that.

Grabbing a shoulder bag that lay on a padded seat in front of the dressing table, Max wasted no time emptying its contents on to the bed and cramming the box into it before sliding the leather strap over his head. Retrieving some car keys from amongst the clutter on the bed, he returned to the window, looked out and judged he could reach a drainpipe a couple of feet  or so away. 

Below, parked nearby, Winter and Carol were astonished to observe Max Cutler emerge from an upstairs window, tread precariously along a windowsill and then stretch, leap, and grab hold of a drainpipe. Both legs thrashing in the air before gaining a firmer hold, he proceeded to shin down it with monkey-like agility and speed. Once on the ground, he dashed across the forecourt to a somewhat forlorn looking mini that looked as though it could use a spray job, fumbled with some keys, tumbled into the driving seat and had driven before Winter or Carol had quite caught their breaths.

“Well,” demanded Carol, “aren’t we going to follow him?”

“Let’s see what happens here first.”

“And let Max get away after all it’s taken us to track him down? Oh, really Freddy, if you aren’t just the limit!”

“Keep your hair on, woman,” said Winter without taking his eyes of the B&B’s forecourt. “Max has to be feeling pretty panicky to do what he’s just done, right? You wouldn’t catch me shinning down any drainpipe from that height, I can tell you.”

“So?”

“So where else does anyone go when they’re desperate?”

“Suppose you tell me,” said Carol with mounting exasperation.

“Back home to mum, of course. What I want to know is whether our friend Colin Fox has the same idea.”

At that instant, Fox came running out of the house, Nina in hot pursuit.

……………………………….

It hadn’t taken Colin Fox long to realize something was up. Reluctant to break the door down and draw attention to the fact, he returned downstairs. “Do you have a spare key to room eleven?”

“Well, yes, but…” stammered Cessy.

“May I have it?”

“Oh, but…”

“Give it to him, sister. The keys are in my room, as you know.”

“But your tea will get cold,” mumbled Cessy.

“Never mind the damn tea. Let’s find that key…now… shall we?” already accompanying a bemused Cessy upstairs.

“I’m sorry,” Nina told Margaret.

The older woman was remarkably reassuring, “Don’t apologize, my dear. If you ask me, men get away with far too much because we women are forever apologizing for them.” Even so, Nina scrambled to her feet and ran out of the room after her brother and Cessy.

Margaret turned to Pip. “Will you have some more chocolate cake, my dear?” Pip nodded and eagerly helped herself. Whatever all the fuss was about, she wasn’t particularly interested. She had only fleetingly considered going after Nin before deciding that Nina could take care of herself. As for that brother of hers, she didn’t care for him much at all. Max, now, he was something else. But while she couldn’t deny he was good in bed, she had only slept with him to get at Nina, after all. No way could Max compete with another delicious slice of chocolate cake.

Colin Fox burst into room 11 and ran to the open window in time to see Cutler running across the forecourt below. “Damn!” he swore and ran out of the room, taking the stairs two at a time. “Stay there!” he shouted at Nina, who ignored him. He had already turned the Peugeot’s ignition when she slid into the passenger seat beside him and slammed the door. “I told you to stay put!” he yelled, glaring at his sister. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, sis,” he added warningly.

“I want to catch up with Max every bit as much as you do,” retorted Nina and continued fastening her safety belt.

“Suit yourself, you always do” growled Fox and drove off after Cutler who was already out of sight.

“He could be anywhere,” Nina was quick to point out.

“Where he is hardly matters,” Fox muttered, “It’s where he’s going that interests me.”

“Oh? Psychic now, are you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Fox put it to her impatiently, “The man’s at his wit’s end. Where else would he run but back to mummy?”

Nina bit her lip and said nothing. It was true, and she did want to catch up with Max if only to ask him what the devil he thought he was playing at. Had he sent those silly letters, she wondered for the umpteenth time? Clearly, though, her brother had his own agenda. She had never seen him look so angry, determined... and, yes, malicious. Her head swimming again, she half closed her eyes, wryly reflecting on Cessy Pearce’s comment about her appearance. A glance in the rear view mirror only confirmed that she looked a frightful mess. It had been so sweet of the old dear to say otherwise. Making a mental note to return to the B&B and give the sisters her autograph just as soon as she could find the time, she let a weight on her eyelids got the better of her surrendered to a tidal wave of nervous exhaustion.

Seeing that his sister had dozed off, Colin Fox pursed his lips in annoyance and wondered how on earth he was going to explain away his relationship with Cutler, especially if events came to a head, as was looking increasingly likely, and Max had to be eliminated. True, she hadn’t pressed him again about the gun, but it was only a matter of time. “Shit!” he swore aloud, but softly so as not disturb Nina. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be at all. He blamed that fool, Steve Williams. It shouldn’t have proven too hard to make ‘Gypsy’ reveal where she kept the letters. He’d had no brief to kill her. She was, after all, a useful link in Wiseman’s chain whereas Cutler…. He was easily expendable, to say the least.

Fox grimaced. There had to be more than a few letters at stake here, surely, he reasoned? Wiseman had more sense than to jeopardise a profitable operation for the sake of family pride, surely? Who gives a toss if a guy swings both ways, for heaven’s sake?  Swerving to avoid a dog that ran across the road just ahead, he gritted his teeth and swore again. “Sod Wiseman and his weakness for pretty men like Max Cutler! Sod Cutler too,” he hissed and swung the wheel to make a violent right turn that jolted Nina wide-awake.

Nina winced involuntarily. Her brother’s expression was nothing short of demoniacal. Again she was reminded of their father as she recalled, vividly, seeing much the same look on Frank Fox’s face years ago when, time and time again, he would raise his fist to their mother. How can I have forgotten and let that brute back into my life? Worse, could it be that Colin had inherited their father’s temper?  And what was the gun all about?  What the hell is going on? Whatever, Max had better watch out.  A shiver ran down her spine and she began to feel afraid, very afraid, for both men.

In spite of everything, it didn’t occur to Nina that she should also be afraid, very afraid, for herself.

To be continued on Monday