David Webb 13 - One Is One and All Alone

by Anthea Fraser

  ‘No, though he might have asked someone at the station.’ She stopped, seeing the significance in the question, and her voice grew incredulous. ‘You think someone he knew might have killed him?’

  ‘It’s surprising he didn’t hear the glass breaking.’

  She moistened her lips, her wide, unfathomable eyes on his face. ‘But if there was a lot of noise on television—’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  She leaned forward urgently. ‘Mr Webb, you can’t really think that? That someone he knew called round, talked with him, and then, when he wasn’t expecting it—?’

  ‘We have to consider all possibilities. Have you by any chance remembered Jane’s address?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry; Malcolm mentioned it, but it’s gone right out of my head.’

  ‘Well, could you give Tim and Sally’s to Sergeant Jackson here, while I have a quick word with Miss Wood?’

  There was only one other door downstairs, and, after a token tap, he pushed it open to find himself in the kitchen. Barbara Wood turned quickly from the sink and Webb checked in the doorway. Had he not known otherwise, he’d have assumed this was the widow; catching her off guard, he’d surprised such a depth of grief in her eyes that he instinctively looked away.

  Rapidly she collected herself. ‘Can I help you, Chief Inspector?’

  ‘If you could spare me a moment.’ He paused. ‘Forgive me — am I right in thinking we’ve met recently?’

  She nodded. ‘At Ashbourne, during all that cult business.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, but he was aware of a tweak of surprise. ‘I’m sorry, I should have recognized you at the time, but out of context—’

  ‘There’s no reason why you should; Malcolm’s wedding to my sister was a long time ago, and I wasn’t able to get to his second. What can I do for you?’

  ‘When was the last time you saw your brother-in-law?’

  ‘At his birthday dinner.’ She gave a half-smile. ‘The day you had lunch with him.’

  ‘How did he seem to you?’

  ‘Frankly, I was worried about him. I thought he was unhappy.’

  Webb nodded slowly, and she said eagerly, ‘You noticed it? I’ve been wondering if I’d imagined it.’

  ‘I thought he seemed down, certainly, but we all have our bad days.’ He’d no intention of telling her about his later conversation with Malcolm. In any case, it was irrelevant now.

  ‘Could it have had any bearing on his death?’ she persisted.

  ‘Miss Wood, anything could. At this stage we don’t even know if his murder was deliberate. It could have been simply an opportunist break-in that went wrong.’

  Barbara nodded, then said diffidently, ‘Una thought I should tell you I tried to phone him yesterday afternoon. There was no reply.’

  ‘What time would that have been?’

  ‘Four o’clock; I remember looking at my watch and wondering if he’d be home.’

  ‘Thank you; that might be useful.’

  Barbara imagined the phone echoing through the house, while Malcolm —

  She said quickly, ‘Is there anything else?’

  ‘Not at the moment. I won’t hold you up any longer.’ They came out of the kitchen together, and as they did so there was a sudden, staccato ring at the doorbell, then the door burst open and a girl came running into the hall. Barbara gave an exclamation and hurried to meet her.

  ‘Jane! Darling, have you—?’

  The girl flung herself into the older woman’s arms. ‘Say it isn’t true!’ she sobbed. ‘Please, please, say it isn’t true!’

  Webb stood awkwardly, unable to pass them in the narrow hallway, and after a moment Barbara Wood put the girl gently from her. ‘This is Chief Inspector Webb, darling. He’s — looking into the matter for us.’

  He smiled at her. ‘Hello, Jane, we’ve been trying to find you. How did you hear about your father?’

  ‘I phoned Steve — my boyfriend — I realized I’d left something at his flat. He said Tim had been trying to get hold of me, so I rang him back.’

  Barbara put an arm round her and turned her towards the sitting-room, but the girl stopped abruptly in the doorway, pulling back as she caught sight of Una.

  ‘What’s she doing here?’ she demanded, her voice starting to rise.

  ‘Jane!’ Barbara sounded genuinely shocked. ‘Una’s staying with me for a few days, until the police have finished at the house.’

  ‘Where were you when Daddy was killed?’ Jane cried hysterically. ‘If you’d been with him, it wouldn’t have happened! But you were never there, were you? Why did you marry him, if you didn’t want to be with him?’

  There was a brief, startled silence, and when Barbara spoke, her voice vibrated with strain. ‘Una, I’m sorry; she’s in shock. Jane, darling, calm down. This isn’t helping anyone.’

  Over their shoulders, Webb could see Jackson’s surprised face and the motionless figure of Una Bennett, standing as if carved out of stone. He cleared his throat.

  ‘We’ll be on our way now,’ he said. ‘I’ll be in touch—’ Jane turned to him swiftly. ‘Could you give me a lift home? My friend dropped me off — she said I wasn’t fit to drive.’

  ‘But darling, you’ve only just got here!’ Barbara protested. ‘Why don’t you—?’

  ‘I’m not staying while she’s here,’ Jane interrupted. She looked at Webb. ‘Please?’

  Webb met Barbara’s eye and shrugged helplessly. ‘If that’s what you want. Sergeant, would you take Miss Bennett out to the car? I shan’t be a minute.’

  Jackson, only too eager to escape from the scene, took the girl’s arm and led her outside. Webb glanced at Una’s expressionless face. ‘As your sister-in-law says, she’s distraught; she doesn’t know what she’s saying.’

  ‘On the contrary,’ Una answered in her low, clear voice, ‘she knows exactly what she’s saying. The question is, is she right? Would Malcolm still be alive, if I’d been there?’

  ‘It’s impossible to say. If it was a personal attack, your presence would only have deferred it.’

  ‘And if it wasn’t?’

  ‘Una, don’t do this to yourself. We can’t all live in each other’s pockets.’

  Hadn’t she said something similar to Barbara, the night of the birthday party?

  ‘All the same,’ she said, and for the first time her voice trembled, ‘I wish I’d spent more time with him.’

  Webb nodded and, unable to think of any further words of comfort, left the two women standing there and went out to the car.

  6

  Jane was in the back of the car. She had dried her eyes and was twisting her handkerchief round her fingers while Ken Jackson, swivelled to face her, was talking in the voice he used to comfort his own children.

  Webb got in beside her. ‘Drive on a short way, Ken, then stop. We might as well have our talk with Jane here.’

  As Jackson complied, Jane said tremulously, ‘You were a friend of Dad’s, weren’t you? And Mum’s as well?’

  ‘Yes, I saw a lot of them at one time.’

  She blew her nose. ‘We thought, when Mum died, that he’d marry Auntie Barbara.’

  Webb looked at her in surprise. Then, remembering the grief on Barbara Wood’s face, wondered if she, too, had expected this. In which case, her offer of accommodation to her sister-in-law was doubly generous.

  He said carefully, ‘Don’t you get on with your stepmother?’ In the driving mirror he saw Ken’s eyebrows shoot up, but damn it, he had to start somewhere.

  ‘No one gets on with her.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘She’s so prickly and unapproachable.’

  ‘Perhaps because she knows you don’t like her? It can’t be easy for her, can it?’ He glanced at the girl’s rebellious face. ‘Your father said you spent a few days at home last week.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And overheard a row they were having?’

  She flushed. ‘I didn’t mean to. It was abo
ut her being out all the time. She was even late for his birthday party.’

  ‘Which was why you lashed out at her just now?’

  Her eyes filled with tears. ‘He was lonely,’ she said.

  Webb put his large hand over hers. ‘I think she realizes that now, and it’s going to make it all the harder for her. She’ll need your help, and Tim and Sally’s, too.’

  Her hand moved protestingly under his, but she made no comment.

  ‘Jane, while you were home those few days, did you get the impression your father was worried about anything? To do with work, perhaps?’

  ‘He told me about the shop raids, but he didn’t seem worried, just annoyed he hadn’t managed to catch anyone.’

  ‘There weren’t any unexplained phone calls or anything like that?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘And you didn’t see anyone hanging round the house?’

  ‘No.’ She gave a little gulp. ‘I wish I could help you, but I can’t.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. All right, we’ll run you home, then.’ He nodded to Jackson to start the car.

  The girl caught at his sleeve. ‘Are you going to Sally’s now?’

  ‘That’s the plan, yes.’

  ‘Could you take me there instead? I — want to be with the family today.’

  ‘Of course.’ Poor kid, he thought; she’d been looking for comfort from her aunt, but her stepmother’s presence had put paid to that. He could only hope that the divided camps within the family would not complicate the investigation into Malcolm’s death.

  At one time, the village of Chedbury had been separated from Shillingham by several miles of countryside, but years of ribbon development had almost joined the two. Even so, Chedbury still maintained its village atmosphere with cobbled square and clock tower, the newer cottages melding happily with their older thatched neighbours. And Chedbury woods and common lay only just beyond.

  As they were entering the village, Webb’s mobile phone rang and he half-turned from the girl beside him to answer it.

  ‘Webb.’

  ‘It’s DS Carter, sir. Have you seen the son-in-law yet — Neil Crawford?’

  ‘We’re on our way now.’ Webb pressed the phone closer to his ear, hoping Carter’s voice wouldn’t reach Jane.

  ‘Glad I caught you, then. Thought you’d like to know he was in here last week, seeing the governor. Paul Frear, one of our DCs, just happened to mention it.’

  ‘How long did he stay?’

  ‘About ten minutes, Paul thought.’

  ‘Has Frear any idea what he wanted?’

  ‘No, but he said the governor looked pretty down in the mouth when he left.’

  ‘Thanks, Sergeant, that might prove useful. I’ll be in touch.’

  Webb could tell, by the set of Jackson’s neck and shoulders, that he was longing to know what might prove useful, but there was no way he could enlighten him in front of Jane. He glanced at the girl slumped beside him.

  ‘Like to guide us the last bit of the way?’

  She said listlessly, ‘It’s the end house on the left.’

  The gates were open and, rather than park on the main road through the village, Jackson drove inside, drawing up alongside an immaculate Mercedes. Neil Crawford was doing all right, Webb thought, looking from the sleek car to the solid, double-fronted house.

  As he stepped on to the gravel, the front door opened and a young woman stood there, pale and red-eyed. Jane ran stumblingly past him and the two clung together for several minutes. Then Sally Crawford raised her head and met Webb’s sympathetic eyes.

  ‘Please come in,’ she said unsteadily. ‘We’ve been expecting you.’

  The house, he realized, stepping inside, wasn’t as large as it appeared, being shallow in structure. A baby’s pram took up much of the hallway.

  Manoeuvring past it, Webb saw a man standing in one of the doorways, and recognized him from the wedding two years ago. Seeing him again, he remembered his initial and illogical dislike; remembered, too, joking to Hannah later that it was probably jealousy, because Crawford was so good looking.

  He introduced himself and Jackson and turned back to Sally. ‘You have our deepest sympathy, you know that. We’re all stunned by what’s happened.’

  She nodded. ‘Thank you. Neil, will you take them into the sitting-room, while Jane and I make coffee.’

  Crawford stood aside, and the detectives walked past him into a fairly large, square room. A pile of Sunday newspapers lay untouched on the floor, and a baby’s jacket was draped over the back of the sofa. Awkwardly, the three men sat down. Webb had no intention of starting the interview, with Crawford’s wife due back any minute, and it was he himself who opened the conversation by saying abruptly, ‘This is a damnable business.’

  ‘Yes,’ Webb agreed unhelpfully. He was aware of Jackson’s acute attention as his bright gaze passed between his own face and Crawford’s.

  ‘Any idea who might have done it?’

  ‘None, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Where’s Una?’

  ‘Staying with Miss Wood at the moment.’

  ‘And that’s where you found Jane?’

  ‘She arrived while we were there, yes.’

  Crawford gave a sardonic smile. ‘And lost no time in leaving again. Understandable, in the circumstances. Tim tried to reach her, but it seems she’s left her boyfriend. News to us.’

  The small talk was blessedly interrupted by the arrival of Sally and Jane, with a tray and coffee pot respectively. Sally glanced uncertainly at Webb. ‘Do you want to speak to us separately, or together?’

  Webb registered Crawford’s quick frown.

  ‘Separately would be best,’ he said equably.

  She nodded. ‘Then we’ll leave you to it.’ She poured the coffee, handed it round, and, accompanied by her sister, left the room again, closing the door behind her.

  Webb said, ‘When did you last see your father-in-law, Mr Crawford?’

  There was a brief pause, then Neil replied, ‘We were over for his birthday dinner.’

  ‘But you saw him after that, didn’t you? At the police station?’

  He coloured angrily. ‘That was a personal matter.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I’d like to hear about it.’

  ‘Is this really necessary?’

  ‘In the circumstances, yes, it is.’

  Crawford sighed ostentatiously. ‘If you insist, though I can’t see that it’s any of your business. I’m having a spot of financial trouble and wondered whether he could help out, that’s all.’

  ‘And did he?’

  The man mouth tightened. ‘No.’

  ‘Which annoyed you?’

  ‘Not to the extent of killing him, if that’s what you’re implying.’

  ‘I’m implying nothing, Mr Crawford. Nevertheless, his death will presumably ease your financial straits.’

  ‘That’s a damnable thing to say!’

  ‘Just how serious are they?’

  ‘I can extricate myself, if that’s what you mean, but he could have made it a damn sight easier, if he’d had the mind to.’

  ‘Apart from that, did you get on well with him?’

  Another pause, then, presumably deciding honesty was the best policy, ‘Not particularly.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘No special reason. I’d nothing really against him, we just weren’t kindred spirits.’

  What had Malcolm said? I’m not too keen on Sally’s husband.

  ‘And I suppose your last meeting was acrimonious?’

  ‘Yes.’ He looked down at his hands. ‘I regret that.’

  ‘Do you know of anyone who had a grudge against him?’

  Crawford shook his head.

  Webb looked at him consideringly. ‘I gather, from your remark earlier, that you don’t get on with Mrs Bennett, either?’

  Crawford relaxed slightly, more comfortable in denigrating the living. ‘The woman’s an absolute pain.’

  ‘In w
hat way?’

  ‘She came charging in out of the blue and changed everything. Not only the house and furniture but the whole family atmosphere.’

  ‘Did you know the first Mrs Bennett?’

  ‘Only briefly. She was seriously ill when I met Sally, and died before we were married. If she’d lived, it would all have been very different.’

  ‘But apart from her changing things, which was inevitable, you’ve nothing concrete against the present Mrs Bennett?’

  ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘Would you say their marriage was happy?’

  ‘Who really knows about someone else’s marriage? They seemed all right, but she was as different from Carol as it was possible to be.’

  Webb said reflectively, ‘Where were you, yesterday afternoon?’

  The change of direction seemed to throw Crawford. He stiffened, was on the point of making a vociferous protest, then thought better of it and answered sullenly, ‘I went to the DIY then on to the garden centre.’

  ‘Was your wife with you?’

  ‘No, she was still feeding the baby when I left.’

  ‘So you went out at what time?’

  ‘Soon after two, I suppose.’

  ‘And got back when?’

  ‘Going on for four. I couldn’t get what I wanted at the first place, and had to search around for it.’

  ‘See anyone you knew?’

  ‘No.’ He stared challengingly across at Webb, as though daring him to make some assumption.

  But Webb merely said, ‘Very well, Mr Crawford, that’s all for now. Would you ask your wife to come in, please?’

  Sally sat down in the chair her husband had vacated and said flatly, ‘I still don’t believe it’s happened.’

  ‘I’m finding it hard myself.’ Webb paused. ‘Did you know your husband had asked your father for a loan?’

  She flushed. ‘Yes, but only afterwards.’

  ‘You’d have tried to stop him?’

  ‘Of course I would. We can manage if we have to, without going begging to anyone.’

  ‘Have you got a job yourself?’

  ‘I have, but I’m still on maternity leave. It’s meant we’ve had to pull in the strings a bit.’