‘Well, that was quite a session,’ said Michael Robinson. ‘I’m pleased I was able to catch him for you.’
Tim barely answered. Increasingly, it seemed that all the crimes they had been investigating were interconnected in some way – the neat solution they’d dreamed of, but now it was turning into a nightmare. He doubted they’d ever be able to unravel all the crimes completely or catch everyone who’d been involved.
Worst of all, Fovargue was still free – and, if what Buckland said was true, he’d carried out at least some of the murders alone. Was Susie actually party to any of the killings, or were her assertions the product of a deluded brain, or even misplaced loyalty to Fovargue? She hadn’t sounded very loyal when crouched over that cesspit, though: more like she hated her husband’s guts. And she’d known what the cesspit was used for. When she’d uncovered it, she’d been looking for something: probably something of Martha’s or Martha’s body.
Martha Johnson had known about the cesspit, too – it was she who had told them about it. Had she discovered – or guessed – its grisly secrets? Or had she just been prattling in her inconsequential way when she mentioned it? And had Fovargue really made her unhappy, as Buckland asserted? Tim had seen no evidence of it.
‘Excuse me, Michael,’ he said curtly. ‘If there’s been no word from the hospital, I need to ring to see how Juliet is.’
‘Has she been injured?’ Michael Robinson asked, his voice edged with alarm. ‘I hope she’s okay!’ For the first time, Tim was convinced he was being sincere.
‘Susie Fovargue slashed at her with a billhook. I don’t know how bad it is. Give me a couple of minutes, will you? Then if you like you can help me interview Marriott and the other Buckland. Just witness statements, at least for now.’
‘Sure. You’ll let me know how Juliet is?’
Tim nodded. Across the room he could see Ricky gesturing. He wanted to shake Robinson off.
‘I’m sure Superintendent Thornton would appreciate a chat,’ he said.
‘I’m not so sure about that, but I’ll give it a try.’
‘DS Armstrong’s been sedated,’ said Ricky quietly, as Tim went to sit alongside him. ‘They’ve stopped the bleeding and cleaned the wound. It’s deep, apparently. She’s going to need plastic surgery.’
‘Oh, God,’ said Tim. ‘Is anyone with her? Can we visit her?’
‘As I said, she’s been sedated. PC Tandy’s volunteered to spend the night at the hospital. If the doctors think she’s strong enough, they may let us see her for a few minutes tomorrow.’
‘She doesn’t have any next of kin, does she?’
‘Not in this country. Is there anyone else we should inform?’
‘No, I don’t think so – but wait, there is one person. I think his number’s still programmed into my phone.’
Tim kept his call with Jake Fidler short. He’d only met Jake professionally and just on a few occasions; he was uncertain whether Juliet would welcome the intervention or not. Fidler was equally reserved when they spoke, but he seemed grateful.
For privacy, Tim had shut himself into the kitchen. As he re-emerged into the open-plan area, DI Robinson came flying down the stairs.
‘Come quickly, Timmo, you’ve got to listen to this.’
Annoyed that Robinson was once again in the thick of it, Tim followed him up the stairs to Superintendent Thornton’s office. Thornton was speaking to someone on the phone. As soon as he saw Tim, he gestured him to his side.
‘DI Yates is here, now,’ he said. ‘I’m sure he’d like to speak to you.’ He handed Tim the phone.
‘Who is it?’ Tim mouthed.
‘Martha Johnson,’ Thornton mouthed back.
‘Martha?’ said Tim into the phone. ‘Where are you? Are you safe?’
‘I’m at my father’s house.’
‘Where’s that?’
‘North Hykeham.’
‘Is your father with you?’
‘Yes. He persuaded me to come here. When he found out about Jack, he made me see that what I was doing – what Jack and I were doing – was wrong.’
‘But, Martha, you must be aware that there’s a massive search going on for you. Your father certainly knows – he came to your house to meet us.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. But when I told Jack I was thinking of leaving he seemed so… intense, like a stalker, that I was afraid of him. He could be… harsh when he wanted his own way. I thought he’d come after me. And then I came to Dad’s and the whole thing just snowballed. I’m still worried Jack’s trying to find me.’
‘Did you have any specific reason for not trusting him? Did you find something suspicious?’
‘I don’t understand what you mean. Suspicious? What kind of thing?’
Tim sighed. He hated leading questions, but he was inexpressibly weary and time was short.
‘There was a pile of files on your desk. Had you been searching through them?’
‘Those were Susie’s files. Someone left them there; I suppose it was her. They were of no interest to me, but I didn’t like to move them. It didn’t take much to upset her where I was concerned. I decided to work around them until she took them away again. Listen, I know you’re after Jack and he’s on the run. I’m really scared that he’s going to come here.’
Michael Robinson tapped Tim on the arm.
‘May I?’ he said, holding out his hand for the phone. Tim passed it over.
‘Martha, this is DI Robinson. I’m a colleague of DI Yates. North Hykeham’s on my patch. I’m going to send a squad car to fetch you now. I’ll make sure that one of the officers is a policewoman. I’ll ask her to bring you here – to Spalding. There’s nothing to be afraid of. We can talk some more when you get here.’ He handed the phone back to Tim.
‘Goodbye for now, Martha. We’ll see you shortly.’
‘Any chance that Fovargue is on his way to North Hykeham?’ asked the Superintendent.
‘I doubt it, unless he’s gone by a very roundabout route. It’s barely ten miles from the Lincoln showground,’ said Robinson. ‘My guess is that he’s put as much distance between himself and Lincolnshire as he can. He could be in Scotland by now.’
‘If Martha really didn’t suspect anything, Susie must have engineered the thing with the files,’ said Tim. ‘She said she was angry with Fovargue for killing Martha without her, but perhaps she was really trying to provoke him into killing her. And Fovargue panicked because he thought Susie had killed Martha. Unhinged or not, Susie was right about one thing: once the trust between them was broken, they were bound to come unstuck.’
‘Thank God for that,’ said the Superintendent piously. Then, more briskly, ‘But if both of them are killers, that’s small consolation while Fovargue himself is still at large.’ He stood up and walked out of his office, as if personally affronted by the idea.
‘Ever the master of the obvious statement,’ said Michael Robinson.
Despite himself, Tim laughed.