Dirty Secrets

by JANICE FROST

  “The police will probably need to talk to you and Aunt Lizzie again. And me, I expect.”

  “They’ve already spoken to Lizzie and me, the morning I found your father.”

  “Yes, but that was immediately afterwards. You were upset. I imagine other questions have arisen since then.”

  “Such as?”

  “I don’t know, Mum. I’m not a bloody cop. Family always fall under suspicion, don’t they? They say most murders are committed by someone close to home.” Ruth sounded bitter.

  Val glanced in the rear-view mirror. Cam was fast asleep. Lizzie had played with him since the crack of dawn and tired him out.

  Ruth added, in what seemed like an afterthought, “I didn’t mean you’d fall under suspicion, Mum. Apart from anything else, you were with me in Cambridge when . . . when it happened.”

  Yes. The perfect alibi.

  If anyone thought she needed one.

  Chapter Five

  Ava and Neal stood on the doorstep of the Hamiltons’ nineteen thirties semi. “Bit modest compared to her sister’s place, isn’t it?” Ava remarked.

  She knocked, and Lizzie Hamilton soon appeared. Today her zigzag harem pants had been replaced with a tunic-style ethnic-print dress, a pair of black leggings, and furry bootie slippers. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee spilled out into the hallway. Ava was happy to accept a cup.

  In contrast to her sister’s elegant, tidy home, Lizzie’s house felt lived-in. It wasn’t untidy, but it was filled with cushions and scattered magazines, and photographs and pictures crowded the walls. One in particular caught Ava’s eye. It showed a smiling dark-haired boy of around fourteen with his arm around a fat Labrador. With a pang, she realised that this must be Will.

  Lizzie brought their coffee. “Stephen will be here in a minute. He’s just texted to say he’s on his way. He’s doing a big rewiring job on an old house in Herriot Street.”

  “Is that your son?” Ava pointed at the photograph.

  “Yes, that’s my Will,” Lizzie answered softly.

  “He’s lovely. Your eyes, I’d say.”

  Lizzie smiled. “When he was a baby he was often mistaken for a girl because of his lovely big eyes and long lashes. I didn’t mind.” A faraway look came into her eyes, and then passed. “That’s Flossie with him. She was a lovely dog. Will loved her to bits. Broke his heart when she died. Are you an animal lover, Sergeant Merry?”

  “I’m more of a cat person really. I have a fat moggie called Camden.”

  The sound of a van drawing up outside heralded the arrival of Stephen Hamilton. He seemed nervous at finding two detectives in his sitting room, even though they were the reason he’d come home from work at this hour of the day. Still, there was nothing strange in that. The mere presence of the police can make perfectly innocent people feel guilty.

  Lizzie brought coffee for her husband, and then tactfully withdrew.

  Stephen’s anxiety seemed to escalate following his wife’s departure. He was a tall, gangly man, and sat folded up on the sofa like a giant stick insect, all twitchy arms and legs.

  “Relax, Mr Hamilton,” Neal said kindly. “It’s routine for us to interview members of the immediate family when someone dies in suspicious circumstances.”

  “I still can’t believe it,” Stephen said. “We were round at Val’s only a few weeks back, and Russ looked as strong as an ox.”

  Ava tried not to roll her eyes. Well, he hadn’t died of a wasting disease, had he? Up until the moment his brains parted company with his skull, he would have been perfectly healthy.

  “What was your relationship with your brother-in-law, Mr Hamilton?” she asked. “Were you on good terms?”

  “I . . . I suppose so. I didn’t see all that much of him really, just on family occasions, like birthdays, and Lizzie and I were sometimes invited to parties at his and Val’s house. I wouldn’t say we were mates, as such. We don’t — didn’t — have much in common. He was a businessman.”

  “You’re a businessman too, aren’t you, Mr Hamilton?” Ava said.

  “I’m not in Russ’s league, Sergeant,” Stephen said. “Russ used to work in the City. He were a very successful man as I’m sure you know. I’m an electrician by trade. I employ between two and five sparkies at any given time, and I have someone who comes in part-time to do the books. All very modest. And it’s still more than I can cope with.”

  “You received a loan from Cornish and Marsh to expand your business,” Neal stated.

  “Yes. It were Val’s idea. She spoke to Russ. He and his partner don’t usually touch people like me. Not much of a return in it for them. I think Paul Cornish took some persuading.”

  “So the investment was more of a favour for a family member.”

  Stephen looked offended. “It were an investment, not a gift, Inspector Neal.”

  “And is your business doing well?”

  “It’s . . . ticking over.” He lowered his voice, perhaps afraid that Lizzie might be listening. “To tell the truth, I’m a bit worried now that Russ is gone. I’m not getting as much work as I’d like at the moment. I might have to let some of my employees go. Being a businessman’s just not in my blood. I were happy enough working by myself, getting my work where I found it. Trouble is, I saw that big house of Val’s and happened to say to her that I wished I could earn a bit more for Lizzie’s sake, you know? Next thing I know, I’m a contractor. I tell you, the extra money’s not worth the stress. I’m worried the profits aren’t enough. I were going to talk to Russ about it.”

  “Can’t you talk to Paul Cornish instead? Wouldn’t he be sympathetic?” Neal asked.

  Stephen’s eyes darted around the room. The mention of Paul Cornish’s name seemed to make him uneasy, almost fearful.

  “Mr Hamilton?” Neal prompted. “Is something worrying you?”

  “What? No. I were just thinking. Like you said, I’ll probably have to make an appointment to speak to Cornish about my financial situation. I’m not looking forward to it, that’s all.”

  “Why not speak to Val?” Ava asked.

  “Why would I do that? Val doesn’t know anything about finance.”

  Ava shrugged. “Maybe she could put your case to Paul Cornish. She must have some influence. After all, her husband was Cornish’s business partner.”

  “If Val’s got any sense, she’ll steer well clear of that man.” Stephen’s voice shook, the fear in his eyes replaced by anger.

  “You don’t like Paul Cornish?” Ava asked.

  “What? I didn’t say that. He’s just not my sort of person, that’s all.” Ava let it go. For now.

  “And what about Lizzie?” she asked. “What was her relationship with Russ?”

  Stephen looked startled. “Surely you don’t think . . . ?”

  “Just answer the question, please, Mr Hamilton,” Neal said.

  “Lizzie liked him well enough.”

  “We’ve heard differently. I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling us, Mr Hamilton,” Ava said.

  Stephen raised his hand. He wasn’t an intimidating figure, but at the mention of his wife, he seemed to grow in stature. He pulled himself upright in his chair and for the first time made eye contact. “Don’t go upsetting Lizzie with all this, please.” He gave a sigh, and shook his head. “People are going to tell you that Lizzie hated Russ, but that’s not true. She just couldn’t forgive him for what happened to her son, Will. Over the years, she’s made a big effort to hide her feelings about him, for her sister’s sake.”

  “Will died in a fire at his home,” Ava said. “Does Lizzie think Russ was responsible in some way?”

  “Not directly. I mean, she knows he didn’t start the fire. It’s just . . .” He sighed. “Lizzie and Val were going on a shopping expedition and staying overnight. Craig, Lizzie’s first husband, was working away. Will were fourteen, old enough to be left on his own, but Lizzie didn’t like leaving him in the house by himself at night, even at that age. Russ said he’d pick
Will up from school, take him for a burger and then to a football match, and then on to his and Val’s house for the night. The thing is, Russ got delayed. Something to do with business. The fire was reported at nine o’clock. They found Will in the living room, overcome by the smoke.”

  A silence followed. Ava guessed Neal would be thinking of his own son, Archie, and the horror of losing a child in such a terrible manner. She cleared her throat. “So Lizzie blamed Russ for Will’s death because he put business first?”

  “Yes.” Stephen’s eyes shone with tenderness and regret.

  Ava couldn’t blame Lizzie for feeling the way she did.

  “Is there anything else you’d like to tell us, Mr Hamilton?” Neal asked.

  “No. I hope you find out who killed Russ, I really do. Do you have any . . . any leads?” There was something like hopefulness in his voice, or was it despair? Ava couldn’t work out which.

  Neal provided the usual cliché. “We’re exploring various avenues of investigation.” He paused. “Were you aware that Russ had a World War Two revolver in the drawer of his desk, Mr Hamilton?”

  “Yes. It were a beauty. Hard to believe Russ were shot with his own grandfather’s gun. Ironical, in’t it?” He shook his head, looked down, opened his mouth to speak, and then collapsed back into the sofa. His eyes were guarded again. What was up with him? Was it merely reaction to Russ’s death?

  Neal stood up. “Thanks for your time, Mr Hamilton. Be sure to call if you have any more to tell us.”

  As if on cue, Lizzie Hamilton came back into the room. She gave her husband a look of concern, Ava and Neal one of reproach. They left her to bring her husband back from whatever pit of self-torment he’d fallen into.

  Ava started the car. “Did you see his reaction when Paul Cornish’s name came up? Like a frightened bunny. I can’t believe it’s just because he’s scared Paul will hassle him over his poor profits.”

  “I’m inclined to agree.”

  “Well, you offered him the chance to speak out if he knew something, but he just shut down. Pity we didn’t get Lizzie on her own. I’d like to ask if he’s always so nervy and anxious. Makes you wonder what he’s not saying, doesn’t it? Or whether he might have something to hide himself?”

  Neal said nothing. He seemed deep in thought. Myrna, Ava guessed. Had she charmed her way right back into his life? Oh, why couldn’t she just come right out and ask him? Neal’s face, as always, gave nothing away.

  * * *

  Dana Schell had just been to the spa to get her nails done. Gail had made the appointment for herself, forgetting it was parents’ evening at the twins’ school, and rather than cancel, she’d decided to give Dana a treat. Now, admiring her neatly manicured fingernails, Dana was feeling a bit treacherous about slagging off almost every member of the Cornish family to the two detectives. Well, she did dislike them, with the possible exception of Hector. Paul had been good to her, though. Good? Was that the right word? She’d caught him eyeing her up almost from the moment she walked through the door of Kingfisher Lodge. He’d only needed a nudge from her to cheat on his wife.

  Still, Dana had to admit that her behaviour towards Gail was shabby. She blamed boredom. Her duties at Kingfisher Lodge weren’t demanding, and having illicit sex with Paul whenever the opportunity arose provided a distraction. If it hadn’t been for the excitement of the affair, and the ‘tips’ — Paul didn’t like to think he was paying for sex — Dana would probably have quit her job at Kingfisher Lodge a long time ago.

  She had to admit that she particularly enjoyed having sex right under the noses of the other family members. They’d done it practically all over the house. Once they’d even done it on the boat while Gail was sunbathing in the garden. It hadn’t taken more than ten minutes. Gail thought Paul was ‘showing Dana the ropes.’ Anyway, Gail was no angel herself, sleeping with that dead man, Russ Marsh!

  It had seriously creeped Dana out when the police spoke to her after interviewing Gail. The things she could have told them! Slagging everyone off hadn’t been particularly clever, though. It only occurred to her later that she hadn’t included Paul in her rant about the Cornishes. What would the police make of that?

  She’d almost spilled everything when they asked what she’d overheard that time when Paul and Russ Marsh were slugging it out in the study. She hoped she’d managed to convince them that she hadn’t heard a thing. She’d sweated it a bit at that point. Surely, they must be able to read people pretty well in their line of work. Still, they’d seemed satisfied with what she’d told them.

  DI Neal had seemed a bit stern. Not really her type. He was pretty hot, though. She wouldn’t say no, given the opportunity. His assistant, sergeant or whatever she was, seemed okay. Dana was sure she’d seen her in the clubs in town. She probably knew how to have a good time, unlike her anally retentive boss.

  All in all, it was time she got right away from this rotten family. Russ’s death had spooked her big time. Suddenly she realised she was in way above her head. With Gail out and Paul at work, she planned to make her escape this evening. She’d already booked her flight to Oz. No harm in having her nails done first, was there? For free. Her taxi wasn’t coming until eight.

  There was a shortcut back to Kingfisher Lodge, a path that cut through a wooded area beside one of the lakes. Dana hesitated a moment. It was already getting dark and the path wasn’t well lit. Come on, Dana, this place is gated. It’s as safe as houses.

  Halfway along the path, she began to feel uneasy. It’s just the trees, she told herself, and all those creepy fairy tales where bad things happen in woods.

  Dana quickened her pace. The feeling intensified. She imagined she could hear rustling in the bushes lining the left-hand side of the path. Twigs snapping. A shadow moving in the trees.

  But it wasn’t her imagination. Her fears materialised suddenly, ahead of her on the path. A man, hurtling towards her.

  His eyes glittered. There was no mistaking his intent.

  Chapter Six

  Ava was at Stromford hospital. A little while ago, she’d been surprised to receive a text message from Dr Joel Agard, an A&E doctor at Stromford County Hospital. She and Joel had had a fling a few months back, but he’d been looking for more commitment than Ava was ready to make, so they’d parted — on friendly terms. Joel had been dating someone else for a while now, and when she saw the text, Ava wondered whether this relationship too had ended in disappointment. Perhaps he was in need of a shoulder to cry on.

  Happily for Joel, his message wasn’t about a break-up. When she called him back, he explained that he had a patient with possible concussion, who’d been blathering about finding a dead body. She was confused, and Joel hadn’t been able to elicit any coherent details from her.

  Now Ava was on her way to the Emergency Assessment Unit, or EAU. Joel’s patient, whose name was Tara Spears, had been transferred from the A&E for observation.

  Maybe Tara was simply rambling, or else she’d been reading or watching a murder mystery recently and was confusing real memories with fiction.

  Ava found Tara sitting up in a chair by her bed, fully clothed. She certainly didn’t look delusional. A copy of The Times newspaper lay across her lap and she was studying the crossword, which was half filled in.

  “Hi,” Ava said. She showed Tara her ID. “I’m Detective Sergeant Ava Merry. I understand you think you might have found a body?”

  “Oh, thank goodness. That doctor said he’d contact the police, but I wasn’t sure if you’d get the message. Everyone’s so busy here. And I wasn’t sure if they believed me because of the bump.” Tara tapped the side of her forehead where a rectangle of gauze was secured with tape.

  “Tell me what you saw,” Ava said, drawing up an orange plastic chair.

  “I was out running. I left the house at around seven like I do every morning. It normally takes me about eight minutes to reach the woods.”

  “What woods?” Ava asked.

  “At Crystal Lakes.
That’s where I live.”

  Oh, Ava thought. Now what?

  “I think it must have been around seven fifteen when I came across this woman’s body.” Tara looked embarrassed. “I went off the path a bit because I needed to pee. I think she’d been lying there all night.”

  “What made you think that?”

  “Her clothes looked damp. It rained during the night, didn’t it?”

  Ava nodded, remembering her leaking gutter. “Did you get a look at her face?”

  “Yes. Her eyes were sort of staring and empty.”

  “Uh-huh. Did you touch her?”

  Tara gulped. “Yes. First, I asked her if she was okay, even though I knew she wasn’t. She didn’t answer, so I knelt beside her and gave her a shake. She . . . she felt stiff. It really scared me. I decided to run back home and call the police. I was almost at my house when I tripped and struck my head on a wall. Next thing I know, I’m in an ambulance with a king-sized headache. I think the paramedic thought I was concussed when I started telling him about the body.”

  “It’s alright,” Ava soothed. “We’ll check it out.”

  “Will you let me know what happens?”

  “Of course.” Ava turned to go. Feeling like a hypocrite, for she did it herself, she said, “It’s not such a great idea running through the woods alone.” Tara nodded. Ava had the feeling that it would be a long time before she ventured into those woods again. “You take care of yourself. I’ll be in touch.”

  She left Tara with her crossword and walked over to the nurses’ station where she interrupted a couple of staff nurses deep in conversation. She showed them her ID.

  “Can you tell me how Tara Spears is getting on now? Dr Agard said she was a bit confused when she came in earlier.”

  “Is she still going on about finding a body in the woods?” one of the nurses asked.

  “That’s kind of why I’m here.”

  “Well, she lost consciousness for a while, so we’re keeping her in for observation. She did seem a bit confused earlier, but she’s doing really well now. We thought maybe she’d stumbled across a vagrant sleeping rough in the woods?” They looked at her expectantly. “So, are you taking it seriously?”