A Fatal Affair Faith Martin (read dune .TXT) 📖

you? I have my name to think of, and my boy’s future to protect, and the farm. The Dewberrys have worked the land here since the Normans came. It’s not as if I can make people really understand! Nobody would understand about Iris, see …’

‘But what if they did?’

The new voice, shockingly, seemed to come out of nowhere. And instinctively, Ray swung around, seeking the source of that unknown voice, the barrel of the shotgun swinging with him.

Chapter 35

Trudy recognised the voice at once, but simply couldn’t understand why she was hearing it. It sounded so out of context that for a moment she had the weird feeling you sometimes got when you found yourself wondering if you were actually dreaming, and not really awake at all.

She swivelled around to look behind her and saw that she was right, and that Duncan Gillingham was now walking towards them. He carefully had his hands out either side of him, showing that he was carrying nothing more than a notebook and a pencil in one hand.

‘Who the hell are you?’ Ray Dewberry snarled. He looked wild-eyed and seriously put-out.

Clement took the opportunity of his distraction to quickly move further to one side and towards the farmer, putting him still further away from Trudy but closer than her to the man with the gun. Luckily, Trudy was also looking at the newcomer, and hadn’t seen what he’d done.

Ronnie gave the coroner a quick, worried look. He shot another worried glance at his father, then back at Clement, clearly torn about whether he should warn his father or not. Loyalty to him had to rank high, but how far could it be stretched? Wordlessly, Clement nodded at Janet, looked pointedly at Ronnie, then jerked his chin towards the house. With his hands, he mimicked the motions of someone dialling a telephone.

Janet nodded, understanding immediately what he wanted, and grasped Ronnie’s arm and tugged pleadingly. For one awful, heart-stopping moment, Clement thought he’d refuse to move, and he scowled at the younger man, doing his best to radiate outrage. He again looked at Janet, then pointedly at the shotgun in his father’s hand, and then jerked his head imperiously towards the house, his intentions clear enough for even Ronnie to understand.

Get Janet safe! What are you thinking about, boy?

To his relief, Ronnie had the grace to flush in shame for not thinking of her first, and after shooting his father’s stiff back a final, fearful gaze, began to back away, keeping Janet behind him. Luckily, the open kitchen door wasn’t that far away, and his father was way too thunderstruck at the interruption to sense the movement going on behind him.

‘I said, who the hell are you and what are you doing here?’ Ray roared.

Trudy, her heart in her mouth, saw Duncan flinch, then force a smile onto his handsome face. ‘I’m the man who can help you, Mr Dewberry,’ Duncan began glibly.

Trudy groaned, wanting to throttle him! Of all the times to chance his luck like this. Did he not realise that he couldn’t rely on his charm or his cheek to see him through in a situation like this? Ray Dewberry didn’t care a fig for his fancy words or persuasive ways – he’d just shoot him!

‘He’s nobody important,’ Trudy said lightly, desperately trying to think of a way to ensure that Ray Dewberry didn’t see him as a threat. ‘He’s just a pesky reporter for the local rag.’ She hoped her tone came out as casual and slightly scornful as she’d hoped.

Behind her, Clement gave a sigh of relief as he saw first Janet back into the farmhouse and disappear, and then Ronnie. He was even more pleased when he saw the kitchen door quietly close. Surely the boy would have the sense to lock it? And bar it for good measure? Hopefully Janet was even now running for the telephone to call the police.

‘A reporter!’ Ray said in disgust. ‘That’s just what I need!’ he snorted.

‘But Mr Dewberry, don’t you see, that is just what you need,’ Duncan said, trying to ignore the roiling in his stomach that made him want to throw up, and the slightly light-headed feeling that made him want to sit down.

When he could no longer deny to himself that Ray was about to start killing, the idea had popped into his head like a cork out of a bottle and before he’d had time to think it through, something had compelled him to stand up. He’d then walked the few steps around the wall to enter the courtyard.

Now he just had to pull it off.

‘You said just now that you had no choice, and that it was all Iris Carmody’s fault,’ Duncan swept on nervously, needing to lay out his pitch before the man just went totally off his rocker and started blasting. ‘Isn’t that right? And that nobody would understand the real truth of the matter?’

Ray continued to glare at him in silence.

Duncan swallowed hard, but tried another smile. ‘Well, that’s where I can help you,’ he said, and risked twitching his hand with the notebook in it. ‘You see, I can tell your story for you, Mr Dewberry. You can have your say. You can tell everyone what Iris was like, and how she drove people mad, forcing you to do what you didn’t want to do. You said nobody would understand, but that’s only true if they don’t get the chance to. But you can make them understand how it all was.’

Was Ray beginning to look less, well, murderous, and more thoughtful, or was that just wishful thinking? Encouraged, he took a cautious step forward. ‘Don’t you want people to understand how and why it all happened? How it wasn’t all your fault?’

Duncan risked a quick look at Trudy, a silent appeal for her not to do anything rash, but let him make his play. If he could only talk the man down, they might all get out of this alive.