‘Right, so then maybe Josh found out, and killed her.’
‘Except he says he didn’t know Peter, and didn’t know that Sophie knew him either.’
‘His parents were with him when you asked him that though, weren’t they? Maybe he’s hiding something from them.’
‘True. We also have to add Blake Hamilton to the list. He seemed more upset than his son, but purely from the angle that Josh wasn’t going to get the chance to marry into English aristocracy. Honestly, Ian, you saw the state of the Whittakers’ house – why on earth would you want to take on that as a dowry?’
Barnes coughed on his sweet. ‘Tax deduction?’
‘Very funny.’
Twenty
Kay cursed under her breath as a tractor passed perilously near to the right wing of the car before it powered away and roared up the narrow lane behind her. She accelerated away from the grass verge and chuckled as Carys exhaled loudly. ‘Yeah, he was a bit too close.’
‘I spent some time online last night looking up about those purity pledges,’ said Carys as the car increased speed.
‘Anything interesting?’
‘Well, it seems that unplanned pregnancies amongst teenagers that have taken a purity pledge is higher than those that don’t.’
‘Really? So much for remaining chaste, eh?’
‘Might go some way to explain how Sophie ended up pregnant, though. Apparently neither the parents nor the churches involved ever think to educate their daughters about safe sex. They seem to think that once the girls take the pledge, they can forget about having to have that conversation. Like it’s swept under the carpet.’ Carys looked out of the window at the fields passing by in a blur. ‘It’s almost as if they’re washing their hands of the responsibility.’
‘That certainly ties in with this case by the look of it.’
‘Although Peter maintains he used a condom both times.’
Kay shrugged. ‘Accidents happen, I guess.’
‘I think it stinks that it’s only the girls that take the pledge,’ said Carys, warming to her subject. ‘Apparently, the boys don’t, and can sleep with who they like. The women are expected to forgive the men for any indiscretions up to the day they marry someone. The divorce rate is disproportionately high, too among those groups. It’s sad, really.’
‘It is,’ said Kay. ‘Mind you, I can’t help feeling it’s just another way for religion to control women.’
Carys turned in her seat. ‘You’re not a religious person, are you?’
Kay shook her head. ‘No. My parents had me christened as a kid but neither of them was particularly religious. You?’
‘I don’t know. I was christened as well, but I’ve never really thought about it much until now. This business with Sophie and all these people using her to further their own agendas kind of makes me think I don’t want to be, though.’
They fell into silence as the gates to Crossways Hall appeared, and Kay slowed to make the turn into the gravel-covered driveway.
The family liaison officer’s car had been parked off to one side of the house and had been boxed in by three more vehicles – all were top of the range, and gleaming.
‘Visitors?’
‘Looks that way.’ Kay pulled the keys from the ignition. ‘Let’s find out, shall we?’
As they drew closer to the front door, it was opened and the woman Kay recalled as being the housekeeper peered out.
She put a finger to her lips, and then beckoned them over the threshold.
‘Good morning, Detectives.’
‘Good morning. We’d like to speak to Mr and Mrs Whittaker, please.’
The housekeeper arched an eyebrow. ‘Lady Griffith and Mr Whittaker are not available at the present time.’
‘Who do all the cars outside belong to?’
‘They currently have guests.’
‘Mrs – Jamieson, isn’t it?’
The housekeeper nodded.
‘I’m currently investigating the murder of Lady Griffith’s daughter. Perhaps that has slipped your memory.’
The woman took a step back. ‘Well—’
‘In the circumstances, I’d appreciate it if you would go and let them know that we’re here, and wish to talk to them.’
‘I-I can’t right now. You’ll have to wait.’ She gestured to a thinly-padded two-seater chair beside the front door.
‘Why?’
The woman wrung her hands. ‘You must wait. Until they’ve finished their prayers.’
‘Prayers?’
‘The church group is here. To lend spiritual support at this difficult time.’
Kay glared at her.
‘Please, have a seat. They won’t be long.’
Kay took one look at the seat the housekeeper indicated and shook her head. ‘We’ll stand, thanks. Actually, while we’re waiting, I’d like to ask you a few questions.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes.’ Kay lowered her voice. ‘You must overhear a lot of the conversations that take place around here.’
‘Well, I—’
‘So, what did you think of Sophie’s relationship with Josh Hamilton?’
Jamieson’s shoulders slumped. ‘It’s so sad. They were perfect for each other. He was such a gentleman to everyone. A pleasure to have here as a guest.’
‘Oh? Did you spend much time with him?’
‘Of course. I’m responsible for the running of this house, and one day he’d be my employer. He showed a keen interest in the history of the place.’ She beamed. ‘Like his father – very interested in Lady Griffith’s family.’
‘Did he and Sophie ever argue?’
The housekeeper pulled her cardigan around her chest and folded her arms. ‘Not that I ever recall, no. Like I said, he was a gentleman.’
‘What about Peter Evans?’
‘A good for nothing,’ said Jamieson. ‘Mr Whittaker had to have strong words with him the last time he showed up here. I’m not surprised he murdered our beautiful girl. I always said there was something not quite right about him.’
A bell sounded, and Jamieson’s head cocked to one side. ‘I must go. That’s Lady Griffith signalling her guests will require tea shortly. Wait here.’
The housekeeper disappeared through another doorway leading out of the hallway, and Carys began to pace the floor, her chin tilted upwards as she gazed at the various paintings on the walls.
A large grandfather clock kept a steady beat from its position next to the wall at the bottom of the stairs, and Kay scowled at it. She could never bear the sound of a ticking clock – to her, it was as annoying as a dripping tap.
She fought down her frustration at having to wait.
Sophie’s parents were grieving, after all, and she knew that with Larch watching her every move, she’d have to tread carefully.
Carys moved closer. ‘How much do you think these paintings are worth?’
Kay turned and stepped back, craning her neck to take in the thick oils that coated each canvas, the colours mottled over the years.
She wrinkled her nose. ‘Some of them are mouldy, look.’ She jutted her chin towards the lower corner of one of the frames. ‘If these are family members, I guess it’d depend on who painted them. I can’t imagine you’d get much for them otherwise.’
She shivered and pulled her jacket closer around her middle, crossing her arms. ‘This place is freezing. Can you imagine what it’d be like in winter?’
‘I’d take my tiny two-bedroom place any time over this,’ agreed Carys.
They both turned at the sound of the door behind them opening, and a small group of people emerged, talking in low voices.
Matthew Whittaker followed an elderly man into the hallway, and patted his arm. ‘It was good of you to come, Richard. And thanks for joining in our prayers. It was appreciated.’
‘Least I could do.’
Kay swore under her breath, tugged Carys by the sleeve and pulled her towards the foot of the staircase out of the way as
two older women bustled past, heading towards the kitchen.
‘That’s the Right Honourable Richard Fremchurch,’ she hissed.
‘DCI Larch’s friend?’
Kay nodded and pursed her lips.
‘Awkward.’
Kay said nothing, but had to agree with the young detective constable.
The conversation she’d planned to have with Matthew and Diane was going to be difficult enough, without having to worry about Larch’s threats to keep the investigation low-key and maintain the family’s privacy.
‘Excuse me?’
Kay jumped at the voice behind her, and spun round to see Mrs Jamieson beckoning to her.
‘Lady Griffith is in the sunroom, off the terrace, if you’d like to speak in private with her?’
Kay managed a small smile, thankful for the woman’s resourcefulness. In her haste to keep the police away from the guests, the housekeeper had also saved Kay from having to come face to face with the politician.
‘Thanks. We’ll need Mr Whittaker as well.’
‘I’ll ask him to join you as soon as possible.’
Kay thanked her, and then led Carys along the hallway. They emerged into the living area that had been littered with shocked guests only three nights ago. Now, the room seemed abandoned, as if it didn’t get much use between functions.
‘You can almost feel the dust waiting to pounce,’ whispered Carys.
Kay bit down on her bottom lip and glared at her.
She was right, though – now that she was seeing the place for the first time without party guests or crime scene investigators poring all over it, the house seemed neglected as if it was slowly retreating in on itself.
‘Grace said you wanted to talk to Diane and me?’
She turned at the sound of Matthew’s voice behind her, and was relieved to see he’d left his guests elsewhere.
‘Good morning, Mr Whittaker. Yes, we would. We were told your wife was waiting for us in the sunroom.’
‘Through here.’
Kay stepped to one side to let him pass, then followed him through double oak doors and into a glass-panelled room that had been added on to one side of the house several years ago. Despite the bright sunlight outside however, the angle of the extension on the building left it in shade, and Kay noticed that spotlights had been set into the ceiling at some point over the years.
‘Late twentieth century addition.’
Kay tore her eyes away from the patches of damp and peeling paint in the far corners of the room and made her way over to where Diane sat in a wicker armchair, a tray containing two china cups and a teapot in front of her on a small matching table.
Matthew hovered near one of the windows that overlooked a walled garden, and folded his arms across his chest.
‘What did you want to talk to us about?’
Kay gestured to the seat next to Diane’s. ‘Perhaps you’d like to sit?’
‘I’ll stand,’ he said and glared at her. ‘What’s taking so long with this investigation? Surely the mongrel should have been in front of a magistrate by now?’
Fine, thought Kay.
‘Peter Evans attempted suicide last night while in police custody.’
Diane gasped and rocked back in her chair.
Matthew’s eyes narrowed. ‘Attempted?’
‘He’s currently recuperating in hospital, having undergone emergency surgery overnight.’
‘More’s the pity he survived.’
‘Mr Whittaker—’
‘Well, that’s it, isn’t it? Obviously, the guilt got to him and he couldn’t live with himself.’
‘How well did you know Peter?’
‘We didn’t. He turned up here a few times, like I’ve already told you. I had a word, told him to stay away, and we haven’t seen him since.’
‘Did Sophie ever stay away from home overnight?’
Matthew’s brow creased, and he glanced across to where Diane sat, her face white.
‘Sometimes,’ he said, ‘but she always told us where she was going, and we know her friends’ parents, so it was never a problem.’
Kay checked her notes. ‘She was studying part-time, wasn’t she?’
Diane withdrew a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, then nodded. ‘Art school. Four days a week.’
‘No school for one day a week?’
‘No, that’s right. It’s to give the students a chance to build up their portfolios. Sophie would often paint in here, or take a sketchbook into town and find somewhere to sit and draw.’
‘What on earth has this all got to do with Peter Evans?’ demanded Matthew.
Kay took a deep breath. ‘We’re trying to build up a picture of Sophie’s life these past few weeks. Peter Evans attempted suicide after discovering Sophie was pregnant when she was killed.’
‘Oh, my Lord,’ whimpered Diane.
Matthew staggered, and reached out for the back of the chair, his knuckles white. ‘Where the hell did he get that idea from?’
‘We received the information yesterday. At which point, Peter Evans was re-interviewed and asked if he had slept with Sophie.’
Diane emitted a wail, and Matthew rushed to her side, crouching next to her and taking her hands in his.
He turned and glared at Kay.
‘Peter Evans confirmed that he had slept with Sophie recently,’ she said softly. ‘It seems the method of contraception they used didn’t work. The post mortem results are still awaited, at which point we’ll be seeking a paternity test as well.’
‘I’m going to be sick.’
Diane launched herself from the chair and rushed from the room.
Matthew straightened, his face distraught.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Whittaker. We had to let you know. You had no idea?’
‘No.’ He ran a hand over his face, and then pointed towards the door. ‘I’d like you to leave now.’
Twenty-One
A hush descended on the incident room the next morning as Kay let the door close behind her, as if she’d interrupted a private conversation.
She checked her watch, but the morning debrief was still twenty minutes away.
She ran her eyes over her colleagues as she passed them, but none would look up and meet her gaze.
Instead, they seemed intent on staring at their computer screens, or taking phone calls. A couple of the administrative staff appeared from the corner where the photocopier was, chatting happily until one of them saw Kay, and lowered her voice before nudging her colleague. Blushing, they scurried back to their desks and sat down, studiously ignoring her.
Before she could sit at her desk, Sharp peered out of his office and beckoned to her.
‘Got a minute?’
Perplexed, she dumped her bag on the desk and followed him.
He shut the door behind her and gestured to the chairs opposite his desk.
‘Have a seat,’ he said and pulled the blinds down.
‘I’d prefer to stand, thanks. What’s going on?’
He moved past her, then perched on the corner of the desk and folded his arms across his chest.
Kay raised an eyebrow. Sharp had never seemed the nervous sort to her, especially with his military background, but right now he looked like he’d prefer to be anywhere other than talking to her.
Afghanistan, perhaps.
‘Guv?’
‘There’s – ah – there’s a rumour circulating that your health might not have been all that good these past few months, Kay.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘In what way?’
He dropped his gaze and ran a hand over his hair. ‘Is it true you’ve had a miscarriage?’
The air left her lungs so fast, Kay staggered and reached out for the back of one of the chairs to steady herself.
Her vision blurred, the corners of her eyes darkening before filling with pinpricks of light, and her stomach heaved.
‘Who—’
‘I don’t know how the rumour started. No-one seems to kn
ow who heard it first, but you know what it’s like – one moment it was business as usual out there, and the next everyone’s talking about it.’
‘Everyone?’
He rose from the desk and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry. Sit down.’
‘I don’t want—’
‘Sit.’
He pushed her gently into one of the seats and then lowered himself into the other and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.
‘I’m guessing from your reaction that it’s true?’
She nodded, unable to speak, her thoughts tumbling over as she tried not to panic.
‘Should you be here?’
‘What?’
‘Should you be at work? You know, if you’re—’
‘It happened ten months ago, guv.’
He straightened, confusion spreading across his features. ‘But that’s when—’
‘Larch threw the Professional Standards investigation at me. Yeah, I know. The doctors think the stress of that caused my miscarriage.’
He ran a hand over his mouth, hurt in his eyes. ‘You should’ve told me, Kay.’
She snorted. ‘Why? You had enough to deal with, trying not to believe one of your officers was corrupt.’
‘That’s not fair, Kay. I stood by you. The least you could do is trust me.’
She blinked, and rose from her seat, trying to ignore the stinging sensation at the corners of her eyes.
Beyond the closed confines of the office, the incident room remained silent as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting.
‘It was none of your business,’ she said, her back to him. ‘I was already suspended from duty. Nobody had to find out.’
‘Still, Kay. How long have I known you? And Adam? Have you told anyone at all?’
She shook her head. ‘Adam’s parents live in Canada, and I’m not close to my family. We decided it was better to keep it to ourselves.’
Except, she thought, there was only one other person who knew, who had found out by accident, and had been sworn to secrecy.
Someone who she thought she could trust.
‘I’m sorry it got out like this,’ said Sharp. ‘You know how I feel about office gossip.’
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