‘If you’d picked the wrong side?’
‘Kind of, yeah,’ said Tulloch. ‘I mean, obviously Marianne only sent me the worst bits, given what she wanted me to do.’
‘Which was?’
‘Kill Jemma.’ This was said matter-of-factly. ‘She knew about Jemma’s plan – found the diary file on her laptop and read the whole thing. Told me she’d suspected for ages that something wasn’t right, so she’d got into Jemma’s computer and had a bit of a shufti. Didn’t like what she found, so offered to pay me twice as much.’
‘To kill Jemma?’ Simon thought it was worth checking.
Tulloch nodded.
‘When and where was this meeting?’
‘Early September, in London. She invited me to lunch. Restaurant called Gymkhana in Mayfair. She paid, obviously. Way beyond my means. Paid for my train and taxis too. Crazy woman made me eat goat brains.’ Tulloch chuckled. ‘Side dish: goat brains, I kid you not – haha, pun intended. She promised me I’d love it if I could get past my squeamishness, and she was right. Delicious.’ He patted his belly.
Simon felt nauseous.
‘You know, I think that’s how I knew Jemma wasn’t really serious about going through with it.’ Tulloch tilted his head to one side and his beard moved with it like a solid piece of wire sculpture. ‘I sat there listening to Marianne, thinking, “This is someone whoreallywants her enemy taken out.” She wouldn’t take no for an answer at first. I had to get a bit firm with her or she’d never have left me alone. I’ll be honest with you: I’ve not slept nearly as well since, but I will now. Now I know she’s dead,’ Tulloch clarified, apparently unaware of what he’d revealed.
‘And you still didn’t tell Jemma,’ Simon said pointedly. ‘You didn’t warn her or go to the police?’
‘No way.’ Tulloch reached over and turned the gas fire back on. ‘Like I said, I wasn’t keen on the prospect of killing anyone.I didn’t want Jemma deciding we’d better strike first, before Marianne had a chance – which I was pretty sure Marianne wouldn’t do, by the way.’
Spoken like a seasoned analyst of criminogenic risk factors, thought Simon.
‘She’d have known if anything happened to Jemma, I’d be in a position to tell the police everything. No way she’d take the chance.’
‘She could have paid a third party to remove the problem of both you and Jemma,’ Simon suggested.
‘Could have, I guess.’ Tulloch scratched the side of his face. ‘I never thought of that possibility.’ Helpfully, he reminded Simon once again that what he’d lacked in opportunity, he made up for in motive. ‘Luckily, I don’t have to worry about it now, do I?’ he said. ‘Now Marianne’s dead, I mean.’
Simon pulled over as soon as he’d turned a corner and was sure he couldn’t be seen from the too-hot lounge he’d just escaped from. He picked up the papers from the passenger seat next to him and started to leaf through them. As promised by Tulloch, there were handwritten diary entries and typed ones. His eye landed on an email from Marianne, which seemed as good a place as any to start.
From: [email protected]
12 September 2023
Dear Tom,
In the hope that it might persuade you, I’d like you to read the attached extract, dated 7 July this year, from the diary I found on Jemma’s laptop computer, which I onlywent searching for once I’d decided that she and her privacy deserved as little respect as she has shown for me and mine. I told you when we met about her approaches to Norman Pelphrey and others. In this diary entry, she refers to that unsavoury episode as if she were the victim of it and I the evil, entrapping monster. I hope you’ll be able to see that, given what she has done already and her grotesque plan to eliminate me, this mealy-mouthed offering is the writing of a manipulative, narcissistic snake. You cannot imagine how painful it is for me to write those words about my own daughter.
I beg you, Tom – think about everything I’ve told you. Read again, more than once if you have to, the diary pages I’ve posted to you from 2006. Also read the entries I emailed you yesterday (they’re not dull, I promise. They include Jemma’s plan to murder me, using you as a weapon). Read it all, and try to imagine even a fraction of the misery I’ve experienced. I think you’ll change your mind. I profoundly hope that you will.
Warmest best wishes,
Marianne
Simon turned to the piece of paper beneath: another email from Marianne to Tom, sent after he’d failed to reply to her first.
From: [email protected]
13 September 2023
Well? If £10,000 isn’t enough to tempt you, I’m willing to double it. £20,000. That’s my final offer.
