The Scold's Bridle (40 page)

Sarah topped up their wine glasses and viewed the empty bottle with a wry look. "Thank God my poison is legal," she murmured. "I know damn well I need an external stimulant to make the miseries bearable. Did you take her heroin off her, Cooper? She'll be in a desperate state if you did."

"No," he admitted, "but you can keep that information to yourselves."

"You're a very kind man," she told him.

"I'm a realist," he corrected her. "If Joanna had murdered her mother then I was in a stronger position keeping what I knew up my sleeve than showing my hand before I had to. She would have been very vulnerable to police questioning if we could have charged her with possession and murder both at the same time."

"You're such a bad liar," said Sarah fondly. "You're not going to charge her at all. Will you even tell her you know?"

But Cooper sidestepped that question. "We were talking about how Duncan murdered Mathilda," he said. "So where were we?"

"With Mathilda being immensely suspicious when he came through the back door uninvited and offered to top up her whisky," said Sarah dryly.

"Oh, yes, well he wouldn't have gone that way. He'd have rung the front door bell. It was quite safe. Violet wasn't going to hear anything, not if she was snoring her head off in front of the television, and I'm sure he had a very convincing reason for knocking on Mathilda's door at seven o'clock on a Saturday evening. He did know a great deal about her life, after all, any bit of which he could tap into as an excuse. She would have to have been deeply paranoid to lock her door against a neighbour she saw almost every day." Absentmindedly, he tapped more ash into his palm then turned it upside down to scatter it on the floor. "Once he'd given her the whisky, and watched her drink it, he made his excuses and left. He's a cautious man and he didn't know how effective the sedative would be, plus he needed to be sure Violet really was dead to the world and hadn't heard the bell ringing. Presumably if he'd found her semi-conscious, he'd have abandoned the project as being too dangerous and, by the same token, he wanted Mathilda well and truly under before he put the scold's bridle over her head.

"From then on, it would all have been very straightforward. He checked on Violet, donned a pair of gloves, collected the appropriate weeds from the garden-he wouldn't have done that during daylight hours in case someone saw him and put two and two together when they heard about Mathilda's flower arrangement. Then he let himself in again, this time through Mathilda's back door, took the Stanley knife from the kitchen drawer, checked Mathilda was asleep, took the weeds, the knife and the scold's bridle upstairs where he left them on the dressing-table, filled the bath, then went back down to collect Mathilda. All he had to do was scoop her up in his arms, put her on the lift, take her upstairs and undress her.

"The time would have been approximately nine thirty, we think, which has made the pathologist very happy. He always favoured earlier rather than later, particularly as Mathilda wouldn't have died immediately." He cast about in his mind again for the thread of where he had been. "Right, so once he'd undressed her, he placed her in the warm bath, put the scold's bridle on her head, slit her wrists and then arranged the nettles and daisies in the head-band, probably using the sponge to wedge the gap. Then all he had to do was leave the whisky glass beside the empty sleeping-pill bottle, remove the diaries, wipe the key clean for safety's sake and replace it, before going home to Violet and the television. He undoubtedly took the poor woman to task the next morning over her drinking being so bad that she'd passed out the night before, or she might have told us earlier that she'd been asleep instead of going along with Duncan's story that there had been no sound from next door." He massaged his chin. "She's a very pliable woman and, in fairness to her, it obviously never occurred to her that he could have murdered Mathilda. I think she prompted him to write us the anonymous letter because she felt so guilty about letting Mathilda down." He flicked a glance at Jack. "She overheard her crying that time you went round to show her the painting, and she's convinced herself that if she'd only spoken to her then she might have prevented the murder." He saw the look of puzzled enquiry on Sarah's face, and ploughed on relentlessly. "As far as Ruth and Jane are concerned, Duncan didn't want to tell us about them being in Cedar House that day because he couldn't afford to draw attention to how much could be heard through the walls. But Violet gave him the perfect opportunity to involve Ruth when she overheard a row between Joanna and Ruth in their hall. She consulted Duncan about the wisdom of reporting it and, while he flatly refused to let her come in person, to avoid any unpleasantness, as he put it, he didn't object to an anonymous letter, although he insisted on wearing gloves to avoid us tracing it through the fingerprints. Violet thought that was
very
exciting," he concluded with heavy irony.

"It's odd that Mathilda never mentioned hearing them," said Jack. "It's the sort of thing that would have driven her mad."

"Mrs. Orloff says she spoke very clearly and decisively, so perhaps she was a little deaf, and if she never heard them, it wouldn't occur to her that they could hear her. In any case, as soon as they realized just how much could be overheard, I suspect they tempered their own volume. It's interesting to watch them. He speaks just above a whisper and whenever she gets excited, he frowns at her and she drops her voice."

"I suppose that's how he found out about the key," said Sarah slowly. "When Mathilda told me where it was that day. He must have heard her."

Cooper nodded.

"How did he know about the diaries?"

"According to Violet, she often used to talk to herself when no one was there, so I'm guessing she read them aloud. Otherwise, he stumbled on them by accident when he was looking for something else." He frowned. "
He's
not going to tell us, that's for sure. He's just sitting there at the moment denying everything and challenging us to give one good reason why he would suddenly want to murder a woman he had known for fifty years, when scarcely one cross word had been exchanged between them in all that time. And Violet supports him on that. She says Duncan is far too lazy either to take offence or give it, so Mathilda very quickly got bored with trying to provoke any sort of reaction out of him."

"He's got you by the short and curlies," remarked Jack with reluctant admiration. "You won't get very far with 'trying to delay the passage of the will' as a convincing motive for murder.. Even if the Prosecution's prepared to run with it, I can't see a jury accepting it. Have you really no idea at all why he wanted her dead? Surely Violet must know something."

"She's very distressed at the moment. The DCI hopes a little tender care from a sympathetic policewoman will help jog her memory, but, if you want my opinion, she's being genuinely honest when she says she doesn't know. She's a funny little person, seems to live in a world of her own most of the time, talks nineteen-to-the-dozen but doesn't listen. I suspect most of what went on inside Cedar House was just background noise to her." He glanced from one to the other of them. "All of which is why I'm here. I need to talk to Ruth. She mentioned that her grandmother wrote her a letter shortly before she died, and it occurred to me that there might have been something in there which might help us."

"If it's the same one she told me about, then she tore it up," said Sarah.

"Still, she'll remember what was in it. I really do need to talk to her."

Sarah shook her head firmly. "Not now, Cooper. She's paranoid about the police at the moment, what with last night, and Jack being carted off in handcuffs at lunchtime. Okay, I know none of it's your fault, but you've got to show her a little compassion."

"Don't make me insist," he begged. "I really don't have a choice on this one. We can't hold Duncan indefinitely without some very concrete evidence and, once he walks, he'll be free to tidy up anything we've missed."

She sighed and took one of his large hands in hers. "Look, I'm going to tell you something that, strictly speaking, I shouldn't because it's Ruth's secret and not mine, but I'd trust you with my life, Cooper, so I think I can trust you with Ruth's." She gave the hand, a quick squeeze before releasing it to reach across for Jack's, her eyes creasing with affection. "Why do you think this silly sod has been charging about like a bull in a china shop? He says what he's done is rational and sensible. You and I know it isn't. Rather belatedly, he's discovered that he has some very powerful paternal feelings which, because he's the generous soul he is, he does not intend to limit to his own offspring. He is acting in lieu of Ruth's dead father because he wants her to know that there is someone in this shitty world who loves her."

Jack raised her fingers to his lips. "Two people," he corrected her.

She held his gaze for a moment. "Two people," she agreed. She took her hand away and transferred her attention back to Cooper. "Ruth is so vulnerable at the moment that if she's put under any more pressure, then I can guarantee she'll withdraw from reality in the way that Joanna clearly has done and Mathilda probably did as well. It's almost as if there's a self-destructive gene in the family that triggers the withdrawal." She shook her head. "Whatever it is, Ruth is not going the same way, not if Jack and I can prevent it. She's pregnant, Cooper. I know she doesn't look it, but she's almost at the legal cut-off point, and if she doesn't make up her mind very quickly about having the pregnancy terminated, then she'll have to go through with it. Jack was trying to buy her the peace and quiet she needs to reach a decision, because as yet she hasn't had the chance to do it."

Cooper absorbed all this in grave silence. "Are you helping her reach her decision?" he asked at last.

"I've given her all the information I can, but I don't like to say, do this or do that. It's her mother's role to give advice but Joanna doesn't even know about the rape, let alone about the pregnancy."

"Hmm," grunted Cooper, pursing his lips in deep thought. "Well, I certainly don't intend to add to the poor girl's problems," he said at last. "I'm sure her grandmother wouldn't demand justice for herself before consideration for her granddaughter. If she was that way inclined she'd have reported Ruth for thieving when she was still alive." He stood up and buttoned his coat about him, preparatory to leaving. "But, if you'll forgive the impertinence, Dr. Blakeney, you must take your responsibilities as her adopted mother, temporary or otherwise, a great deal more seriously. It's no good giving her information and leaving it up to her to decide, without making it very clear that you believe it's in her best interests to have an abortion. The chances are she'll scream and yell, say you don't love her and don't care tuppence for her feelings, but parenting is not about patting oneself on the back for being understanding and liberal, it's about guidance, education and training to help the child you love become a man or woman you can respect." He nodded a friendly goodbye and made for the door, only to pause as he saw Ruth in the shadows of the hall.

"I've been listening," she said, her wretched eyes full of tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"There, there," said Cooper, gruff with embarrassment, pulling a large white handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to her. "I'm the one who should apologize. I'd no business to interfere."