The Therapist(32)
‘It was unethical of me, I know. But I’ve been trying to gain access to the house for over a year now. I posed as a potential buyer once but the estate agent stayed with me the whole time, so I was unable to do what I’d hoped to do, which was take a look at the room where the murder took place. Without a general idea of the layout of the place where a victim died, it’s hard to offer an alternative version as to what might have happened that night.’ He gives a slight smile. ‘The fact that I was shadowed during my visit only strengthened my belief that my client’s brother wasn’t responsible for Nina Maxwell’s murder. I’m convinced the agency had instructions from the police to keep a close eye on anyone who showed an interest in the house.’
My curiosity aroused, I move to the chair nearest the door and perch on it. ‘Why would they do that?’
‘Perhaps they were hoping the real killer would return to the crime scene and somehow give himself away.’
‘But the police believe that the killer is dead, don’t they? That it’s a closed case.’
‘Not according to my source.’ He sees my frown. ‘Yes, it’s true, every private investigator has a source somewhere in the police, just as a journalist does. Often the same one. And my source tells me that the investigation is still ongoing.’ He pauses. ‘Can I ask if your experience was the same when you visited the house?’
‘My husband visited it without me. I only saw it after he bought it.’ He tries to hide his surprise but he’s not quick enough. ‘So, our drinks evening?’
‘I thought I’d be able to pass unnoticed.’ He gives a slight smile. ‘It didn’t occur to me that you had only invited people from here. Once I realised, I left.’
‘Well, my next-door neighbour, the lady who let you in, is elderly and she’s been badly affected by all this. She was very upset when she learned that you weren’t a friend of mine.’
‘I’m sorry. Again, I’d imagined a big party and thought I’d be able to slip in through the gate behind someone.’
‘How did you get in? Just now? You didn’t disturb my neighbour again, did you?’
He shakes his head. ‘I intended to ring your intercom in the hope that you would agree to listen to what I had to say. But there was someone in front of me and he let me in. I wanted to tell him that he should be more careful but I suppose that if he’d been playing by the rules, he would have had to slam the gate in my face, and most people aren’t like that, they’re too polite. Last time I came to see you I walked in through the main gate after a car.’ Another pause. ‘I don’t know if you or your husband are on a residents’ committee or anything but perhaps you should mention it, and maybe change the code. I was able to see the code he typed in over his shoulder.’
‘I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand what you’re doing here.’
He shifts on his seat. ‘Believe me, I wouldn’t be troubling you if time wasn’t running out.’
‘What do you mean?’
A shadow clouds his face. ‘My client isn’t in good health. She’s determined to clear her brother’s name while she can.’ He stops and I can see that he’s having some kind of internal struggle. ‘I was at university with Helen,’ he says, giving up the struggle. ‘I never really knew Oliver because he was five years younger than us, but even back then I knew how much he meant to her. When she said she didn’t believe Oliver was responsible for Nina’s murder, and asked me to help her, I felt I couldn’t refuse.’
I nod sympathetically, desperately sorry for Oliver’s sister.
‘Why is Oliver’s sister persuaded that it wasn’t him who killed Nina?’ I ask. ‘Nobody wants to think the worst of someone they love. Maybe she just doesn’t want to believe that her brother was capable of murder.’
‘That’s what I thought at first. I hate to say it but I was – and this sounds awful – humouring Helen by agreeing to look into the murder, because in my experience, it bore all the hallmarks of a typical crime of passion. But many people have testified that Oliver Maxwell was the gentlest, kindest of men and that he adored Nina. The cynics point to his suicide and say that he killed himself because he couldn’t cope with what he’d done. Those that knew him take it as a testimony of his broken heart. Not only couldn’t he bear to live without her, he also couldn’t bear to live with the violence of her death.’
So which camp did that put Eve, Tamsin and Maria in, I wonder? They had known Oliver, they had told me he was the loveliest of men. Yet they believed that he killed Nina. Why was that?
‘Wait a minute – did you say “crime of passion”?’ I say, realising.
‘Yes.’ He pauses. ‘Apparently, Nina had been having an affair.’
I stare at him. ‘An affair?’
He leans forward in his seat. His skin is pale, almost translucent, providing a marked contrast with his dark hair.
‘Yes.’
‘But – who with?’
‘That’s what I’m trying to find out.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I think he might be responsible for her murder.’
My mind reels. ‘Did the police know she was having an affair?’