‘As you do.’
‘As you do when you know she’s just furious at being upstaged by a little vicar.’ He turned on her. ‘Merrily, why? Why did you run it so close to the wire? Why didn’t you just run the other bloody way? In that situation, on me own, even I’d’ve run the other way.’
‘What, like you did with a cellar full of the cockfighting fraternity?’
‘Why?’ Bliss said again.
‘I don’t know. I don’t know why I did it.’
Well, she did. And that was the blackest joke of all.
‘We’re gonna tell Gore later,’ Bliss said. ‘Tell him what happened down by the river. To see whether he laughs as well. So to speak. It’s interesting that he’ll talk, in his faintly refined way, about everything. Everything but his family. Everything but his upbringing. Everything but his mother.’
‘It’s a very peculiar relationship.’
‘Did she do it all? From the beginning?’
‘I think you’ll find she did. A psychotic teenager exposed to – whether it was happening or not – black magic and a celebration of violence by educated, persuasive people who claim that doing bad things is not only excusable, it’s important for the future of the planet…’
‘Did you see the devil in her, the yellow satanic eyes? I’m not being fatuous.’
‘No. I wanted to, but it’s like she’s got past that stage. She’s a mature woman now, it’s become habitual. Smashed all the barriers. Sold her soul a long time ago. What’s left looks like… nothing. Something dead. What scares me most was that it’s like there was some kind of transference. Something happening inside me. For just a second or so, on the riverbank, I just wanted to… Frannie, I’m a bloody vicar…’
‘Yeh, well, you didn’t.’
‘What if they hadn’t come when they did?’
‘No illusions, kid, she’d’ve had you. You’d be a friggin’ C of E martyr. Saint Merrily.’
She watched the pink entering the clouds, like a little blood soaking through the bandage on her arm.
‘Who told them, anyway?’
‘Somebody in one of the houses, complaining about the disturbance. They thought you were both pissed.’
She started to laugh.
‘Why was she there anyway? Why did she really go there?’
‘That little beach? There’s talk of a boat being seen on the river, in the vicinity. What if somebody was waiting to pick her up? Both of them, or just her. Get them quietly away down the Wye? How traditional is that?’
‘What kind of boat? Whose?’
‘Interesting, isn’t it? All the rich and influential, deeply rightwing people with land near the Wye. Downriver and into oblivion. But I fantasize… We’re never gonna know, are we?’
They were silent for a few seconds. From inside the ambulance, she’d heard them bringing Gwenda out of the river, Gwenda – typically – threatening to bring charges. Merrily getting out of the ambulance very rapidly in case Gwenda was coming in.
‘When I first met her down there,’ she said at last, ‘she was rambling on about Gore leaving her for another woman. I thought it was all just bullshit, off the top of her head. But it does begin to look like something happened between them. Something conclusive.’
‘She’s possessive, to put it mildly. Her son and her lover – can you imagine that? Finding the son and lover is two-timing her?’
‘Are you going to be able to prove that Gwenda – for whatever motive – killed Tamsin?’
‘Lorra work to do there. Had she been watching Tamsin? Had something alerted her when Tamsin went to the bar to ask questions?’
‘Some visible chemistry between Tamsin and Gore? Where’s Gore now?’
‘Out there somewhere. Charged with assault and bailed. It’d make it a lot easier for everybody if he buggered off. I wonder if he will.’
‘You’re not watching him?’
‘Dyfed-Powys’s baby now, and Brent will’ve explained about my condition. If Gore sticks around, we’ll need to work on him. He may’ve killed nobody and might well walk. A man raised by Nazis.’
‘Where’s Tamsin on this? Did she know about that? Or was he just some uncomplicated, quiet fell runner?’
‘It’s conceivable that Gore was finally starting to react against his own upbringing. Although, to be honest, I wouldn’t trust him at all. Thorogood told me a silly little tale about Gore helping him to put up his shop sign and nearly taking Kapoor’s head off with a big slab of oak. Like something was bred into him – if you gerra chance to kill or main an ethnic… Yeah, right.’ Bliss shook his head. ‘I don’t know where this starts, Merrily, but I’ve a good idea, with the state of the West Mercia Police budget, where it’s likely to end.’