A finer end - Deborah Crombie [93]
But there must have been others who had felt as he did about Garnet—there must have been someone who had wanted her dead. And if he could find out who, he might have a hope of saving himself.
Kincaid and Gemma pulled into Jack’s drive just as he was getting out of his Volvo. They found Faith waiting for them in the kitchen, hands on her hips, furious spots of color on her cheeks.
“Something smells good.” Jack wrinkled his nose in appreciation. “We haven’t had a proper meal in—”
Turning on Kincaid, Faith spat, “How could you? You told Nick he should talk to the police, that it would be all right! So he did, and now they think he’s a murderer.”
“Faith, I told him it was the best course, and I still think that’s true. They’ve got Nick’s prints in the house and his bike tracks in the yard. He’d only make things worse for himself by lying.”
“But you’re a policeman. Can’t you tell Greely it’s not true, that Nick wouldn’t—”
“I don’t have any jurisdiction here. I can offer the Inspector my opinion, but I can’t tell him how to run his case.” Kincaid held up his hand before she could interrupt again. “I will tell you that I don’t think he’s got any solid evidence, so right now all he can do is try to get a response from Nick.”
“He thinks I helped. Did you know that?”
“Faith—”
“He said I needed legal advice.”
“Greely came here?”
Faith nodded.
“He interviewed you with no one else present?”
“There was a policewoman with him.”
Kincaid hesitated. It was a sticky situation, as Faith was legally an adult, but Greely could have found a better way to handle it. “If he comes again, tell him that you will only talk to him if Jack, or one of us, is present. If he won’t agree to that, tell him you insist on legal representation. That means he can’t talk to you without your lawyer present. Got that?”
“But I don’t have a lawyer!”
Kincaid turned to Jack. “Is there someone you can call?”
“An old school friend. She’s one of the best solicitors in the county.”
“Why don’t you do that, just alert her to the situation.”
As Jack went to make his phone call, Gemma guided Faith to the pot simmering on the cooker, and in a moment had the girl detailing the ingredients.
Crisis defused temporarily, Kincaid thought with relief, but what sort of idiotic thing had he just done? He had known even as he offered his support that he was placing himself in a precariously biased position. But something about this girl seemed to bring everyone’s protective instincts to the fore. Except DCI Greely’s, it seemed.
The doorbell rang. The murmur of Jack’s voice came from the next room, so Kincaid went to the door, girding himself to do discreet battle with DCI Greely.
But it was a man he hadn’t seen before, of middle age, dressed in cardigan and tweeds, with a rather unkempt mane of gray hair.
“Jack? Oh, sorry. Is Jack in?”
“I’m his cousin, Duncan Kincaid. Jack’s on the phone just now, but if you’ll come in, he’ll be free in a moment.”
“Simon Fitzstephen.”
Kincaid shook his hand with genuine pleasure. “Jack speaks very highly of you,” he said as he took Fitzstephen into the kitchen.
Faith looked up from her cooking and smiled. “Simon! I’ve made some soup, if you can stay for a meal.”
“Yes, I’d like that,” Fitzstephen said, pecking her cheek, then he greeted Gemma as Kincaid introduced her. “I’ve got some news for you all, when Jack’s free. Is Nick coming?”
“He hasn’t rung.” There was a quaver in Faith’s voice.
“The police have been questioning Nick,” Kincaid told Fitzstephen.
Fitzstephen glanced at Faith. “About Garnet?”
“I’m afraid so,” Kincaid replied. “But they released him this afternoon. Not enough evidence to bring a charge.”
“Simon! I thought I heard your voice. Good to see you.” Jack searched his friend’s face. “Are you all right?”
“A bit of company wouldn’t come amiss.” Fitzstephen’s smile seemed strained. “Faith’s asked me to stay for a meal. But that’s not the main reason I came. I’ve something to tell you. I wanted us all here, but I suppose we won’t wait for Nick, as we’ve no way to reach him. And Garnet—” He shook his