Читать книгу Exham-on-Sea Murder Mysteries 1-3 - Frances Evesham - Страница 12

Max drummed his fingers on the table. ‘The thing is, Susie kept in touch with me after she left. I used to live and work in Bath, in one of the banks, and Susie came in one day, before she left for America, and opened an account.’

‘Was she rich?’

‘Not rich then, though she was later, but I don't think she ever trusted Mickey. I tried to stop her going away with him.’ Max's eyes were focused on his plate. Did he still hold some sort of a candle for Susie? It would explain why he was the only person in Exham on Sea with a good word to say for her.

‘She wouldn't listen. Said she could handle herself but wanted to be sure there were funds somewhere safe, that only she knew about, in case she, or anyone else, ever needed them.’

Their steak arrived and Max stopped talking, refilling Libby's glass with wine and taking a deep draught of beer. Libby sliced into her food, watching blood trickle from the rare steak.

‘Or anyone else,’ she murmured. ‘What could she have meant by that?’

Max shrugged. ‘She wouldn't say. Just told me it was her secret and she'd let me know when she wanted the money. That's all there is to it.’

‘That's all?’

‘I shouldn't even be telling you.’ The sharp edge was back in his voice.

Libby ignored it. ‘I'm glad you did. What happens to the money now?’

‘There's been a pretty big pot waiting for Susie, but she never used it. She never came back, just contacted me from time to time to check on the interest. In the early years, we spoke about every six months. She talked about needing it soon, but after a while, she stopped contacting me.’

‘When was that?’

‘Oh, six or seven years after she married. It was about the time of her last album. You remember, Twilight over the Sea?’

Libby did remember. Susie's dark contralto voice blending with a plaintive guitar in sad songs of love and loss. Her best work, the critics said. ‘She never made another album, did she?’

‘No, that was it. She lived the rock and roll lifestyle with Mickey: plenty of drugs and booze. They broke up a few years later and she wrote to me again, asking me to keep the account open. She said she'd probably not need it, anyway. That was the last time we were in contact, apart from the statements sent by the bank. I haven't seen her for years.’

Libby took a chance. ‘You were pretty close to Susie, then, if she trusted you with her money?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘What gossip have you been listening to?’

Libby held his gaze, keeping her voice steady. ‘I don't listen to gossip, but you're the only one I've met so far who knew Susie after she left.’

Max picked up a dessert spoon from beside his plate, twirling it in his fingers. His eyes slid away, looking out over the hills. Libby pulled her jacket more tightly round her shoulders.

‘Susie and I had a business relationship. It was no more than that.’

‘But you'd have liked it to be more?’

Max's eyes narrowed. Libby flinched at the steely undertone to his voice. ‘It's none of your business, Mrs Forest.’

She gripped her hands under the table. She took a gamble and murmured, ‘Did your wife know how you felt about Susie?’ A man as attractive as this must be married. Libby discovered she wanted to know.

Max's eyes were stony. ‘We're divorced.’

‘Because of Susie?’

He gave a sharp laugh and drained his glass with a flourish. ‘Oh, Mrs Forest, how very inquisitive you are. Do you think I murdered Susie Bennett?’

‘I don't know, but I'm sure someone killed her. I'm just trying to find out more about the people who knew her. You're one of them. I thought you wanted to help.’

‘Of course I do. You'll have to make up your own mind about me, but for what it's worth, I didn't kill Susie, even though I was no model husband. To answer your question, Susie was just one of the reasons my wife and I quarrelled. But there were plenty of others. Now, if you've had enough to eat, we'd better move inside. The wind's getting up and I'm freezing cold.’

Sure enough, a gust of wind blew napkins from the table and raindrops splattered the cloth. Max rose to his feet, calling Bear back from the river. The dog arrived, wet, muddy and smelly. Libby shivered. ‘Maybe we'd better just leave?’