Page 158 of The Last Love Song
‘Yes. I’d been to check that Con and Sorcha were still down in the recording suite.’
‘But Mr Daly says he didn’t see you or speak to you. Why would that be?’
‘Because I didn’t want to disturb them, or interrupt their possible reconciliation. Which I’d arranged, by the way.’
‘So you’d arranged for Mr and Mrs Daly to be in studio one together?’
‘Well, recording suite two as a matter of fact, but yes.’ Helen stared at Detective Inspector Garratt. ‘That’s not a crime, is it? I was only trying to help, to get them back together.’
‘And you’re saying they were both alive and well at ten past six?’
‘Yes, absolutely.’
‘I see. Miss McCarthy, are there any other ways out of the building, other than by the front door?’
‘Yes. There are three emergency exits, but they’re kept locked for obvious reasons. The keys are encased in glass above the door, to be broken in case of fire.’
‘Are there duplicates of these keys?’
‘Yes. They’re kept in a locked drawer in my office.’
‘I see. The problem I have, Miss McCarthy, is that the security guard swears that you were the only person he saw leaving the building between six and quarter to seven, the time that Mr Daly alerted him to the situation. None of the emergency exits were tampered with, and the building was searched from top to bottom when the police arrived. It was deserted.’
Helen could feel the sweat starting to drip off her back. Her mouth had gone completely dry.
‘Surely you’re not trying to say that...’
‘Say what, Miss McCarthy?’
‘That I...that I...It’s ridiculous! Just because a security guard says I’m the only person he saw leave, surely that doesn’t mean...’ Helen could not even bring herself to voice the words. ‘He could be lying! There’s not a shred of proof. I feel as though you’re accusing me!’
‘I’m doing nothing of the kind, Miss McCarthy. I’m just trying to establish the facts, put together the pieces of this mysterious jigsaw. Would you happen to own a gun, Miss McCarthy?’
Helen blushed. ‘Yes.’
‘For any particular purpose?’
‘I’m a member of a gun club. I’ve taught myself to shoot. I’m a wealthy woman who lives alone. After Tony’s death I felt I should try to protect myself. There are so many madmen around that I thought it was worth having.’
‘And would you be able to show us where the gun is right now?’
‘No. My gun was stolen from my locked drawer. I noticed it was missing a couple of days ago. I notified my local police station at the time.’ Helen put her hands over her eyes and shook her head. ‘I can hardly believe I’m having to answer these idiotic questions. Why on earth would I want to harm Con Daly or his wife? He’s Metropolitan’s biggest star, andSorcha has been living with me for the past two weeks. She’s my friend. For Christ’s sake, I was only trying to give them an opportunity to be together this evening, not to murder them!’
‘Well now, these are all questions that will be answered in due course. That’s enough for tonight. Someone will drive you home. I’d prefer it if you didn’t leave your house for a while. You won’t object to someone coming to search the premises, will you? You obviously have nothing to hide.’
‘No, but you can damn well obtain a warrant beforehand. I’ll be instructing a lawyer and I might sue for harassment. This whole conversation has been totally preposterous.’
‘I’m only doing my job, Miss McCarthy. And I’d certainly suggest you instruct a lawyer.’ He stood up. ‘Goodnight.’
Con listened to the beeping of the monitors. He tightened his grip on her small white hand.
‘Sorcha, Sorcha-porcha,pleasepull through. Come back to me, come back,’ he murmured.
‘Do you want a coffee, Mr Daly?’ The night nurse was behind him, her gentle Irish accent comfortingly familiar.
‘No, thanks anyway.’
The nurse checked the labyrinth of tubes that were attached to Sorcha.
