The Distant Echo Page 0,161

paper in front of him. "At that meeting, an envelope changed hands. From you to Hardie. A bulky envelope, Ms. Donaldson. Would you care to tell us what was in that envelope?"

Jackie tried not to show her shock. Tony stirred at her side. "I'd like to speak to my client in private," he said hastily.

"No, it's OK, Tony," Jackie said. "I have nothing to hide. When I spoke to Gary to arrange the meeting, he told me someone had shown him the magazine article, and he'd liked the photograph they'd used. He wanted some copies for himself. So I had prints made and I took them to Ramblas with me. If you don't believe me, you can check with the photo lab. They don't process much black and white. They might remember. I also have the receipt in my accounts file."

Tony leaned in. "You see, Inspector? Nothing sinister. Just a journalist trying to keep a good contact happy. If that's the extent of your new material, then there is no reason for my client to be held here a moment longer."

Heggie looked mildly put out. "Did you ask Gary Hardie to have David Kerr killed?" he asked.

Jackie shook her head. "No."

"Did you ask Gary Hardie if he could put you in touch with someone who would murder David Kerr?"

"No. It never crossed my mind." Jackie's head was up now, chin out, fear battened down.

"You never once thought how much more pleasant life would be without David Kerr? And how easily you could arrange that?"

"This is bullshit." She slammed her hands palm down on the table. "Why are you wasting your time with me when you should be doing your job?"

"I am doing my job," Heggie said calmly. "That's why you're here."

Tony glanced at his watch. "Not for much longer, Inspector. Either arrest my client or let her go. This interview is over." He placed a hand over Jackie's.

A minute feels like a very long time in a police interview room. Heggie held the pause, his eyes never leaving Jackie. Then he pushed his chair back. "Interview terminated at six twenty-five. You're free to go," he said, his voice grudging. He hit the button that switched off the tape recorders. "I don't believe you, Ms. Donaldson," he said as he got to his feet. "I think you and He'd Kerr conspired to have David Kerr killed. I think you wanted her for yourself. I think you went out that night to pay off your hitman. And that's what I intend to prove." At the door, he turned back. "This is just the beginning."

As the door closed behind the detectives, Jackie covered her face with her hands. "Jesus Christ," she said.

Tony gathered his things together, then put an arm round her shoulders. "You handled that well. They've got nothing."

"I've seen people tried on thinner evidence. They've got their teeth into this. They're not going to stop till they've got somebody who can put me outside my flat that night. Jesus. I can't believe Gary Hardie came out of the woodwork just now."

"I wish you'd mentioned that to me before," Tony said, loosening his tie and stretching.

"I'm sorry. I'd no idea it was going to come up. It's not like I think about Gary Hardie every day. And it's not like he had anything to do with this. You do believe me, don't you, Tony?" She looked anxious. If she couldn't convince her lawyer, she stood no chance against the police.

"What I believe doesn't matter. It's what they can prove. And right now, they've got nothing that a good advocate wouldn't demolish in minutes." He yawned. "Great way to spend the night, eh?"

Jackie stood up. "Let's get out of this shithole. Even the air feels contaminated."

Tony grinned. "Somebody should give Heggie a decent bottle of aftershave for his next birthday. Whatever he was wearing smelled like a polecat in heat."

"It would take more than Paco Rabane to grant him membership to the human race," Jackie snarled. "Are they holding He'd here too?"

"No." Tony took a deep breath. "It's probably a good idea if you two don't see much of each other just now."

Jackie gave him a look that mingled hurt and disappointment. "Why not?"

"Because if you stay away from each other, it's harder to demonstrate that you're in cahoots. Being together might look as if you're discussing strategies to keep your stories straight."

"That's stupid," she said firmly. "We're friends, for fuck's sake. Lovers. Where else do you go for support and comfort? If

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