Free No Man's Nightingale by Ruth Rendell Page B

Gerry.’
    ‘I know it would be too much to ask if you know what the rapist was called.’
    ‘It would be,’ said Thora Kilmartin. ‘He wasn’t someone Sarah knew. But she had seen him before and she knew where he lived. It was in a flat in a newish, rather expensive block called Quercum Court quite near where my husband and I live now. But that was all and I think he moved away very soon after the rape. Maybe he suspected that Sarah would go to the police, I don’t know, but he disappeared and of course I was glad for Sarah’s sake. Imagine having him around when she knew he was the father of her child.’
    Wexford tried to imagine it but found this too difficult a feat. ‘And Gerald Watson? Do you know his whereabouts?’
    ‘He was younger than Sarah,’ Thora said ruminatively, as if she were probing her recollections. ‘About five years younger. He lived at home with his parents. A great mistake, I always think, if you’re over twenty. He used to come to the flat to take Sarah out. The evening of the rape they were going out together, they were going to a concert. But he phoned and said he couldn’t come, he had to stay at home with his mother who was upset over the death of a neighbour who had been killed in a road accident. I know. Can you imagine? That’s what comes of staying tied to your mother’s apron strings. Sarah went alone.’
    ‘And that was when she was raped?’
    ‘As you say. That was when she was raped.’
    ‘What did he do for a living?’
    ‘He was a solicitor.’
    ‘How close was the relationship? I suppose he stayed in your flat over weekends and he and Sarah went away on holiday together?’
    ‘Oh, no, you’re wrong there. Sarah wouldn’t have had that. I can see I haven’t made it plain to you how deeply
moral
Sarah was. Absolutely out of date, more like someone living sixty years ago than in the present. She wouldn’t have had – well, sexual relations with a man until she was married to him. I don’t even know if she and Gerry Watson intended to marry.’
    Thora helped herself to a chocolate marzipan slice. ‘I wish you’d eat something.’
    Wexford shook his head. ‘You said in your letter to her that you weren’t surprised when you heard she’d been ordained. You expected it?’
    ‘Not exactly that,’ said Thora. ‘It was more that she was always religious and she had high principles. In that way you could say that the rapist, the
handsome Asian
, picked on the most vulnerable and innocent woman he could have. No, perhaps not innocent but very vulnerable. She always saw the best in people but she knew about the worst. I would like to have heard one of her sermons and it’s too late now.’
    ‘Would you be surprised to hear she had a boyfriend? Strange word for a middle-aged man but that’s what I was told.’
    ‘I’d be surprised to hear they had a sexual relationship.’
    Burden sounded very much more interested in Gerald Watson than Wexford had been. He must be found. He might be that significant figure from Sarah Hussain’s past that they were all looking for. It was a phone conversation and Burden had seized upon Gerald Watson before Wexford had reached the rape.
    ‘No, we’ll find him,’ Burden said with that confidence not only in the Internet but also in Kingsmarkham Crime Management team’s ability to carry out the search. It was a confidence common to people twenty or even ten years younger than Wexford. He, for his part, was just about able to get hold of Google and somewhat shakily direct it to produce information.
    ‘You’re thinking an ex-boyfriend would bear a grudge like that over eighteen years? Enough to have killed her?’
    ‘I just want to talk to him, get the picture. According to Dennis Cuthbert there was a current boyfriend. If so, where is he? Why has no one else mentioned him? We must meet.’
    They fixed on two days later for lunch, Wexford reserving the rest of Sarah and Clarissa’s story till Wednesday. He returned to