The Wives, page 20
It was almost amusing to see how quickly the three men agreed to leave, Ralph not even trying to hide his relief, the other two making a fairly poor stab at it.
Natasha waited till they’d left before retaking her seat with a grunt. ‘Well now, with them out of the way, let’s get down to it, eh?’ She leaned back in the seat so she could look at her friends, one after the other, her eyes drifting over each, head to toe and back. ‘Right, tell me then, which of you bitches killed Daniel?’
49
MICHELE
Michele heard both Barbara and Tracy Ann gasp from shock. Her own reaction might have been similar if she hadn’t noticed that Natasha’s grief was sorely lacking. If Don had died, Michele would be a devastated mess. She wouldn’t be offering tea and coffee, dressed to kill in an outfit that might have been black but was screaming its sexy credentials all the same.
Interesting that Natasha was assuming it was one of them who’d killed Daniel. Not one of the men. Was she working under the assumption that poison was a woman’s tool? A silly one given that she, of all people, must be only too aware of the infamous doctor, Harold Shipman, who’d poisoned so many of his patients.
‘Don thought it was me,’ she said, drawing three pairs of startled eyes towards her. She held her hands up in surrender. ‘It wasn’t, honest.’
‘Then why did he think it was?’
Michele dropped her hands to the sofa, fingers caressing the soft plush of the fabric. ‘We got separated at the market in Kigomasha. When he found me, I was putting something into my bag. He said I looked,’ she curled her forefingers in the air, ‘“furtive”. So when Daniel died, he assumed I’d bought something dodgy.’
‘But you hadn’t?’ Barbara said.
Michele turned to glare at her. ‘Of course I hadn’t! What I had bought was a fake Rolex. I was going to give it to him for our anniversary next month.’
‘But why did he think you’d have wanted to kill Daniel?’ Tracy Ann asked.
Michele heard the emphasis on the you’d and mentally patted herself on the back. She’d been right. Whatever had been between Tracy Ann and Daniel hadn’t ended well.
‘Yes, I’d like to know the answer to that too.’ Natasha leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her gaze intent. ‘Just why would Don leap to such a conclusion?’
‘I don’t like to speak ill of the dead—’
‘But you’re going to?’ Natasha sniffed loudly and sat back, folding her arms across her chest.
‘You want to know why Don would leap to such a conclusion?’ Michele waited till Natasha gave a jerky nod before continuing. ‘Right, I’ll tell you. Because your precious Daniel was a manipulative, conniving little shit. That’s why!’ It felt good to get the words out. Her one regret was, she hadn’t said them to him. Hadn’t faced the bastard. She looked at the expressions on her friends’ faces. Only Barbara looked horrified. Both Natasha and Tracy Ann looked as if what she’d said was nothing new. ‘Three months ago, Don mentioned to Daniel that his business wasn’t going too well. In fact, as I learned afterwards, Don was up to his eyeballs in debt. A few days later, Daniel mentioned an investment opportunity. It was a sure thing, he said. You know the way he is… was… so damn convincing. If Don had mentioned it to me, I’d have been suspicious. I had already come to the conclusion that Daniel was a man for whom charity began and ended in his colossal ego. But Don wanted to sort everything out without worrying me so he borrowed money and went for it.’ Michele huffed a sigh. ‘And it was good. He made a killing.’
‘Sounds like Daniel did a good thing,’ Barbara said.
‘A good thing.’ Michele wagged her head side to side. ‘No, I was right. Daniel had a hidden agenda. A few weeks later when they met up again, and Don thanked him for the advice, Daniel pretended to look shocked. He insisted he’d only mentioned it as part of a conversation and hadn’t expected Don to use the knowledge. He said he was appalled to have been taken advantage of and stormed off.’ Michele smiled. ‘Honestly, you have to hand it to Daniel, he had it down to a fine art. The following morning, he rang Don, apologised for leaving so abruptly, then let the great, big, snarling cat out of the bag. That the information Don had used wasn’t public knowledge. Daniel insisted he’d told him, but of course he hadn’t.’
‘Insider trading,’ Tracy Ann said. ‘That’s illegal, isn’t it?’
Michele glared at her. ‘Of course it’s bloody illegal. A criminal offence. Don could go to prison. His accountancy body would cut him off. He’d be ruined.’
Barbara frowned as she tried to follow the story. ‘But didn’t Don look into it before investing?’
‘That’s exactly what I said when I heard,’ Michele said, ‘but it seems that Daniel had stressed the need for speed to capitalise on it, so as soon as Don got the money, he bought the shares.’
‘Okay,’ Barbara said, ‘but couldn’t he have sold them again when he found out?’
‘It was too late. Daniel was right about one thing. Speed was essential. The following week, the share price jumped after the company announced a major breakthrough. Don thought he’d been lucky, sold the shares and paid off our debts.’
‘But Daniel told him the truth,’ Natasha guessed.
‘Yes. He insisted he’d told Don that the company was expected to make an announcement the following week, but he hadn’t.’ Michele looked around the room. ‘You all know my husband. He’s as straight as they come and would never have got involved in anything illegal. He was horrified. And then, when he was still trying to take it all in and decide what to do, Daniel stuck the knife in. He asked Don to find him a way to hide a large amount of money from the tax man. Of course, Don said he couldn’t do that. He told him that tax evasion, which is what Daniel was looking for, was a criminal offence and they could face charges if they were caught. That was when the lovely Daniel showed his true colours. He said if Don didn’t help him with the tax evasion, that he’d have no choice but to report him for insider trading.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Natasha said. ‘Wouldn’t Daniel have gone to prison for it too?’
Michele’s laugh was high-pitched and slightly maniacal. It startled her as much as her friends. ‘Sorry,’ she said running a shaking hand through her hair. ‘I’ve been holding it together for so long. It’s funny to be falling apart when it seems like it might be over.’ Natasha was waiting for an answer. It was time, it appeared, to spell it out for her. ‘No, Daniel wouldn’t have gone to prison because your devious, cunning, bastard late husband hadn’t invested, had he?’ Her laugh this time was a sad, weary sound. ‘Poor Don, he’s such a fool really; he’d no chance against an expert like Daniel.’
‘So Don agreed to do what Daniel wanted?’ Barbara and Tracy Ann asked at the same time. Neither laughed, each sitting forward as if enthralled by what they were hearing.
‘When Don finally told me what was going on, we looked at the options, but there didn’t seem to be any that didn’t involve the authorities.’ She smiled at Natasha. ‘So perhaps now you can understand why Don thought I might have had something to do with Daniel’s death.’ The smile faded and an ugly expression crossed her face. ‘To be honest, I’d have killed him in a heartbeat if I thought I could get away with it.’
She would have done. She’d intended to. Don’s suspicions were correct. He’d just chosen the wrong small package. Not the one she’d bought in the market. The one hidden in the lining of her toilet bag. Her initial plan was to crush a few of her sleeping tablets, add the mixture to some food, then wait until Daniel became drowsy and push him overboard. But she guessed it sounded easier than it would be in reality. So instead, using money she’d got from the sale of every decent piece of jewellery she owned, she bought a capsule of cyanide on the dark web.
She’d thought it through, had planned to give it to him the last morning they were on the ship. A final goodbye drink that would be more final than he’d anticipate. In the chaos of disembarking, she hoped it would be more difficult to get help when he collapsed. And far too late for any antidote to be given, even if the ship’s doctor could have guessed the cause of Daniel’s illness. By the time a post-mortem could be arranged, she was assured that any traces of cyanide would be gone. Not that it mattered. Who’d have suspected her? Now of course, it didn’t matter.
She met Natasha’s gaze calmly. ‘So, I didn’t kill him, but I’m sure as hell not sorry he’s gone.’ Michele tilted her head. ‘I don’t think I’m the only one either, am I?’
But it wasn’t Natasha who answered.
‘No, you aren’t,’ Tracy Ann said. ‘I’m delighted the bastard has met with a sticky end. And I’m glad it was a shitty, horrible death too. It was exactly what he deserved!’
50
NATASHA
It was so unexpected that for a moment, there was silence. Then everyone spoke together, high-pitched, strident words that mingled together and made no sense.
It was the doorbell that silenced them, heads turning, mouths open, eyes wide.
Natasha stood shakily. There wasn’t time to take in all she’d heard. Wasn’t time to hear if Tracy Ann was going to add more drama to the mix. ‘That might be the security officer. If it is, leave as quickly as you can, and for goodness’ sake, say nothing.’ She looked from one of her friends to the other. ‘I mean it, say absolutely nothing. If she should ask, we’re best friends and our husbands got on well. Everything was rosy in our garden. Okay?’ She wanted some acknowledgement, almost snarling, ‘Okay?’
Barbara looked shaken. Whether it was by what Michele had told them, or by Tracy Ann’s gleefully vicious statement, wasn’t clear, but looking at her, Natasha knew she was the weakest link. As the doorbell chimed again, she crossed and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘It’ll be fine, just relax, remember what I said. We were all happy with each other. Okay?’
‘Yes, yes, okay.’
‘Okay?’ Natasha waited until Michele and Tracy Ann gave jerky nods of agreement before going to answer the door. ‘It might only be Emilio wanting to get me lunch or something.’ She hoped it would be. It would be better to finish this conversation before talking to the security officer. She took a deep breath to steady herself before pasting a neutral expression on her face and pulling the door open.
The first thing that struck her when she saw the figure framed by the doorway was that she’d been wrong. The white uniforms worn by the crew weren’t in the slightest bit sexy. Close up, the startling polyester sheen and the sharp creases struck her as being cold, unfriendly, unnatural. It suited the rigidly unsmiling face of the woman who wore it.
‘Mrs Vickery-Orme?’
‘Yes. You must be the Ship Security Officer.’
‘Yes, Allison Valentine. May I come in?’
Natasha guessed it wasn’t really a question. ‘Please,’ she said, and stood back. Expecting the officer to wait in the small hallway, Natasha was taken aback when instead she walked straight into the lounge. She found herself almost trotting behind to keep up with the officer’s long strides, then almost walking into her when she stopped abruptly.
The arrival of the grim-faced security officer caused the three seated women to jump to their feet. There was such a collective look of guilt on their faces that Natasha raised her eyes to the ceiling. It was almost as if guilty had been carved on each of their foreheads. ‘My friends came to offer their condolences,’ she said. ‘They were just leaving.’
Valentine’s eyes were steady and searching. ‘You were travelling together?’
‘Yes,’ Natasha said. ‘We’ve been friends for years. And our husbands are too. Friendly, I mean. We’re all friendly together.’ Shut up. Stop babbling. Take a breath. Get your brain in gear.
‘I’ll need to speak to each of you,’ Valentine said, looking deliberately from one to the other. ‘And your husbands.’
Natasha saw the look of panic on her friends’ faces. No matter how innocent they might be, Valentine’s whole demeanour was intimidating. If she spoke to each of the women on their own, goodness knows what they’d say. Making a quick decision, she turned to the officer with a smile. ‘Would it be easier if they stayed? You could speak to us all together.’ She turned back to her friends and, hidden from Valentine, gave them a wink. ‘You wouldn’t mind staying, would you?’
‘It would make initial fact gathering easier,’ Valentine said as one after the other, the women shook their heads.
‘Right,’ Natasha said. ‘That’s settled then.’ As if they’d all agreed to a damn party. She waved her friends back into their seats. ‘I think we could all do with some coffee.’ Actually, she could do with a drink, and from the expression on her friends’ faces, they could too.
‘Coffee would be good,’ Valentine said, taking a seat on the empty sofa. ‘While we’re waiting for it, perhaps I could ask you for your names?’ She tapped the screen of the iPad she was carrying, looked at it intently for a moment, then nodded. ‘If you wouldn’t mind?’ Her eyes fixed on Tracy Ann.
‘No, yes, of course.’ Tracy Ann stumbled and smiled. ‘I’m Tracy Ann Robinson. My husband is Blake.’
Valentine tapped her screen, then looked at Michele.
‘Michele Turner. My husband is Don Turner.’
‘Thank you. And finally…’ Valentine looked to Barbara.
‘Barbara Gittens. My husband’s name is Ralph.’
‘Thank you.’ Valentine tapped the screen a few more times. ‘Right, so that’s the full cast identified.’
Natasha, in the process of crossing with a full cup of coffee in each hand, stopped and tottered a little when she heard these words. It was as if they were all actors in some ghastly play. Coffee had lapped over the edge of one of the cups and puddled in the saucer. ‘Still don’t have my sea legs,’ she excused herself. Handing the unspilt coffee to Valentine, she returned to the drinks station. How much longer could she put off hearing what the security officer had to say? She was earlier than Natasha had expected. She guessed strings had been pulled to have the post-mortem done as quickly as possible.
Minutes later, sitting with her untouched coffee on the table in front of her, she sat back, her hands resting on her knees. There was something about the security officer’s expression which said she’d need to hold it together. The waiting wasn’t helping, but she could bring that to a quick end. ‘I assume the post-mortem has been done.’
If the security officer was surprised at the blunt question, she didn’t show it. ‘Yes, it has. I had a call from the doctor in charge of the private clinic where it was performed.’ She hesitated, looking from Natasha to her friends. ‘Toxicology reports haven’t come back as yet, however the clinic has reached a conclusion based on their extensive knowledge of the subject.’
The subject? Natasha frowned. ‘Do you mean my husband? How do they know anything about him?’
It had been Daniel’s idea to come to Zanzibar. What had Michele said… that Daniel didn’t do anything without an ulterior motive.
What else had he not told her?
51
NATASHA
Valentine looked puzzled. ‘Your husband?’ Then her frown cleared. ‘No, sorry, you’ve misunderstood.’ She held a hand up. ‘Wrong choice of word, forgive me; perhaps condition would make more sense. I was referring to your husband’s cause of death.’
Natasha held a hand to her forehead for a second, then reached for the coffee and took a few sips. Maybe caffeine would clear her head, get the grey cells working, because she was finding it hard to make sense of anything. ‘It was cholera after all, was it?’
Valentine shook her head. ‘That’s what they were expecting to find, but it wasn’t.’ She sipped the coffee, then put the cup back on the saucer. ‘What they did find were haemorrhages in the liver, oesophagus, stomach, and conjunctiva. They also discovered cerebral cortical oedema.’
‘What?’ Barbara looked at Natasha as if she would be able to translate.
She could. ‘Putting it simply, they’re saying that Daniel died from internal bleeding, and swelling on the brain.’
‘But it wasn’t anything contagious, was it?’ Tracy Ann asked. ‘We’re not in any danger, are we?’
‘Not everything is about you,’ Michele said sharply.
Tracy Ann glared at her. ‘And you’re not worried?’
Michele turned away from her and looked across the table to where the security officer was sitting quietly, observing them. ‘You said the clinic had extensive knowledge of whatever he died from, which I take to mean they know exactly what it was, so why don’t you tell us?’
The security officer glanced at Natasha as if asking for permission to disclose the information. ‘I think we would all like to know,’ she said.
‘Based on their extensive knowledge,’ Valentine said slowly, ‘the clinic has put the cause of death down to chelonitoxism.’
Natasha felt her friends’ eyes on her, waiting for her to clarify. ‘I’ve no idea what that is, I’m afraid.’
‘It’s a type of food poisoning. Rare in most parts of the world but unfortunately, although not common, has been seen several times in this region. Sea turtle meat.’ She said this last as if it explained everything.
Natasha wasn’t any wiser and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand; you’re saying Daniel ate sea turtle meat and it killed him?’
‘Contaminated sea turtle meat to be exact. There have been a number of cases over the years. A woman and her children died from ingesting it only a year ago. The locals are urged not to eat it, but it’s considered a delicacy and it’s hard to stop old customs.’
