Faraday 02 Network Virus (35 page)

But the man was well into his story by now. “So I thought - why not? I went over to her. She was standing by the stern taffrail. I started to kiss her and she seemed more than willing. I put my hand up her sweater and she had nothing on - no bra or anything. She was a little thing, no more than half my size. I said, ‘Let’s go below’, and she said, ‘All right’. She started to move towards the lounge and I was just going to follow her. Then she suddenly turned and put all her weight into shoving me against the taffrail. I was off balance and she’d got it just right. I went over the rail but, as I went, I grabbed her sweater and pulled her over with me. As we went into the water we kicked a trailing rope off the after deck and I let go of her and went to grab the rope before the boat, which was chugging along at a knot or two, was out of my reach. When I looked round for her she’d disappeared.”

“
But when you got back on board, didn’t you turn the boat and try searching for her?” asked Charlotte.

“
Back on board? You’re must be joking. The deck’s nearly four feet above the waterline. There are no handles. There’s a folding transom ladder but that was up while the boat was in the marina and I hadn’t thought to lower it.” He shook his head. “No, all I did at first was hang on like grim death and got myself dragged through the water by the engines and thanked God that I had been lucky enough to have something to hang on to.”

“
So what did you do?”

“
Well, after I’d got over the shock of the cold water I realised I had to get out or I’d die of hypothermia. I knew that was a danger when you fell overboard. So the first thing I did was tie the end of the rope round me under my armpits. Then I made another loop in the rope with a running bowline to put my foot in just below the surface. After that I set about dragging myself on board, and that was no easy task, I can tell you. I reckon it took me a good half-hour to get myself back on deck and I was absolutely knackered when I got there.”

He paused, breathing deeply. “I lay there for a while before I could get the strength to go up on the bridge. As far as I could tell I was about five miles out into the channel and heading a bit west of south. I didn’t know how long the fuel would last. There wasn’t another vessel in sight. So I swung the wheel round to head more or less north-west and locked it in that direction. I left the engines running on tick-over because that way I’d use less fuel and, if I hit anything, there’d not be a serious accident. Then I was so knackered that I went down to the cabin, stripped off my wet clothes, wrapped myself in a quilt, and fell asleep.”

“
You mean you just let the boat head towards the land by itself.” Paulson had to express his outrage. “No lights, no control - you might have caused a serious accident.”

“
I didn’t give a bugger at that moment. All I wanted to do was sleep.”

“
So when did you wake up?”

“
It was daylight and we had run aground. I dressed in my clothes which were almost dry. I pulled the quilt over the bed to make it look tidy. I lit a fag to steady my nerves and I went on deck. The engines seemed to have stopped. I could hear traffic along the top of the beach. There was a bloke about half a mile away looking for stuff that had been washed up by the tide and he was coming my way. I didn’t want him to see me and start asking questions so I jumped off and made my way up to the car park which was nearby. There was a phone box and I rang Marion and told her to pick me up. Then I sat on a seat and waited for her to come. That’s all there was to it.”

He looked at the two police officers. “So you can see I didn’t kill her. It was an accident. In fact it was her own fault. If she hadn’t tried to push me overboard she wouldn’t have gone herself.”

“
Nevertheless it was your intention to kill her,” said Paulson. “I’d say you were looking at a manslaughter charge at the very least.”

“
How do you know my client would have killed the lady,” asked Simpson. “If she had proved amenable he might well have accepted her offer and let her go free.”

Charlotte laughed sardonically. “But he still accepted the payments from Alfred de Billiere,” she said. “He allowed that gentleman to believe he had killed her as they had agreed. How do we know this latest story is the truth? I think a jury would believe it was his intention all along to kill Joanne.”

“
Here, that’s not fair,” argued Bostock. “The fact is I never killed her. She died ‘cause she was a stupid bitch and tried to drown
me
. When I grabbed her sweater I was only acting in self-defence on the spur of the minute like.”

“
But you imprisoned her, took her out to sea where she was at risk of drowning if she fell overboard, told her you were going to kill her and forced her to behave in that way to try to save herself,” said Paulson.

Charlotte raised her hand. “There’s no point in arguing about this. The details as you have told them are now on record. They’ll be sent to the CPS and it will be up to them to decide what to charge you with. They have legal experts who will advise them what charge is most likely to succeed.”

“
And meanwhile,” added Paulson, “the important thing is that we have the evidence which connects Alfred de Billiere with the death of his wife. I’m going to get straight in touch with the Met about going up as soon as possible to arrest the blighter for conspiracy to murder.”

“
That’s not for this interview.” Charlotte terminated the recording. “I’ll go to court after lunch to arrange for you to be detained in Exeter gaol pending your trial for kidnapping and whatever charges the CPS decide to bring against you.”

She rose, picked up her papers and departed with DI Paulson, leaving Bostock to be escorted back to his cell.

- 41 -

Charlotte had rung ahead arranging to call on Marion at half past seven that evening to tell her what she could about her husband’s interview. Tracey’s mum seemed a little on edge when she arrived. She had obviously dressed herself and done her make-up very carefully and Charlotte thought the woman looked absolutely gorgeous and told her so.

“
Really?” asked Marion. “You don’t think I’ve overdone it?”

“
Who’s coming calling for you?” Charlotte was amused by her anxiety. “Don’t worry. No man would be able to refuse you anything you ask, looking like that. Who is it - James?”

She nodded. “He wants to take me out for a meal at a posh restaurant. The only thing is,” she smiled weakly, “I’d like Tracey to come with us as well. What do you think he’ll say?”

“
Well,” said Charlotte, “he’ll obviously be disappointed not to have you on your own but, if he’s the right man for you, he’s got to accept that you have a twelve-year-old daughter and that she’s going to be a fixture for the next five or six years.”

“
Yes. Of course you’re right.” She took a breath. “So what was it you wanted to tell me?”

Charlotte proceeded to give her the relevant details of their interview with Bostock. “I had a private word with him afterwards. He said he’s willing to agree to a divorce. The only thing is he doesn’t want you to have any of his fifty thousand a year.” She sniffed. “How do you feel about that?”

“
I don’t want anything of his.”

“
You’ve got to live, Marion. After all, he is your husband, and you’re entitled to a part of the estate when you divorce.”

“
I’ll get by somehow. Besides, if we divided our assets, he’d be entitled to half the house, wouldn’t he?”

“
He wouldn’t be able to enforce any rights to it until Tracey finished school.”

“
Never mind.” She pouted. “I’d rather we had a clean break. I expect Freddie would help if I asked.”

“
I should hope so. After all, the girl
is
his daughter.”

“
But what’s going to happen to Freddie now?”

“
My colleague, Detective Inspector Paulson, has arranged with his colleagues in the Met. to go to London tomorrow to arrest him. The man should get a lengthy spell in jail.”

Marion was quiet for a long time, thinking about it. At last she said, “That might change things a bit.” After another pause she said, “I really did love him once, you know, even though I knew he never really thought much about me.”

“
But not any more?”

“
No.” She shook her head almost violently. “No. I’m getting rid of all that past. Now I’m thinking about the future.”

Charlotte put her head on one side. “Maybe with James? You’re already quite fond of him, aren’t you?”

“
Oh, it’s much too early to think about things like that. I’m just going to live for the present and see what life brings me.”

“
Very sensible.” Charlotte patted her arm. “Well, I’ll be getting off. I need to be in the office early tomorrow because I’ve got rakes of paperwork to clear up and then I’ve got to report to Plymouth.”

“
To Plymouth?”

“
Yes. I’m being transferred there next week.”

“
But you’ve hardly arrived in Torquay.”

“
I know.” Charlotte shrugged. “But I have to go where I’m sent and it will give me an opportunity to introduce my computer program to somewhere new. So it’s goodbye.”

“
Goodbye Charlotte. We’ll all miss you.”

As Marion opened the door for her, Charlotte almost bumped into James who was standing outside, just about to lift the knocker. She thought he looked very smart.

“
Oh - er - hello.” The man was clearly embarrassed by the sudden confrontation.

“
Hello,” said the detective. “I guess you’re the case I didn’t manage to solve.” She raised a finger. “I hope you make sure that you repay Marion’s faith in you.”

He looked suitably chastened. “I promise you I will never behave like that again.”

Charlotte nodded. “Well, there she is, all ready for you. She’s on her own now. Don’t forget that she needs your care and consideration.”

His eyes lit up as he looked at Marion. “I hope I can be worthy of her.”

Charlotte walked off, leaving them gazing at each other, and told herself she was a sentimental fool.