Behind Dead Eyes (DC Ian Bradshaw #2) - Howard Linskey Page 0,31

she thought she was being followed or saw anyone else she knew. Even then the wall is set back away from the main road. You couldn’t just follow a car up that trail without being seen so I don’t understand how it could have happened.’

‘Then you have a very big hole in your story, because I don’t see how she could have been there that day if you didn’t arrange it.’

‘I know,’ Bell said and he placed his elbows on the table and put his hands up to his face in frustration. ‘I’ve driven myself half-crazy thinking about it.’

‘Then there’s your alibi,’ said Tom, ‘or lack of it. You told the court you went to see a former lover.’

‘I wouldn’t describe her as that.’

‘But you did have sex with her.’

‘She was a waitress at the sports club and it was only a two-time thing. Just a bit of fun, you know.’

‘And yet she summoned you to an urgent meeting and you dropped everything to go to her flat.’

‘She wrote to me at my office and told me she thought she was pregnant.’ Bell was exasperated. ‘Can you imagine how I felt when I got that note? She told me she had to see me. I was worried she was going to tell the whole world the baby was mine if I didn’t go.’

‘And when you called on her?’

‘She wasn’t there. She’d cleared out and the house was empty.’

‘She’d been gone a fortnight by then,’ said Tom, ‘off travelling the world, which rather blows a hole in your claim that she thought she was pregnant and desperate to see you that afternoon.’

‘I know,’ admitted Bell, ‘the police couldn’t trace her either, though I don’t think they really tried.’

‘How do you explain her letter?’

‘A prank from one of her friends or a cruel trick she played to shit me up because I wasn’t interested in seeing her again?’ Richard shook his head. ‘I don’t know what her motives were.’

‘You couldn’t produce the letter when the police asked you for it.’

‘I put it in the shredder,’ said Bell. ‘I could hardly keep it in my briefcase, could I? What if Annie found it?’

‘And the timing of this meeting roughly coincided with the time of Rebecca’s death.’

‘Within an hour or so.’ And he sighed. ‘I realise how it looks, believe me.’

‘Yeah,’ said Tom. ‘It looks bad. It looks like you killed her.’

‘Why are you still here then,’ challenged Bell, ‘if you reckon I did it?’ He sat back in his chair and stared at the reporter.

‘I’m waiting for you to convince me otherwise,’ Tom told him. ‘Perhaps I want to believe you, maybe I feel there is something not quite right about this whole case. You could be telling the truth, and when I look at the evidence against you it all feels a bit convenient; a few small things that add up to not that much but it made the jury rule against you.’

‘Go on.’

Tom started counting the points off on his fingers while Bell listened to him, ‘One; they didn’t like you. They saw you as an arrogant womaniser. Two; you can’t reasonably explain why Rebecca was there on the day she died if you didn’t summon her. Three; the judge completely disregarded the notion that Rebecca could have been killed by a stranger. Four; you have no alibi but her husband and your wife do, which rules out two other people who might just have had cause to kill her, particularly the husband since we know the killer’s blows were so strong they could only have been delivered by a man but alibis can be bought or concocted, particularly by wealthy businessmen.’

‘Exactly,’ said Bell.

‘Though how the hell we can prove that, I don’t know.’

‘It’s the injustice that makes me so angry,’ said Bell. ‘I tell you, Tom, I have even contemplated killing a man in here, just so I could say I actually deserve the punishment I’ve been given. It’s not as if there aren’t a large number of suitable candidates. You wouldn’t believe the vermin in here. They would chill you.’

Tom regarded Bell closely. He didn’t seem to realise that the words he had just uttered made him sound like a man capable of anything.

Chapter Twelve

‘Isn’t the Metro fantastic,’ announced Helen as they emerged blinking into the light of a chilly but bright afternoon, ‘a couple of stops and we’re back in Jesmond. The trains are always half empty too.’

‘That’s because they’re all still in bed,’ Peter countered, ‘unless it’s