The Ice House by Minette Walters Read Free Book Online Page B

exciting encounters than two, don't you think. Or have you never tried?"
    His dislike of her was irrational and intense. He jerked his head in the direction of the main part of the house. "Have you corrupted her children the way you've corrupted her?"
    She laughed softly and stood up. "You'll find Mrs. Goode in her sitting-room, I expect. I'll show you out." She led the way along her corridor and opened the door. "Walk straight through the main body of the house until you reach the west wing. It's a mirror image of this. You'll find a similar door to mine leading into it." She pointed to a bell on the wall which he hadn't previously noticed. "I should ring that if I were you. At the very least, it would be polite." She stood watching him as he walked away, a scornful smile distorting her lips.
     
    Andy McLoughlin had to pass the library door to reach the west wing so he looked in to tell Walsh it would be a few minutes yet before he returned with Diana Goode. To his surprise, she was in there already, sitting in the chair Phoebe had sat in. She and the Inspector turned their heads as the door opened. They were laughing together like people sharing a private joke.
    "There you are, Sergeant. We've been waiting for you."
    He took his seat again and viewed Diana with suspicion. "How did you know the Inspector wanted to talk to you?" He pictured her outside the French windows listening to Anne Cattrell making a fool of him.
    "I didn't, Sergeant. I popped my head in to see if you wanted a cup of coffee." She smiled good-humouredly and crossed one elegant leg over the other. "What did you want to talk to me about, Inspector?"
    There was an appreciative gleam in George Walsh's eye. "How long have you known Mrs. Maybury?" he asked her.
    "Twenty-five years. Since we were twelve. We were at boarding school together. Anne, too."
    "A long time."
    "Yes. We've known her longer than anyone else, I suppose, longer even than her parents did. They died when she was in her early twenties." She came to a halt. "But you know all about that from last time," she finished awkwardly.
    "Remind us," Walsh encouraged.
    Diana lowered her eyes to hide their expression. It was all very well for Anne to say don't let the bastards intimidate you. Knowledge itself was intimidating. With one casual reference, the sort she might make to anyone, she had rekindled the sparks of an old suspicion. No smoke without fire, everyone had said when David disappeared.
    "They died in a car crash, didn't they?" Walsh prompted.
    She nodded. "The brakes failed. They were dead when they were cut out of the wreckage." There was a long silence.
    "If I remember correctly," said Walsh to McLoughlin when Diana didn't go on, "there were rumours of sabotage. Am I right, Mrs. Goode? The village seemed to think Mrs. Maybury caused the accident to get her hand prematurely on her inheritance. People have long memories. The story was resurrected at the time of Mr. Maybury's disappearance."
    McLoughlin studied Diana's bent head. "Why should they think that?" he asked.
    "Because they're stupid," she said fiercely. "There was no truth in it. The Coroner's verdict couldn't have been clearer-the brakes failed because fluid had leaked from a corroded hose. The car was supposed to have been serviced three weeks before by a man called Casey who owned the garage in the village. He was just a bloody little crook. He took the money and didn't do the job." She frowned. "There was talk of a prosecution but it never came to anything. Not enough evidence, apparently. Anyway, it was Casey who started rumours that Phoebe had sabotaged the car to get her hands on Streech Grange. He didn't want to lose his customers."
    McLoughlin looked her up and down, but there was no appreciative gleam in his eyes. His indifference was complete and, to a woman like Diana who used flirtation to manipulate both sexes, it was daunting. Charm was powerless against a stone wall. "There must have been more to it than that," he