Believing the Lie - Elizabeth George [192]
“Nicholas!” Valerie rose from the sofa. “Stop this at once.”
“Oh, you’re part of it, are you?” He sneered at her. “I would’ve thought you— ”
“Not part of it. All of it,” Valerie said. “Are you listening to me? I’m all of it.”
That brought him to silence. Manette felt the shock of her mother’s words, like a ball of ice forming within her stomach. But confusion replaced shock soon enough. It was easier to be confused by the declaration than it was to follow it to its logical conclusion.
“Valerie,” her husband said quietly. “This isn’t necessary.”
“I’m afraid it is at this point.” She said to Nicholas, “The police are here because of me. Your father fetched them at my request. It was not his idea. Do you understand? He went to London. He did the legwork because he knows someone at New Scotland Yard. But it was no more his idea than”— she gestured to Manette and Freddie, still holding each other’s hand on the sofa— “than it was your sister’s. Or Mignon’s. Or anyone else’s. I wanted this, Nicholas. No one else.”
Nicholas looked like a man who’d taken a mortal blow. He finally said, “My own bloody mother. Did you actually think… You thought…?”
“It’s not quite what you’re concluding,” she said.
“That I might… that I could have…” Then he hit his fist on the mantelpiece. Manette winced at the force he used. “I’d kill Ian? That’s what you think? That I was capable of murder? What’s the matter with you?”
“Nick. Enough.” Bernard had spoken. “If nothing else, you’ve a history of— ”
“I goddamn know my history. I lived it. You bloody well don’t need to recite it for me. But unless I spent a decade or two of my history in some sort of fugue, I don’t recall ever lifting a hand against anyone.”
“No one,” Valerie said, “lifted a hand against Ian, either. That’s not how he died.”
“Then what the hell— ”
“Valerie,” Bernard said. “This will make things worse.”
“They can’t get worse,” Nicholas said. “Unless there’s another reason Mother wanted Scotland Yard up here. Want me to think that, do you? Are they investigating Manette? What about Mignon? What about Fred? Or has he just continued running to do Manette’s bidding as usual?”
Manette said, “Don’t you dare take this out on Freddie. And yes the detective has been to see us. And the first we knew there was a detective was when we had a Scotland Yard ID shoved under our noses.”
“Well at least you got that much,” he said. And to his mother, “Have you any idea— any bloody idea at all— ”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry. But there are things beyond your hurt— ”
“Like what?” he shouted. And then the pieces seemed to fall into place. “Is this about the family business? Who gets what. Who runs what. Who has the power. And when and how.”
“Nicholas, please. There are other things— ”
“D’you think I care about any of that? D’you think I want it? D’you think that’s why I’m here, back at home? I don’t give a toss who runs the business. Give it to Manette. Give it to Freddie. Give it to someone off the street. Do you have any idea what this has done to Alatea, having someone actually come into our home, someone prowling round pretending to be… This… this investigator of yours has lied to us from the first, Mother. Do you understand that? She’s come to the house, she’s told a stupid tale about why she’s here, she’s frightened Allie, who now, apparently, thinks… Oh God, I don’t know what she thinks, but she’s in a state and if she thinks I’m using… Don’t you see what you’ve done? My own wife… If she walks out on me…”
“She?” Bernard spoke. “‘She’s come to the house’? Nick, what are you talking about?”
“What the hell do you think I’m talking about? Your sodding Scotland Yard investigator.”
“It’s a man,” Valerie said. “Nicholas, it’s a man, not a woman. It’s a man …We know nothing about— ”
“Oh too right,