Murder in the Fens: An utterly gripping English cozy mystery novel (A Tara Thorpe Mystery Book 4)

by Clare Chase

  She slunk up behind him. ‘Boo!’

  ‘Bloody hell.’ He kissed her on both cheeks. ‘You’ve just reminded me in a microsecond of why we broke up. Too many shocks to the system.’

  She smiled. They’d got together a year after she’d started her degree. A year after she’d moved away from home, and eighteen months after her stalker had suddenly stopped their campaign. Kemp had been a periodic visitor to their halls of residence and Tara had occasionally practised her self-defence skills on Josh…

  ‘How’s Theresa? And the babes?’ Josh and his wife had two-year-old twins.

  ‘Thriving. Noisy. Sleepless.’

  ‘Is that your wife or the kids?’

  He laughed. ‘All of them.’

  ‘What can I get you?’

  Josh scanned the taps. ‘A pint of the Brew House stout please.’ He gave her a smile. ‘You’ll want something soft, I suppose. Ever miss being a journalist?’

  ‘Working for Not Now was too high a price to pay for the odd lunchtime snifter. Besides, I never can drink in the day without falling asleep.’ She put in their order, choosing a bottle of Nanny State – a low-alcohol craft beer – for herself.

  Just as the bartender had finished topping Josh’s stout up, she spotted a couple at a table for two gathering their coats, and made her way over to take their place. As she crossed the room, she wondered who’d chosen the green for the walls. Even if she’d gone for an alcoholic beer, the bright paintwork would have kept her alert.

  ‘So, what gives?’ Josh said as they sat down.

  Tara was glad of the hubbub around them. ‘I’m working on a murder. The student Julie Cooper – she was about to go into her third year at St Oswald’s College. Sir Alistair Lockwood’s master there.’

  Josh frowned, his wavy hair falling over one eye. ‘I remember that. So it’s Lockwood’s you’re interested in?’

  ‘Julie spent a lot of time campaigning against them.’

  ‘Tactless, given that he was master of her college.’

  ‘She obviously really minded about the causes she supported – there were no half measures as far as she was concerned. And we’ve also been told she was hoping for a career in journalism. Between ourselves’ – she knew she could trust him – ‘it looks as though she was spending hours on end researching Lockwood’s. I mean, she had other corporates in her sights too, but there must have been something special about her college master’s company. It made me wonder whether she’d got wind of something big.’

  Tara pulled her phone out of her trouser pocket and opened up copies of the photos Julie had taken of the Lockwood cat. ‘She’d got these on her phone when she died.’

  Josh took the mobile from her and peered at the image, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses further up his nose. ‘God, what an ugly ornament.’

  She explained what Sir Alistair had told her about it. ‘Symbolises family loyalty and love, apparently.’

  ‘Nice! I’m glad I don’t come from that sort of clan.’

  ‘Me too.’ She might find her mother difficult, but she’d take her over the Lockwoods any day of the week.

  ‘So, when did Julie take those photos? Do we know?’

  Tara nodded. ‘The date stamp on them matches a day when she had legitimate access to the Master’s Lodge. She was there to attend a party for students a year ago, but she’d still have had to go searching to find the cat. And I can’t imagine that it was a family heirloom she was looking for when she sneaked into their private rooms.’

  ‘You think she hoped to find something on the company?’

  Tara sipped her Nanny State. ‘I wondered.’

  ‘She might have – but only if she was very naive. And if she was in the habit of homing in on corporates, I doubt that would be the case.’

  ‘You mean there’s no chance Sir Alistair or anyone else involved would have left sensitive documents around the Master’s Lodge – and Julie would have realised that?’ It was a good point. But then again, you got cabinet ministers being photographed holding confidential papers that could be enlarged and read – and company employees leaving their laptops on trains. People did make mistakes.

  ‘Well, I think Sir Alistair and his family would be extremely careful, if they were expecting an influx of students – especially as they’ve courted controversy recently, and young people have been the most active in protesting against them. But it’s not just that. There’s almost nothing Julie Cooper could have found that would stick.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  Josh leant forward over the table and opened up a web browser. ‘Name me any corporate. I’ll type them into Google, add the word scandal, and see what we get.’

  Tara played the game. Example after example produced pages and pages of results.

  He met her eye. ‘Those stories are all about household names, right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And how many were you already aware of?’

  ‘A couple?’

  He nodded. ‘And I can see you’re surprised. A lot of what we’ve just dug up ought to be massive stories, but by and large they pass off before long, without any major impact on the firms.’

  ‘Some of those fines look pretty huge.’ She nodded down at the last lot of headline links Josh had called up.

  ‘Sure. To us. But each of these companies will have teams of accountants and lawyers working out just how much it would cost them to behave honourably versus how much they’ll have to pay if they cut corners but then get found out. And evidently it’s often cheaper to do the latter.’

  ‘That’s seriously what you think?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. If your Julie had got a whiff of a scandal – even if it was something major – I’d say there’s no way it would be a motive for killing her. Anyone from Lockwood’s would simply have called their lawyer. If corporates ran about committing cold-blooded murder each time they got into trouble, there’d be an awful lot of victims.’

  ‘Any ideas why Julie might have been so interested in the ornamental cat?’

  Josh shrugged. ‘It would be a good visual to go with a story if Julie had been planning to publish something. It gives the impression of a fierce family who only care about their own. And articles on corporate wrongdoing can be a bit dry. The cat would add interest. Convey the impression of a family dynasty, perhaps.’ He downed a slug of his stout and shivered as a crowd came into the pub, leaving the door open. ‘But who knows? She might just have marvelled at how horrible it was and snapped a pic for her own amusement. Still, the way she included a close-up of the coat of arms and the motto suggests she wanted to know more about it.’

  Tara sighed and sat back in her chair. ‘Julie was – apparently – in a relationship of some kind with Sir Alistair’s son. Not the one that works for the business, but a younger one who’s an academic at the university. I half wondered if she could have found something out from him. But to be honest, everyone’s implying that he had very little contact with the rest of the family, let alone the company.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound likely then. And unless Julie had evidence of Sir Alistair killing someone with his bare hands, I just can’t see him being your man.’

  Forty-Two

  ‘Take your time, Louise.’

  She was already wishing she hadn’t come. The face of her tutor, Lucien Balfour, kept appearing in her mind’s eye. She’d probably misunderstood what she’d overheard. And even if she hadn’t, it probably didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t at all likely to be related to what had happened to Julie. On top of all that, if she shared her worries with the counsellor sitting opposite her, the woman wouldn’t be able to help anyway.

  It was down to Louise. She took a deep breath. ‘I just miss Julie.’

  She was playing for time. The truth was they’d all been knocked sideways by the news of what had happened, but she hadn’t known Julie well. Her feelings of horror, and the sleepless nights since, were down to a general pity that you’d feel for anyone, coupled with fear. I
t made you release how precarious life was. How you could be rushing round one minute – following your dreams, hooking up with friends, handing in an essay – and then you were gone. She kept thinking of Julie’s mother. She’d seen her once or twice – visiting and dropping Julie off at the start of the second year. Her face haunted Louise’s dreams.

  But overlaid on top of that was the exchange she’d witnessed between Lucien Balfour and Julie. That and the way their tutor had looked at Louise that morning. He’d come out with his explanation – and it might have been true. It fitted with the words she’d heard. But then why check her reaction? Was he just scared because he realised she might have got the wrong impression? Or scared in case she’d got exactly the right one – and understood just the sort of man he was?

  ‘That’s understandable,’ the counsellor said. ‘And I expect you’re dealing with other emotions too. What’s happened is very frightening, for instance. You mustn’t feel bad if your thoughts aren’t just about missing Julie and what she suffered. Most people picture themselves or their loved ones going through similar events.’

  Louise couldn’t speak. She’d done that. And she felt guilty about it. But since this morning she’d not only imagined being attacked, and fighting for her life, she’d put Lucien in the role of her killer.

  But even if he was lying – trying to cover up the truth behind his conversation with Julie – it didn’t mean to say he was her attacker. He’d be scared, whether he was guilty or just looked that way.

  ‘You don’t have to tell me,’ the counsellor said. ‘The important thing is that you explore your feelings, even if it’s only in your head. But if you can share what’s on your mind, you might find your thoughts start to slot into place.’

  ‘You won’t tell anyone what I say?’ Louise was surprised to hear herself speak. The thought and words had come at exactly the same moment.

  ‘That’s right.’ The counsellor smiled. ‘The only time we ever have to break that promise is if we’re required to for legal reasons, or we believe staying quiet might put you or another person in danger.’

  So many exceptions to the rule. And this was Cambridge: a small city where everyone knew someone who knew someone. The woman opposite her could be Lucien’s next-door neighbour or his girlfriend for all she knew.

  ‘I’m worried.’ Louise felt her eyes prickle. She mustn’t cry. ‘I-I overheard something.’

  The look on the counsellor’s face had changed. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been attentive before, but there was a new alertness in her eyes now. ‘Okay. Maybe if you talk to me about what that was, you might feel clearer on what to do next. Telling me doesn’t commit you to anything.’

  Louise swallowed. ‘I heard a member of staff at my college talking to Julie at the end of last term.’

  The counsellor nodded, making her bobbed hair swing forward. Louise couldn’t take her eyes off it as she spoke. ‘It was at a social gathering, organised by the member of staff – after exams, so the wine was flowing.’ She could see the scene in her head – several students, all enjoying the free food and drink on offer. They were mostly talking to each other, but Lucien was doing the rounds. He’d spoken to her and asked about her year. She was quite convinced he couldn’t remember who she was. ‘I think a few people there had got a bit drunk. Including the member of staff.’ She shook her head. ‘He wasn’t slurring or staggering or anything like that. But you know how some people get a bit more forceful when they’ve got a drink or two inside them?’

  The counsellor was nodding, but Louise had a feeling she didn’t. Louise did though. Her father was a fighting drunk. The sight of the hardness in Lucien’s eyes had reminded her of him for a moment. That was what had put her on high alert. All the other partygoers were relaxed, out for a good time, but Louise couldn’t switch off.

  ‘At one point, everyone was distracted by a commotion out on the lawn, just down below Lu—’ She stopped. She’d almost said his name. ‘Down below the member of staff’s window. Some people down there had been partying too, and they’d gone onto the grass. One of the fellows was telling them off. The students outside all had water pistols, so most people in the room were treating it as cabaret.’

  She hadn’t been near the window herself. The popular, confident crowd were all gathered round, laughing. There’d been no room to get close.

  ‘The member of staff was at the back of the room, talking to Julie. I’d hung back too and when I turned round…’

  ‘What, Louise? You’ll probably feel better to get it off your chest.’

  ‘The member of staff was sort of looming over Julie. He had his hand on her shoulder, and it looked as though he was gripping her; it wasn’t just a soft touch.’

  The counsellor nodded. Louise could see the seriousness in her eyes.

  ‘He was saying, “Oh come on, Julie. Think of what I’ve done for you. I assumed you’d realise that one good turn deserves another.” His voice was quiet but firm.’ He’d sounded threatening.

  ‘Can you remember what Julie said or did in response?’

  ‘She shook him off. She sort of ducked down very suddenly and twisted her shoulder sharply to one side. Lu— The member of staff swore and stepped back slightly. Julie’s eyes were furious. I wonder if he thought she might lash out at him.’ Louise met the counsellor’s gaze. ‘And as he pulled away, he turned slightly and caught sight of me watching them. The other students were all still by the window, whooping and cheering the water fight down below.’

  ‘Did either Julie or the member of staff say anything to you?’

  She shook her head. ‘The member of staff turned back towards Julie and said: “I’m sorry. I lost my temper for a moment there, but you do try my patience. You’ll have to watch your behaviour next year.” He sounded more like a normal member of staff then. He’d taken control of himself.’

  Then she told the counsellor about the explanation the tutor had given the group of students that morning.

  ‘Did you ever ask Julie about the incident?’ The counsellor sat forward.

  Louise couldn’t hold back the tears then. Guilt had been making her insides twist ever since she’d heard the news of Julie’s death. ‘No.’ The counsellor passed her a box of tissues. ‘I was too shy. I think I thought she’d got it covered, because she was always so confident.’

  ‘And now you’re even more troubled because you don’t know what to do?’

  Louise nodded. Except, of course, the counsellor had been right about the effect of their session. Now Louise had spoken the words aloud, she did know what to do.

  Forty-Three

  Blake was sitting next to Megan, on a stool, at an expensive-looking island worktop in the kitchen of the Master’s Lodge. They’d arrived to find that only Lady Lockwood was in. But that suited his purposes well.

  He decided to begin whilst she was still preparing the drinks she’d offered. If he caught her off balance, so much the better. ‘Can you tell us, please, why you called your son, the night he died?’

  There was a moment when the only sound in the room was that of Veronica Lockwood putting coffee cups down on the worktop next to the Aga. Blake could see her face side-on. It was expressionless.

  She didn’t look at them when she spoke. She was pouring thick dark coffee from the stove-top espresso maker into tiny red cups. ‘You can bypass number-withheld calls, can you? I wondered if you might.’

  Blake met her eye as she passed him and Megan their cups. ‘Why did you hide your identity?’

  She took a deep breath. ‘John would never have taken the call if he’d known it was me. I was hoping he’d be curious enough to pick up, rather than assuming it was a sales call.’

  ‘And he did.’ Blake knew the duration of the call.

  She nodded as she perched on a stool at right angles to them. ‘It was quite late at night. It’s possible he was too far gone to even register what came up on the handset. Either way, I thought it would maximise my chances of a conversation.’
r />   ‘He’s not normally keen to talk to you then?’

  She cocked her head to one side. ‘Do you have children, Inspector?’

  Blake hated it when interviewees asked him anything personal. Even admitting to Kitty and Jessica’s existence felt as though he was somehow leaving them unprotected. ‘Yes.’ He left her to imagine the details.

  ‘Whatever age they are, it’s not uncommon for them to kick against authority – and that includes their parents.’ He could see anger in her face, much more than sorrow. He was looking for the latter, but she kept it well hidden. She was of that breed – the sort who are taught to button up their emotions nice and tight. Stiff upper lip. ‘I found John’s lifestyle hard to take. He might have been in his thirties, but my desire to try to influence his behaviour didn’t die when he reached maturity.’

  Her cold eyes were on his. He couldn’t help wondering if she minded more about her son, or the effect his actions might have on the family reputation.

  ‘What made you ring him on Sunday night?’

  Her eyes opened a fraction wider as she watched him over the top of her coffee cup. She might as well have called him a fool to his face – he could read her look loud and clear. ‘As you’re now aware, we’d heard that he’d been…’ she paused, ‘seeing Julie Cooper. Then I got the news about her death. I imagined the poor fool would be devastated. I wanted to speak to him, whatever our issues. Blood is thicker than water, after all, and I hoped to get him to talk. I asked him to come and stay here at the lodge. Under the circumstances it was no time for him to be alone.’ Her eyes were on his again. ‘I was proved correct on that score. He refused to come, of course.’