Free MURDER BRIEF by Mark Dryden Page B

a thriller?"
    "No."
    "There’s no objective standard
for judging a literary novel. So if it's boring or badly written,
the writer can easily blame the reader for being impatient or
lacking insight. But with a thriller, the standard is obvious: it
thrills or it doesn’t. The writer’s got nowhere to hide."
    "I hadn’t thought about it like
that. I’m sure yours pass the test."
    "Opinions differ."
    "How many novels have you
written?"
    "Half-a-dozen. But the last one
didn’t sell too well. I think readers are getting a bit tired of me
and the sub-genre. Time to reinvent myself."
    "How?"
    "I think I’ll start writing
vampire or zombie novels. For some reason, they’re selling like hot
cakes right now."
    "You’re serious?"
    "Of course. I’m a commercial
novelist. I follow the market. I’d even put product placements in
my novels if I could. I certainly don’t want to go back to my
previous job."
    "What was that?"
    "I was a lawyer."
    She laughed. "I fully
understand."
    Torkhill smiled and leaned back.
"Anyway, on the phone you said you’re a barrister representing Rex
Markham?"
    When Robyn told him that, and
asked for a chat, she expected reluctance. Instead, he immediately
agreed in a friendly tone. Didn’t even ask what she wanted to talk
about. Just told her to come right over, as if he had nothing to
hide.
    Now, she said: "Yes, that’s
right."
    "And how can I help you?"
    "Well, umm, I understand Alice
Markham was your contact at Grimble & Co?"
    "Yeah. Looked after me for about
five or six years: read my manuscripts, negotiated with publishers,
stuff like that. I was devastated when she died."
    "You got on well?"
    "Yes, very well."
    Time to toss her grenade. She
cleared her throat and stared out at the white sand curving around
to the headland. "Really? Well, you see, I’ve been told you, umm,
had an affair with her."
    Robyn expected a vigorous
denial. Instead, Torkhill coolly sat back and crossed his arms, as
if such accusations were a daily occurrence. "Who told you
that?"
    "I’d rather not say."
    Torkhill shrugged. "Fair
enough."
    "Well, did you?"
    He looked serene. "Yes, in fact,
I did."
    Robyn was surprised at his
openness. "Really?"
    "Yes, for a few years."
    "And when did it end?"
    "When she died."
    "How often did you see her?"
    "You mean, intimately?"
    "Yes."
    "Oh, once or twice a month."
    "Here?"
    "Usually."
    Robyn was puzzled. The Homicide
cops should have interviewed Torkhill. Yet he wasn’t even mentioned
in the prosecution brief. Why not?
    She said: "Just out of
curiosity, did any Homicide detectives talk to you about Alice
Markham’s death?"
    "Yes, they did."
    "Really?"
    "Yes. A little birdie must have
told them I had an affair with her. Probably the same one who told
you. They wanted to know if I murdered her."
    Robyn desperately wet her lips.
"And did you?"
    A wry smile. "Alice was murdered
on 17 September last year, correct?"
    "Yes."
    He leaned forward and his face
lit up. "On that day I was in London, attending a writers’
festival. In the morning I chaired a panel discussion called The
Death of the Femme Fatale ; in the afternoon I gave a talk
called Cherchez la Feminist . Snappy, huh? If you want, I can
show you my passport. It’s got entry and exit stamps. So, when
Alice died, I was on the opposite side of the globe."
    Robyn’s heart sank. No wonder he
was so blasé about admitting his affair with Alice. He couldn’t
possibly have murdered her.
    She said: "That’s a pretty good
alibi."
    Torkhill laughed. "Show me a
better one."
    Though not a suspect, he still
might know some useful information. "OK. So did she talk much about
her marriage?"
    "No, not much. She came here to
get away from her husband, not talk about him. But it was obviously
a shambles, and she mentioned, a couple of times, that he’d hit her
during arguments. He obviously has a bit of a temper. That’s one of
the reasons she wanted a divorce."
    "And what did you do, when she
mentioned his violence?"
    Torkhill sighed