Common Murder

Willow grinned. “We’ll have to see about that,” she replied. “But first, we’ve got something to ask you. We’ve just had a meeting to discuss this business. We’ve decided we need to safeguard our interests. Already there have been reporters round here, and we don’t like the attitude they’ve been taking. That leaves us with a bit of a problem. We need someone who can help us deal with the situation. It’s got to be someone who understands why none of us could have done this, but who also knows the way the system works. It looks like you’re the only one who fits the bill.”

The third woman chimed in. “It wasn’t a unanimous decision to ask you. Not by a long chalk. But we’re stuck. Personally, I don’t feel entirely happy about trusting someone who works for a paper like the Clarion, but we don’t have a lot of choice. Deborah’s already been picked up, and even if she’s released without charges, the mud’s been slung and it will stick unless we can get our point of view across.”

Lindsay shrugged. “I do know how the media works. But it sounds more like you’re looking for a press spokeswoman, and that’s not a job I can really do. It gives me a serious conflict of interest.”

The third woman looked satisfied. “I thought you’d say that,” she said triumphantly. “I knew that when the chips were down you’d know on which side your bread was buttered.”

Needled, Lindsay said, “That’s really unfair. You know I want to do everything I can. Deborah’s been my friend for years. Look, I can help you project the right kind of image. But don’t expect miracles. What I do need, if I’m going to do that, is total cooperation. Now I know there are women here who would die before they’d help a tabloid journo, but from those of you who are willing to help I need support.”

Jane replied immediately. “Well, I for one am willing to trust you. The articles you’ve written abroad about the camp have been some of the most positive pieces I’ve seen about what we’re doing here. You’re the only person capable of doing what we need that we can any of us say that about.”

“I’ll go along with that,” Willow added. “I’ll pass the word around that you’re on our side.”

“Care to supply some quotes before you go?” Lindsay asked as Willow and the other woman seemed about to leave.

“Jane can do that. She’s good with words.” Willow said over her shoulder as they went out, closing the van door on Jane and Lindsay.

“There was something else I wanted to discuss with you,” Jane said hesitantly. “I know a lot of the women would disagree with me, so I didn’t raise it at the meeting. But I think we need someone to investigate this on our behalf. We are going to be the centre of suspicion over this, and while they’ve got us as prime candidates, I don’t think the police will be looking hard for other possible murderers. Will you see what you can find out?”

For the second time that morning, Lindsay was taken aback. “Why me?” she finally asked. “I’m not any kind of detective. I’m a journalist, and there’s no guarantee that my interests aren’t going to clash with yours.”

Jane parried quickly. “You’ve told me you’d cleared a friend of a murder charge. Well, I figure if you did it once, you can do it again. Those features you wrote for the German magazine seem to have a feel for the truth, even if you don’t always choose to report it. You can talk to the cops, you can talk to Crabtree’s family and friends. None of us can do that. And you’re on our side. You can’t believe Deborah’s guilty. You of all people can’t believe that.”

Lindsay lit a cigarette and gazed out of the window. She really didn’t want the hassle of being a servant of two masters. Jane sat quietly, but Lindsay could feel the pressure of her presence. “All right,” she said, “I’ll do what I can.”

By noon Lindsay had dictated her story and spoken to Duncan who, never satisfied, started to pressurise her about an interview with Deborah. Disgruntled, she was walking back from the phone box when a car pulled up alongside. Suddenly, Lindsay found herself enveloped in a warm embrace as Deborah jumped out of the car. Nothing was said for a few moments. Judith leaned over from the driver’s seat and called through the open door, “I’ll see you up at the camp,” before driving off.

“Oh, Lin,” Deborah breathed. “I was so afraid. I didn’t know what was going on. The bastards just lifted me, I couldn’t even do anything about Cara. I’ve been so worried. I haven’t slept, haven’t eaten… Thank God you had the sense to get Judith on to it straight away. God knows what I wouldn’t have confessed to otherwise, just to get out of there. There was a big blond Special Branch bloke, but he was no big deal, they’re always too busy playing at being James Bond. But the superintendent is so fucking clever. Oh Lin.” And the tears came.

Lindsay stroked her hair. “Dry your eyes, Debs. Come on, Cara will be wanting you.”