Read Online The Final Curtain by Priscilla Masters - Free Book Online Page B

seem to fit that too.’ She considered for a minute. ‘Plus the fairly obvious and extensive cosmetic surgery.’
    Korpanski was smiling. ‘Doing a psychological profile, Inspector?’
    â€˜Bugger off,’ she said again, even milder the second time around. Truth was, she was relieved that her recent married status hadn’t altered their relationship. In a way, she reflected, when Korpanski had asked whether he should in future call her Mrs Levin or stick with Piercy he had been asking that very question. What would change? Well, nothing.
    As she had done on the previous day they stopped at the ridge to look down on Butterfield Farm and Mike echoed her thoughts. ‘For a house that’s on its own it’s not exactly tucked away, is it? It’s easy to overlook from here.’
    She turned to face him. ‘You’re starting to believe her? That there’s some maverick, mad stalker out there?’
    â€˜Not necessarily but—’
    â€˜But what?’
    Korpanski’s dark eyes scanned the empty panorama. ‘Why stay out here if she’s so rattled?’
    â€˜Because she’s stubborn, independent, because she doesn’t want to give in to her feelings?’
    But she too turned to look at the farmhouse which stood in such isolation, trying to hide inside the valley but only succeeding in drawing attention to itself. ‘I don’t know, Mike. Maybe she just wants privacy.’
    Diana Tong was standing in the doorway, watching them as they drove in. And even before they’d parked they could tell her manner had changed subtly from yesterday. She was less haughty and condescending, stepping towards them as they pulled up and greeting them almost like old friends as they climbed out of the car. ‘Inspector, Sergeant. Thank you for coming. Timony and I, well, we think we should do some explaining. Give you some background, you see.’
    It was on the tip of Joanna’s tongue to say that this trip was possibly yet
another
waste of time but at the same time she was curious. She stayed silent, managing to limit her acerbity to, ‘We’d be grateful if you keep it brief and help with the frequent calls your employer’s been making. If they continue,’ she added darkly, ‘we may even be forced to bring a prosecution against her for wasting police time.’
    Diana Tong’s feathers weren’t even ruffled. ‘Just hear Timony’s story,’ she appealed. ‘I think you’ll find it goes some way towards explaining at least some things,’ she replied coolly, holding the door open to allow them to file in.
    Timony Weeks was sitting on the sofa looking – frankly – terrified, thinner, older and, if her face had been able to display any emotion, Joanna guessed she would have looked distraught. There was a distinct change from yesterday.
    Korpanski said nothing but shot her a swift, puzzled look. It was the look a concerned son might aim towards a parent he has suddenly realized is ageing fast. The watch was lying on Timony’s lap. She was looking down at it with an expression of revulsion, her hands and back angled away as though its touch would taint her.
    â€˜I had it buried with him,’ she said, still looking down at it rather than at the police. ‘It was left on his wrist when he was placed in his coffin. I saw it buckled on, the strap fastened. Gerald loved this watch. It was his favourite thing. He asked to be buried with it – on – his – wrist.’ The last few words were spoken in a panicky, hiccupping voice. ‘Someone must have …’
    Joanna shifted on her feet, wanting to point out that Mrs Weeks’ first husband might have loved his watch so much he’d asked to be buried with it strapped around his wrist, but that meant that it was almost certainly not
this
watch. It was a fairly obvious if tacky trick. Unless she had played it on herself. If she