Chapter 8

Diane was much more herself when I arrived at her bedside later that morning. She wanted to talk about what happened. "Pug. Terry wanted me to sleep with a man who he was trying to do business with. He was angry that I wouldn't. After that I knew I had to leave, the next morning I told Terry I was leaving him and that I wanted a divorce." I decided not to tell her that I was a witness to the previous evening's incident.

"What did he say?"

"He said no one leaves him unless he says so. The next thing I saw his fist coming at me, I turned my head but not quickly enough. It was a terrible blow to my head, I was down on the floor and then he was kicking me."

"Diane He will never do that again." She smiled.

"I know, Pug. I'm with you now."

"No Diane you don't understand. Terry's dead. He was at his office last night and there was a fire. He didn't make it out." Diane was silently shaking her head.

"No, no. He can't be. I didn't want to stay with him, but I wouldn't wish that on him." She looked distraught. "Is it true? How did it happen?

"It looks like arson. We don't think Terry did it, but he got caught up." She looked up.

"Does this make a difference to us?"

"No. We are us. I am sorry about Terry, but I was going to take his wife from him anyway. I love her."

"And she loves you. I am sorry about Terry. He was a fool, such a good salesman he could have sold sand to the Arabs, but he couldn't resist the lure of pulling off a dodgy deal, neither could he resist a short skirt."

"When you got out of my car at the 'Bird in Hand' my mind was much occupied with pictures of you."

"Oh a flash of stocking does it for you. What pictures did your mind see?"

"Oh you in stockings."

"And?"

"Just the stockings."

She smiled. "I'm pleased. I did it deliberately you know."

"I thought you did, Salome."

"But you did resist."

"Yeah. I was stupid." She put her mouth to my ear and whispered.

"I'll do it for you again, Stockings, high heels and nothing else. Don't resist." I had no doubt about that.

I was still interested in why she had hesitated about divorce.

"Terry had some papers that incriminated my Father in a Tax Fiddle. I don't know how he got them but said that Dad would go to prison for quite some time if the Revenue got to know about it. He also told me that he would ruin my face if ever that happened. He would make sure that no one else would want me."

"So you knew when you told him you were leaving what was likely to happen?"

"I hoped that what he said was merely bravado. Obviously it wasn't." I was glad that Bowden was dead, else I would be doing time for doing to him what he did to Diane. The guy was a complete scumbag. I was humbled by her courage. Knowing what might happen she went ahead anyway.

Terry Bowden was dead before the fire was set. He had no traces of smoke in his lungs, which of course meant he wasn't breathing. The fire had done enough damage to him that determining the cause was problematical, but the Pathologist identified broken bone and cartilage in his neck sufficient to suggest that he had been strangled possibly manually but more likely with a ligature. The case against Terry Bowden was closed and another file opened to investigate his murder. Radic had disappeared from his usual haunts. Bob advanced the theory that our arresting Terry had alarmed Radic who had him killed so that even if he had told us anything about his operation he could not give evidence in Court. The fire was intended to destroy any evidence that could have been there. Whatever the reason all our information was handed over to the Detective Superintendent of the Murder team. I was now back in harness, catching up on paperwork at first then getting out and about with the constables on the beat. I took the opportunity to ask Bob off the record if there were any papers incriminating a Mr. Worrall in a Tax Fraud. He looked at me strangely.

"No, Andy. Nothing like that. Do you know this Mr. Worrall?"

"He's Diane's father." Bob shook his head.

"We didn't come across anything like that. When was this supposed to happen?"

"I should imagine some fifteen years ago."

"Andy you know how the Income Tax dogs are. If there was any suspicion they would have got their teeth in years ago. Let it go"

"After all this time. You're right. Let sleeping Dogs lie."

I gave Diane the good news and the bad news. That there appeared to be no evidence against her father and that Terry had been strangled. She was happy that her father was off the hook then cried bitterly that Terry had coerced her into marrying her with that threat. Because of that she wasn't too upset upon hearing that her husband had been murdered.

"I bet it was that man." Was her only comment. "I got the feeling that he and Terry were doing something dodgy together. That's why Terry wanted me to have sex with him." I was certain she was right.

Diane's blood pressure had remained normal, indicating that her spleen was undamaged. She was told she could be discharged. The keys to her house were in the safe at the station. John returned them to Diane and Jacky volunteered to go and get some clothes for Diane. She got to my flat with three suitcases bulging at the seams. I must have looked surprised.

"It's not just for one day you know." Jacky told me. "She'll need all this if she's living here, unless you insist she runs around naked all the time." Pleasant thought but not practical. My smile told her where my mind was.

"Pervert!"

Diane was excited as I drove her from the hospital to my flat. I parked and helped her out then held her arm as we walked to the entrance. Because of the configuration of the old Bank the conversion would only allow four flats. One on the ground floor, two on the first and one, mine, on the top floor. The lobby was quite large as was the stairwell which allowed a lift to be installed. I was the only one who used the lift on a regular basis; neither of the two flats on the first floor had been sold. We reached my floor and Diane waited impatiently for me to open the door. It swung back and I surprised her by picking her up and carrying her over the threshold.