me for it, which is silly, because I hadn’t even met him then. She only puts up with me at all because she knows she’d never get to see little Terry if she didn’t, but I know she’d just jump on it, if my name gets dragged into the papers again.’
Hillary nodded with every evidence of sympathy. Of course, the Thompson case would have been widely reported in the local press at the time. Supposedly, her husband either hadn’t been living in the city at the time, or else had a poor memory for names. She wouldn’t be surprised, though, if the mother-in-law from hell hadn’t already had a PI check out her son’s second new trophy wife, and already knew all about it.
‘There’s no reason why we would need to speak to your husband, Mrs Pitt,’ Hillary said, adding craftily, ‘so long as you co-operate fully with us, of course.’
‘Oh, I will. Obviously. I mean, I want whoever killed Rowan to get caught. Of course I do,’ Darla said quickly.
Scribbling down his notes, Jimmy didn’t think that she sounded all that sincere, but then it was understandable. If they solved the case, there’d be a murder trial, and the chances of Darla being able to keep her past a secret from her older, snobby husband would be practically zero.
‘All right, then. So, at the time of the murder you and Rowan were an established couple, yes?’ Hillary began.
‘That’s right. We’d met when we took rooms at Wanda’s, so we’d been together for a couple of months.’
‘Was it serious?’
‘Yes. Well, no. I mean,’ – Darla took a deep breath, making a visible effort not to ramble – ‘I thought at the time it was, butlooking back on it now, I could see that it would never have worked out.’ She smiled a shade grimly. ‘You tend to see things differently at thirty than you did at twenty. More clearly.’
‘Yes. But at the time you were in love with him. Or thought you were?’ Hillary pressed.
‘Yes. But even then, I sort of knew at the back of my mind how he was. Even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself.’
‘And how was he?’ Hillary asked gently.
Darla Pitt looked down at her hands, twisting nervously in her lap, and took another long, slow breath. ‘Rowan was one of those men who could tie you in knots. Sometimes he seemed almost like a boy, and could be cheeky and charming and exasperating, all at the same time. And then it was fun. At other times, he could really sweep you off your feet. I mean, really make you feel special. Like this was it. The kind of way that every woman dreams a man will make her feel.’ She flushed slightly, and glanced quickly at Jimmy and then away again, her voice lowering confidentially. ‘You know – he could be genuinely passionate. Made you feel like you were living in one of the big romances.
Wuthering Heights
, and all that.’
She sighed somewhat wistfully. ‘And that was just magical.’ Her pretty face suddenly fell. ‘And then there were times when he could be like any other man, and be just a little shit,’ she added, with more sadness than bitterness. ‘Just shabby and ordinary and disappointing. He’d turn from Heathcliffe to just another bloke who’d climb into anyone’s knickers, given the chance.’
Hillary nodded. A typical young male, still more adolescent than adult, by the sound of it.
‘He hurt you?’ she said softly.
Darla shrugged. ‘Once or twice. And I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t kill him because of that. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t,’ she stressed tensely, rocking a little back and forth on the chair now.
‘I understand you used his room to make clothes,’ Hillary said,making no comment on her protestations of innocence, but keeping her voice quiet and level.
Darla slowly subsided back against the chair and nodded dully. ‘Yes – his was the biggest room. We all four of us applied to the house at around the same time, and it was typical of Rowan that he charmed the old lady into letting him have the biggest
Hillary nodded with every evidence of sympathy. Of course, the Thompson case would have been widely reported in the local press at the time. Supposedly, her husband either hadn’t been living in the city at the time, or else had a poor memory for names. She wouldn’t be surprised, though, if the mother-in-law from hell hadn’t already had a PI check out her son’s second new trophy wife, and already knew all about it.
‘There’s no reason why we would need to speak to your husband, Mrs Pitt,’ Hillary said, adding craftily, ‘so long as you co-operate fully with us, of course.’
‘Oh, I will. Obviously. I mean, I want whoever killed Rowan to get caught. Of course I do,’ Darla said quickly.
Scribbling down his notes, Jimmy didn’t think that she sounded all that sincere, but then it was understandable. If they solved the case, there’d be a murder trial, and the chances of Darla being able to keep her past a secret from her older, snobby husband would be practically zero.
‘All right, then. So, at the time of the murder you and Rowan were an established couple, yes?’ Hillary began.
‘That’s right. We’d met when we took rooms at Wanda’s, so we’d been together for a couple of months.’
‘Was it serious?’
‘Yes. Well, no. I mean,’ – Darla took a deep breath, making a visible effort not to ramble – ‘I thought at the time it was, butlooking back on it now, I could see that it would never have worked out.’ She smiled a shade grimly. ‘You tend to see things differently at thirty than you did at twenty. More clearly.’
‘Yes. But at the time you were in love with him. Or thought you were?’ Hillary pressed.
‘Yes. But even then, I sort of knew at the back of my mind how he was. Even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself.’
‘And how was he?’ Hillary asked gently.
Darla Pitt looked down at her hands, twisting nervously in her lap, and took another long, slow breath. ‘Rowan was one of those men who could tie you in knots. Sometimes he seemed almost like a boy, and could be cheeky and charming and exasperating, all at the same time. And then it was fun. At other times, he could really sweep you off your feet. I mean, really make you feel special. Like this was it. The kind of way that every woman dreams a man will make her feel.’ She flushed slightly, and glanced quickly at Jimmy and then away again, her voice lowering confidentially. ‘You know – he could be genuinely passionate. Made you feel like you were living in one of the big romances.
Wuthering Heights
, and all that.’
She sighed somewhat wistfully. ‘And that was just magical.’ Her pretty face suddenly fell. ‘And then there were times when he could be like any other man, and be just a little shit,’ she added, with more sadness than bitterness. ‘Just shabby and ordinary and disappointing. He’d turn from Heathcliffe to just another bloke who’d climb into anyone’s knickers, given the chance.’
Hillary nodded. A typical young male, still more adolescent than adult, by the sound of it.
‘He hurt you?’ she said softly.
Darla shrugged. ‘Once or twice. And I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t kill him because of that. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t,’ she stressed tensely, rocking a little back and forth on the chair now.
‘I understand you used his room to make clothes,’ Hillary said,making no comment on her protestations of innocence, but keeping her voice quiet and level.
Darla slowly subsided back against the chair and nodded dully. ‘Yes – his was the biggest room. We all four of us applied to the house at around the same time, and it was typical of Rowan that he charmed the old lady into letting him have the biggest
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