been. Might that help him at his trial? Weedon's face was expressionless.
“And now for my second tip,” went on Derwent's voice. There was none of the hatred on this recording that there had been on the others – just a devastating scathingness which showed how little Derwent had thought of Peter. It was, if anything rather more insulting than the hatred. “Did you hear that I'd died of Aids?” Derwent laughed his horrible laugh. “I'd love to have seen your face when you read the card, but it must have been even better when you heard the rumour. Not only were you a cuckold, but you'd got the pox to go along with it.” His laughter echoed round the room. Peter found it difficult to contain his temper. Derwent had made a complete ass of him. He had laughed at him for borrowing money, pretended he had had his wife, then claimed to have died of Aids to scare the pants off him. “The louse, the fucking lousy louse.”
“Keep clam,” warned Wenner, sensing how he felt. We might be able to turn this to good use yet. You were a man driven crazy by this man's taunts. I'm sure....”
“Who set the rumour going?” Peter interrupted him.
“About the Aids?”
“Whoever it was is just as bad as Derwent. He should hang for spreading a rumour like that which he knew to be untrue.”
“Perhaps,” said Wenner, “but it would be very difficult to lay it at anyone's door. Better to concentrate on trying to win sympathy by using this tape.” Peter listened to what Tom Wenner had to say and by the time his solicitor left he felt quite buoyant again. Maybe his sentence wouldn't be so bad after all. Never one to face the truth, especially if it were unpalatable, Peter began to think what he would do in the future.
His barrister made good use of the tape and thought that Peter was very lucky to get off with a ten year sentence, but Peter didn't share his view. He brooded in jail over the repayment which had been exacted from him by Derwent Mollosey and there was now no way he could ever get even. There was only one thing that Peter was sure of – he was an innocent man who had suffered at the hands of his friends and his wife. Not many people would have agreed with him. Probably only his doting mother.
…....................................................................................
By the time the tape dropped through the Carsons' letterbox, Rachel was not much interested in anything. It was clear Graham did not have much longer to live and the memories she had of him in his last months were all bitter. He never ceased to blame and condemn her although she was not clear for what. He seemed to blame her for having developed Aids, but he must know she had never been unfaithful to him. It must simply be a way of transferring guilt. She forgot about the tape for a few days and found it in a drawer when she was looking for a letter to which she intended to reply. She decided to listen to it before she took it to Graham to make sure there was nothing on it to distress him further.
She slipped it into the tape recorder on the radio. “Hello, Derwent Mollosey here. Your old friend. I always told you I'd repay you for dropping me as a client and didn't you like the way I did it?” That awful laugh again. “Telling you that frump of a wife of yours had been in bed with me. No chance, but I bet it set you wondering. I can just imagine your face going all prunish and then when you heard the news that I'd died of Aids – well that must have made your day. Poor old Graham. Of course none of it was true. Did she manage to convince you? There was more in the same vein, but Rachel just sat silently crying. Had Graham believed all this? If he had, how did that tie up with his having Aids now? He couldn't have gone out and had sex with the first girl he could find as a way of revenge! She couldn't believe that. Oh, Graham, oh Graham. Her mind started to drift back to when she had first met him.
In Devon she had led a very sheltered life – the only child of parents who watched over her every move. She had done well at