The Sentence Is Death

He roared. Hawthorne was blank-faced. ‘So what you’re saying is that you would consider the murder of a lawyer to be justifiable.’

‘I’m not being serious!’ Lockwood stared at Hawthorne, carefully adjusting his features. ‘Look – you’re not really suggesting that I had anything to do with it, are you? Why would I have done something like that? Richard was a bit of a fusspot. He had to dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s and he could certainly be a bit long-winded, but then, of course, the more they talk, the more they get paid. But he did a terrific job. The divorce went exactly the way I wanted.’

‘You gave him a gift, is that right?’

‘A bottle of wine, yes.’ Lockwood seemed unaware that this had been the murder weapon. ‘It wasn’t very much,’ he went on. ‘But it was the least I could do. By persuading Akira not to go for a final hearing, he’d saved me thousands of pounds.’ Lockwood glanced briefly at his gold cufflink and adjusted it. ‘Actually, it was a waste of money giving it to him as I learned afterwards that he didn’t drink. But, as they say, it’s the thought that counts!’

‘I’d be interested to know the details of what you agreed . . . the settlement between you and your wife.’

‘I’m sure you would, Mr Hawthorne. But I wouldn’t say it was any of your business.’

Hawthorne shrugged. ‘You know that Richard Pryce had hired a team of forensic accountants to investigate your wife.’

‘My ex-wife. Yes, of course I know. Navigant! Who do you think was paying the bills?’

‘What you may not know is that almost the last thing he did before he was killed was to ring his partner – Oliver Masefield – and tell him that he was concerned about something that related to the settlement. He was even thinking about referring the matter to the Law Society. It could well be that he was murdered to prevent this. So it is very much my business, Mr Lockwood. And the police’s business. You’d be doing yourself a favour if you got your version of events out there first.’

Lockwood was flustered. Two red pinpricks had appeared in his cheeks, fighting against the suntan. ‘Well, I’ve got nothing to hide. Everything is on record and I’m sure you’ll get access to all the papers. It’s just that having put the whole thing behind me, I’m not keen on stirring it all up again.’

‘I can understand that.’ Hawthorne was a little more emollient now. But then he knew he was going to get what he wanted.

‘It was actually very straightforward. Ms Anno, if I may call her that, thought she could get her hooks into half of everything I had but Richard very quickly put her right. Let’s start with the fact that she had brought absolutely nothing to the marriage. Quite the opposite. I had to prop her up with her therapies and her health club and her yoga sessions and all the rest of it. After the honeymoon, she hardly ever let me into her bed and even on the honeymoon I had to chase her round the bloody ecolodge that she’d chosen in the middle of Mexico.’

There was a bowl of fruit – bilberries – on the table beside him. Lockwood reached in and scooped out a handful, which he ate, one after another, as he continued.

‘But it’s simpler than that. All we’re talking about, really, is money. It’s certainly what was on her mind! For someone who calls herself a poet, she certainly has an eye for the hard stuff! Well, Mr Hawthorne, here’s the truth. As you probably know, I’ve made my living out of property. I won’t say I’ve done badly. In fact I’ve had some pretty good years. But it’s an up-and-down business and sad though it is to say it, there have recently been more downs than ups. There was the credit crunch – and we still haven’t shaken off the after-effects. The slowdown in London. Banks not lending. I don’t need to go into the details. But it’s been pretty grisly, I can tell you, and dear old Akira joined the team at exactly the worst time.

‘In the three years I was married to her, I made nothing. Not a bean! Absolute zip. And that was the point. Akira was entitled to fifty per cent of nothing at all and I was more than happy to give it to her.’

‘Did she believe you?’ Hawthorne asked.

‘Of course she didn’t! Listen. I had my accountants work on the papers that we presented to her lawyers. I set out all my finances, down to the last euro, everything fair and square. I had to. That’s the law. But Akira wouldn’t accept it. She questioned every last bloody detail and she had her own forensic accountants looking into all my business dealings over God knows how many years. I have no idea what they hoped to find but they came up with nothing.’

Lockwood was becoming more relaxed, warming to his subject. The smile was back on his face.