Angela / Cathy turned to follow her but Harry stood between her and the door. She was not going to get away until he had the truth.
Or her version of it.
“Who are you, Angela or Cathy?”
“Would you believe me if I told you?”
Another answer to a question with a question-answer pounded into an already pounding headache. Tiredness was catching up with him and with all the twists and turns, Harry was struggling to keep up. If he was lucky, which he was not, Edwina would be the next person to call and ask him to take on her case too.
She was looking at Harry, and then the door, and back again, calculating the odds of escaping. It wouldn’t take much to knock him over. Of course, there was only one problem with that course of action, if she did, that would mean she was guilty.
Of what, Harry was not sure. He didn't think she killed Al. She didn’t look to him like a killer. Besides, didn’t he read somewhere women preferred to use poison?
“Angela Morrison, as Miriam said.”
“And why the deception?”
“I needed the money. I lived with Cathy before she was killed, and she had a bad life considering who her father and mother were. Al was a killer, and her mother, there’s a piece of work.”
“You knew Jennifer?”
“We used to go to their place for dinner. Cathy would have to cook, I helped her. The way Al treated Cathy, both of us considered killing him many times over. I was there the night he did kill her, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.”
“You saw him actually kill Kathy?”
“No, not actually see him do it.”
Which meant there was, from her point of view, no reason, other than circumstantial evidence, that he did.”
“Then how could you say he did it?”
“Because he bashed me too, and left me in a coma, and without any memory of what happened at the time. The police found me at the scene, hanging on by a shred. Cathy was dead. I was no help in bringing Al to justice. My memory only came back about a year ago, and I’ve been looking for him since then.”
“But you just said...”
“He did it. There’s no doubt in my mind.” Anger and determination.
“Did you have an affair with Al?” It was a logical question. He’d know Angela wasn’t his daughter and given his reputation, and the fact it was Joseph’s daughter, which, when he thought about it, sounded a little crazy.
Harry had also made the assumption that if she could get close enough, a knife through the ribs when he was expecting something else would serve her purpose.
“No, that’s just creepy.”
“Did you meet him at the office?”
“Did he remember you from that night?”
“No. I’ve changed a lot since then.”
“Then you could have used your charm to get close and kill him.”
“That was not what I was after.”
“You said you could kill him for what he did to Cathy. Your words.”
“I was angry with him, yes, but that doesn’t mean I had the courage to go through with it.”
Then a thought occurred to Harry. Time to confirm my assumption.
“Who are you really?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Seems odd that an old school friend would be this interested in a dead girl. She means something else to you?”
“Yes. She was my cousin. Edwina Jones or as she was known before she married Joseph Jones, Edwina Morrison, is my mother.”
© Charles Heath 2016-2019
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