Death at Rainbow Cottage

by Jo Allen

  ‘More baffled than inspired,’ he admitted, tearing his eyes from the maze of information and ironing out his customary frown. I spoke to Claud and he mentioned the Rainbow Festival again. It keeps coming up. Even though it’s only a suggestion, it seems to have inspired strong opposition.’

  ‘Can we pin that opposition to anyone we’ve already covered?’

  ‘Yes. Phil. Claud remembers him from a church meeting, though he wasn’t the only one. He said there’s opposition in every congregation, though not as great as the support.’

  ‘Okay,’ Ashleigh said. ‘If we have to go through every congregation looking for the one rotten apple, I’ll do it. I don’t care how many good Christian folk are upset.’

  ‘The good ones won’t mind. But I don’t know if we need to go down that route just yet, as neither Len nor Gracie had any church connections that I’m aware of. No. That wasn’t what was troubling me.’

  ‘Then what was?’

  ‘It’s the little things. It always is.’

  ‘You don’t think the burglary at the Blackwells’ office is significant, then?’

  ‘I don’t know, but that isn’t what I meant. There’s just something I can’t get my head around. It’s Natalie and her obsession with running.’

  ‘Is that so odd? She looks to me as if she has a classic obsessive personality. With some people it’s arranging the kitchen cupboards or putting their coat hangers the same way round.’

  ‘My mum reloads the dishwasher if Mikey or I load it. Not the same thing, of course, but I do see where you're coming from. I don’t have any reason to doubt her. I know she runs the route she says she does. I’ve seen her do it, even if we didn’t have the data to prove it.’

  Ashleigh unpinned the map of Natalie’s route that was pinned up on the board and spread it out in front of them on the table. ‘It seems straightforward, doesn’t it.?’ Her fingers traced the route. ‘All the times. And that ten minute rest she said she had and always does have. It’s all there. And the arrival at the crime scene, exactly when she said she was there and minutes after Len was stabbed.’

  ‘I know. That lets her off the hook.’ He took the sheet and replaced it next to the one that had tracked Natalie’s run on the night of Gracie’s murder. ‘I don’t find it easy to suspect Natalie, I admit, even if this didn’t put her completely in the clear.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘But Claud. Here we are. A man murdered in broad daylight outside his house and he’s looking the other way. A woman whose body he stumbles on outside his office. Is that too much of a coincidence?’

  Ashleigh thought of Claud. If Faye kept popping up in every strong woman in the tarot deck, Claud was more specific, a bull-necked crusading King of Swords, a symbol of action, wisdom and duality. You could add patience to that, too. But somehow the action, and the obvious symbolism of the swords, didn’t convince her. ‘There are a lot of coincidences going on here, it seems to me.’

  ‘Then they can’t all be coincidences.’ Jude hated coincidence.

  ‘It’s unlikely. We need to look a whole lot more closely at the connections.’ Because that was always the message she picked up from the cards, that things were connected at many levels, and sometimes in the least likely way. ‘I do agree with you that Claud has to be the main suspect. But he has no motive — almost the opposite. And even if he did, I just can’t see him killing anyone.’

  ‘It’s not unknown for killers to be in complete denial about their motives.’

  He lifted that reproving eyebrow at her, and she laughed. Instinct was a starting point, not an ending, and it was finding the evidence to follow it up that would convict the killer — or killers — of Len Pierce and Gracie Pepper. ‘I know what you’re thinking, Jude, but we’ll get them in the end.’

  ‘Let’s hope so.’ He turned away from the board. ‘I’m done here for tonight. It’s nearly six. Let’s get away from this place. I spend too much time here, and I suspect you do, too.’

  The previous day should have been the one day off they both had in a fortnight. ‘Yes. Okay.’

  ‘Are you doing anything?’

  ‘I’ve no plans.’

  ‘Then why don’t we go out for a meal somewhere?’

  ‘That would be fine. Any suggestions?’

  He picked up his coat and looked around the depleted incident room, lifted a hand to Chris and turned away. ‘We could run down to Askham and get a pub meal. And I can take you in to visit my mum on the way.’

  *

  They were almost at the village of Wasby when Jude’s phone rang. Ashleigh glanced down at it where it lay in the cup holder. ‘Unknown number. Should I answer it?’

  ‘Wait for the voicemail.’ It was his work phone and he should have switched it off. He’d never learn. The ringing ended and after a moment she checked voicemail. ‘Jude. Phil Garner here. Can you give me a ring?’

  Jude leaned heavily on the brake, pulling the Mercedes up in a gateway and turning off the engine. Phil. Realising he was in trouble and calling to cover his back? ‘This’ll be interesting. I didn’t know he had my number.’

  ‘I expect he’ll have got it from Tammy.’

  ‘Yeah, that must be it.’ He picked up the phone and dialled back. ‘Hi Phil. Jude here. What can I do for you?’

  ‘I remembered something.’ Phil’s tone was less confrontational that it had been. Jude had heard that before, always in someone who thought they were at risk and was protecting their interests. Playing along, trying to be one of the good guys. ‘It’s probably nothing. But it might be.’

  ‘Hit me with it.’ Jude stared out of the window. A horse strolled up to the gate and looked down its long muzzle at them, eyes gleaming in the car headlights.

  ‘It’s Gracie. Last week I was outside in the car park heading off after my shift. I saw her come out of the hospital entrance with a man. They walked over to a car — her car, I suppose, because she was driving, and they both got in and drove off.’

  ‘When was that?’

  ‘Friday. About four-ish. I can’t swear to the exact minute. Hope that doesn’t convict me of something.’

  Some people couldn’t resist a sly comment. Phil was afraid. Rightly or wrongly, and of what? ‘Let’s hope not. Thanks for that. Did you recognise the man?’

  ‘Can’t say I did. And I wasn’t close enough to see anything much, other than that.’

  ‘Okay. That’s fine. Thanks Phil. Very helpful. Enjoy your evening.’ Jude rang off. ‘For God’s sake. That’s not looking good, is it?

  Ashleigh had her phone out, her fingers tapping out a number as they spoke. ‘Chris is working late. I’ll get him on to that.’

  ‘Friday last week. I wonder how many people Gracie gave lifts to between then and Tuesday? I wonder what the chances are of there being fingerprints still on the car? CCTV is the best bet, and quicker, too, if he’s right about it. We should be able to get that pretty soon.’

  ‘Yes. Chris…good. No, don’t stay too late. But can you sort a couple of things for me before you go? Can you get a CSI to take fingerprints off Gracie Pepper’s car? Passenger side, inside and out. And have a look at CCTV from the hospital car park for last Friday around four… As soon as possible. Like, yesterday... I want to know if she was with anyone and if we know who it was. Yes, brilliant. Thanks.’ She ended the call as Jude started the engine and finished the short drive up to his mother’s house at Wasby. ‘Jude. Imagine…just imagine if it was Giles Butler.’

  Chapter 19

  When the doorbell rang, Linda Satterthwaite was in the middle of reeling off a list of tasks and the people who would do them and Mikey was looking, Becca thought, unjustifiably distracted given it was his birthday party they were planning.

  ‘Forty-eight hours to go. We should have everything ready by tomorrow night.’ Linda tapped her pad with a pen. ‘Mikey, go and get the door, would you? But don’t go sliding off upstairs afterwards. I’m not having you complaining something isn’t right when you can’
t be bothered to give us your input.’

  The moment he’d left the room she leaned forward. ‘Have you got the cake sorted?’

  Linda must be the one Jude got his organised mind from, because David and Mikey were both scatty, always leaving things to the last minute and trusting in the goodwill of others to get them out of trouble. ‘Yes, don't worry. It’s in my kitchen. All we need to do is get it to the hall and add the candles. I’ll sneak it in when I’m bringing the rest of the food.’

  ‘You’re a born conspirator. Though I expect we could carry it in in full view and he wouldn't notice it.’

  At least such a casual attitude made planning surprises for Mikey easy. Becca smiled. She’d tried to surprise Jude a few times when they’d been together and never succeeded, though he was good at pretending she had. In fact, when she thought about it, the only time she’d ever caught him out was the day she’d told him it was over.

  ‘Look what the cat’s dragged in.’ Mikey bounced back into the living room, grinning as if at the idea of some entertainment, and dropped back into his seat.

  ‘Show a bit of respect,’ Jude admonished him from the doorway, ‘for Ashleigh, if not for me.’ And then he was in the room and looking round with the expression that snapped into stillness on the instant to hide what he really thought, and Becca understood why she’d thought of him. The sound of the Mercedes outside had triggered her memories. That was all.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be catching criminals?’ Mikey’s chirpiness was undampened. ‘Haven’t you heard? There’s a homicidal maniac on the loose.’

  ‘Someone else is dealing with that tonight. I have a life.’

  Becca made herself as small as she could in the corner of the sofa. He was learning. It was too late, of course, and it was ironic that he was making free time to spend with a woman he must see every day at work. Maybe he cared about Ashleigh more than he ever had done for Becca herself.

  ‘Jude,’ Linda said, her genuine warmth covering Becca’s more obvious confusion. ‘What a lovely surprise. And you must be—’

  ‘This is Ashleigh.’ Jude stood back and let his new woman — slightly abashed, Becca thought — precede him into the room. ‘Ashleigh, this is my mum, Linda. We were on our way to Askham for a bite to eat and we’re a bit ahead, so we thought it was time to introduce you.’

  A chilled silence descended on them. ‘Hi Becca,’ Jude said, to break it.

  She nodded towards him, and shuffled up on the sofa, the only space available.

  ‘Mikey,’ Linda directed, ‘you can sit on the floor and give Ashleigh your seat. Tea, Ashleigh? Coffee?’

  ‘It’s okay.’ Jude sat in the middle of the sofa and indicated the space next to him for Ashleigh, and then the three of them shifted about until Becca had put a clear two inches between herself and Jude and he and Ashleigh were crushed together in the other half of it. ‘We’re quite comfortable. And don’t worry about tea. We won’t stay.’

  Becca had met Ashleigh before, in a more formal situation. Trying not to be too obvious, she cast a sideways look at the new light of Jude’s life. In fairness to him, you could see the attraction. As an objective observer, it was hard not to be impressed by the sheer lusciousness of the woman, with her bright blonde hair and the inviting curve of her hips, waist and bosom, even though Becca was a little more critical of the startling scarlet of the lipstick and the heavy and expensive scent. ‘Nice to see you again,’ she said, across Jude.

  ‘You too.’

  ‘We’ve obviously interrupted the party planning meeting,’ Jude nodded at the notepad the Linda had automatically picked up when she sat down.

  ‘Of course you’ll bring Ashleigh.’ Linda smiled again.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You’d bloody better turn up this time.’ From his seat in the corner Mikey, in full Goth mode, both looked and sounded aggrieved.

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘You always say that.’

  ‘Yes, and I always do.’

  Becca made a face at Mikey, and had the satisfaction of seeing him give a little shrug of acknowledgement. In fairness, no-one could reasonably accuse Jude of letting his brother down, and what he’d done for him was more than anyone should consider he was obliged to. It wasn’t enough, because it didn’t fill the gap left by an absent father, but why should it? Jude had his own life to live, and it was obvious he was living it to the full. ‘It’ll be good if you can come along.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Mikey said, to Ashleigh rather than Jude, ‘it’ll be great to see you. We can have a proper chat.’

  ‘If we can hear anything above the music.’ Linda steamrollered her way through yet another silence. ‘The only thing Mikey’s doing for his own party is putting together the playlist. And as I don't recognise anything on it, I’m going to hazard a guess that it’ll be far too loud and us oldies will have to congregate in the kitchen if we want to hear one another speak.’

  ‘That’s the plan, anyway.’ Mikey presented an impudent face to his mother.

  ‘Is there anything we can do to help?’ Jude slid an arm along the back of the sofa behind Ashleigh, in a way that included her in the family.

  ‘No, it’s okay. We have the hall booked and we’ll set it up on Saturday afternoon. Becca’s doing the food and I’m going down to Sainsbury’s tomorrow to load up with everything else. We’ll be fine. All we need is your good selves.’

  Another silence. ‘If you want us to fetch and carry—’

  ‘It’s okay. We’re under control.’

  Becca looked down at her notepad. Mac cheese x3 she’d written. Sausage rolls x 100. Crisps x lots.

  ‘We should go, Jude.’ Ashleigh nudged him, and gave Linda an apologetic look. ‘We have a table booked for half seven.’

  ‘Yes.’ He heaved himself out of the low sofa and gave her a hand up that Becca was sure she didn’t need. ‘We were late away from work, or we’d have been able to stop longer. But I thought I ought to make an effort of introducing Ashleigh before Saturday. Don't bother to see us out. We know the way.’

  ‘Look,’ they heard Ashleigh saying as the two of them made their way to the door. ‘there’s that beautiful grey cat.’ And then the door closed behind them and Jude and the new woman — the official new woman — in his life had gone.

  *

  ‘I’m glad I finally met your mum.’ Ashleigh unwound a thin silk scarf from round her neck and dropped it on the sofa.

  ‘Yes. So am I.’ Jude had been rerunning the day’s work in a way he shouldn't be doing when an attractive woman was beginning the process of taking off her clothes in front of him. As they’d left the pub Chris had called. It was far too soon for fingerprints, but the CCTV had been easily and quickly available and had confirmed just what he’d expected — Giles, getting into Gracie’s car. He’d get him in for questioning first thing next morning. That would make for an interesting session.

  ‘And Mikey.’

  Mikey, the little brat. Jude chuckled, turning up his phone to see the message his brother had sent him. Cool girl. Punching above your weight there, m8. ‘I think you impressed him.’

  ‘Do you think so? In a good way, I hope.’

  ‘Almost certainly. And it was better to catch them informally. Much less pressure on everybody.’ He watched her as she shed her coat, draping it over the back of the chair. ‘I hope it wasn’t too awkward for you, with Becca there. I wasn’t expecting her.’

  ‘Awkward? No, not at all. I only worried that it might be a bit difficult for you.’ She fluttered her fingers across the front of her blouse, teasing him.

  Sometimes he thought Ashleigh could read minds and if he should ask her to tell him what he thought, because sometimes he didn’t know himself. He was learning that getting over Becca wasn’t happening the way he’d thought it would. She wouldn’t go away. She meant less and less to him every time he saw her, and her obvious irritation with him translated naturally into his irritation with her. Still she persisted, in his mother's life
and his brother’s and so, by default in his own. At last he was getting used to it. ‘Are you having trouble with those buttons? Here. Let me help you.’

  Becca wasn’t where she once was, in his heart and in his bed. Ashleigh had taken over. And he was getting used to that, too.

  ‘Jude.’ She held him off, but not as if she was resisting. ‘Just a minute.’

  ‘I’ll take as long as you like.’

  ‘There’s something I want to tell you.’

  His lips touched the top of her hair, an offer he knew she wouldn’t refuse. ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘It’s about Faye Scanlon.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘She’s the woman I had a fling with.’

  At an early stage she’d told him about the affair she’d had, the kicking over of all traces as her marriage disintegrated, and he hadn’t turned a hair, but she’d never named names. In his silence, she slid a hand over his heart as if she could trace a change in its beat, or a variation in his breathing, but all she would feel was the quivering of a chuckle. It didn’t surprise him, an elegant explanation for every aspect of Faye’s behaviour — the defensiveness, the coolness to Ashleigh, the hostility to him. And he hadn’t missed the way she’d changed the subject that first day back from her holiday when he’d asked if she and Faye had met. ‘That must have been a shock for her when she saw you. Didn’t she recognise you? Or was she cutting you dead?’

  Ashleigh relaxed. ‘The second. She certainly didn’t seem pleased to see me.’

  ‘How the hell did she not know where you’d gone when you came up from Cheshire? Surely when you left she would have heard something?’

  ‘I doubt it. And even if she had known, she might not have realised I was here. I was known as Ash Kirby when I was in Cheshire. When I left I took up the Sunday version of my Christian name and went back to my maiden name.’

  ‘I guessed, of course.’

  ‘Of course you did,’ she said, her voice bubbling with relief, and she gave up all pretence at resistance and turned willingly into his arms.