For the first time, Michael spoke. ‘Yvonne means he’s a psychopath.’
Duncan’s face collapsed.
Maggie stood; went to him. There was nothing she could say to make it better, so she just put her arms round him and held him while he cried.
Michael and Yvonne left after midnight. Duncan had been hitting the brandy hard and had eventually fallen asleep in his chair, so Maggie showed them out. As they stood on the gravel by Michael’s Land Rover, no one speaking, Yvonne, to Maggie’s surprise, pulled her into a brief hug.
‘They’re surely not going to give him bail,’ Yvonne said. ‘He’ll be remanded in custody, and then he’ll be put away for murdering that boy; for trying to murder Isla. You don’t have to worry about Nick any more.’
As Maggie slowly made her way back to the front door, she looked in at the lighted windows of the drawing room, at the scene that might have come straight out a period drama – a handsome man sleeping in a big fancy chair in a posh room. Just went to show you never could tell. A couple of lines came into her head from somewhere, maybe something she’d learned at school or more likely seen on telly:
For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;
Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
17
Lulu - June 2019
PCs Melissa Jackson and Iain Mair refused Lulu’s offer of tea or coffee and got straight down to business, sitting at the kitchen table, the two of them opposite Nick and Lulu. PC Jackson took out her phone and asked if they minded if she recorded the conversation, while PC Mair, an older, jowly man with cropped grey hair, got out a notebook.
‘When was the last time you actually saw Ms Moncrieff?’ he asked.
Lulu didn’t have to think about that one. ‘Three days before she disappeared. She and Michael were over for dinner on Tuesday night. That was the last time we saw her. Unless you . . .?’ She turned to Nick.
‘No, I didn’t see her after that.’ He was frowning at PC Mair. ‘I’m not quite sure why you’re wasting your time with this. What’s the relevance of Yvonne’s movements in the days leading up to . . .’ He swallowed. ‘To her disappearance? I mean, her car was there at the wood. It’s obvious she’s gone for a walk and got into trouble. Yvonne’s a great walker. She could have gone miles from the car. You need to extend the search.’
‘We’ve extended it as far as she could reasonably have walked in the time. We’re now exploring other avenues.’
‘What other “avenues” can there possibly be?’
‘We’re just checking people’s movements on the day in question,’ said PC Jackson, completely unruffled. ‘I understand that Mr Moncrieff called you, Mrs Clyde, to let you know that his wife was missing?’
‘Yes. Well, we didn’t know she was missing at that stage. She hadn’t returned from her walk, and we thought she’d maybe slipped on the wet path and hurt herself.’
‘Where were you when you got the call?’
‘We were here. I –’ Oh God. She was going to have to admit to having taken the car out secretly to go and see Carol. ‘I had just got back from visiting Carol Jardine.’ She shot a look at Nick, expecting him to be staring at her in horror, to be angry, but he didn’t react. He was looking down at the table, as if his mind was on other things.
‘And at what time would you have left here to make your visit?’
‘About three o’clock? Yes, it would have been around three o’clock because that’s when Nick closets himself in the study to work every afternoon, and I was at a loose end, so . . . so I decided to take the car and visit Carol,’ she ended lamely.
‘And you, Mr Clyde?’
‘As my wife says, I was working. I’m a City trader. We’re sort of on holiday, but I still have to clock in at certain times to keep things ticking over. I was making trades and speaking to clients from three to four-thirty.’
PC Mair looked at Nick for a moment. ‘And that can be corroborated, I suppose?’
Lulu’s heart did a little flip.
They hadn’t asked her for corroboration of her movements, so why were they asking Nick? They thought Nick might have something to do with Yvonne’s disappearance? Thank goodness he had a watertight alibi.
‘Yes, of course it can be corroborated,’ Nick said impatiently. ‘Why? You think one of us – what? Lured Yvonne into the forest and bumped her off?’ He gave a short laugh. ‘Ten out of ten for thinking outside the box, but really, I think your time would be better spent searching said forest. But I suppose sitting on your arses in people’s kitchens is a rather more pleasant way of spending an evening. We had intended going back out searching now ourselves, but if we’re suspects, maybe that’s not permitted?’
‘No one’s a suspect, sir,’ said PC Jackson smoothly. ‘We’re just, as I said, getting an idea of everyone’s movements.’
Nick raised his eyebrows. ‘I’d forgotten just how weird and wonderful policing is up here. My family had some very . . . shall we say interesting experiences with the force a few years back. Very creative thinking outside the box on your part, to the extent that my father and then myself were arrested, on no evidence whatsoever. Nothing much has changed, I see.’
‘Just trying to do our jobs, sir.’
‘Hmm. Yes. Could try a little harder, I feel.’
Lulu showed them out, and when she returned to the kitchen she found Nick leaning back against the worktop, arms folded.
‘What on earth was all that about?’ she said. ‘Why would they think either of us –’