ART FIVE: CODA

Chapter 22

It was just after nine the following morning when Paddy pulled back the curtains in her bedroom and turned to look at the waking figure in her bed. Lindsay's sleep-rumpled hair suited a disreputable appearance that included a black eye, a split and swollen lip and a badly bruised jaw. She opened her eyes and winced as the pain hit her. Paddy brought her a glass of orange juice and smiled anxiously. 'How are you feeling?' she inquired.

'Like I've been run over by a truck,' Lindsay replied crossly. 'I'm sure that bastard Dart deliberately let Cartwright work me over.'

'I don't know what you're talking about, you know,' Paddy complained. 'You staggered in here last night looking as though you'd been mugged, told us everything was all right, demanded a large Scotch and a bed and refused point-blank to tell us a bloody thing more until you'd slept. Cordelia has been going out of her head with worry. I couldn't get her to bed till gone three. Really, Lindsay, you are the pits.'

Lindsay attempted a scowl, then thought better of it. 'Sorry. I had just had more than enough for one day. Anyway, shouldn't you be teaching? Isn't that what they pay you for?'

'I've managed to off-load my classes for today on the grounds that I'm nursing an invalid journalist. So if Pamela Overton comes across, try to look sick.'

That won't be hard. Where's Cordelia?'

'Upstairs, I presume. I've given her the guest room. She was sufficiently anaesthetised by the time she went to bed to sleep half the morning if we let her.'

'Where did you sleep, then?'

'On the sofa. After prison comforts, it seemed like the Ritz.'

'Sorry I spoilt your homecoming.'

'Never mind that. Just tell me what the hell has been going on!'

'When I've had a shower and Cordelia's here. Not till then. I'm not going over the whole thing twice.'

Paddy wasn't happy with this answer, but Lindsay was adamant, insisting on washing and dressing immediately. Paddy left to fetch Cordelia, and Lindsay winced her way to the bathroom, where she let the hot water soothe away some of the aches from her battered body.

When she emerged, Cordelia was pacing the living-room. She rushed to Lindsay and hugged her. For the first time since she'd woken up, Lindsay forgot her pain. 'Don't ever scare me like that again,' Cordelia murmured. Thank God you're all right.' Paddy looked mildly astonished, then discreetly exited to the kitchen to brew more coffee.

When she returned, the two lovers were sitting together, Lindsay with her bruised head on Cordelia's shoulder. She sat up to relate the events of the previous evening. Just the telling of it was enough to make her shiver with horror. And the effect on Paddy and Cordelia was no less chilling.

'You must be crazy, Lindsay,' Cordelia cried. 'Going in there on your own. You could have been killed. You should have taken me with you.'

Lindsay shook her head, 'No, this was one thing that had to be done solo. There's no way Cartwright would have opened up at all if there had been two of us. He wouldn't have fallen for the line I took. He'd simply have tried to brazen it out. So I had to trust Dart to take care of me.

'He'd fitted me out with a very good radio microphone, so that was transmitting everything said and done in the room. The cops were sitting outside in a troop of unmarked police cars with a van parked in the next-door neighbour's drive behind the, shrubbery. And for extra security, Dart's sergeant was outside the office window with one of those limpet microphones.

'Dart was very quick at getting the operation together once I'd convinced him it was the only way to do it. He wouldn't hear of it to begin with, but I told him if he wouldn't help me, I'd do it on my own and the only way he could stop me was to throw me in the cells. He finally relented when I pointed out that eventually I'd be back on the streets again, and I'd go straight to Cartwright and confront him. At least when the case comes to trial I'll have a wonderful exclusive to flog - How I Caught The Girls' School Killer.'

'Yes. The scars will probably have healed by then,' said Cordelia drily.

'I'm sorry to be a bore,' said Paddy, 'But you'll have to bear with me. Don't forget, I've not been party to all these discussions you've had in the course of the past week. Someone has yet to explain to me exactly what has been going on. Starting from the murder.'

Lindsay took a deep breath and began. 'I now know how precarious James Cartwright's financial position was. He admitted last night he didn't have a brass farthing. Inspector Dart told me he'd made some bad property deals lately. He had already raised a lot of capital on the strength of his time-share scheme and it was absolutely crucial that the playing fields deal succeeded. Had he not pulled it off, he would have been forced into liquidation and bankruptcy. He couldn't face that prospect; he enjoyed his lifestyle too much. And he was worried about losing Sarah's affection and respect if he couldn't give her the life she was used to.

'He tried to bribe Lorna not to play that night. Even though the tickets had already been sold, if Lorna had pulled out, a lot of people would have been looking for their money back. And it would have completely discredited any further attempt to raise the money. But Lorna wouldn't hear of it. She was enjoying herself far too much watching people being upset by her presence. Also, in spite of herself, I think she did care about the school. And she had sufficient integrity as an artist not to let her public down. So she refused, and in deeply insulting terms. He was thwarted and also very angry. That's when he thought of trying to murder her. He had reached the end of his tether, something Lorna couldn't have known. He was desperate enough to be dangerous.

'He knew the school layout very well. So, when everyone was at dinner, he went to the music room and helped himself to a cello string. He was probably wearing his driving gloves, because the police haven't found any prints. He probably also checked that the window catches were still easy to manipulate. Then he fetched the scaffolding and set it up.

'He dashed back to the Woolpack and bought a pint. He must have downed it in a oner, because by about twelve minutes past seven he was back at the school. He went to Longnor - I guess because he knew the cloakroom was near the door and it would be quieter than the main building - and helped himself to a toggle, presumably having realised by then that the string was sharp enough to cause bad cuts even through gloves if he used it on its own. That's almost certainly when Sarah saw him. I think she was probably coming downstairs to go for a walk at the time, or to go down to the gym to do some exercises, perhaps.

'I'm guessing a bit now. But I think she followed him, catching up with him as he was preparing the garrotte or climbing up the fire escape to the scaffolding. He sent her back telling her to forget she'd seen him.

'Then, of course, he killed Lorna. He had to leave the scaffolding on the kitchen roof because he was running out of time to keep up the alibi he'd set himself. Of course, once the murder was common knowledge, Sarah must have realised her father was implicated. The girl must have been under colossal strain all last week. I suppose your arrest made things even worse for her, Paddy. Then when she heard about our experiments with the scaffolding, she must have felt sure the net was closing around her father.

'She must have realised that the lie she'd told the police about you in the music room would be found out. Incidentally, I don't think she lied out of particular malice - at that stage, after all, it wasn't clear that the police were going to arrest you. I think she was just trying to cloud the issue in every conceivable way possible. I think what drove her to commit suicide was a combination of factors. She knew her father was a killer and she couldn't bear it, but she still wanted to protect him, and the only way she could do that was to kill herself. Just confessing wouldn't have been enough. She'd never have been able to make up a story that would have satisfied the police. And she probably felt that if she gave herself up to the police, the very thing that she was trying to avoid would happen - her father would give himself up to protect her.

'As it was, I'm not altogether sure he would have done. He was happy enough for her to carry the blame after her death. That's what I find most inhuman about him.' She paused to pour out more coffee. 'God, my throat is sore. I'm amazed there are hardly any bruises on it. I thought he was going to kill me.'

Paddy looked puzzled. 'But everyone seemed to be satisfied after Sarah's death that the whole thing had been cleared up. What made you think you knew better?'

'Apart from a general sense of superiority, she means,' said Cordelia with a rather grim smile.

'I finally got on the right track when I asked Jessica Bennett a question we should have asked her when we first interviewed her. When I saw her yesterday I wanted to ask her if she'd seen Sarah at all on that Saturday evening - just for my own satisfaction, I suppose, though I did have one or two doubts about Sarah's

confession. It seemed so superficial, so lacking in feeling and detail. But Jessica's answer put Sarah out of the running. She said she'd seen Sarah going out of Longnor at about quarter past seven.

'And at the crucial time when the murder must have been committed to avoid any comings and goings, Jessica saw Sarah in the cloakroom. She tried to talk to her. But Sarah went straight upstairs. Jessica didn't see her again that night.

'That removed Sarah from the list of suspects. But it put her father right back into the frame. However, Anthony Barrington still seemed a possibility, and I thought on balance I'd prefer to talk to him. Barrington gave me such a hard time, I was convinced he was innocent. He was too outraged to be guilty. And then, of course, he called Dart and I was hauled off to the nick.

'And the rest you know,' she said, closing her eyes as a wave of tiredness hit her.

She forced her eyes open again. 'I've got to go and give the police a statement at noon. And then, if you don't mind, Paddy, I want to go home. I've got work to go to on Wednesday, and I could do with a day's sleep.'

'I understand,' said Paddy. Til never be able to pay you and Cordelia back for what you've done for me. But come back soon and see us again, promise?'

Lindsay grinned but said, 'Ouch! I must stop doing that. I'll come soon if you guarantee no hassles.'

'I guarantee it.' They smiled at each other, relaxed again after the upheavals of the last ten days.

I'll drive you back to Glasgow,' said Cordelia, 'You're far too tired to hammer up the motorway on your own. Besides, I think we've got one or two things to talk about.'

Paddy's eyebrows had shot up. 'Well, well, well,' she marvelled. 'I see some good has come out of all this.'

'Surprised?' demanded Cordelia.

'Before we get into all of that, I need to phone my newsdesk,' said Lindsay apologetically. 'Sorry. Since I've got to go down the cop shop this morning, if I don't put over a story nice and early my life won't be worth living on Wednesday. Can I use the phone?'

Paddy grinned at Cordelia. 'How does it feel to play second fiddle to a news story?'

Cordelia pulled a face. 'I don't think I want to get used to the idea. Maybe Lindsay could change her priorities. . . just a bit?'

Lindsay dialled the number. 'Yeah, yeah, okay, Cordelia. I'll work on it. But tomorrow, eh, please. . . Hello? Duncan? Lindsay here. I've got a real belter for you this morning...'