Next Door to Murder

by Anthea Fraser

  ‘And how,’ he asked drily, ‘do you propose I should do that?’

  ‘Make a bit of an effort. Apologize for being so bloody offhand. And now –’ she rose to her feet – ‘I’m leaving the room, before you throw something!’

  Despite Tess’s assurances, acceding to her request for an interview had not lessened the attentions of the press. The doorbell rang repeatedly, and Rona tried to ignore it. The phone kept ringing, and she let the machine take it, vowing to delete the messages without playing them.

  How, she wondered in despair, was she supposed to work with all this going on, and while she was so worried about Louise? She considered going to Oak Avenue, but in the absence of both Felicity and Julian, it would be imposing on the family at what, for them too, was an anxious time. All in all, she was glad she’d an appointment at the police station; it would at least offer a means of escape.

  Yet for all their importunities, the press didn’t disturb her as much as the comings and goings next door. From time to time during the morning, she was drawn to the bedroom window where, screened by the curtain, she could see the figures in white going up and down the path. Had they, she wondered, found anything that could conceivably help find Louise?

  At eleven forty-five, she’d no option but to brave the press. Though normally she’d have walked to the police station, today the car would afford at least some protection. But first she had to get to the garage. Clipping on Gus’s lead, she took a deep breath and opened the front door.

  Max was waiting for her in the foyer.

  ‘Were you molested by the press?’ he asked, kissing her cheek.

  ‘Moderately, but I took a leaf out of your book, and kept walking. Tess Chadwick gained entry, though.’

  ‘Oh, God!’

  ‘She promised to keep the rest at bay, but failed to deliver.’

  ‘You gave her the story?’

  ‘A slightly edited version. Who knows, it might even help.’

  The typewritten joint statement was produced, and again they both read and signed it. Then a man they hadn’t seen before approached them.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Allerdyce, good morning. I’m DI Webster, and I’m hoping you can help us. We’ve come up against a couple of problems; firstly, we’ve been unable to trace any next of kin for the victims – other, of course, than Miss Franks. Would you have any idea who we should contact?’

  Rona hesitated. She’d already told them about the mysterious Karen; it was up to them whether or not they followed it up. ‘I’m afraid not,’ she said.

  ‘Well, it was worth a try. Fortunately, their bank manager has agreed to identify them, if we continue to draw a blank. And our other problem is that there don’t seem to be any photographs of Miss Franks, or, for that matter, any credit cards, driving licence, or NHS records in her name.’

  ‘She told me her passport’s in the bank,’ Rona said, surprised they’d not asked the manager.

  DI Webster looked at her oddly. ‘Unfortunately, it seems not.’ He hesitated, as though he would enlarge on that, but decided against it. ‘So, since you seem to be the only person who’s seen her, we’re hoping you’ll agree to do a photofit. It would be an enormous help.’

  Rona nodded. ‘Of course I will.’

  He led them to one of the small rooms off the foyer, and they seated themselves in front of a computer screen. Rona watched, fascinated, as under her direction, an oval roughly the shape of Louise’s face was furnished with a thick dark fringe, blue eyes, and a generous mouth.

  ‘Anything like her?’ queried Webster, when the picture was complete. ‘Remember, it’s not a portrait we’re after, more the shape of different features, hairline and so on.’

  ‘There’s quite a resemblance, yes.’

  ‘Anything you can add verbally, to flesh it out, as it were?’

  ‘Only that her eyebrows are thick and dark, and her eyes very vivid blue.’

  ‘Good, good; that’s the kind of thing we need. Anything else?’

  ‘Not that I can think of.’

  ‘Well, thank you, Mrs Allerdyce; that’s been most helpful.’

  ‘Just – find her,’ Rona said in a low voice. ‘Please.’

  Jonathan Hurst stopped in surprise as he recognized the seated figure in Chase Mortimer’s reception area.

  ‘Dominic – hello! Were you looking for me?’

  Dominic rose slowly to his feet. ‘Good morning, Jonathan. No, I wasn’t, actually.’

  Jonathan waited but he didn’t elaborate, and before there was a chance to probe further, the door to Lindsey’s office opened and she came out, stopping short on seeing the two men.

  Jonathan looked sharply from her to Dominic. Then he said in a low voice, ‘If that’s your game, you’ll have to take your place in the queue.’ And with a curt nod, he went out on to the street.

  Lindsey, annoyed at not being warned of his arrival, frowned reprovingly at the receptionist, but Dominic said quickly, ‘Mea culpa; I asked her not to disturb you.’

  In other words, Lindsey thought, he wanted to take me by surprise. She came slowly towards him, eyebrows raised questioningly. ‘Can I help you, then?’ she asked coolly.

  ‘I hope so, but not professionally.’

  She waited, and he said evenly, ‘There are one or two things I need to say to you, and they can be better said over a good lunch.’

  Lindsey glanced back at the receptionist, but she was on the phone and unlikely to overhear them. ‘It didn’t occur to you I might already have a lunch date? You should have phoned first.’

  ‘It did occur to me, but I reckoned that if I phoned, you’d turn me down flat.’

  For a moment they regarded one another, trying to gauge each other’s thoughts. Then Lindsey said, ‘I might have done, at that.’

  ‘Have you a lunch date?’

  ‘As it happens, no.’

  ‘Then will you please allow me to take you to the Clarendon?’

  Lindsey hesitated. Part of her was crying out to go with him, part of her held back. After much heart-searching, she’d convinced herself there was no future in his on/off approach, and to avoid further heartache, had decided to end the relationship – if it warranted the name. She guessed he was here now only because she’d been with Jonathan on Friday.

  Steeling herself, she said, ‘I really don’t think there’s much point in this, Dominic. Let’s just leave it, shall we?’

  She half-turned away, but he caught at her arm.

  ‘That’s what I deserve, I know, but let me explain. Please, Lindsey: last chance saloon?’

  Her eyes held his for a long moment. Then she sighed. ‘Very well then; last chance saloon.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He took her arm, and neither of them spoke as he led her out of the building and across the road to the hotel. Chris Fairfax, the owner-manager, was in the entrance hall, and she nodded to him as she followed the maitre d’ into the restaurant. Though as familiar to her as her own home, today the surroundings had an unreal quality – stemming, she knew, from the change in Dominic’s attitude. For the first time since they’d met, she appeared somehow to have the upper hand.

  Only about a dozen tables were occupied; most people lunched in the grill room, where the service was quicker. They were shown to a window table looking on to Guild Street, and provided with large, glossy menus.

  ‘We’d like to order drinks first,’ Dominic told the waiter. ‘Gin and tonic, Lindsey?’

  ‘Please.’ She wondered if he’d remembered, or simply made a good guess. Her heart was beating high in her chest. Why did he have to stir everything up again, when she’d finally found the courage to call a halt?

  Their drinks were set before them, and suddenly everything went quiet, as though the room were holding its breath. They seemed isolated at their table, surrounded by empty spaces, and though crowds jostled and laughed on the other side of the glass, double-glazing ensured that no sound reached them.

  Lindsey looked up, half-fearfully, to find
Dominic’s eyes on her.

  ‘You’re overdue an explanation of my behaviour,’ he began. ‘It’s been cavalier in the extreme, and I apologize unreservedly.’

  She didn’t speak, simply sat looking at him. This was not what she’d expected.

  He cleared his throat and his eyes dropped to his glass. ‘To start at the beginning, some months ago I became involved in a very unwise relationship. From comments you made, I think you’re aware of this. It was foolish and irresponsible, and extricating myself proved difficult, and, worse, caused hurt, which had never been my intention.’

  He lifted his glass, drank from it, and replaced it on the table, staring thoughtfully down at it. ‘The long and the short of it was that I determined to steer well clear of commitments for a long time to come.’ He paused. ‘And then I met you.’ Another pause. ‘And alarm bells rang.’

  Lindsey reached an unsteady hand for her own glass and sipped at the ice-cold liquid. Blood was thundering in her ears and her mouth was dry. Across the room, someone gave a shout of laughter.

  ‘I knew,’ Dominic went on after a moment, ‘that the only safe course was to steer well clear of you. But I couldn’t. Hence my pathetic attempts at compromise.’

  Lindsey moistened her lips. ‘And now?’

  ‘Now, on the brink of losing you altogether, I’ve no option but to throw caution to the winds.’

  Intent on each other, neither had noticed the waiter’s approach until a voice above them enquired, ‘Are you ready to order, sir?’

  ‘No, dammit!’ Dominic snapped. Then, looking up, ‘I’m sorry. Give us five more minutes.’

  ‘Very good, sir.’ He glided away.

  ‘Talk about bad timing!’ Dominic muttered.

  Lindsey laughed, and the tension was broken. He reached for her hand.

  ‘I’m not really too late, am I?’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘To become a more stable part of your life. To start again, really get to know each other, and – see what transpires. Or have I blown it completely?’

  She shook her head, hardly daring to believe what he was saying. But there was one question that still had to be resolved.

  ‘What about Carla?’ she asked.

  ‘Carla,’ he answered quietly, ‘is, as you know, my friend as well as my assistant. And yes, on occasions she’s been more than that. But what’s between us is affection, nothing stronger. She once described herself as my comfort blanket.’

  A corner of his mouth lifted. ‘In fact, she’s been lecturing me on your behalf. It was because she kept telling me how badly I’ve been treating you, that I finally saw it for myself. So there you have it, Lindsey. I’ve put my cards on the table, which is a novel experience for me. Now it’s up to you. What do you say?’

  A surge of happiness welled up inside her.

  ‘I think,’ she said, ‘that you should order a bottle of champagne.’

  After lunch with Max, Rona took Gus for a lengthy walk in the park. She was in no hurry to go home, and needed time to herself in which to process the train of events that had overtaken them. As she approached the bench where she’d sat with Louise, she glanced over, half-hoping to see her there, but it was occupied by two young mothers, chatting as their children played nearby. Well, the photofit would be in the evening papers and on the news; please God it might help in tracing her.

  Her mobile bleeped in her bag, indicating the receipt of a text. She flipped it open to read: Can’t speak to you now – I’m in the office. Just to say I had lunch with Dominic and everything is WONDERFUL! More later. Lindsey.

  Rona smiled; good news was more than welcome at the moment, and Lindsey was overdue for a lasting and worthwhile relationship. With luck, this could be it.

  When she finally reached home, the press were still camped in the Avenue, though to Rona’s relief, they appeared to have given up on her. Averting her eyes from the shrouded door, she turned into her own gateway.

  However, as she reached the study the doorbell rang, and she swore softly. It seemed she’d congratulated herself too soon. Gus barked a warning, and after a minute the bell rang again.

  Rona went into the bedroom and took up her position behind the curtain. Then, recognizing the figure walking back down the path, she ran downstairs and, ignoring the camera crews, flung the door open.

  ‘Felicity! Sorry! Do come in!’

  Felicity Willow, a large bouquet of flowers in one arm, turned and retraced her steps.

  ‘Whatever’s going on?’ she asked. ‘All these vans – I had to park at the end of the road – and as I walked back, a continuous stream of cars passed, driving slowly, while the occupants stared up at the houses.’

  Rona smiled ruefully and gestured her into the sitting room. ‘Been living on Mars for the last few days?’

  ‘Not quite, but I’ve been more or less incommunicado since Thursday.’

  ‘Of course you have. Sorry. How’s Julian?’

  ‘Much better, thanks. He should be home at the end of the week.’ She held out the flowers. ‘This is with my thanks for all you did.’

  ‘Oh Felicity, they’re lovely, but there was no need.’

  ‘So – are you going to tell me what’s been happening?’

  ‘Unfortunately, we’ve had a tragedy. Oh –’ at Felicity’s gasp – ‘not personally. The elderly couple who were renting next door have been killed.’

  ‘God, how awful!’ Felicity paused. ‘Killed how?’

  ‘Murdered, actually. And to make matters worse, it was Max and I who found them.’

  Once again she went through the story.

  ‘And the daughter’s still missing?’

  ‘Yes, and to complicate matters, she’s suffering from amnesia.’

  ‘Did you know her?’

  ‘Slightly. They were – a very private family. Look, can I get you some tea? Coffee?’

  ‘No, thanks, I’ve just had some. The reason I called – apart from bringing the flowers – was that I felt you deserved an explanation. About how Julian came to be in Farnbridge.’

  ‘It’s really none of my business.’

  ‘It was good of you to be so discreet about it; not everyone would have been.’ Felicity looked down at her hands. ‘You were right in thinking Tara wanted him to partner her at the dinner. And he had spent the day in London, as he said, but instead of staying the night there, he caught the train to Farnbridge, and Tara met him at the station.’

  Rona said carefully, ‘I thought there’d be a simple explan-ation.’

  ‘Not all that simple. I wasn’t born yesterday, Rona, and nor were you. They have been seeing each other; Julian was sympathetic over the break-up, and – his sympathy went too far. He bitterly regrets it now. I wanted you to know the facts, so that you wouldn’t be left wondering.’

  ‘Thank you, but really—’

  ‘The accident’s being investigated, of course, so things will be a bit strained for a while, but once that’s all over, we’ll put the whole thing behind us.’

  ‘And – Tara?’

  ‘Has been discharged, and is being looked after by her mother.’ Felicity gave her a bright smile. ‘So, enough of all that. How’s the article coming along?’

  ‘It’s almost finished. I need to check a couple of things, so if it’s not inconvenient, I’ll pop back later in the week.’

  ‘And stay for lunch?’ Felicity asked with a smile.

  ‘Strictly sandwiches. You have enough on your plate.’

  ‘You could be right; Graham and Erika are staying on for a while. But we will still be friends, won’t we, Rona? When the article’s finished and everything?’

  ‘Of course we will. Another lunch at the Bacchus, perhaps?’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it.’ She rose to her feet. ‘I must be getting back; Minty needs collecting from a birthday party, and Robin’s due to play cricket. I’ll see you later in the week, then? We can at least have a cup of coffee.’

  ‘That would be good.’ Rona saw her
to the door.

  ‘And I do hope they find your friend safe and sound,’ Felicity added.

  ‘So do I,’ Rona said. ‘Oh, so do I.’

  ‘Avril? It’s Guy.’

  Avril’s heart gave a little jerk. ‘Guy! How nice to hear from you.’

  ‘How are things? Nice and peaceful, now my daughter’s out of the way?’

  ‘I wouldn’t exactly say that.’

  Something in her voice must have alerted him, because he said quickly, ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there?’

  ‘Well, I suppose you’ve heard of the double murder that’s in all the papers?’

  ‘Yes? But it’s nowhere near you, surely?’

  ‘They lived next door to Rona. And it was she and her husband who found them.’

  ‘Not again!’ Guy exclaimed. When Sarah had first arrived, Avril had felt bound to tell him of Rona’s involvement in the Curzon case.

  ‘My own feelings exactly.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Avril. I’d have rung sooner, if I’d had any idea.’

  ‘That’s kind of you, but there’s nothing anyone can do. How’s Sarah?’

  ‘Well, that’s partly the reason for this call. She’s gone off to France with Clive at a moment’s notice. Which means she won’t be coming to the theatre with me on Friday, as planned.’

  Avril waited, hope stirring inside her.

  Guy gave a little laugh. ‘You’ll think I make a habit of making use of you when my daughter lets me down, but I was wondering if you’d care to come with me? It’s the modern-dress production of The Merchant of Venice. It’s had rave reviews, and I remembered we discussed Shakespeare in modern dress at the pub that evening.’

  ‘It’s – good of you to think of me,’ she said. ‘When did you say this is?’

  ‘This coming Friday, the seventeenth. Are you free?’

  ‘I’m almost sure I am. That would be lovely, Guy.’

  ‘Excellent. Now all that remains is to fix the mode of transport. I’m not too keen on driving down; would you mind going by train?’

  ‘Of course not. And meet you at the theatre?’