Murder... Now and Then Read Free

that’s true.’
    â€˜I know that she knows nothing at all about the job she’s supposed to be doing. Holyoak must go through her lines with her every morning – you try asking her a question that isn’t in the script and see what happens.’
    â€˜Of course she’s his mistress, Charles,’ said Geraldine, turning once more to look at the object of his gossip. ‘ She doesn’t have any background in this sort of work – she doesn’t have any background at all, that anyone can find. How else would she get that sort of job? And it’s only natural for the man to want female company.’
    Charles looked up sharply. ‘It may be natural,’ he said. ‘It’s not obligatory.’
    â€˜Oh, come off it!’ said Zelda. ‘Men whose wives are perfectly capable of satisfying them look round for someone else – why in the world wouldn’t he?’
    â€˜Perhaps he meant it when he said he would take her in sickness and in health, and would forsake all others,’ said Charles.
    Geraldine shook her head in wonderment, and looked back at her husband. ‘Charles – has it never even crossed your mind to sleep with another woman?’ she asked.
    â€˜â€™No,’ he said simply.
    No. She thought not. Some women would have been reassured by that but Geraldine wasn’t.
    â€˜I think I’ll go and see if Catherine’s all right,’ said Zelda, getting up from the table.
    Charles waited until she was out of earshot before he spoke. ‘Why did Zelda think I’d know about Catherine’s supposedly being pregnant?’ he asked.
    Geraldine couldn’t see that it mattered now. ‘ She’s forgotten we weren’t in the same practice in those days,’ she said. ‘She assumed you’d have known at the time.’
    â€˜She really was pregnant?’
    â€˜Yes. Three months. I arranged for a termination.’
    â€˜Oh.’
    One syllable. One syllable that said all the things that had been said too many times before. Catherine had had a baby, and had thrown it away.
    â€˜You can’t blame her, Gerry,’ he said.
    Yes she could.
    â€˜She – was seventeen,’ he said. ‘Max was under suspicion of murder.’
    â€˜I heard all the good reasons at the time,’ she said.
    â€˜And agreed with them, or you wouldn’t have arranged for the termination,’ he said.
    Oh, yes. She had agreed.
    Judy Hill ran her hands through the short brown hair that she hadn’t even had time to wash yet. Getting Lloyd ready for his big moment had been worse than trying to get a five-year-old ready to be a pageboy. She flopped down on Lloyd’s big armchair, and smiled.
    Election fever was at its pitch at this midpoint in the campaign; a minister of the Crown was in Stansfield to open what used to be Driver Security’s big new factory, and Detective Chief Inspector Lloyd was hopefully now present at the opening ceremony, representing the chief super, who had been called away at the last moment. He had grumbled loudly about this extra burden, while secretly being tickled to death. Not about the honour of representing Stansfield’s finest – Lloyd already knew he was Stansfield’s finest – not about meeting a cabinet minister, for which breed he had no time at all, and certainly not about liaising, as he had had to do, with Special Branch, whose entire establishment he dismissed with a snort at every opportunity.
    No. But Stansfield was a marginal seat and Stansfield was news. The TV cameras would be there, and Lloyd’s only previous flirtation with the medium had been attended by technical gremlins. This time, if the viewing millions were to catch a glimpse of him, he would be at his best. Not that they were likely to interview him, but there was an outside chance that he would be seen, and he had been determined to look his best which preparations had included shaving