A Shroud for Delilah (DCI Webb Mystery Book 1)

by Anthea Fraser

  ‘You’ll be interviewing all her friends, surely, everyone who knew her?’

  ‘Of course, but any help you can give us—’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t, not on that point.’ She waited, not breathing, for him to probe further, but though Webb noticed her tension he let it go.

  The telephone shrilled, making them all jump. Sergeant Jackson reached out and lifted it, then looked at Webb.

  ‘Mr Romilly, sir. He wants to speak to his wife.’

  Kate didn’t wait for Webb’s nod. She said, ‘Michael!’ on an indrawn breath and ran to the phone.

  ‘Kate? My God, are you all right? What in heaven’s name happened?’

  Her eyes swam with tears and she closed them, tipping the large drops down her cheeks. ‘Oh, Michael,’ she whispered.

  ‘Shall I come straight down? I could be there in forty minutes.’

  A picture of Jill floated across Kate’s mind and she steadied herself. ‘No, I’m all right. The police are here.’ He’d know that, of course. She added in a rush, ‘But if you could come tomorrow—’

  ‘Will someone stay overnight?’

  ‘I think so, yes.’

  ‘Right. I’ll be there first thing. Try to get some sleep, darling.’

  Sergeant Jackson took the phone from her. The endearment was automatic, she was thinking. He probably didn’t realize he’d said it. Thankfully she saw the Chief Inspector was on his feet.

  ‘Right, Mrs Romilly, we’ll leave you now to get some sleep. Miss Lucas will stay with you. She’ll be quite comfortable on the sofa if you can spare a blanket.’

  Kate looked helplessly about her. ‘There must be one somewhere.’

  Webb nodded to Jackson and the two men took their leave. Mary Lucas regarded Kate sympathetically. ‘Did the doctor give you something to help you sleep?’

  ‘Yes. It’s here.’ Kate fumbled in her handbag and produced a small white envelope containing a couple of tablets. ‘I’d better take them now.’

  She moved as though she were asleep already, the policewoman thought as Kate went to the kitchen. The tea caddy had been put back on the wrong shelf and she mechanically replaced it.

  ‘Your little boy’s a sound sleeper,’ Mary said with a smile as she accompanied Kate upstairs in search of a blanket. Together they peeped into Josh’s room. The child lay on his back, arms flung above his head, quilt on the floor. Kate went in softly and replaced it, her hand hovering above his forehead as though, Mary thought, longing to touch him but afraid of waking him. Pity the husband wasn’t here when the poor woman needed him.

  The necessary blanket having been located, Mary retreated. Kate was alone for the first time since she had come hurtling out of the Danes’ house three long hours before. Fumblingly, she started to undress.

  ***

  The Minster clock was chiming a quarter to nine as Michael leant on the bell. Through the glass he watched a rosy-cheeked young woman come towards him. She turned the key, bent to slide back the bolt while Michael waited impatiently.

  ‘Where’s my wife?’ he demanded as she opened the door.

  ‘I’ve just woken her with a cup of tea.’

  ‘Daddy!’

  Josh came flying down the stairs and flung his arms round his father’s waist. Michael could feel the child trembling and was filled with a helpless, protective fury.

  ‘Mrs Dane’s been hurt,’ Josh said against Michael’s jacket, ‘and Miss Lucas is really a policewoman. She’s been looking after Mummy.’

  ‘Yes, old lad, I know.’

  The policewoman gently disengaged Josh. ‘Come along, dear, it’s time for school and your auntie will be waiting.’

  Josh seemed disinclined to let Michael go. ‘Will you be here when I get back?’ he asked, looking up under the soft fall of hair.

  God, what were they doing to him, he and Kate? ‘Yes, Josh, I’ll be here. I promise.’

  He went up the stairs two at a time, swung round at the top of the first flight and started up the second. Kate, wrapping her dressing gown round her, was standing on the landing.

  ‘I heard the bell.’

  He had intended to take her straight in his arms, but something in her stance made him hesitate. She added formally, ‘Thanks for coming, Michael.’

  ‘I wanted to come last night.’ Hell, she might misinterpret that too. He went on quickly, ‘Come down and let’s talk before that girl gets back. I don’t understand how you came to find the body. Was the woman a friend of yours?’

  ‘No, I hardly knew her.’ Michael took her arm as they started back to the first floor and felt it shake under his hand. Remembering the Chief Inspector’s question, she added more honestly than before, ‘I didn’t even like her very much. Somehow that makes it worse.’

  ‘Tell me what happened.’

  They sat at the kitchen table. Mary Lucas had left coffee on a low light and they drank it slowly while Kate again went through the story. She was just finishing when Richard’s voice came from below.

  ‘Kate? May I come up?’

  Without waiting for a reply he started up the stairs. Michael’s mouth tightened and he rose to his feet, moving round the counter into the living room as the other man reached the top of the stairs.

  ‘Oh!’ Richard said flatly, ‘You’re here.’

  ‘As you see. Can I help you?’

  ‘I came to see how Kate is.’ He glanced towards the kitchen but Michael stood his ground.

  ‘She’s all right. I’m looking after her.’

  ‘Well, that makes a change!’

  ‘Oh, please!’ Kate hurried to join them. ‘Don’t start arguing. Richard, there’s some coffee—’

  ‘I think not,’ Michael interrupted. ‘Go and get dressed, Kate. Mowbray’s just going.’

  ‘I shall go,’ Richard said belligerently, ‘if and when Kate asks me. She was glad enough of my support last night.’

  ‘I’ve been hearing about that. Quite a coincidence you were on the doorstep, when you’re staying the other side of town.’

  Richard’s voice rose angrily. ‘You can be damn grateful I was there. Your wife was in a state of collapse when I found her.’

  ‘Yes, Michael,’ Kate put in, peaceably she hoped, ‘he was a great help, really. I don’t know what I’d have done without him.’

  ‘I see. Then it looks as though I needn’t have broken my neck to get here after all.’

  Richard snorted. ‘Don’t give us that. You came for the story, not to hold Kate’s hand!’

  ‘Of all the damned—’

  ‘Hey — what is this? World War Three?’ Martin had appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘You two can be heard all over the building and I’d remind you that, despite everything, we are open for business. Lana’s off her nut down there in case someone comes in and hears you.’

  Michael said shortly, ‘I was proposing to take you to sign your statement, Kate, but you’re obviously not short of escorts. I promised Josh I’d see him after school so I’ll be back at four.’

  And without a glance at the other men, he ran down the stairs.

  There was a minute’s silence, then Richard said quietly, ‘I’m sorry, Kate. I shouldn’t have let him rile me. Are you up to work today?’

  ‘Yes, I don’t want to be alone.’

  ‘Come down when you’re ready, then.’ He turned to the stairs and Martin, catching Kate’s troubled eyes, gave a little shrug and grimace as he followed him. Almost at once, the telephone rang.

  ‘Kate?’ It was Madge’s shaking voice. ‘I’ve only just heard. I didn’t know a thing till that policewoman arrived with Josh. I can’t believe it!’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘What time did you get there last night?’

  Kate thought back to the glance at her watch in the wet porch. ‘Half past nine. Henry asked me to collect that poetry book on the way home.’

  ‘I must have been just ahead of you. I got in as the news was finishing. Kate, I might have passed the murderer!’

/>   ‘They think she was killed between eight and half past.’

  ‘It’s so incredible. Poor, poor Sylvia!’

  Kate closed her eyes, remembering the lamplight, the woman in the chair, the obscenely hovering fly.

  ‘You do remember, don’t you,’ Madge was saying, ‘that half term starts today? The school closes at lunchtime.’

  ‘I’d completely forgotten!’ Frantically Kate wondered how she could cope with Josh while her own movements were so uncertain. There’d be more visits to the police and she’d have to attend the inquest.

  ‘I’ll bring him back here,’ Madge said. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘Madge’ — Kate’s grip tightened on the phone — ‘how — how’s Paul?’

  ‘He was a lot better first thing, but this Sylvia business has knocked him for six. We were wondering if there’s anything we could do for Henry.’

  They talked for a few minutes more, then rang off. Immediately the phone went again.

  ‘Kate?’ The crisp, confident voice of her mother-in-law. ‘My dear, I’ve heard the news on the radio and I’m coming straight down to collect you and Josh. I can’t imagine what Michael’s thinking of, leaving you down there with all those murders going on.’

  Kate said weakly, ‘But my job—’

  ‘They’ll give you a few days off. They must realize you need it. I’ll be with you by lunchtime, so have your case packed.’

  As she turned from the phone Kate felt a tremendous sense of relief. She didn’t know what Michael had told his parents about their problems and at the moment she didn’t care. It would be wonderful to have all decisions taken out of her hands, to allow herself to be looked after — most of all, actually to feel safe.

  When she reached the shop the atmosphere was fraught. Richard and Martin were monosyllabic, Lana red-eyed and edgy.

  Guiltily Kate told them of her mother-in-law’s call.

  ‘An excellent idea,’ Martin said at once. ‘You’re in need of a break.’

  Kate looked anxiously at Richard and he nodded. ‘Don’t worry, we can cope. Do you good to get away from Delilah country for a few days.’

  Lana sneezed and reached for a handkerchief. ‘How’s Josh taken the news?’

  ‘He’s not been told the full story but he senses something’s very wrong. He wanted Michael — Oh God! Michael’s coming at four o’clock and we shan’t be here. His mother won’t have been able to contact him, either.’

  ‘I’ll tell him where you are.’ Richard smiled grimly. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be perfectly civil. Now, if you’re ready we’d better go down to the station and sign those statements.’

  ***

  ‘Right, so what reports have we got in so far?’

  Jackson opened the file in front of him. ‘The hearth rug was sent to the lab. They’ll give us the result as soon as they can. Scenes-of-crime had no joy with wet footprints. Only Mowbray’s and Mrs Romilly’s showed. What time did the rain start last night, do you remember?’

  ‘I wasn’t here. Find out, will you Ken?’

  Jackson nodded. ‘All hospitals in the area have been checked. No reports of anyone coming in with blood-stained clothing. Mowbray’s and Mrs Romilly’s fingerprints were taken for elimination, with the expected results. His didn’t show, hers came up on the bell and both door handles. Also on the dead woman’s hand and in the kitchen. House-to-house inquiries have covered the immediate area and are extending further afield. House and grounds were searched for the weapon, and guess what? No trace. The husband’s under sedation but he seems in the clear. There’s no doubt he was bedded in at the school from seven o’clock till Flint sought him out to break the news at nine forty-four. Oh, and Collins came up with the dead woman’s diary. It was in a locked drawer in her dressing table.’

  ‘Anything of interest?’

  ‘Pretty cryptic. Lots of entries but only initials given. The two latest, both of which appeared at least three times in the last days, were P.N. and R.P. Rumour has it she was having it off with someone from the school, so that’s a likely place to start looking.’

  ‘Great. Now we add the entire staff to our list of suspects, and possibly the senior boys too.’ He paused. ‘You know what’s bugging me, Ken?’

  ‘Yep. She’s the first victim that hasn’t been divorced.’

  ‘Precisely. And that opens up a whole new can of worms. Funny how people clam up, isn’t it, when someone dies? I bet they talked their heads off about her while she was alive, but as soon as she’s dead they’re afflicted with amnesia. Lady Romilly knows more than she’s saying, for a start. Might touch on her husband, perhaps, or even the worthy Mowbray. He’s the better bet, for my money. I know Mike Romilly and I can’t see him taking up with the likes of Sylvia Dane.’

  ‘You reckon Mowbray was the reason they split?’

  ‘We don’t know they have. Let’s go through Mowbray’s movements again and see how the times fit.’

  Jackson flicked the papers in front of him. ‘In Heatherton till seven-thirty, so was late for his Broadminster appointment, arriving about eight. Old couple in Bridgend Road confirm that in general, but they’re not too precise on timing. They did say he stayed for coffee. Mowbray says it was just on nine when he left them. Raining heavily by then and his car wouldn’t start. Leads wet, presumably. Tried to tinker with it for some time. Didn’t like to go back to phone because the bedroom light had gone out and he didn’t want to disturb the old folk. So eventually he abandons the car and was cutting through Monks’ Walk to the taxi rank in Gloucester Street.’

  ‘Um. Doesn’t rule him out, does it?’

  ‘Except that he wouldn’t be hanging about waiting for the body to be discovered.’

  ‘Unless it was a double bluff. Say he killed her before reaching Bridgend Road “about eight,” and then hung around later to be on hand when the body was found. If he’d known Mrs Dane was alone, he also knew her husband was at the school and would be home soon after nine-thirty. He could have done his Samaritan act just as easily with him.’

  ‘Motive?’ asked Jackson laconically.

  ‘What motive does this killer ever have, other than a general revenge for deserted husbands? Mowbray fits that category himself. Old Dane was cuckolded all the time and didn’t know it. Even Michael Romilly’s solo at the moment. Technically all their wives could be at risk. Mrs Dane’s bought it. Where’s Mowbray’s wife, do we know?’

  Jackson shrugged. ‘Probably safely out of the county.’ He paused. ‘But Mrs Romilly isn’t.’ The two men looked at each other. ‘You think she might be on the list?’

  Webb rubbed a hand over his face. ‘She’s getting dangerously close.’

  The phone sounded and Jackson lifted it. ‘OK, Sarge, thanks.’ He looked at Webb.

  ‘Speak of the devil. Mowbray and Mrs R are downstairs waiting to sign statements.’

  They went down the wide linoleumed steps together. Kate and Richard, sitting uneasily in reception, rose to their feet.

  ‘Car start all right this morning, Mr Mowbray?’ Webb asked pleasantly.

  Richard met his eyes. ‘Yes, thanks. It had dried out by the time I went back for it.’

  When the formalities were completed, Kate mentioned her mother-in-law’s proposal. ‘There wouldn’t be any objection, would there, to my being away for a few days?’

  ‘None at all, Mrs Romilly, as long as you can be contacted. How long would it be for?’

  ‘Till Tuesday evening. School starts again on Wednesday.’

  ‘Fine. The inquest’s fixed for today week, the fifth of November.’ He smiled. ‘Don’t worry, though, there won’t be any fireworks. It’s just a question of identification at this stage.’

  They walked out to the reception hall and Webb turned to Richard. ‘One more question, Mr Mowbray, before you go. Have you sold any knives at all over the last few weeks?’

  ‘Not that I recall. Why?’

  ‘As you know, we haven’t found the murder weapon, but it seems cust
om-built for the purpose. A kitchen knife, for instance, would have bent on contact with muscle. What we’re looking for is a shortish, sharp and rigid blade. You’ve no ideas that could be helpful?’

  ‘Not really. We’ve a couple of daggers at the shop, but they’ve not been sold. At least, I don’t think so. I’ll check when I go back and give you a ring.’

  ‘I’d be most grateful.’

  The desk sergeant came across. ‘Excuse me, sir, Forensic on the line.’

  ‘Thanks, Barton.’ He nodded at Richard and Kate, who thankfully took their leave, and went to the desk. Jackson watched him as he nodded a couple of times and made some brief comment down the phone. Old Spiderman was looking tired. Couldn’t be much of a life, returning to an empty flat at all hours and having to set to and cook for yourself. Jackson thought briefly of Mrs W., who’d left the Governor for a bloke who worked nine to five and could plan his holidays in advance. Thank heaven for his own cuddly Millie, who always had a cuppa ready no matter what time he got home.

  He straightened as Webb put down the phone and came towards him, some of his tiredness dropping away. ‘Looks like we’ve the beginnings of a lead at last. As you know, they took the rug for analysis and they’ve come up with a few pinpricks of blood. Mixed with traces of soil, they say — reckon it came from a cat’s claws. Our furry friend of last night, no doubt. The good news is that the blood group isn’t the same as the dead woman’s.’

  ‘Not a usefully rare one like AB, by any chance?’

  ‘That’s the bad news. Group O, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Well, it narrows the suspects to about twenty thousand.’

  ‘No pine needles this time, but I suppose we can’t have everything. So now we embark on checking blood groups, hoping to eliminate a fair number. Get a group of lads organized, will you, Ken. I’ll phone Stonebridge with the latest developments. Then I think we’ve earned ourselves a pie and a pint in the nearest pub. All in the course of duty, mind. You never know what you might learn in a pub!’ And with a tired grin, he turned once more to the phone.

  CHAPTER 18

  Michael arrived at his parents’ home on the Saturday evening. Kate, advised of his coming, kept out of the way while he spent some time with Josh. She felt drained, disorientated, knowing this respite was temporary and she’d have to return to the terrors and suspicions of Broadminster.