All Passion Spent by Bergotte (read with me .TXT) 📖

was returned to the police cells to await the arrival of her solicitor. Paul, Michael and Isabella took their leave. Gerrard and Rossi sat waiting for the lawyer from Queens Square. When he arrived they all went to the interview room once more. The prisoner was brought from the cells and the whole interrogation process began again. 143
Meanwhile, the man known as Jack appeared at the police station. The desk sergeant asked him to wait while he fetched someone in authority. During a break in the proceedings with Rita, Anna withdrew from the interview room and went to see Rita’s companion. They went to Gerrard’s office where Rita wrote down the account of Halloween night from Jack’s lips. He was very sad as he related all the details. Anna sensed that he really cared about the young woman who had befriended him. “I never thought it would turn out like this. I never suspected anything until right at the end. Even when I saw those shoes I thought there must have been other reasons for them to be in the locker. Obviously, your search of my house made me think a bit… but I still find it hard to imagine that young woman I shared my bed with is capable of committing murder. It’s beyond all reason.”

Despite all that had been said to Rita in her interviews with the police, she managed to brazen it out. Gerrard admired her in a way for her tenacity, her determination to stick to her story. However, in the company of her solicitor she eventually started to relent. She would not answer Gerrard’s questions directly but started what amounted to her confession in a rather roundabout way. She told him, “For years I’ve believed that my mother and my father for that matter, my real father I mean, despised me. They always compared me with my sister, expecting me to do as she did. But I am not like her at all. I can’t be like her. I tried of course, but I failed, as I knew I would. I wanted a different life to the one I have had.” 141
Gerrard tried desperately to get her to answer his questions. “Mrs Fellingham… We know that you must have killed your mother. There is no other explanation... It would be better if you confessed to it now.”

Rita wavered but the fight was going out of her. She couldn’t carry the guilt of what she had done any longer. She felt ashamed. Deserted by her husband Michael and her sister Isabella and her brother-in-law. The family loyalty had disintegrated. She had no one else she could trust. Jack had let her down. Sally Stoneham too, had let her down. Gerrard said, “I’m going to start by giving my own summary of the events of Saturday 21st October that led to the death of Laura Fellingham, your mother. Isabella had fallen out with her business partner, Laura over business matters and the fact that she had formed a relationship with Michael that was, shall we say, more friendly than that between sister and brother-in-law. From your mother’s perspective and Paul’s they were embarked on an affair. Did you also think at the time that they were having an affair?”

“Yes,” said Rita. Her monosyllabic reply was almost inaudible. “Could you speak up please for the tape?” asked Gerrard. “Yes,” Rita repeated a little louder. She shuffled in her chair and looked at the solicitor. Gerrard continued. “Isabella had arranged to meet her mother Laura at the main entrance to Sydney Gardens. Laura had given her an ultimatum, either give up the relationship with Michael or the business partnership would be dissolved and any inheritance she was expecting would cease because Laura threatened to change her will. When Isabella met your mother she planned to say, ‘no’ and face the consequences. Her husband Paul also knew of this meeting and planned to intervene in some way. He caught the train from Paddington early on Saturday afternoon. By accident he’d come across a diary entry on his wife’s computer giving details of a meeting.

He thought the meeting between Isabella and her mother was a meeting between Isabella and Michael. He tried to catch his wife meeting Michael not her mother but he went to the wrong bistro. In fact he was partially right because Isabella had agreed to meet Michael for dinner and tell him the outcome of her meeting with Laura Fellingham. He was in the vicinity of Sydney Gardens after the murder took place. He ate alone and then walked along Pultney Street wondering what to do next. Your sister Isabella came to Sydney Gardens at 7.45 p.m. to meet your mother, but she was not there. Tommy Matheson saw her at the main gate. So, Isabella did not murder her mother, neither did Michael.”

“I don’t know all the facts but I would suggest the following,” said Gerrard. “Laura and Isabella have arranged the meeting for 7.45 p.m. At 7.15 p.m. Laura drives from her home at Wingfield village, near Trowbridge, through the Limpley Stoke Valley down the Warminster road towards Bath. She parks her car at 7.32 p.m. on the left just above the Holburne museum. As she crosses the road at 7.33 p.m. to go round to the main entrance of the park she is struck by a passing motorist, driving at high speed in a yellow sports car. She is thrown down and badly injured. The driver does not stop but turns left and intends to drive on into Bath to the Lower Bristol road to Keynsham, but changes his mind and goes home. Tommy Mattheson appears on the scene. He picks up Laura, realising she is badly injured and carries her into the park entrance to let her lie on the soft grass. But, he thinks he will be accused of hurting her. He puts her in the bushes and takes her watch, mobile and credit cards from her handbag in seconds. He covers her with leaves and runs away through park. Now, unless it was a complete stranger with no motive you must have committed the murder. I think that you Margherita Fellingham decided to interrupt the meeting and confront your mother yourself about your sister’s affair with your husband, Michael.”

Rita suddenly interrupted him to take up the story. “She drives from her home in Bathford, but takes the turning to cross the toll bridge at Bathampton instead of coming to Bath on the London Road. She drives past the entrance to North Road and stops outside the Spa hotel at 7.45 p.m.” Gerrard looked at her, “Please continue,” he said. “As she walks down the road on the right Rita decides to get there quicker and cut through the park instead of walking round it. She is cold and frightened in the dark and loses her nerve. She also desperately needs the toilet. She goes into the nearby bushes, takes down her tights and pants, crouches down and goes to the toilet. When her eyes become more used to the dark she sees a figure in front of her. She investigates and finds her mother lying in a crumpled heap.”

Anna leant towards Rita and gave her a smile encouraging her to go on with her account. Rita recommenced. “When the evenings start drawing in during autumn and winter I always carry a bicycle lamp with me. It’s one of Michael’s old ones. It’s in perfect working order but its mounting is damaged. I keep it in my shoulder bag. When I switched it on I saw her face, and hatred welled up in me. I saw her injuries and my opportunity. I saw the nail file in her bag, sticking out. I drew it from her bag like a dagger from its scabbard and stabbed her through the neck with it. I have enough medical knowledge to be pretty sure that she would die instantly.” “Why did you do it, Rita?” asked Anna. “I thought that my mother was encouraging Isabella to flirt with Michael and then to have an affair with him. I thought she hated and despised me.”

“I went up through the park in the opposite direction to the main gate. I crossed the railway bridge and the canal bridge, throwing the nail file into the canal as I did so. I did not want to be found in possession of a murder weapon. I came along after that vagrant fellow, so he didn’t see me. It didn’t matter to me that my footprints were at the crime scene. I’d stopped to go to the toilet. But my shoes had blood on them. So did some of my clothes, but I got rid of those. I washed them and gave them to charity shops. I came out at the top entrance, by the tennis courts, opposite my car. I changed my shoes as soon as I got to my car. If I had tried to ditch them they’d have been found. I drove to work at the hospital. The rest you know.”


CHAPTER TWENTYEIGHT

Wednesday, November 1: afternoon

Gerrard had invited Anna to have a good cup of coffee at a favourite café of his. It was his way of celebrating the successful conclusion to the case. “I thought you would want to go the pub sir, to celebrate," she said. “Whatever makes you think that?” “People usually celebrate with alcohol don’t they?” “I’m not people, Anna.” “Don’t you like a good pint of beer?” “No, not at all.” “Now sir, changing the subject, what do you think will happen to Rita Fellingham?”

“I should imagine her defence lawyer will suggest she pleads guilty but with diminished responsibility. I don’t think she will be held responsible for her actions because she was in no fit mental state.” “She won’t be sent to prison then?” “Not in the ordinary course of events, I wouldn’t think. She’ll have to undergo some psychiatric tests I imagine and will be confined in some kind of mental institution.” “Do you think she represents a threat to society, sir?” “I don’t know. I’m a psychologist, or I was, not a psychiatrist. I do think she’s a very sick woman though.” “What do you make of the fellow she called Jack?” “I think that Jack genuinely loves Rita. He did tell me that he would look out for her and support her.” “Do you think that she loves him?” “Who knows? But, I think there is every chance of their relationship succeeding.”

“Despite the fact that she will probably be committed to a mental institution?” “She won’t be there forever. The killing of her mother was not premeditated so she may well be convicted of manslaughter rather than murder. She has no criminal record and that will count in her favour.” “It was probably a one off event then,” observed Anna. “Maybe… by the way, talking of criminal records, the Chief Super is thankful that we’re not relying on any fingerprint evidence.” “Because of the controversy you mean, sir?” “Yes, ever since that Panorama programme on the BBC in May… he’s been very twitchy about fingerprints.” They both laughed.

Towards the end of November Paul and Isabella finally separated. He decided that he would be better off making his home in London. She wanted to set up her business alone. Laura Fellingham’s home would not be sold but taken on by Michael and Isabella together. They decided to marry as soon as each had a divorce come through. In a few years time they looked forward to starting a family. “It’s good to know that some something positive has come from this wretched business,” said Anna. “It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good,” replied Gerrard. He was