‘Room service, madam.’
She blinked and looked up at him, taking in his pose, the tray. She shot up in bed. ‘Darling!’ And as he lowered it onto her lap, ‘Breakfast in bed! What a luxury! Thank you.’ She raised her face for a kiss and Thanet obliged with alacrity, breathing in the warm, sleepy smell of her skin and regretting the impulse that had driven him early out of bed to prepare her breakfast before leaving for work. But the appreciation on Joan’s face as she surveyed the carefully laid tray reassured him that it had been the right thing to do, and he surveyed his handiwork with satisfaction: flowered traycloth, best bone china, chilled orange juice, a pot of freshly ground coffee (decaffeinated, Joan’s latest fad) and a hot croissant.
‘No red rose in single holder, I’m afraid,’ he said in mock apology. ‘It would have dripped all over the place.’
She glanced at the rain streaming down the window-panes. ‘A wet Sunday. Horrid. Still, at least it makes it not quite so bad that you’ve got to go to work.’
‘True.’
‘Are the children up?’
‘Still asleep, I think.’
‘They can have a lie-in. As long as they’re up in time for church …’
Thanet kissed her goodbye and peeped into the children’s rooms. Humped shapes slumbered on. He smiled indulgently, closing the doors softly behind him. It would do them good to sleep late for once.
As he drove through the deserted streets he remembered what it was that had woken him up so early: the knowledge that in his sleep he had been dreaming, and that the dream had been trying to tell him something important, something to do with the Tarrant case. He had struggled to reach back into it, to fix it in his memory before it faded, but he was already too late, it had gone. What had it been about? He frowned, trying to remember. Briefly, a green image flickered across his mind, and was gone. What had it been? Garden, field, wood, park, landscape? Mentally, he shrugged. Perhaps it would come back later, when he wasn’t thinking about it.
On the way up to his office he ran into DS Bristow.
‘Thanks for the tip, sir. We nailed him!’
‘Buzzard?’
‘Yes. Would you believe it, one or two juicy little items from Thursday’s robbery tucked away under a loose floorboard! They never learn.’
‘Good. That’s excellent. Make sure some credit goes to the PC from traffic, who spotted him in the first place.’
‘Of course, sir.’
‘What time was the robbery committed?’
‘Between four and half past, on Thursday afternoon. Does that clear him, as far as your case is concerned?’
‘I doubt it. The trouble is, we still haven’t been able to pinpoint the exact time of the murder.’
The phone was ringing as Thanet entered his office: Tarrant, again enquiring for news of Damon. It was obvious that by now the surgeon was really worried about his son.
‘Isn’t there anything else you can do?’
‘I assure you, sir, that everything that can be done is being done. And I promise that the moment we have any news of him, we’ll let you know.’
By now Thanet was himself becoming concerned about the boy. Considering the amount of publicity it really was becoming very difficult to believe that Damon hadn’t heard of his mother’s death. And if so, why hadn’t he been in touch?
Thanet was still studying a large-scale map of the area when Lineham arrived.
‘Morning, Mike.’
‘Morning, sir. You’re looking very cheerful today. Don’t tell me you’ve had one of your bright ideas overnight.’
‘No such luck, I’m afraid.’
The phone again. Daphne Linacre, this time, also enquiring about Damon.
‘Still no news of him, then?’ said Lineham, when Thanet had crashed the receiver down in a thoroughly disgruntled mood at having had to communicate the same bad news twice in ten minutes to anxious relatives.
Thanet shook his head.
Lineham evidently considered it politic to change the subject. ‘What are you doing with that?’ He nodded at the map.
Thanet told him, and for a while they discussed whether or not it might have been possible for Buzzard to have committed the murder either before or after his foray to Nettleton. On balance, Thanet was inclined to dismiss him as a suspect.
‘I can’t really see him committing a murder, then calmly going on to do a robbery ten miles away. Or vice versa. I should have thought his main aim would have been to put as much distance as possible as quickly as possible, between himself and the scene of either crime.’
‘I agree.’
‘Anyway, it’s time we were leaving for Ribbleden, to see Nicky Barnes. I’ve arranged for WPC Fernley to come with us.’
A woman police officer has to be present when a child is interviewed.
‘Right, sir.’
Even on the main road there was very little traffic about and after turning off into the country lanes they had the drowned countryside to themselves. Ribbleden looked as though it had decided to turn its back on the weather; doors and windows were firmly shut and apart from a bedraggled paper boy there was not a soul about. Not everyone was lying in bed late, though; a number of cars lined the road outside the church.
‘Must have an early service,’ said Lineham.
‘They have to stagger them. The vicar has four parishes to look after, I believe.’
‘How on earth does he manage at festivals?’
‘With difficulty, I imagine. I was talking to one country parson last year and he told me he’d conducted ten harvest festivals at different churches, schools and organisations.’
‘I should think he was ploughing the fields and scattering in his sleep,’ said Lineham with a grin.
They drew up at the gates of High Gables but before Lineham could get out to open them a small wet figure emerged from the shelter of a tall shrub and performed the task for him.
‘Nicky, I presume,’ said Thanet. ‘Waiting for us, obviously. Stop when we’re inside.’
The car drove in and Thanet wound down his window, waited for the boy to approach. ‘You must be Nicky. I’m Inspector Thanet, and this is Woman Police-Constable Fernley and Detective-Sergeant Lineham. Want a ride?’
Nicky nodded eagerly. He was well equipped for the weather in hooded anorak and wellington boots. He clambered into the back and leaned into the gap between the front seats, dripping water everywhere.
‘Ever been in a police car before?’
‘No.’
Thanet explained how the radio worked. ‘There are two frequencies, one for transmitting, the other for reception. Those pips you hear mean that someone in another patrol car is talking to the control room …’
After they drew up outside the back door Thanet spent several more minutes chatting to the boy. If the ice was broken it would be far easier to get Nicky to open up to him, if there was anything to tell. Besides, he liked boys, was used to having them around. Ben’s friends were always in and out of each other’s houses. Not, he thought, that there were any signs of this one being difficult to handle. His expression was open, alert, and he was clearly storing up every word in order to impress his friends.
‘We’d better go in, I suppose,’ Thanet said at last. ‘I expect your mum will have seen us arrive and she’ll be wondering where we’ve got to.’
‘OK.’ Nicky scrambled out, reluctantly.
They had arranged that Lineham would wait in the car; three police officers, they agreed, might be a little overwhelming for the boy. Nicky led them into the kitchen where Thanet had first met the old lady and her companion.
Marilyn Barnes was alone. ‘I’ve arranged for Lavinia to have coffee with Mr Tarrant,’ she said, noticing Thanet’s enquiring glance around the room. ‘I thought it would be easier.’
‘Good idea.’
‘I made some for us. You’d like a cup, I expect.’
‘Thank you.’ Thanet introduced Jessica Fernley and they all sat down. He waited until the c
offee had been poured and then turned to Nicky, who was watching him expectantly.
‘Now then, Nicky, I expect your mum’s told you what we want to talk about.’
‘Thursday afternoon,’ said the boy promptly.
He was of average height for his age, and rather thin, with bony elbows and narrow wrists, his very short hair emphasising the shape of skull and jawline. The brown eyes so like his mother’s were eager and intelligent.
‘That’s right. Now I know one of my men has interviewed you already, so I’ll just explain why it is I need to talk to you again. As I’m sure you know, after a major crime like this, we have to spend a lot of time building up a picture of exactly what happened in the period leading up to it. It’s very painstaking work, rather like putting together a huge jigsaw puzzle, and the pieces are supplied by all the people we talk to. The trouble is, some of them can be pretty vague, but in the end, by checking one person’s version with another’s we usually manage to fit it all together. But it is often necessary to see people more than once – take your mother, for instance.’ He glanced at Marilyn. ‘I’ve talked to you several times, haven’t I?’
She nodded. ‘To most of us, I should think.’
‘The other thing, of course, is we often find that after people have had time to think they remember things they didn’t the first time around.’
Nicky was nodding sagely.
‘But I must emphasise that I want you to try to remember everything, every single thing, that you saw and did on Thursday afternoon after you got home from school, from the moment you walked through the gate – I assume you came in the back way, along the footpath? – right up to the time you left to stay with your friends.’
‘Everything?’
‘Everything. Step by step. I’ll try not to interrupt too much. Close your eyes, if you like, if it would make it easier.’
But that wouldn’t be necessary, Thanet could tell. Already Nicky’s eyes were glazing in recollection.
‘Now, you got home at about a quarter to four, I believe?’ He waited for the boy’s nod. ‘And it was very hot. Was there anyone about, in the garden?’
‘No. I came along the footpath and in through the gate in the back fence, like you said, then through the garden and across the drive to the back door. I was thirsty … Is this the sort of thing you mean?’
‘Yes, exactly. Go on.’
‘There was no one in here, so I made myself a drink of squash. Then Mum came in, with Mrs Tarrant – old Mrs Tarrant, that is. She, Mrs Tarrant, was in a state and Mum was trying to calm her down, so I grabbed an apple and went out to play.’
‘Did you go to a friend’s house, or stay in the garden?’
‘I stayed in the garden.’
The flow of information seemed to have come to an abrupt halt. Why?
‘So what did you do, in the garden?’
Nicky glanced at his mother. ‘I … er …’
‘Well?’ said Marilyn, breaking in impatiently. ‘You what?’
‘I went to my den,’ he mumbled.
At once Thanet understood. This was the boy’s secret place and he didn’t want his mother to know about it. A glance at Marilyn Barnes told him that she had also cottoned on.
She rose, ‘I think I’d better just pop along to see Lavinia for a moment, Nicky. You’ll be all right?’
He couldn’t hide his relief. ‘Yeah, sure.’
As soon as the door had closed behind her Thanet said, ‘I had a den, too, when I was a boy. It was crammed in between the back of the garden shed and the hedge – our garden wasn’t anything like as big as yours. I got hold of some old planks, and a bit of corrugated iron for the roof … No one was allowed in there unless they were invited. It was my own special, private place … I expect yours is the same.’
‘Yes.’ Nicky lowered his voice, glanced at the door. ‘Mum doesn’t even know where it is.’
I shouldn’t be too sure of that, thought Thanet. ‘Look, Nicky, I don’t want to pry into your secrets, I really don’t. And I promise that if you tell me roughly where it is, I won’t tell a soul, neither of us will, not without your permission, anyway.’
He glanced at WPC Fernley, who shook her head vigorously. ‘Of course not.’
Nicky shrugged. ‘OK. It’s over behind the coach house, in some big bushes.’
‘Far behind?’
‘A fair way. A hundred yards or so, I suppose.’
Thanet wasn’t sure if this estimate could be trusted. Distances are difficult to estimate, especially where there are trees and shrubs about.
‘Can you hear any sounds from the coach house?’
‘Not really, no. Unless there are people talking in the garden at the back.’
‘And were there?’
‘No. Miss Linacre was at work, anyway, till later.’
‘We’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves. Can we go back to when you first went out, just before four o’clock. You went straight across to your den?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you see anyone on the way?’
‘Only Mrs Haywood. She was just going into the coach house as I came out of our back door.’
That fitted, Thanet thought. Beatrix Haywood had told them that after overhearing the row between Nerine and her mother-in-law she had hung about in the attic for a further ten minutes or so before returning to the coach house, for fear of meeting either of the protagonists.
‘Did she see you?’
‘No. She had her back to me.’
‘Then what? Go on. You’re doing very well.’
Nicky looked pleased. ‘The next thing was that just as I got to my den I heard Vicky drive away.’
Vicky of the Benetton jeans. ‘How did you know it was Vicky if you were that far away?’ Thanet could guess the answer, but it was best to take nothing for granted.
‘I know the sound of her Fiesta.’
‘Right. So then what did you do?’
‘I’ve been trying to construct the walls – you know, weaving branches in and out.’ He pulled a face. ‘It’s not as easy as it sounds.’
Thanet grinned. ‘I know, I’ve tried it myself … So you were moving about, I expect, fetching branches … Or did you have a pile already gathered?’
‘No, I was moving about, like you said.’
‘So, and I want you to think very carefully, did you see anyone about, at any point, while you were working?’
Nicky shook his head regretfully. ‘No, sorry.’
‘Never mind. What happened next?’
‘I heard the bell, for tea … The garden’s so big I often didn’t hear Mum when she used to call me, so now she comes to the back door and rings that.’ Nicky nodded at an old-fashioned hand-bell which stood on the windowsill by the sink. ‘No, hang on … Was it before, or after …?’ His forehead creased as he tried to remember. ‘No, it was before, I remember now … A few minutes before the bell rang I heard Miss Linacre arrive home – I know the sound of all the cars.’
‘That would have been at about twenty to five?’
‘Yes.’
Again, it fitted.
‘And a few minutes afterwards, you heard your mother ring the bell. Did you go in straight away?’
‘No. I was in the middle of a tricky bit, and I wanted to get it finished.’
‘And that would have taken how long?’
‘Another five minutes or so. Then I came back to the house. I saw Miss Linacre going into the coach house as I came out onto the drive.’
Suppressing the sudden flare of excitement Thanet kept his tone carefully casual as he said, ‘Going in, you say?’
Nicky nodded. ‘I thought she must have gone out to fetch something she’d left in the car.’
‘You saw her come away from the car?’
‘Oh, no, just go into the house. Anyway, then I came back here and had my tea.’ He grinned. ‘It was hamburgers.’
‘Your favourite, by the sound of it … Then what?’
‘Mum went t
o get Mrs Tarrant up from her rest, and,’ he grimaced, ‘I washed up the tea things. While I was at the sink I saw Damon go across to the coach house.’
Again, this was news but once more Thanet betrayed no special interest. ‘That would have been at what time?’
Nicky frowned. ‘Twenty, twenty-five past five, I suppose.’
‘Did he go in?’
‘Yes. The front door was open. They often leave it open in the hot weather.’
‘Did he seem in a hurry? I’m only asking, because as you know, Damon’s disappearance is a bit of a mystery, and very few people seem to have seen him that afternoon.’
‘You don’t think …?’
‘That he had anything to do with his mother’s death? No, not for a moment. But we are afraid that he might be rather upset, and we’re anxious to find him.’
‘No, he didn’t seem to be in a hurry. He didn’t stay, though. He was only in there a minute or two and he came out again, back to the house.’
‘How did he seem?’
Nicky shrugged. ‘On the way back he was walking slowly, with his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground. Then, as he got nearer the house, he suddenly speeded up. Mum and Mrs Tarrant came in then and I’d finished my washing up, so I went back out to the den. Not long afterwards I heard Damon drive off – his car makes a terrific din – and then, only a minute or two later, Mr Tarrant came home. Soon after that all the fuss began, and Mum rang Mrs Rice and she came to fetch me.’
Thanet nodded with satisfaction. ‘Well Nicky, all I can say is that I wish all witnesses were as concise and as helpful as you.’
On cue the door opened and Marilyn came in. Perhaps she had been waiting tactfully outside? Thanet turned to her. ‘I was just saying how helpful Nicky had been, Miss Barnes. Thank you for letting me talk to him.’
‘Oh, good.’ But she didn’t sound too sure. ‘You’ve finished, now?’
‘Yes, we have.’ Thanet rose and WPC Fernley closed her notebook and followed suit.
‘Oh, just one small point, Miss Barnes. Could we confirm the time at which you called Nicky in for tea?’
‘A quarter to five,’ she said promptly. ‘I always call him at a quarter to five.’
‘Thank you.’
Element of Doubt Page 21
