Doctor Who_ The Banquo Legacy - Andy Lane [56]
She continued to regard me steadily, and I could not tell her that the glass in my spectacles was clear; that my eyesight was perfect; that it was all an attempt to seem erudite, wise. I looked away. ‘I think killing Richard could have been quite easy for a sane man,’ I said. Odd that I should feign a disability, albeit minor, while I did my best to disguise the slight limp of which probably only I was aware in any case.
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ said Susan. She was looking at Kreiner now, as if to gain approval for her concession. I felt ridiculous suddenly and removed my glasses. Susan took this for surprise at her words; perhaps it was. ‘I don’t mean that I condone it,’ she continued quickly, standing up and turning back towards the windows – her musing ground. ‘But… but I can sympathise with the murderer… in a way.’
Her hands twisted around the brandy glass and I was afraid she would spill the remains of her drink. Instinctively I stood up and took a few steps towards her.
‘But not with whoever stole the body.’ I tried to swing the conversation back to the area that worried me most.
‘Therefore,’ Kreiner said as he joined us at the window, ‘whoever stole the body was mad, and therefore cannot have been the murderer, who was sane. Is that your argument?’
Susan turned to face me again, to see my answer.
‘In a nutshell,’ I confirmed.
She smiled. ‘Now you are talking rubbish.’
‘It seems sane enough to me,’ I joked.
‘Then you must be mad.’ Kreiner responded at once. It was a joke, but even so I felt the blood freeze in my face… But he went on: ‘The body was stolen by the murderer. For a reason.’
‘What reason?’
‘Well, I don’t know.’ There was more than a hint of exasperation in his voice, as if this whole debate were merely some side issue unconnected with the events of real importance. ‘Suppose the body had a clue on it. A clue to the murderer’s identity.’
‘A good point,’ I conceded.
‘Thank you.’
‘But why not just remove the clue?’ I asked him. ‘Why not leave the body?’
‘Well… perhaps he didn’t know what the clue was. Or perhaps…’ He floundered, then a thought came to him: ‘Perhaps the body itself is the clue.’
‘Or perhaps it isn’t, and he’s simply trying to confuse us,’ Susan suggested.
‘Well, if that’s the case, then he has certainly succeeded,’ I said.
But Susan was sure Kreiner had hit upon the answer.
‘What difference does it make anyway?’ I asked her.
‘I know you didn’t move the body,’ she said quietly. Kreiner had turned away and was staring out of the window, across the grounds. I don’t know if he heard, if he was listening, even if he was at all interested.
‘Do you?’ I asked.
She frowned. ‘I think so, yes. Yes, I’m sure you didn’t.’
‘So?’
‘So I know that you’re not the murderer either,’ she concluded with flawed logic.
‘And that makes a difference, does it?’ Kreiner spoke without turning.
I stared at Susan, anxious to see her reaction to this. Again she avoided my gaze, this time looking down at her brandy, warming the bowl of the glass in her delicate hand. ‘Yes,’ she said softly.
‘Well, it must be reassuring to know that you’re safe in here with him,’ Kreiner said. He did turn now, and there was a boyish grin on his face.
She looked up at him, her eyes colder than before. ‘Oh shut up, Fitz,’ she said, her tone suddenly and markedly harsher than normal. Then, more gently, she added, ‘You’re still worried about the Doctor, aren’t you?’
‘Aren’t you?’ he asked, his own tone serious for once.
‘Me?’ She seemed surprised. ‘Obviously.’ Then immediately, as if she had not answered, she said, ‘No, why should I be?’ Before I could express surprise, though, she was speaking again, quickly with realisation. ‘You think he took the body, don’t you?’
‘No,’ Kreiner replied. But he spoke so quickly that I knew he was lying. He gave a short, humourless laugh. ‘I mean, why would he?’ He looked at Susan intently, and when he spoke again there was a severity, an undercurrent to his words as if he were trying to tell her something more than his mere