CHAPTER THIRTY
Brownlow rang the Swain house at 9:15am, a time when he could be reasonably sure that Cynthia would be home alone. "I want to talk to you, alone."
"I don't think that would be a very good idea."
"I don't think that you are in a position to dictate terms. If you have anyone with you when I get there I go straight to the station and present my evidence. I have enough to have you, at the very least, brought in for questioning about the death of Paul Thomas, but I also feel that there is enough evidence to have you arrested. I'm just asking for the opportunity to show you what I have before I decide whether to go public with it."
Cynthia thought it a little unusual but decided to go along with it, but she wasn't going to let him anywhere near her bed. "You can come on the condition that we meet in the back garden. When you get here you will find me by the pool."
"Fine, I'll see you in half an hour. Remember, anyone else around and I'm off to you know where."
Cynthia was by the pool running the vacuum over the bottom ridding it of its overnight windfall of leaves when Brownlow approached her. He stood and watched her until she switched off the vacuum and stood leaned it against the pool edge. "Now this is more like it."
"Like what?"
"Like the way that we should be behaving. I don't want to do anything to hurt you and, to prove that I still love you, I will outline the evidence that I have. If, when you've heard it, you agree to my terms I will go back to work admitting defeat. If, however, you don't agree to those terms I will be forced to present my evidence and have you arrested."
"You seem very sure of yourself, don't you?"
"Yes. Now, you know that we have established that the skeleton was that of Paul Thomas, a former very close friend of yours."
"Yes, you've made that very clear."
"Now you claimed that you did not see him from the time of the dinner dance. I have a witness that puts Mr Thomas in this house at a time when you were there, three or four days after the date of your mother's departure to visit relatives in England. The witness will testify that he saw Thomas arrive but he was not seen to leave."
"So, you have someone who will testify that he was here after the last time I said that I saw him, but what does that prove?"
"It proves that you lied to me. It proves that you had the opportunity. The fact that he was lover to both you and your mother, and I have evidence that it was him that broke it off with you, will prove motive. The only thing that I haven't got is method. I think that a jury will convict on body, motive, and opportunity without us having to establish method."
"What are these terms that you want me to agree to?"
"Now we're talking.. The continuation of our relationship, on my terms."
"Which are?"
"You will do as I ask, when I ask it as long as I ask."
"You arrogant pig! Do you think that there could be any pleasure in a relationship that is based on coercion?"
"Before you decide, there is one more thing that I want you to see." He took an envelope from his jacket pocket and passed it over. "I think that will be enough to convince you."
Cynthia looked at the pictures in her hand. Rebecca and Samantha, naked, on a bed in a position that could only be described as pornographic. "Where did you get these?"
"Vice arrested the principals of a pornography syndicate and these pictures were among those confiscated. I recognised Rebecca and her friend Samantha and took them from the file. If you agree to my terms I'll get the negatives and turn them over to you so that you will know that they have been taken out of circulation. What is your answer?"
"You are lower than I've given you credit for. You know that I will not give into to you to protect myself, so now you want a minor indiscretion on Rebecca's part to blackmail me into submitting to your totally selfish demands. You also know that the only way that you can blackmail me is to threaten to go public. I already know about these things that Rebecca and Samantha have been doing so I'm not as shocked as you might have thought, in fact we have been trying to get the photos back ourselves. The thought of other people seeing them would normally be enough to force me to submit to you."
"Normally?"
"Supposing that I do agree to your terms, how long do you intend to continue with this arrangement?"
"As long as it suits me." Brownlow's voice was gaining in confidence, victory was within sight.
"And if this relationship should ruin my marriage?"
"Tough! As long as I get what I want I'll be happy. If I don't get what I want you can kiss good-bye to your precious family anyway. I will destroy them."
"I need a little time to think this over. It's getting warm out here and I've no intention of allowing you inside, at least not until I've reached a decision, so could you give me a hand to drag the umbrella out from under the house to give us a bit of shade and then I'll go in and get us a cool drink. Then we'll talk some more." She led the way to the store room under the house and pointed to a large umbrella laying in the corner. He picked it up and carried it out to the pool area. As she left the store room Cynthia picked up a glass jar from the shelf.
Brownlow stood the umbrella pole into the hole at the centre of the table and reaching inside it, he pushed up to open it. As he did so, Cynthia opened the jar and emptied its contents in to gap between his collar and neck.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Cynthia's Story
It was my first grown up function, the end of year Tennis Club Dinner Dance and Presentation Night, and I felt so sophisticated in my very first ball gown. It was blue chiffon and had absolutely yards of tulle under skirting that made it stand out so that I seemed to float in a blue cloud. My hair was done in the latest formal style, a far cry from my usual casual, caught at the back of my neck style, and my makeup was professionally applied at a local beauty salon.
Mother looked as usual in a very elegant black dress, her hair piled high on her head and set off by a single strand of pearls interwoven into it. Around her neck she wore a three strand pearl choker that set off her long, swan-like, neck to perfection.
Daddy was very smartly dressed in a black dinner suit with a white shirt that had ruffles down the front. He wore a black bow tie, a red cummerbund and matching carnation in his button hole. We were the handsomest family there.
I was escorted by a handsome but shallow young man that Mother had arranged for me. Nigel Thornton was tall, had dark hair, piercing blue eyes, tanned complexion, a great smile and absolutely no personality. In short a plastic replica of a man and a used car colleague of Paul's.
I danced with both Paul and Nigel. Both of them held me closely and talked of nothing but themselves. Both of them tried to outdo the other with their prowess on the dance floor. Paul partnered me for the tango, we strode purposefully, cheek to cheek, across the floor until we reached the other end, as we changed direction, Paul threw me back until I was sure that I would end up on the floor. The first time he did it I squealed in surprise and this spurred him on to greater feats.
Nigel asked me to dance the waltz. His spins were exuberant to say the least, we seemed to be joined at the hip, he standing upright and me bent back till it almost hurt. I felt a hardness in him as we twirled our way between the other dancers. Paul and Mother were doing their best to better us, both men were concentrating on their dancing and not saying much. I was glad when the dance was over, but Nigel wanted to hold me for a while longer so that the bulge in his pants could subside. I was tempted to walk away from him and exposing his embarrassment for the rest of the people to see. I glanced across to Mother, and Paul seemed to be having a similar problem.
