Why Aren't They Screaming? (27 page)

There were staircases to right and left, their entrances
liberally surrounded by graffiti. She took the one to her left, climbed the stairs to the first floor, and was relieved to discover that number eleven was the first flat in the row. Some attempt had been made to brighten it up – a plant in a plastic container hung on a wallbracket over the dustbin, and there was a window-box full of red geraniums in front of the kitchen window. Loretta was beginning to feel excited; she rang the bell twice, then stood back and examined the flat next door. The windows were boarded up and planks had been nailed across the front door, presumably to discourage squatters. She thought she saw something moved behind the kitchen window of number eleven, then the front door opened a fraction.

‘Loretta?' It was Peggy's voice, but speaking in a whisper.

‘Yes, it's me.' She put her face close to the door. It opened just wide enough for her to step inside, while Peggy kept herself concealed behind it.

‘You came. You really came.' She sounded as if she could hardly believe it.

Loretta closed the front door and hugged Peggy briefly. To her dismay, the girl promptly burst into tears.

‘Come on,' Loretta said, leading her into the small sitting room she could see through an open door. ‘Everything's going to be all right.' She pushed Peggy gently on to a threadbare sofa over which someone had thrown a light blue Indian rug. The girl was wearing jeans and her usual pink sweatshirt, Loretta noticed. ‘It's all right, everything's going to be all right.' As she repeated the soothing phrase, she hoped sincerely that she was telling the truth. ‘Peggy – Peggy, listen to me. I know it's hard, but you've got to stop crying and listen to me. There. Is that better?' She sat holding one of Peggy's hands between her own, and the girl's sobs slowly subsided.

Suddenly Peggy sat up and looked at Loretta fiercely.

‘It wasn't me! It wasn't me! They said – on the telly – they said the police are after me and Mick. That's why I ran away, ‘cause I knew they'd say I did it. But it wasn't me!'

‘Peggy, you've got to tell them the truth, for your own sake. And for your daughter's.' Loretta spoke urgently, her eyes fixed on Peggy's tear-stained face. ‘I know he's your
husband, but you can't go on protecting him like this – you've got to think of your–'

‘What? What're you on about?' The anguish on Peggy's face had been replaced by blank incomprehension.

‘About Mick – about him killing Clara.'

‘It wasn't
him
that did it.' Peggy's voice was astonished, scornful.

‘It wasn't? But his fingerprints were in the house, the police know–'

‘Oh yeah, he was
there.
But that was
before.
She saw him off, Clara did, she didn't stand no nonsense from him. Christ, you don't think I'd of protected him?'

‘You mean – Mick didn't kill Clara?'

‘Course not!' Peggy stared at Loretta as though she'd taken leave of her senses.

‘Oh no! I've been such a fool – why did I even
think
he was telling the truth?' Loretta threw her hands up in despair at her own stupidity. ‘I'm sorry, Peggy, you're not going to believe this, but I even spoke to an American from the base – he said they hadn't anything to do with killing Clara and I – I fell for it! Listen, this is more complicated than I thought. How many of them were there? Did you see their faces? What actually happened?'

Peggy withdrew her hand from Loretta's and looked at her oddly.

‘He isn't American,' she said, ‘he couldn't be an MP if he was American, could he? He don't talk like an American, he's alllah-di-dah.'

‘You mean –
Colin?
Colin Kendall-Cole?'

‘Yeah, that's his name, I couldn't remember it exactly. That's why I run away, see, I knew they wouldn't believe me if I said it was him shot her.'

‘But why would Colin...?'

‘You don't believe me! You're just like all the rest! I thought you was better, like Clara – well, you can just fuck off out! Go on, out! Leave me alone!' Peggy was on her feet, cheeks flushed, hand pointing to the front door.

Loretta pushed her hair back from her face, swallowed, and held her ground.

‘I'm sorry, Peggy, of course I believe you. I thought I'd
worked it all out... I'm sorry I misunderstood. I came here because I wanted to help you and I still do – will you let me?'

For a moment it was touch and go, then Peggy sighed and sat down again.

‘I – I get upset,' she said. ‘I'm sorry. It's ‘cause I'm so scared.'

‘That's not surprising. Colin – well, it takes a bit of getting used to. D'you feel up to telling me about it?' Anxious as she was to hear Peggy's story, Loretta was determined not to rush her in case she lost her confidence again.

Peggy nodded, then paused. ‘I dunno how to start.'

‘Why not – why not tell me why Colin shot Clara?' The words seemed fantastic to Loretta; could the girl really be telling the truth?

‘It was ‘cause of the letter, see.' Peggy was sitting hunched forward, her hands clasped between her knees. ‘He was frightened she'd give the letter to a paper, like she said. He told her to give it to him and she wouldn't. I heard him walking round the room, he was going on about his career. Then I heard a noise like he was opening something and he shot her. I couldn't stop him!' she added, giving Loretta an imploring look.

‘No, I'm sure you ... But – didn't he – why didn't he shoot you?'

‘He couldn't see me, could he? Not behind the curtain.'

‘What curtain – you mean the one in front of the bay?' Loretta was confused. ‘Look, let's go back to the beginning. Why was Colin there?'

Peggy waited a moment, getting her thoughts in order.

‘You know that bit in the paper? The thing about the women at the peace camp and how they should go back to their husbands?'

Loretta nodded. ‘He wrote it, yes.'

‘She was so cross about that she rang the paper. Then she rang him. That was in the afternoon, before Mick came. She said she had to see him – maybe she told him about the letter. I don't think so. Anyway, then Mick turned up.' She made a face. ‘She let him come in, Mick that is, and she had a chat with him. She said I was staying there for a bit, and how she'd have the police on to him double-quick if he kept
hanging around. He shouted a bit, but in the end he took himself off. He knew when he was beat!' She smiled at the memory. ‘So then we had something to eat, and we had some wine. Clara said this bloke was coming, and she was going to stop him making a fuss about the camp. She was all sort of...
pleased
with herself.

‘Then we heard him knock. Quick, says Clara, you go behind the curtains. I'm going to enjoy this, and you will as well. So I sat there like, quiet as a mouse. They both come in, and Clara offers him a drink, but he says no, he can't stay long. They was ever so polite, he says how's your husband and she says how's your wife. So they're sitting there and all of a sudden Clara says,
It's got to stop,
just like that. She really lays into him, says she's had enough of him going on about the peace camp and family life and all that. You're a bloody hypocrite, she says. He says he's got a job to do, and he's not saying the women are wicked, just mis – misguided.'

Peggy stopped for a second.

‘And then?' Loretta prompted gently.

‘Then she said again,
It's got to stop.'
For the second time, Peggy surprised Loretta by mimicking Clara's voice. ‘He just laughed at her, he said things don't happen like that. The peace camp was a nuisance, and he's going to get rid of it. Oh no you're not, Clara said. If you don't stop it, I'm going to the papers with this!' From the way Peggy reported the exchange, Loretta could easily imagine the triumph in Clara's voice.

‘This is where the letter comes in, right?'

‘Right. He says nothing for a while till he's read it. Then – whoosh! He does his nut. Ranting and raving, swearing and threatening I don't know what. Then he calms down a bit. What's to stop me tearing it up, he says. Don't you think I've got a copy, she says, and anyway, if I go to the papers it won't matter whether I've got the letter. That's just – the icing on the cake. Now, why don't we sit down and talk about this like adults? So they–'

‘You mean you don't know what was in the letter?' Loretta could barely conceal her disappointment.

‘Oh yeah, I've got it, see? The copy, I mean. It was silly, really, it was only on the mantelpiece, D'you want to see it?'

Peggy started to get up; Loretta put out a hand to restrain her.

‘Wait a minute. Just tell me the gist for the time being.'

‘Oh, right.' Peggy sat down again. ‘Well, it was old, this letter. It was from some girl Clara was at college with, her and this Colin bloke. Somewhere in Oxford, I think it was. It was all about how Colin'd got her into trouble and she was leaving college because he'd paid to have it taken away. Something like that. Christ, he was upset. This could ruin me, he kept saying. You kept quiet all these years – and now you're gonna ruin me. I kept quiet for her, not you, Clara says, and now she's dead. But Connie's a Catholic, he said – that must be his wife?'

‘I think so,' Loretta agreed.

‘And my career, he said, it'll be the end of it. He kept talking about that bloke who knocked up his secretary, you know the one. The one who had to resign.'

‘But why ...?' Loretta was doing rapid calculations. She had not been able to see, at first, why this ancient story about an abortion would be so damaging to Colin Kendall-Cole. But Colin and Clara must have been at Oxford a long time before the 1967 Abortion Act. The revelation of his complicity in a backstreet abortion was a scandal that an ambitious politician, particularly one who was playing the family card where the peace women were concerned, would find hard to survive. Not to mention the consequences for his marriage if his wife was, as it appeared, a Roman Catholic.

‘And that's when you heard him walking round the room?'

‘Yes. I thought he was looking for the letter, I heard him open something. Then he says – sorry, Clara, but I have to do this – and bang. Two bangs. I didn't know it was a gun at first. I heard her sort of sigh, and a noise like she fell. I was so scared then, I couldn't move.'

Loretta leaned forward and put her hand on Peggy's shoulder. The girl sighed heavily.

‘Shall I – would you like some tea?' she asked Loretta, clearly needing a break.

‘I'll make it,' Loretta said.

She got up, went into the small kitchen, and a few minutes later brought back two cups of tea.

‘Is that all right?' she asked, watching as Peggy sipped. ‘Or would you like more sugar?'

‘No thanks. Shall I tell you the rest?'

‘Please.'

‘It all happened very fast. After a bit I heard him go out of the room, and his feet going upstairs. I thought, you better get out, girl, get away from here as fast as you can. So I –'

‘Just a minute, Peggy. Why didn't you – why didn't you hide till he'd gone and then call the police?'

‘What, when he's a bloody MP? And I've got –' She stopped abruptly and Loretta remembered Peggy's criminal record.

‘Was it because you ... you've been in trouble?' she asked hesitantly.

‘What d'you mean? Did Clara tell you that?' Peggy was suddenly belligerent. ‘She shouldn't have! She promised...'

Loretta was about to explain the information had come from Chief Inspector Bailey, then thought better of it.

‘Look, Peggy, it doesn't matter, whatever you've done. It's in the past, it's your business. I'm just trying to understand ... so I can help you.'

‘OK, Miss Know-it-all! I'm a shoplifter, right? A thief! The only time the Old Bill's ever been interested in me was when they was arresting me! They didn't care that he'd buggered off and left me with a sick kid and no housekeeping. He used to hit me with his belt till I was black and blue – domestic dispute, they said. So when Clara's lying there dead and the only people in the house's me and a posh bloke like him, who're they gonna believe?' She stared angrily at Loretta.

It was precisely the question that was worrying Loretta. But she decided to put off thinking about it until she'd heard the end of the story.

‘I keep telling you, Peggy, I'm on your side – I'll think of something. Just tell me what happened next.'

‘OK. Sorry. Sharon left me some Valium but I didn't want to take them.'

‘You don't need Valium,' Loretta said firmly. ‘Who's Sharon?'

‘Me best mate. We was at school together. She works up a shop in Mare Street. She said I could stay here, she's just
moved here. It took me a while to find her, I didn't have her new address and I remembered it a bit wrong. Where was I?'

‘Behind the curtain.'

‘Oh yeah. I could hear him upstairs, I dunno what he was doing but it made a lot of noise. I thought, this is me chance. I dunno how I managed it, I was nearly wetting meself with fright. Soon as I came out, I could see she was dead, I couldn't do nothing for her. I got the letter off the mantelpiece and I went to the door, on tiptoe, like. I ran across the hall into that bathroom, I didn't wanna go in the garden in case he looked out and seen me. Then I heard him come downstairs and I was hoping he'd go out the front door but he didn't. I was so scared, not knowing what he was up to, I dashed into that store place that's off the bathroom. It's got all the garden stuff in it – deckchairs and spades and things. I never went in there before, but it's got a door into the garden. Funny sort of house, it is. I got it open ever so quiet, and then I hid in the trees at the side of the garden. I got down near the gate and I saw a car, a posh one like you see on telly. I listened for a bit, but I couldn't hear nothing from the house. So I dashed up the lane to the road, and I didn't know where to go. Then I remembered the peace camp. I knew they'd help me. I got down on me hands and knees and went past the kitchen window, then I started running. I hid behind hedges and trees when I got tired. One time I heard a police car go by. Then it came back again and I guessed they'd been at the camp, looking for me. So I knew it was safe to go there then. I had to do something, all me stuff was back at the house. I had the clothes I stood up in and twenty-seven pence in me jeans pocket.'