Like Twigs in a Storm

by Ross Richdale

  "There's no phone call but do you know what you've just done?" Steve grinned.

  Cathy put her hands on her lips and glowered. "You tricked me. Anyhow, what have I done?"

  "Ran around half the paddock without a single limp." Steve laughed. "Your mum and I are so proud."

  Cathy's frown dissipated in an instant. She glanced down at her blue and white sneakers, back at the two adults and turned bright red.

  "The young lady who couldn't get across the room last night without a limp," Lavina added.

  "Wow." Cathy broke into a smile. "I haven't run in months."

  "But you did today, sweetheart," Lavina replied. She glanced across to Steve. "We'd better ring the vicar and book the church tonight."

  *

  An hour later the second half of the building arrived and by four in the afternoon the four extra classrooms were sitting on twenty to thirty gigantic jacks ready to be lowered on precast concrete foundations the construction workers were digging into place.

  The old district high school sat at right angles to the original building to form a long 'T' with the new addition extending out over the old football field.

  "It's gigantic and just about reaches the back fence," Cathy said to her mother. "When I saw the second part arrive I didn't think they'd have room to get it in."

  "And our new home class will be the first one to come here," Donna added. "Old Candy Bar said that since the school has free rental, Cathy's class could go first."

  Lavina frowned at Steve, "You never told me you offered it to the school for free."

  Steve laughed. "Good public relations and advertising. I've already had two other schools that have booked and five others have asked for our brochure."

  "Brochure?" Lavina raised her eyebrows. "What brochure?"

  "Well, I thought you could whip one up on the computer. Perhaps we'd better get a web site, too."

  *

  Three hours later the sun was still blazing and everyone was sitting at the picnic table outside the farmhouse when a tiny orange car roared in and screeched to a stop.

  Barrie stood up. "It's Janice...finally," he grumbled. "She said she'd be in town for a couple of hours. That was at one o'clock."

  He limped over to meet the young woman who came rushing out of her car without even bothering to close the driver's door. "Did you hear the news?" she gasped as her eyes flashed.

  "What news?" Barrie said. Janice was so excited it was obvious something important had happened.

  "The police. They stopped my car on the way out of the mall and asked me to go to the police station with them." She seemed more excited than upset.

  "Go on," Lavina said as everyone gathered around to hear the news.

  "Shit I was scared," Janice continued and gave a tiny laugh when she saw everyone's questioning glances. "But they only wanted to ask me a few questions. I was just going to say I wanted to ring Simon Aikin when Inspector Stein told me the news."

  "For heaven's sake, Janice, what news!" Lavina almost yelled.

  "Grant Ryland's murder's been solved," Janice paused so her words would sink in. "They've arrested his first wife, Nancy Morrow!"

  *

  CHAPTER 21

  After dropping Steve at work and Cathy at Donna's place for the day, Lavina had just returned to 23 Ashley Grove when Pat Stein and Jane Frankton arrived.

  "We've come to ask a favour, Mrs. Ryland," Pat began.

  "How can I possibly help you, sergeant?"

  "It's in relation to your late husband's first wife."

  "I guessed that," Lavina said. "Come in. I was about to have a cup of coffee. Would you two like one?"

  "Thank you," Stein said and Jane smiled.

  "We have the evidence to make a conviction, Lavina," Stein said a few moments later over coffee in the sitting room. "But there are a few loose ends."

  Jane came straight to the point. "We want you to visit Nancy Morrow in the remand prison."

  "But why?" Lavina asked. "We can hardly be called friends."

  "We need to find out why, after all this time, she decided to kill Grant Ryland. Our investigations showed she had nothing to do with your late husband for years."

  "You're sure she did it?"

  Stein nodded. "We still suspected Janice Ludlow and found a small section of the Cessna's engine cowling that we tested for prints. We found some...Morrow's. We can prove she touched the Cessna that weekend but still don't know why."

  "Investigations show her present husband is having an affair," Jane continued. "Our theory is Nancy Morrow blamed her first husband for everything going wrong in her life."

  "But wouldn't the sight of me who, after all, stole her husband make her antagonistic towards me?"

  "That's what we want to find out," Stein said. "We had an observer at your husband's funeral and she seemed to be quite friendly towards you at that time. It was Janice Ludlow who was antagonistic. That's one reason we originally suspected Miss Ludlow."

  "Yes she was." Lavina grinned. "But we're close friends now."

  "Nancy Morrow knows that. We want to see her reaction to your presence," Stein continued. "She's quite unstable at the moment so there's no way we can tell how she'll react."

  "If she's friendly we want you to mention your husband trying to kill you and your daughter by dropping you at De Wolfe's Plateau," Jane added. "Lay it on thick and try to sympathize with her. Can you do that?"

  "I guess," Lavina said. "I don't like acting like a spy, though."

  "That will be all you have to do," Pat said. "The room will be bugged and there is also a secret camera."

  Lavina frowned. "Isn't that illegal?"

  "If we used it as evidence in the trial, probably yes," Stein said. "But we don't intend to do that. We really want to know what track we should head down to find motivation for the crime. Her reaction to you could actually help her defence so her attorney has agreed to this meeting taking place."

  "Really?"

  "Yes. Her defence lawyers will try to prove diminished responsibility or insanity."

  Lavina sighed.

  "The poor woman." She glanced at the two detectives. "Okay, I'll do it...but only once. If she refuses to speak to me, or nothing unusual happens, that's it. Agreed?"

  "Agreed," Stein said. "We can take you out there this afternoon if you're free."

  Lavina nodded. "Yes. It's best to get it over with," she sighed and glanced up. "I should be pleased, shouldn't I?"

  "Why?" Jane asked.

  "No doubt you still had Janice and me on your suspect list. Some sort of grand conspiracy we hatched up together, I think you originally said, sergeant."

  "That was one of our theories but was discarded early in the investigation." He looked her straight in the eyes. "Your affair with Steve Garnet didn't help, you know."

  "No, I guess not but nobody's perfect." Lavina sighed and stood up. "Not that I regret it for a moment."

  Jane glanced at Lavina's engagement ring. "When's the big day?"

  "Next month on the sixteenth.”

  *

  The Knightsbridge Woman's Remand Prison was in a wing of the main prison but separated by a high fence. Lavina was led through a sterile corridor into a small room furnished with a table and two chairs. A guard opened a second door and Nancy Morrow, looking drawn and insignificant, almost as Lavina remembered her years before, entered. She glanced up at the visitor but showed no sign of welcome as she pulled out the chair opposite and sat down.

  "Are you here to gloat or are you curious to find out what happened to Grant?" For the first time her eyes flicked up, pausing on Lavina's for a second before staring back at the tabletop.

  "Neither," Lavina said. Somehow, the woman unnerved her and her first impulse was to get the visit over as quickly as possible. "I just thought you'd like some company."

  Nancy sighed and glanced at Lavina again. "Why? You never cared about me before."

  Lavina shuffled in her chair and gazed back. "Okay, I made a mistake
in coming, Nancy. Sorry to have annoyed you." She stood up and stepped towards the door on her side of the room. She only had to knock and it would be opened.

  "No, sit down, Lavina." Nancy Morrow said. "What do you want to know?"

  Lavina swallowed and decided she might as well be frank. "The police stated the evidence against you is based on your fingerprints being found on the Cessna engine cowling. Considering you haven't come near us for years, I was curious."

  "And I suppose you heard Blake has been having an affair?" Lavina nodded and the woman continued. "I found out it's been going on for years, another young woman half his age." She glanced up again but this time her tired eyes held Lavina's. "You know what it's like, of course. You've been through it with Janice Ludlow."

  "Our marriage was on the rocks well before then. I only stayed around for Cathy's sake."

  "Whatever," the other woman replied and lapsed into silence.

  Lavina coughed and decided a question might help. "I suppose Blake's infidelity made you think back to Grant," she prompted and waited for a reply.

  Nancy's reaction was instant and unexpected. Her face contorted into a cross between torment and anger. "My God, you're naive, Lavina."

  "Excuse me?" Lavina retorted with anger replacing the compassion she originally felt.

  Morrow examined the room but if a television camera was around, it was hidden. There were four pale blue walls, two doors, white lights in the ceiling and the three pieces of furniture. No guards were present. "Repeat what I tell you and I deny every word," she hissed.

  Lavina gave a shrug and pretence of apathy as her late husband's first wife began her story.

  *

  At forty-five, Nancy felt as if life was passing her by with little achieved and now she had learned Blake was having an affair with a woman at his office. In many ways, Blake's personality was similar to Grant's, big on talk and ideas, but little in actual substance. He was the owner of a moderately successful consultation business but liked to live highly and his income barely covered their lifestyle. Whether it was this that motivated her, the need for excitement or just being tired of watching the years pass with little to show for it, the woman didn't really know. Probably, it was the opportunity thrust upon her through an acquaintance in Europe and the offer of big money with no questions asked.

  Grant was constructing a new fence along the farm's road frontage when Nancy drove up in her Mercedes, pulled to the roadside and walked across to the tractor her ex-husband was using to drill the postholes.

  "Hello Grant," she said.

  The farmer stretched up from the post he had just lowered into the ground and wiped a dirty handkerchief over a sweaty brow. "Nancy," he replied with a slight smile. "Long time, no see. What brings you to Upper Forks Road?"

  "Business," Nancy replied. "Do you still fly the old Cessna?"

  "Yes," Grant replied. He reached up to the tractor and flicked the cut out switch. The diesel motor gave a couple more chugs before silence replaced its deep rumble. "I was about to stop for a cuppa. Like a bit of tea?" he added and nodded to a thermos sitting in the tool tray.

  "No thanks, but you go ahead. I'm in no hurry."

  Grant shrugged, unscrewed the top of the thermos and poured some hot dark liquid into the metal top that served as a mug. He pulled the lid off a plastic container, extracted two chocolate biscuits and handed Nancy one. "Lavina still looks after me," he said.

  "Yes, I guess. Not costing you too much, I hope."

  Grant glared. "Okay, you have my attention, Nancy," he said. "What are you really here for?"

  "I want a package flown down from Auckland and stored on the farm for a few months ..."

  *

  "So you organized the art theft?" Lavina gasped after Nancy finished her account of how she'd used Grant to fly the Rubens to the farm.

  "Why not?" the woman growled.

  "No reason," Lavina said. "What went wrong?"

  "The bastard got greedy," Nancy spat, her voice now ringing with emotion. "When I went to check on how everything had gone he refused to show me the painting and demanded twice the money I'd originally offered. I had some friends search the place one day when you were both away but we never found it."

  Lavina frowned and decided to risk adding her own information. After all, the real Rubens was back in secure hands. "It was in the wine cellar under the implement shed," she said. "Didn't you look there?"

  "What?" Nancy gasped. "The crafty old bugger."

  "Surely you knew about the wine cellar?"

  "Yes, but in my day you entered it through a trapdoor in the house's main hallway. When we searched under the trap door, there was only a solid concrete slab underneath. We even tried to dig around it but the original stairway had totally collapsed and just filled with soil."

  Lavina suppressed a grin. "Grant must have made the new entrance and sealed off the old one when we did the extensions to the implement shed a few years back," she suggested." She frowned again. "So you were responsible for the recent wrecking of the house?"

  "Only indirectly," Nancy replied. "My business associates in Auckland were applying the pressure to get the painting back and I had to confess Grant had been killed without telling anyone where it was.”

  "We found it," Lavina said who once again decided to be proactive. "Janice knew about the wine cellar."

  "Oh shit!” Nancy stared at Lavina. "I don't think you want to hear the next bit.”

  “Why not?”

  *

  "The painting is secure," Grant grumbled to an extremely irate Nancy. They were in the living room on the following Thursday, Lavina's day in town. "I found out it is worth millions so all I want, my dear ex-wife, is a little more compensation for looking after it for you."

  "How much?"

  "The same again," Grant said. "Forty thousand and it'll be delivered to any place you wish in the country."

  "You bastard!"

  "Lavina is getting quite expensive tastes, you know," Ryland said with a smirk. "Not to mention my new little friend."

  "Who obviously needs things you can't offer." Nancy's cold eyes glared into Grant's. She gave a sarcastic grin at his wrinkled eyebrows. "Your dear little wife isn't as innocent a you might think, Grant," she laughed.

  "What do you mean?" His voice turned hard.

  "Oh nothing." Nancy leaned back on the couch and acted innocent. "Well, I guess she's only doing what you do, liberal marriages and all that."

  "Explain!" Grant gritted his teeth. She could see his temper coming to the fore.

  "Why should I? The way you treat women I can hardly blame her."

  Grant stood took a step towards her and clenched a fist. His scowl darkened and Nancy knew his suppressed anger was about to explode. For a moment, fear ran through her and memories of distant beatings flooded into her mind. The man was violent she knew that. She was about to retreat when Ryland lashed out, caught her on the side of the face with an open slap and sent her reeling across the floor to land on scraped knees. Before she could recover, he stepped over and grabbed her by the hair, yanked her up to a crouching position and seized her throat.

  "You'd better be lying, you bitch," he whispered with his face so close to hers she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

  The hand began to tighten and Nancy could not even choke. Vision blurred but just before unconsciousness provided relief the pressure slackened. "Who is it?" he snarled.

  Nancy choked. Tears ran down her cheeks and she spluttered and gasped as her lungs refilled with air. "Steve Garnet. He's the one who's doing up the old school. She stays overnight with him every Thursday." She suppressed a smirk. "They could be together, right now."

  Grant flung her aside like a rag doll and stood up. His jaw twitched in anger and his massive hands contracted into clenched fists. For a second she though he was going to punch out at her but the man's anger was directed elsewhere.

  "Nobody is unfaithful to me," he whispered and hardly noticed as Nancy crawled back
out of his way, wiped a shaking hand over her bruised neck and staggered to her feet. "I'll give you a week to think about my offer." His eyes bore into her beneath terrifying brows. "You bloody women are all the same." He took a step towards the cowering visitor but hesitated. A dark smile cracked over his lips. "Just go!" he muttered. "I'll deal with my wife and her fancy man."

  *

  "That was when I decided to kill him," Nancy whispered with her voice so low her visitor hardly heard. "I actually felt sorry for you."

  "Thanks," muttered a pale Lavina. "So you told him about me and felt sorry for me all in the course of a couple of minutes."

  "I was annoyed," Nancy retorted. "I knew he was the only one who piloted the Cessna and decided what to do." She grimaced. "I used to help him with the basic maintenance years back so knew a bit about how the mechanics worked. Unfortunately, by the time I arrived the following Saturday afternoon the Cessna had gone. I didn't think it was prudent to hang around, even though I used a rental car that wouldn't be recognized by the locals. So I returned late on Sunday night. The place was in darkness and within fifteen minutes I'd loosened the fuel pipe." She sucked on her lips. “My plan worked perfectly..." She glanced up. "Well almost."

  "Oh my God!" Lavina gasped. "So you were responsible for everything?"

  "Yes," Nancy smiled but her eyes still appeared cold, "That mousy little woman who wouldn't harm a fly. I did you a favour, didn't I? The chances are the bastard would have killed you when you walked out of the bush if he'd been alive."

  Lavina just stared, her face ashen. "There were other ways," she whispered.

  "Sure," Nancy Morrow replied. "They think I'm crazy, you know. The shrinks are testing me for every syndrome in the book, battered wife's syndrome, lapsed memory syndrome and so forth. I just go along with them all. It doesn't matter any more."

  "But why?"

  Suddenly Nancy's face cracked and her eyes brimmed with tears. "I thought Blake was everything I could ask for," she replied. "When I found out he was no better than Grant I planned the Rubens theft. I was about to just walk out of the country to live happily ever after. Grant stopped that so he had to go."