The last comment was said with a sense of obvious shame attached.
"There was no way you could have known," Tom said, although the guilt in their expressions was such that the words fell on deaf ears. "But the two of you have no idea who she could be bumping heads with more recently?"
Jan shook her head. "Perhaps she wrote something in her diary."
"Do you know where she keeps it?"
"Yes, of course, in her study. Please, come with me and I'll show you."
Chapter Four
Jan Beckett led them from the drawing room and along a short corridor towards an extensive kitchen with a large orangery at the rear of the house. Only they didn't enter, instead turning to the left and into a link corridor leading to the other side of the house where they came to a closed door adjacent to a full-height sash window overlooking the grounds. With precious little light pollution, the grounds were rapidly being swallowed by the approach of night, but Tom cast a glance through the window and observed what would once have been manicured lawns and ornamental beds. There was a fountain encircled by a gravelled pathway. None of what he could see appeared well maintained, although in its heyday the grounds would have been quite a sight. Now, it all looked a little sad and neglected.
Jan Beckett placed a hand on the rounded brass knob and tried the door, but it was locked. She looked at her son and Justin stepped to the other side of the corridor and a small bookcase. He moved a tome from the top shelf and produced a key from behind it, passing it to his mother. She partially opened the door, the hinges creaking as she did so.
"My sister was very private. She didn't want the staff to enter her study."
"We will need a list of their names when you can," Tom said.
"Oh, we don't have anyone anymore, Inspector. But my sister was a creature of habit," Janet said, pushing the door open further.
The scene greeting them stopped her in her tracks.
"Oh… my word," Janet all but whispered, raising a hand to cover her mouth which had fallen open.
Tom gently placed a restraining hand on her shoulder, ensuring she didn't move forward, not that she seemed ready to. Easing past her, Tom entered the study. The room was in complete disarray. A large desk was set before a period fireplace with bookcases lining the walls, all of which were crammed full of books. The pedestal drawers to either side of the chair were open, their contents emptied onto the desk itself or strewn across the floor. Likewise, there were multiple box files on the floor, cast aside, their contents scattered in every direction. The study had dual aspect windows, much as most of the reception rooms in the house appeared to. The lower sash of one had been forced and upon closer inspection Tom could see it had been jimmied from the outside. This style of window required special locks to fasten them in place as they were far too easy to force entry for those who knew how.
Tom took great care where he placed his footing as he entered. Eric took up position alongside Jan, hovering with intent to stop her moving should she attempt to do so. Justin appeared in the doorway behind them, looking past Eric to survey the interior.
"Good God, whatever happened here?" he asked no one in particular.
Tom ignored him, whereas Eric merely glanced in the man's direction and raised a hand to indicate he should move no further. Tom made his way around to the other side of the desk, noting that the drawers must have been secured because each of them had been crudely forced, most likely with a screwdriver judging from the damage. He looked back to the doorway, fixing his eyes on Jan.
"This is recent," he said. "You didn't hear anything suspicious?"
Jan was momentarily dumbstruck, only managing the most rudimentary of responses – a shake of the head.
"I… I… don't sleep well, so I take my tablets every night before retiring. I'm afraid I don't wake at all until I rise the following day," she said, her voice cracking as she spoke. "Someone was here… here in the house while I was sleeping?"
She turned to her son for reassurance, Tom noting she was beginning to tremble at the very notion of her vulnerability. Eric moved aside and allowed her to go to Justin, who placed a comforting arm around his mother, making soothing sounds as she put her head against his chest. Although he was not a tall man, only marginally taller than Eric, he enveloped his mother within his arms, who seemed far frailer than Tom had first thought.
"It would appear that whoever it was, was looking for something," Tom said, casting a sweeping glance around the room. "Have you any idea what that might be?"
Jan shook her head. Tom met Justin's eye and he pursed his lips before also shaking his head.
"My aunt played her cards close to her chest, Inspector. She wasn't one to share," Justin said. "The by-product of being a loner all her life I should imagine."
"She never married?" Tom asked, although there were plenty of ways one could form a life partnership without requiring a marital commitment, especially these days.
"No, it never happened," Justin said. "I'm presuming there was more to it than just her inability to trust people. After all, there's someone for everyone in this world… isn't there, Mum," he said, looking down at his mother who'd gathered herself. She nodded.
"Mary did come close once," she said.
"Really? When was this?" Justin asked as if hearing it for the first time.
Jan patted her son's chest softly. "A long time ago. Before I even met your father. He was a nice lad, David. But Father wouldn't hear of it. He was offered short shrift when he came courting."
Tom was curious. His expression must have conveyed so because Janet continued, moving out of her son's grasp, but not by far.
"Our father was a lovely man, Inspector, but he was very much a product of his times."
"How do you mean?"
"David was the son of immigrants, you see," Janet said. "Not that they weren't without means. David's father was a successful businessman. That was part of the reason why they were easily able to move here, as well as why they were allowed. But that didn't make up for being of the wrong faith. David's family were Jewish."
"Why haven't I heard this before?" Justin asked.
Jan dismissed her son with a flick of the hand. "It's all ancient history. However, I don't think Mary ever forgave our father for his stance. She wasn't bothered about the family religion any more than I was but Father… and, to a lesser extent Mother, were. It was probably more down to the standing in the community above anything else."
"Poor Aunt Mary," Justin said, frowning. "I didn't realise Grandpa was such a… I don't know what to say."
"Don't be too harsh on him, Justin. Things were different back then. Incomers weren't trusted… especially those fleeing Germany in the thirties."
Tom wondered how much opinions had really changed over the years, perhaps the focus of prejudice was aimed in another direction, but the sentiments weren't altogether different. And within Norfolk, you could be a resident there for four decades and still be considered an incomer, irrespective of your choice of religion or country of origin.
"We're going to need to have some crime scene technicians come by and sweep this room," Tom said. "Has any other room in the house been turned over, even in the slightest way?"
"Not as far as I know."
"Okay, we'll have a look around if you don't mind?"
"No. Please do. Do you think they're likely to return?" she asked, fear edging her tone. Justin placed his hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed, drawing an appreciative glance in his direction.
Tom cocked his head. "I would say it's unlikely, judging by our presence, but… it depends on whether they got what they were after. Does your sister use a computer or own a laptop?"
Jan nodded her head vigorously. "A laptop. She always kept it here in the study. As far as I know she never took it from in here."
Tom looked around, searching for it amongst the disorganised mass of paperwork, but to no avail. There were a number of cables under the desk but whatever they'd been connected to was
long gone. Maybe the intruder got what they wanted but, judging by the mess they'd made, it was equally likely they were looking for a hard copy of something else and may have taken the laptop in the hope it contained a digital version of whatever they were after.
"What if they come back?" Janet asked.
Tom saw the fear in her eyes, unsurprising considering her sister had just been murdered.
"You can always come and stay at ours," Justin said. "Miriam won't mind, I'm quite sure. And the children would love to have you there."
Jan turned to her son. "I wouldn't want to be any trouble. I'd rather stay here… this is my home and—"
"And what?" Justin asked with a concerned expression.
"And I feel closer to Mary. I know that's daft," she said, looking at Tom.
"Not at all. It's quite understandable," Tom said. "I'll make sure we keep a uniformed presence here at the house for the time being until we have a better idea what we're dealing with. That will ensure your safety."
"Thank you, Inspector," Justin said, nodding his appreciation. "I'll stay here as well tonight. If you don't mind, Mum. Just to give you peace of mind."
Jan patted her son's hand affectionately. "Yes, thank you. You're a wonderful young man, always putting yourself out for me."
"Don't be silly," Justin said, smiling warmly.
Tom gestured for everyone to step out of the room, keen to close it off until the crime scene technicians could attend. If they were lucky, the intruder may have left a print or some other telltale piece of trace evidence to give them a clue as to what this was all about. Once they were all out in the corridor, Tom closed the door.
"It would be best if no one entered this room again until my officers arrive. That way we can maintain the integrity of the evidence. I want that to be clearly understood."
"No one will go in there, Inspector. I'll see to it," Justin said.
"Very well. Jan, if possible, would you mind accompanying DC Collet back to the drawing room and perhaps you could start making a list of any individuals or companies your sister may have had dealings with over the years. That includes anyone she may have fallen out with as well as more mundane interactions – gardeners, tradesmen. Anyone who may have ended up bearing a grudge."
Eric offered to support her if needed but she declined, although did so with an appreciative smile.
"Eric, start with the most recent and work backwards."
The constable nodded and followed Janet back along the corridor. Justin, sensing Tom wanted to speak with him alone, held back. Once his mother was out of earshot, Justin made to speak but struggled to assemble the words. In the end, Tom spoke first.
"You're worried about your mother, aren't you?" he asked. It was a question that didn't need asking for it was obvious but by way of an icebreaker, it worked.
"Absolutely, yes. I mean, wouldn't you be?"
Tom nodded.
"Do you think this is really all about my aunt's activism?"
"You're not convinced?"
"It's not that, not really," Justin said, his eyebrows knitting together. "It's just that… she's been so heavily involved in environmental issues… over the years, that it just seems odd that it's now. I mean, there's nothing new that I'm aware of. Certainly nothing that would lead to an outcome such as this. Unless…"
"Unless?" Tom asked. Justin met his eye.
"Unless… she was keeping something from us."
Tom waited patiently to see if he would say anything more. Perhaps the suggestion might tease a memory from the back of his mind he hadn't felt important until now. Nothing was forthcoming.
"Can I ask a personal question related to your family?"
"Yes, of course. Ask away."
"Your mother… living here with her sister as they do," Tom said, "how did that—"
"Come about?" Tom nodded.
"My father passed away a number of years ago. I was in my early thirties at the time, an only child," he said, tilting his head to one side. "Mother didn't cope well. My father was always one to handle the finances, all of their affairs really, whereas my mother ran the house. As it turned out, my old man didn't have the nous required to handle money. It would appear I'm not a chip off the old block."
"You work in finance?"
"Yes, yes. Risk assessment mainly. I manage financial risk for a credit broker. It's not very interesting but it pays the bills," he said with a smile.
Now the flushed cheeks had settled since his arrival, Justin Howell looked older than his years. He may manage finances well but it would appear he wasn't as competent when it came to managing stress.
"Anyway," Justin continued, "when my father died it left Mother in a bit of a bind. The life insurance wasn't quite what we believed it to be and, once all was said and done with the estate, Mother wasn't left with much. Miriam and I weren't in a position to help. We were just starting out. Aunt Mary lived here." He gestured in a circular motion with his hand, indicating the house. "She allowed Mother to move back in with her. Up until that point, she'd only been rattling around in this place all by herself. It was a pleasant fit."
"You said your aunt never married. Is this the family home?"
"Oh yes, absolutely. This old place has been in the family's possession for four generations."
"There must be wealth in that side of the family then," Tom said. "If you don't mind me asking?"
Justin shook his head. "Significant wealth, yes. At least our ancestors were incredibly privileged. As a family, we are quite proud of our heritage. I think that's why Mother reverted to her maiden name, probably at the request of Aunt Mary – looking back. Howell never sat well with mother, or my aunt for that matter." Tom found that curious but didn't question it. Those of a certain generation tended to stick with their married name regardless, in his experience, even if the marriage ended in an acrimonious dispute. He dismissed the thought as Justin continued. "However, as is often the way with these things, as said wealth is passed down the line it only has to come into the hands of one or two colourful characters to have a detrimental impact on the prospects of future generations." He looked around as if he could see through the walls to the exterior. "The estate used to be far more substantial than it is now, you know. Much of the land nearby, stretching up to that of the Bayfield used to be farmed and managed by our family. Those were the days!"
Tom smiled at the comment.
"Are there other siblings? Or your aunt, I'm presuming she didn't have any children."
"No, no, it's just Aunt Mary here. She was the eldest of the two. Grandpa never said so, at least not as far as I know, but he resented the fact he only managed to sire daughters. He loved them, don't get me wrong, it's just that he always wanted a son to carry forward the family name. He was very traditional in that respect."
"Is that why Mary inherited the house?"
Justin's expression cut a rueful smile. "Very astute, Inspector."
Tom inclined his head. "I'm a detective. It goes with the warrant card."
"Yes, Aunt Mary, being the eldest, inherited Grandpa's estate in its entirety. I should imagine that was one reason she never felt the pressure to marry, such as it was. She was a… formidable woman, you might say. Downright stubborn is another description! I wasn't aware of her infatuation – that's a little presumptuous of me – I wasn't aware of her love affair with this David fellow. I've often wondered if her tastes were leaning in a different direction altogether. Hearing all of this casts her in a rather different light now. Perhaps she never met anyone who made her feel that way again. Sad really, isn't it?"
"I agree," Tom said, raising his eyebrows. "Although I would like to think there is more than one person out there for each of us."
"Just not at the same time," Justin said, raising his own eyebrows in reply.
"Hopefully not. Come on, let's return to the others. I appreciate your candour, Mr Howell."
Chapter Five
"Okay, Eric, talk me through the list of possible suspec
ts," Tom said, placing a cup of coffee and a small brown paper bag on the desk in front of the constable. Eric's eyes lit up and he opened the bag, keenly examining the contents. It was a cinnamon bun, topped with sticky icing, and Eric's favourite accompaniment to a takeaway coffee. Judging by the files surrounding him and the slightly dishevelled overall appearance, it would seem as if Eric had been beavering away for a few hours already.
Tom found a ball of paper in his pocket, reminding him of the previous night. By the time they'd finished at the Becketts' house and he'd made it home to Alice and Saffy, the two of them were already sound asleep. He found a scribbled note pinned to the fridge door by a magnet, one of the ones Saffy collected the tokens for and they'd sent away. The note was signed by both of them, letting him know there was still food set aside for him in the fridge. Alice had made a pasta sauce after all. Unfurling the paper in his hand, the smiley face, a Saffy original motif, and the kisses ensured he didn't throw it in the bin. Smoothing the note out, he folded it and returned it to his pocket.
Hanging his coat by the door, he sipped at his own coffee as he pulled out a chair. He could see Eric deliberating over whether or not he could manage a bite now or should he wait to finish the briefing. He chose the latter, turning over the lip of the bag and instead making do with the coffee. Tom's own drink had sufficiently cooled since he'd picked them up from his favourite haunt, and Eric certainly looked like he needed the caffeine hit.
"What time did you come in this morning?" Tom asked, glancing at the clock. It was only half past seven.
"Oh… you know, I always struggle to sleep when we're in the early stages of a case."
"You should be careful of that, young man."
Eric swallowed another mouthful of coffee, waving away Tom's concern for his welfare.
"It's just my mind was buzzing with all the possibilities that Janet Beckett threw our way last night. I remembered some of the campaigns Mary was involved with locally. Not that I could recall her involvement, but it got me thinking. And whenever I've got a lot on my mind, churning things over in my head, I end up really restless and…"
The Dead Call: A chilling British detective crime thriller (The Hidden Norfolk Murder Mystery Series Book 6) Page 4
