The Bullet That Missed (Thursday Murder Club, #3)(67)

I wonder if Viktor will remember if he slept with Elizabeth. I think one probably would.





54





The three men are sitting on Jack Mason’s verandah in the moonlight, with a strip heater and a tumbler of whisky each, keeping them warm. Lights blink out at sea. Ron feels the whisky warm his chest, and his eyelids begin to droop. Give him this over a massage any day of the week.

What a lovely day they’ve had. BBQ on the heated terrace, snooker, cards. Couldn’t wish for more. Viktor gently prodding here and there, Jack avoiding his questions.

The snooker is over for the evening. The first, everyone hopes, of a regular game. Three old men, three new friends. The gangster, the KGB colonel and the trades union official.

‘It must be a burden, Jack,’ says Viktor.

‘What’s that?’ Jack asks.

‘Your scheme,’ says Viktor. ‘It should have been so clean. Then Bethany dies. And now Heather dies. That must weigh on you. Your responsibility?’

Jack nods, and raises his glass.

‘I don’t kill people, Viktor,’ says Jack. ‘Some people do, but I’ve never got a thrill from it. I like breaking the law, I like making money, I like getting one over on people.’

‘A man after my own heart,’ says Viktor. ‘Perhaps it haunts you,’ says Viktor. ‘Just a touch.’

‘A touch,’ agrees Jack.

‘I understand,’ says Viktor. ‘And you must be angry, I think I would be, with the killer?’

‘It was stupid,’ says Jack. ‘It was unnecessary.’

‘Just the thought,’ says Viktor, ‘of Bethany going over that cliff. It must wake you at times?’

‘Nah,’ says Jack. ‘You got it wrong.’

‘I sometimes do get it wrong,’ agrees Viktor. ‘I am eager to know why I am wrong now though? That vision would trouble me.’

‘Lads,’ says Jack, with a small smile, ‘can I tell you something? Unburden myself a bit?’

This sounds like it might get uncomfortably close to discussing feelings, Ron thinks, but he sees that’s how Viktor works. And they’re investigating a crime, so he’s going to have to put up with it.

‘This is not for the police,’ says Jack. ‘It’s for the three of us. What you choose to do with it, that’s your business.’

‘No one here is speaking to the police,’ says Ron. ‘Go on, Jack.’

‘There was no one in the car when it went over the cliff,’ says Jack Mason, and takes another sip of his whisky. ‘Bethany Waites was dead hours before that.’

Ron is awake now, that’s for sure. He looks at Viktor, knowing the KGB officer might have better questions than he does.

‘Well, this is an interesting development,’ says Viktor. ‘You know this for a fact, Jack?’

‘I know it for a fact,’ says Jack Mason. ‘I know who killed her, I know why, and I know where she’s buried. I know where the grave is.’

‘It sounds an awful lot like you killed her, Jack? Wouldn’t you agree?’

‘I would agree,’ says Jack. ‘But that’s just the point, isn’t it? More whisky, gents?’

Viktor and Ron both agree that’s exactly what the doctor ordered. Jack Mason pours the drinks, and settles back again.

‘You’re missing someone,’ says Jack. ‘Someone else involved in my little scheme.’

‘Man? Woman?’ asks Viktor, very casually.

‘One of those, yeah,’ says Jack Mason. If you want someone to resist questioning from a KGB officer, a Cockney isn’t a bad choice, Ron thinks.

‘So this person,’ begins Ron. ‘Probably a fella, let’s face it. They’ve killed Bethany Waites?’

‘Here’s what it is,’ says Jack Mason. ‘The scheme was coming apart. Bethany Waites was all over it – you’ve got to know when to quit? Right?’

‘Crucial,’ says Viktor.

‘I figure I’m covered. Whatever she’s got, she hasn’t got it on me, so I can just shut it down and move on.’

‘But this partner of yours?’

‘My partner was more worried,’ says Jack Mason. ‘Left me in no doubt about that. I hadn’t made any big mistakes, but my partner had. He – I’m going to say “he” but don’t read anything into it, I’ve been in this game a long time – he was worried about me talking, about Heather talking.’

‘You’d never talk,’ says Ron.

‘Never have, never will,’ agrees Jack.

‘You’re talking now, Jack,’ says Viktor, very gently. Jack waves this away.

‘So,’ says Ron. ‘This partner of yours kills Bethany Waites?’

‘Before she caused more trouble,’ says Jack. ‘Killed her, drove to Shakespeare Cliff, pushed the car off. My partner wasn’t the type at all, but he panicked. Happens to the best of us.’

‘But why wasn’t the body in the car?’ asks Viktor. ‘I wonder if you have an explanation for that?’

‘Here’s the thing,’ says Jack Mason. ‘Here’s the big problem, the thing no one’s seeing. My partner comes to me, tells me he’s murdered Bethany Waites, tells me to switch on the news and see if it’s true. Which I do, and it is. I’m not happy.’