Jam and Jeopardy (27 page)

She rose to make the tea, and her sudden silence disquieted him. Had he made a mistake? Perhaps he hadn’t been sensitive enough, and should apologise, try to explain that he’d only
said it out of kindness and to find someone to care for her, but the proper words wouldn’t come.

Placing a cosy over the teapot, she resumed her seat. ‘It’s funny you should say that, Sergeant. I’ve been thinking about it ever since Mum died. It would be nice to have
somebody of my own, especially now. I’m scared I won’t be able to cope if . . .’

She gulped, and he hoped that she wasn’t about to dissolve into tears. He’d never known how to deal with weeping women.

Fortunately for him, she carried on speaking. ‘I don’t know where to start looking, though, because the old solicitor, the only link I know, died a few years ago.’

Taking the plunge, Moore burst out, ‘I know, but we traced her.’ Seeing her mouth fall open, he rushed on. ‘We’d unearthed this illegitimate child in the course of our
investigations, you see, and we had to check it out.’

‘Do you mean . . . ? My real mother . . . ? Is she someone here in Tollerton? Somebody I know?’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’

‘Not Janet Souter.’ The horror of this possibility was quite unthinkable.

‘No, no. It’s . . . Mrs Wakeford.’ He held his breath.

‘Mrs Wakeford? But that would be marvellous, she’s such a kind, gentle person, but . . . Are you sure of the facts?’

Her delighted smile, and her ensuing abstraction, told Moore that she was dreaming of a new relationship which could be about to open for her, so he rose and poured the tea. ‘There’s
one thing you’ll have to consider.’ He looked apologetic.

The smile was still on her face as she said, ‘What’s that?’

‘Would Mrs Wakeford want to be reminded of her indiscreet past? She’s kept it hidden for a long time.’

He thought of Mabel Wakeford’s desperate attempt to stop Janet Souter from spreading this very information – adding arsenic to the jam, to which Muriel Valentine herself had almost
fallen a victim. That would have been the ultimate irony, but the poor woman had been driven to it. The minister’s wife would fold up altogether if that came out.

‘So you think I shouldn’t approach her?’ Mrs Valentine asked, after a pause.

‘It’s none of my business. If you feel strongly enough that you want to make yourself known to her, just go ahead and do it. She’d probably be pleased her daughter was a
minister’s wife.’

The mention of her husband brought the clouds back into her eyes. ‘She wouldn’t want to be related to a murderer’s wife.’

Moore hastened to console her. ‘It’s just suspicion on the inspector’s part. Your husband could be innocent.’

They both knew it was a false hope.

Endings

There were no doubts in McGillivray’s mind that Adam Valentine had killed Janet Souter. Douglas Pettigrew’s story, as relayed by John Black over the telephone, had
been the final proof. Now, it was only a case of hoping he’d be in time to avert a second, and perhaps third, murder.

He was furious with himself for endangering old Mrs Gray’s life, as well as Mrs White’s, but he’d thought the minister would break down and give himself up, not boldly attempt
to silence them under the very noses of the police.

When the inspector came out of the car, a short distance before Mrs Gray’s house, he was in a quandary. Which one should he go to first? He took a gamble. ‘Constable, you come with
me, and Sergeant, you take young Pettigrew round to Mrs White’s back door. He might try to escape that way, if he hears us at the front.’

Walking stealthily in front of Derek Paul, while John Black and Douglas Pettigrew went round the back of Mrs White’s house, he prayed that he hadn’t made the wrong choice.

If he had – and the thought caused him to break out in a cold sweat – another old lady could be dead by the time he discovered his mistake. When he reached May’s door, he
paused to take a deep breath, then he turned the handle inch by inch, trusting that she hadn’t locked it behind Valentine if he was in there. Luckily, the door gave and he edged it slowly
open.

Tiptoeing into the narrow hallway, with the constable at his heels, McGillivray could hear the murmur of voices from the living room. Mrs White was still alive, but could he be sure it was the
right man who was with her?

Indecisively, he took up his position at the inner door, and before he could do anything, May’s voice rose in alarm.

‘Adam, darling, you know I wouldn’t kiss and tell. That inspector’s been having you on.’

Satisfied that he’d found his prey, McGillivray held up a cautionary finger to the constable. ‘Any minute now,’ he mouthed.

The man’s voice was droning on, but the woman’s scream galvanised the inspector into action. He flung the door open and rushed across the room to pull Adam Valentine’s hands
away from her throat, while Derek Paul raced forward to prevent him escaping.

The minister put up no fight, however. He slumped down on the settee and covered his face with his hands. ‘Oh, God! Oh, God!’ he moaned.

McGillivray felt no pity, no exultation, only a great relief that he’d got there in time. ‘Let the other two in,’ he instructed Derek Paul, then, looking over at the woman who
was cowering against the wall, her face a red-blotched grey, her hands at her neck, he asked, ‘Are you all right?’

She nodded, and swallowed painfully. ‘If you’d been any later . . .’ Her voice was low and rasping.

‘Yes,’ he said, curtly. ‘You were lucky.’

When Douglas Pettigrew appeared from the back door with John Black, he made a bee-line towards his former lover. ‘You got what was coming to you,’ he said, vindictively. Then,
casting a glance at the pathetic creature on the settee, he laughed mirthlessly and added, ‘He’s not so bloody marvellous now, is he?’

After McGillivray made the formal arrest, Adam Valentine remained silent and motionless until John Black stepped forward, then he stood up. ‘I’m ready to go with you,
Sergeant.’

Turning to face the inspector, he said, ‘Will you please make sure someone looks after my wife? This will be a dreadful shock to her, and I’m deeply ashamed. I don’t know what
possessed me to get entangled with . . .’ His voice tailed away.

McGillivray knew. He knew only too well. ‘My sergeant’s with your wife meantime, and I’ll make sure she’s not left alone tonight.’

‘Thank you.’ The minister walked out behind John Black, with Derek Paul bringing up the rear.

Addressing Douglas Pettigrew, the inspector said, ‘Will you be stopping here?’

‘Not me! I’ve learned my lesson.’ The young man hastily followed the others out.

Left alone with the still-recovering woman, McGillivray said, ‘I hope you’ve learned your lesson, too, Mrs White. You were playing with fire and you were bloody nearly burned to a
cinder.’

‘I know.’ It was a hoarse whisper. I thought it was great, leading all those men on, and making them unfaithful to their wives, but . . .’

‘That gave you a thrill, did it?’ McGillivray’s sarcasm was all the greater because he knew how close he’d come to being another of her trophies.

‘Yes, at the time. I suppose I was trying to pay Gilbert back for being away so much, but I was worse than a prostitute.’

‘I’m glad you’re seeing sense at last.’

‘I’ll never do it again. Oh! Gilbert won’t have to know about . . . everything, will he?’ Her eyes were less wild, and she looked forlorn and miserable.

McGillivray hardened his heart. ‘He’ll have to know, Mrs White.’ Then he realised, with a sense of remorse, that she’d be quite alone when he left, and after what
she’d been through . . . ‘Have you a friend you could go to? Or what about your parents?’

Her eyes darkened. ‘The women are all jealous, and Mum and Dad have hardly spoken to me since Sydney Pettigrew went and had that row with them.’

‘You shouldn’t be on your own, not tonight.’

After a moment’s thought, she said, ‘Mrs Gray next door might take me in. She never treats me like dirt, the way some of the other women do, and she can be very kind.’

The inspector smiled. ‘She’s quite a character, your Mrs Gray. She’s the one who tipped me off about Adam Valentine, though I thought she was blethering at first, and
didn’t take her seriously.’

‘I’ve nobody else till Gilbert gets home in about three weeks. He said he’d be back for Christmas.’

McGillivray, suddenly compassionate, thought that she likely wouldn’t have her husband either when he learned what had been going on during his absences. Poor bitch! ‘Get whatever
you’ll need for an overnight stay, and I’ll take you next door.’

When Mrs Gray came to her door, he said, ‘Can Mrs White stay here tonight, please?’

‘She’s very welcome. Just go through, May.’ The old woman hobbled to the side to let the trembling young woman past, then she looked at the inspector. ‘What’s
up?’

‘I’ve arrested Valentine, but not before he attempted to strangle Mrs White. She’s been through a terrible experience, so go easy on her.’

‘You can trust me, Inspector. I’ve never wished her any ill, for she’s her own worst enemy. I’ll look after her as long as she needs me.’

‘Thank you very much.’ McGillivray held out his hand. ‘Goodbye, Mrs Gray. I won’t be seeing you again, but I’ve really enjoyed our little chats.’

‘Me too.’ She grinned, toothlessly.

When he reached the waiting car, he sat in front with John Black. Behind them, Derek Paul and Douglas Pettigrew were on each side of the minister, whose bowed head lifted at McGillivray’s
entrance.

‘Janet Souter was threatening to tell my wife about my . . . adultery, Inspector. She’d seen me going up the Lane very early one morning, and guessed where I’d been.’

‘She was good at that,’ the youth muttered.

‘She accused me last Tuesday, when she called me in to give me a jar of jam. She wouldn’t listen to reason, so I went back on the Wednesday night to try to persuade her to change her
mind, but it was useless. She said it wouldn’t be long before the whole place knew about my infidelity, and taunted me so much I lost my head completely.’

‘You must have gone there with the intention of murdering her, though,’ McGillivray pointed out. ‘You’d the syringe and insulin with you. Where did you obtain
them?’

Adam Valentine sighed. ‘I took them from a house where an old lady, a diabetic, had just died, and it was quite innocent on my part. Her daughter had just received a fresh supply of
insulin, and I told her I’d return it to the chemist, to save her the bother. That was on the Monday night, but my mind was so occupied on the Tuesday with the worry of what Miss Souter meant
to do, that I forgot all about it. I was practically out of my mind with fear, remorse . . . self-pity.’

‘Carry on,’ murmured McGillivray.

‘It was when I was arguing with her on the Wednesday night that it came to me I had the means of silencing her in my pocket. I didn’t really intend to use them, but . . . a desperate
man takes desperate measures.’

‘How did you know insulin would kill her?’

The minister gave a dry laugh. ‘I studied medicine for a time, before I went in for the ministry.’ He was silent for a moment, then he said, ‘I know there’s no excuse for
what I did, but it was so that Muriel wouldn’t be hurt by hearing about what I’d done.’

Callum McGillivray couldn’t help snorting coldly. ‘She’s going to be far more hurt at what you did tonight in addition to what you did before.’

Valentine’s head went down again, and McGillivray turned to John Black. ‘Right, let’s get going, but take me to the manse before you go back to the station.’

As the sergeant switched on the engine, Valentine said, ‘Will you please tell my wife how much I regret . . . everything?’

‘I’ll pass on your message, and I’ll see that she’s well cared for.’

‘Thank you.’ Adam Valentine leaned back.

David Moore and Mrs Valentine were still in the kitchen when the DCI went in. ‘We’ve arrested him,’ he told her, quietly. ‘And we got there in time to save Mrs
White.’

‘Thank God!’ Her hands fidgeted for a moment. ‘Did he say anything?’

‘He told me exactly what had happened, and he wants you to know that he regrets everything he did to hurt you.’

‘It wasn’t my Adam,’ her voice was low and sad. ‘That woman changed him completely.’

‘She could put a spell on a man,’ McGillivray agreed. He experienced an unexpected surge of pity for the minister, who had stood no chance against May White’s wiles, and who
had sacrificed his career, his marriage and his freedom because of her.

‘Inspector,’ Moore said, eagerly. ‘I’ve told Mrs Valentine about her . . . about Mrs Wakeford, do you think . . . ?’

Looking at the miserable, defenceless woman, McGillivray changed his mind about not interfering. ‘Pack some things, Mrs Valentine, and we’ll take you up there, but I’d better
go in and talk to her first.’

‘I understand, and thank you.’ She hurried out.

‘What have I let myself in for?’ he groaned, then, brisk once more, ‘Bring the Vauxhall down here, Sergeant.’

When Mabel Wakeford answered his knock, the inspector first apologised for calling so late, then asked, ‘May I come in?’

In the kitchen, she waited for him to state his reason for being there, finally prompting him. ‘Yes?’

‘Have you ever wondered what became of the child you gave away all those years ago?’

She was taken somewhat by surprise, but answered readily enough. ‘Very often. If I hadn’t agreed to the adoption, I wouldn’t be on my own now. I do have an old aunt and uncle
in Thornkirk, but it’s not the same.’ She stopped, puzzled.

‘I thought you might like to know that we’ve traced her.’

‘Her? A girl?’ Her eyes lit up. ‘Can you tell me who she is and where she lives?’ There was a breathless expectancy in her voice.

He could think of no way to break it to her gently. ‘It’s Mrs Valentine.’

‘The minister’s wife? Oh, I couldn’t wish for a better daughter . . . Does she know about me?’

He smiled. ‘Yes, and she’s as delighted as you are.’

Mabel stood up, full of excitement. ‘I’ll go to her this very minute.’