Free Faith by Lesley Pearse Page B

phone the police immediately!’
    Stuart said nothing more for a few moments, just looked at Laura thoughtfully.
    ‘It’s exactly that which makes me believe in you,’ he said eventually. ‘I know how devious you can be. If you were going to do anything dodgy, you’d plan it properly. You certainly wouldn’t tell people you were going to Fife if you had murder on your mind, nor cover yourself with blood and wait to be caught.’
    She laughed mirthlessly. ‘That’s a back-handed compliment, if ever I heard one!’
    ‘I know you, Laura,’ he said, half smiling. ‘Really know you, warts and all. I also know the time you received that call from Jackie, and I’ve driven the distance between your shop and Brodie Farm several times to check how long it takes. With no hold-ups on the Forth Bridge, no traffic jams in Edinburgh, it can be done in an hour, which would have got you there at the time the neighbour claimed he saw your car.’
    ‘You checked that out?’ She frowned.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because I can’t believe you killed her, despite all the compelling evidence to the contrary. Of course it does seem as if I’m the only person of this opinion, but I hope to change that. For one thing it would be practically a miracle if there wasn’t some sort of delay anywhere. I only managed it in an hour once, and that was late in the evening. All the other times it ranged from an hour and fifteen minutes to worst case, an hour and three-quarters.’
    Laura looked into his eyes and felt that strange tugging feeling in her belly that he’d so often given her in the past. She used to say it was his voice, the deepness of it, the soft Edinburgh accent, and the self-belief. She could recall times when she’d hungered for that voice so much that she’d play an old tape recording of him speaking, then laugh at herself for being so soft. But it wasn’t his voice alone, not now, it was the determination in his face, the touch of his hands on hers. And his belief in her.
    ‘I went to see Barney’s grave too, and took some flowers,’ he said, his voice soft with sadness. ‘Someone has been looking after it – there were masses of pansies planted on it and it looked very pretty. As Belle is still there I expect it was her.’
    ‘Really!’ Laura exclaimed, for she had expected to hear it was totally overgrown with weeds. ‘That’s very nice of her. She and Charles were very fond of him, but under the circumstances I didn’t expect them to concern themselves with his grave.’
    ‘A child’s death touches everyone who knew them,’ he said simply. ‘I know how devastated I felt, even though I hadn’t seen him for years. I wished I’d been in the country when it happened. I would have come to his funeral.’
    ‘I’m glad you didn’t, I don’t think I could have borne that,’ she said. ‘Yet I did appreciate your card. I still have it amongst my things. But visiting time is nearly up and I’m sick of talking about me,’ she went on, afraid of what she was feeling. ‘Tell me what you’ve been doing. What on earth were you doing in South America?’
    ‘Overseeing a building project,’ he said with a smile. ‘But I can write and tell you all that. Before I get chucked out I want you to promise me you’ll give me written authority to speak to your lawyer and anyone else connected with you. I’ve got to try and find a way to get you out of here.’
    Laura’s heart leapt. No one else had expressed real belief in her, much less stated that they intended to try to help her. ‘There’s no way you can do it. Short of finding the real murderer and sticking lighted matches under their nails until they confess.’ She smiled glumly.
    ‘Then that’s what I’ll do.’ He grinned, showing perfect teeth.
    Strangely she felt a little sadness at his teeth, for they had been far from perfect when they’d first met. But he wasn’t suave and sophisticated then either. She guessed that another woman had taken