Killed in Cornwall

by Janie Bolitho

  ‘I know. I’m sure there’re doing all they can.’ They began to walk side by side. ‘I just wish I could have given the police more help.’

  ‘Don’t think about it now.’

  ‘I went out with some friends on Friday.’

  ‘Did you?’ Lucy had sounded proud, as if she had achieved something special. Laura realised that she probably had.

  ‘Yes. I didn’t stay late but it was a start. And I’ve made it up with Sam. I don’t know why I was such a bitch to her. I’m seeing her tonight.’

  ‘That’s good news.’ They had reached the gate at the top of the park. Lucy would continue on towards the hairdresser’s where she worked while Laura would turn back and retrace her route. ‘And I saw Jason. Well, not to speak to. He was with another girl so that’s obviously over. She’s someone down on holiday so that won’t last either. She’s called Liz, apparently. I know all this because one of my friends went over to speak to him.’ She smiled wanly. ‘She has to know everything that’s going on.’

  ‘You don’t sound too upset about it.’

  ‘I’m not. It’s for the best really. And Sam was pleased.’

  Laura nodded, not quite sure why that might be. Maybe Sam had been jealous of the relationship. Anyway, she would relay the good news to Rose as soon as she got rid of the dog. ‘Take care, Lucy,’ she said, realising too late how her words must sound after what had happened to her. ‘Look, why don’t you and your mum come over tomorrow evening. Trevor’s sailing, we can have a drink and some supper.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll check with Mum and let you know.’

  Laura began the walk home. Her neighbours had said they would be back by twelve. If Trevor took himself off to the pub she would ring Rose for a gossip and join him later.

  Rose’s face was browner than ever. All of Sunday and most of Monday had been out spent of doors. As soon as Jack had left she had thrown on her painting clothes and set off in the car. Already an idea had formed in her mind for her next piece of work.

  She had parked in a lay-by on the Lizard Peninsular and clambered down to the shoreline. There, facing Poldhu Point, she had set up her easel. There was no one in sight, she had had the place to herself. To her right was the glistening sea with a few small breakers near the shore. Ahead was a cliff, rising steeply and covered with wind-toughened grass at the top and, at her feet and spreading into the distance, were smooth boulders, their surfaces treacherous with hanks of bladder wrack and bright green slime which Rose thought might be called dulce. In the rock-pools the tendrils of anemones floated and shrimp-like creatures darted for cover. This she would capture in oils, the colours predominantly greens.

  By Monday afternoon she had made a good start and returned home satisfied. The work would need to be completed quickly because the tide altered by roughly an hour each day and soon the water would cover the boulders during the hours when the light was right.

  She showered away the heat and grains of sand and wrapped herself in her towelling robe. Feeling virtuous she went down to open some wine. ‘I should’ve known,’ she said no more than five minutes later when Laura appeared, her face also flushed from the sun.

  ‘Known what?’

  ‘That I couldn’t have an hour to myself.’

  ‘What on earth are you talking about? You’ve been out all day, I’ve kept trying to ring you.’ Without asking, Laura took a glass from the cupboard and held it out to Rose with a fake girlish smile.

  Rose laughed. ‘Go on, help yourself. I thought Trevor was home.’

  ‘He is. He’s gone fishing.’

  Rose nodded. She knew that Laura meant with rod and line and bait in the bay. A strange hobby for a deep sea fisherman but Trevor was not the only one who enjoyed it. ‘So you’re bored and decided to come and annoy me.’

  Laura grinned. ‘Yes, that’s about right. Oh, I saw Lucy this morning, she’s gone back to work.’

  ‘Good. It’ll help take her mind off it all.’

  ‘I suppose so. And her boyfriend’s now out of the picture.’

  ‘What? Because of what happened?’ Rose was indignant on Lucy’s behalf.

  ‘Not exactly. I got the impression that it was more Lucy’s decision than his. Gwen told me she hadn’t been returning his calls. Anyway, she saw him with someone else and she says that’s fine by her.’

  ‘He didn’t waste time.’ Rose sipped her wine and reached for her cigarettes.

  ‘I don’t suppose he’s got much time. The girl’s down here on holiday.’

  ‘How on earth do you know that?’

  ‘You’re not the only one with too much curiosity. Lucy’s friend spoke to Jason and Lucy related the gist of the conversation to me.’

  Down on holiday. Another teenage girl. ‘Where does she live?’

  Laura laughed. ‘You’ve got me there. I didn’t get as far as finding that out, only that her name’s Liz. Why?’

  ‘I just wondered.’

  ‘Come on, Rose, I can see by your face there’s more to it than that.’

  ‘All right, there is. And I’m going to have to tell Jack.’ She paused. If her suspicions were correct then Lucy Chandler might be in trouble. ‘Dave Fox was taken in for questioning again.’

  ‘Rose, you’ve lost me already.’

  ‘Dave, my gardener. He was working on someone’s garden at a time when no one was home and the place got broken into. Fortunately the police now seem satisfied that it happened some time after he left.’

  ‘Rose, what have you got yourself into now?’ Laura was frowning as she pushed her glass around the table. Her friend’s aptitude to land in trouble worried her.

  Over a second glass of wine Rose explained her theory.

  ‘If that’s true, and I think you might be right after what you told me before about Jason, there’s unhappiness in store for several people. And, yes, you do have to tell Jack. But can any of this be connected to what’s happened to those girls?’

  Rose shook her head. ‘Impossible to guess. But there are just too many connections for it to be coincidence.’

  ‘Look, I’m going now. Trevor promised he wouldn’t be late, which is no guarantee he won’t be, but I’d rather be there when he gets back.’ Laura stood and picked up her keys which lay on the table. ‘Ring Jack the minute I’ve gone.’

  ‘I will.’ Rose watched from the doorway until Laura was out of sight then went straight to the telephone. I should’ve mentioned this on Saturday, she thought, or even on Sunday morning. If I’d done so then I might have prevented this robbery and the anguish Dave and Eva have been through.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s me, Rose.’ She was surprised at the abruptness of Jack’s tone when he answered his telephone.

  ‘It’s been a long day.’

  ‘Well, I won’t keep you. It’s just that, well, there’s something I think you ought to know. It’s all guesswork, really, and it mightn’t be the same girl …’

  ‘For God’s sake, Rose, what are you talking about?’

  ‘There’s no need to snap.’ She waited.

  ‘All right, I apologise. Start from the beginning.’

  ‘Lucy Chandler’s ex-boyfriend, Jason Evans, is seeing a girl called Liz. I don’t know her surname or her address, only the fact that she’s down here on holiday. I also happen to know that the granddaughter of the family who were burgled is called Liz and that she’s staying with them.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Come on, Jack, think about it. Perhaps she told Jason that no one would be in that day.’

  ‘So Jason’s our thief. Just like that you’ve solved several cases on the assumption of a girl’s first name.’

  I don’t know why I bother, she thought as she inhaled deeply. ‘On a bit more than that, actually. Jason is unemployed yet he gave Lucy a very expensive looking watch.’

  ‘Perhaps he’s got savings, perhaps his parents give him hand outs.’

  ‘Okay, Jack. Goodbye. I’ll speak to you another time.’ She hung up. Of c
ourse Jack was right, she had next to nothing to go on but it did all seem to fit. He could at least have listened politely instead of biting her head off. And then she felt guilty. He’s tired, probably very tired and these burglaries are nothing in comparison to rape and murder. Her hand was on the receiver to ring him back when her own phone rang.

  ‘I’ll send someone round to speak to Jason Evans. I’m sorry, Rose, I’m tired and hungry and the lack of progress in the Nicky Rolland case is getting to us all. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I thought when we had Dave Fox in again we might be getting somewhere and I’ve also had another word with Rod Hill. Witnesses prove he was in the pub all of that Sunday evening and he was seen in his garden around the time of Helen Trehearne was attacked. It looks as if he’s in the clear.’ He sighed. ‘Rose Trevelyan, you’re a very trying woman but I love you.’

  Rose’s grip on the receiver tightened. It was rarely that Jack voiced his emotions and it always took her by surprise. Do I love him, she wondered. Yes, I do, in a way. In lots of ways. She had known that for some time but to admit it would lead Jack to expect more than she could offer him.

  ‘Friends?’ he asked, half guessing at what was going through her mind.

  ‘Yes, friends. Will you let me know the outcome?’

  ‘If I can. I’ll be in touch. And, thanks, Rose.’

  She, too, was tired and hungry, but nicely tired, from a surfeit of sunshine and fresh air and satisfying work. It was time to make something to eat.

  Later, she was thinking there was something almost decadent about going to bed early, when the sun was still shining, and lying in bed with the curtains undrawn, reading until darkness made it impossible to continue. But this is what she did. And then she closed her eyes and tried to decide what to do about the one thing she had not mentioned to Jack.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Doreen called in to see Nathan briefly on her way to work. She was sure she had persuaded him to start looking for a job and she wanted to keep the pressure up. The only way to succeed with him was to keep nagging until he gave in. As she crossed the road she was aware of the heat which was already building up and knew that she would be exhausted by the time she had finished both of her cleaning jobs that day.

  It was not quite eight o’clock but Nathan was dressed, his face smooth from recent shaving. It pleased her to see him continuing to take care of himself. Many men didn’t bother when they were left on their own. She doubted that Cyril would bother to come into the house except to sleep if anything happened to her.

  ‘I’ve made a few calls,’ Nathan told her. ‘One sounds quite hopeful. I’ve got to go and see old man Trevean soon. The trouble is the car’s been playing me up and it’s got to go into the garage. They’re more trouble than they’re worth at times.’

  ‘I’m real gladdened, Nathan. If you need a lift, come over and tell me. Otherwise don’t forget to let me know how you get on.’ Satisfied that all was well and her tactics had worked Doreen got into her car and drove off to her first cleaning job of the day.

  Later that evening, having washed up their supper dishes and tidied the kitchen she made two pint mugs of tea. One she took out to Cyril who was in a world of his own, busy with the watering-can, a cloud of pipe smoke encircling his head. The second she placed by the telephone. She was in the mood for a chat and decided to ring a couple of friends. It was Rose’s number she dialled first. ‘How’s Evelyn getting along?’

  ‘Dad says she’s tired a lot of the time but she’s making slow progress.’ There wasn’t much more she could say to the numerous but well meaning enquiries.

  ‘That’s the main thing. Sounds a bit like Nathan really. He’s keeping that house like a new pin, much to my amazement. And now, God bless ’en, he’s got hisself a television and video. I’m surprised he knows how the thing do work. And to cap it all, this morning he tells me he’s got an interview for a job. Good luck to ’im, that’s what I say.’

  Rose smiled as Doreen paused for breath and took a noisy sip of her tea, one of the many mugfuls she drank in the course of a day. But why shouldn’t Nathan make progress? Look at Barry, a man Rose had believed to have been too old, too set in his ways to ever change. Now he was buying new clothes and decorating his flat. Nathan was proving to be stronger than he had appeared to most people but Rose has sensed some inner strength. As with the fête, Doreen was not afraid to show how proud of him she was.

  She listened to Doreen’s chatter for a couple more minutes then tactfully ended the conversation by saying she was in the middle of cooking her meal and didn’t want it to spoil. Farm work, Doreen had said, it was work Nathan was used to and he would be ideally suited to it because he wouldn’t have to make small talk or try to please people from behind a counter or a desk. Things were looking good for him.

  Remaining beside the telephone it occurred to Rose that she had not yet spoken to her mother since her return home from hospital. ‘She’s resting,’ her father had told her when she called on Saturday evening, and again when she rang on Sunday. ‘They told us to expect that she’d be very tired for a while.’

  ‘Don’t disturb her, just tell her I rang and give her my love.’ She wanted very much to hear Evelyn’s voice, to be reassured that she really was making progress, but to wake her might delay that progress.

  ‘She had an hour or so sitting in the garden,’ Arthur told his daughter when he phoned her on Tuesday. ‘I’ve made her go up for a lie down, she looks a bit grey. You know your mother, Rose, she’s as stubborn as you. She insists she’s fine when it’s obvious she isn’t.’

  ‘I’ll come up, Dad. You need a break and I can make sure she does as she’s told.’

  Arthur snorted. ‘Fat chance of that after all these years. But no, maybe next week. I’d, well, it sounds daft as we’ve never been apart, but I’d like her to myself at the moment. It’s a chance to repay the way she’s always looked after me.’

  Rose felt tears in her eyes. Even as a child she had known her parents’ marriage was somehow different from others. They had worked side by side on the farm, never far apart and had continued in that way since their retirement. She often wondered whether it was because she had been led by example or whether it was pure luck that she had picked the man who had made her so happy. He picked me, really, Rose thought, recalling how insistent David had been, how, after only a fortnight he had told her he loved her. They had married within a year. We were so young, we could have been so wrong, she thought. ‘All right, but remember you can ring me at any time and I’ll come.’

  It had been another hot day with a visit to the library followed by the final session on the Poldhu painting. ‘I’m improving,’ Rose told herself as she stood scrutinising the canvas which was propped against the larder wall. But she felt restless, her father’s call had disturbed her. She prayed he wasn’t holding anything back, that her mother was simply tired, no more than that. She picked up her bag, locked the kitchen door behind her and, having made sure her mobile phone was charged up and on, walked quickly down the hill. She had decided upon a circular route, a long walk to ensure she would sleep. Having crossed Newlyn Green she walked up Alexandra Road, turned right into Alverton Road and continued on up the steep hill which was Penalverne Drive. Keeeping up the pace, her calf muscles began to ache.

  She could feel the steady beating of her heart and took slower, longer breaths until she finally came to West Cornwall Hospital. She waited to cross the road wondering whether her choice of direction had some Freudian connection. There was no reason to have come this way, there was far more to see along the Promenade.

  The homeward journey was downhill. She reached the top of Causewayhead and kept walking towards the sea. There was a queue for the cinema but she couldn’t decide which of the three films was attracting such a crowd. None of them appealed to her. By the time she was back in Newlyn she was totally calm and in need of a rest. I’ll repay Laura with an unexpected visit, she decided as she neared her house. When Laura let her
in Rose regretted her impulse because her friend already had company. Gwen and Lucy Chandler were seated in her living-room, gin and tonics in their hands.

  ‘Don’t be stupid, the more the merrier,’ Laura said when Rose apologised and said she’d leave. ‘We’re celebrating their return to work. I take it you won’t say no to a stiff gin even if you are dressed like a tramp.’ She winked at Rose. Rose looked down. Her rope espadrilles had seen better days, her denim skirt was splattered with paint, only her blouse was tidy. She probably had paint in her hair, too, because she had left it loose that day. Clothes had never meant much to her unless she was going somewhere special.

  Gwen and Lucy both appeared more relaxed than when she had last seen them but there was a long way to go yet. Rose had come for a gossip with Laura but knew it would not be appropriate. She allowed the other women to run the conversation.

  ‘It wasn’t easy on Monday,’ Lucy said. ‘I know people had guessed but they didn’t say anything.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, I must stop talking about it.’

  ‘We’re making some changes,’ Gwen continued. ‘Something like this brings home to you that life is for living. When I think of that other poor girl.’ Her hand shook as she reached for her drink. ‘Anyway, we’ve decided to redecorate Lucy’s bedroom as a start. She’s picked the paper and I’m going to make the curtains. I used to sew a lot when the children were small. Unfortunately I lent my sewing-machine to my daughter-in-law and I’ve never seen it since.’

  ‘Borrow mine,’ Rose said. ‘It hasn’t been out of the cupboard for years. I used to make my own clothes in the days when it was cheaper than buying them.’

  ‘Could I?’

  ‘If you’re going to be here for a while I’ll go home and bring it down in the car then give you both a lift home.’

  ‘I’d really appreciate that.’ Gwen smiled. It was the first time Rose had seen her do so.

  ‘Shall I come and give you a hand?’ Lucy asked.