‘I never took off my clothes for Rannaldini,’ whispered Tab. ‘God, how revolting.’ A horrible thought struck her. Perhaps Isa had taken them and given them to Rannaldini, perhaps Rannaldini had hidden in the cupboard, perhaps Clive…? ‘Oh, Christ, I swear I never knew they were being taken. Where did you find them?’
‘Taking pride of place in Rannaldini’s memoirs. Are you sure you didn’t catch a glimpse of them on Sunday night and burn down the watch-tower?’
‘No, this is the first time.’ God in heaven, why couldn’t this sweating, red-faced thug leave her alone?
Karen was flipping through the little cards that had come with the flowers. ‘Did you ring anyone else after the rape?’
‘No, only Wolfie and Daddy.’
‘Not Tristan de Montigny to tell him what had happened?’
‘Why ever should I? He was in France.’
‘Tristan threatened to kill Rannaldini on Friday. He was seen in Valhalla at the time of the murder.’
Tab started in horror, the colour deserting her face, leaving a grey wasteland.
‘If you’d tipped Tristan off Rannaldini had raped you,’ accused Gablecross, ‘you could have pushed him over the edge. Perhaps he heard your message on Wolfie’s machine.’
‘No.’ Clapping her hands over her ears, Tab frantically shook her head. ‘No, no, no!’
‘Wolfgang threatened to kill his dad after he heard that tape,’ taunted Gablecross. ‘Hope you weren’t telling porkies. Might ’ave encouraged that young man, even your father, to kill Rannaldini, or did you tell your husband?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘Hello, I’m back. Lovely basket of fruit arrived for you, Tab, darling.’
As a slender, very tall girl walked in, Gablecross leapt guiltily to his feet. This must be Rupert’s wife, Taggie. She looked hardly older than her stepdaughter. Unfortunately he was too late to stop Sharon wriggling out from under her chair. Frantically searching around for a present, she snatched Tabitha’s photographs off the table, and proudly bore them over to Taggie.
‘Drop, Sharon, for God’s sake!’ Tab stumbled forward, snatching the photographs, then crumpling to the floor, sobbing hysterically. ‘They think I killed Rannaldini, that I led him on to rape me. Please don’t look at those pictures.’
Seldom had Karen witnessed such fury; a tigress protecting her cub.
‘How dare you b-b-bully her after all she’s been through, you horrible, horrible beast!’ yelled Taggie.
Even Gablecross stepped back.
‘You’re right, he is a beast,’ agreed Karen. Together she and Taggie lifted a weeping Tab to her feet. For a second, she froze, rigid with revulsion, then collapsed weeping in Taggie’s arms.
‘I didn’t want anyone to know about the rape. I wouldn’t have blurted it out to Dad or Wolfie. I was just so devastated about Gertrude.’
‘I know, darling.’
‘I feel so awful about Mummy. She’s had such a terrible time with the press over the years. Imagine the f-f-field day Beattie Johnson’s going to have when she finds out Rannaldini raped me, particularly if the police say I led him on, and what will the Lovells say? Jake hates me, and Isa’s never forgiven me because of Peppy Koala. Oh, Taggie, I’ve made such a mess of my life.’
‘You haven’t.’ Taggie tugged the red scarf from her dark hair, holding it for Tab to blow her nose on, as if she’d been Bianca.
‘You’re good, brave and beautiful.’
‘Like a beautiful car that doesn’t work,’ wailed Tab. ‘I loved Lysander, Isa and Tristan so much. Why didn’t any of them love me? Because I’m bad luck, that’s why, and I don’t want to bring any more to Mummy. I love her so much too, but she’s never rung to see if I’m OK. I expect the police have already told her I pulled her husband. What’s she going to think when she sees those pictures?’
What would
‘What will she say when it all comes out?’ mumbled Tab.
‘Perhaps it can be hushed up?’ Taggie turned beseechingly to Karen.
‘Tabitha’s been very co-operative,’ said Karen, who was feeling thoroughly ashamed of herself.
Taggie turned back to Tab. ‘Look, why don’t we ask Mummy to stay for a bit?’ Her far too kind heart was already sinking as she made the offer.
But a tiny spark had ignited Tab’s face.
‘Could we? Oh, Taggie, you are kind. I hate her rattling about in that creepy house, stalked by Rannaldini’s ghost.’
‘And you must open your lovely basket of fruit,’ said Karen. ‘Mangoes and persimmons. Someone wants you to start eating again.’ She handed Tab the tiny envelope.
They were from Wolfie.
‘Perhaps he might drop Mummy off,’ sniffed Tab. ‘I’d love to see Wolfie again.’
Gablecross was profoundly depressed. Karen had bawled him out for bullying Tab, Rupert Campbell-Black had lodged a ferocious complaint with the Chief Constable, Gerry Portland was threatening to take him off the case altogether, and he had absolutely no idea who had killed Rannaldini.
