Dan couldn’t make himself believe the man hadn’t been told the truth of the situation. He looked at Quillam. A puffed-up, narcissistic tyrant. Master of his own empire and from what Dan had heard, the empire existed only because of a brilliant eighteen-year-old pianist. He supposed others in the household could be nervous at the prospect of telling him the whole story about Laura.
There was no point in pursuing that line of thought, or not unless it came to have bearing on the case.
Dan made up his mind. ‘I regret to tell you that your daughter is dead, sir.’
Quillam stared at him, blinked and slid his gaze to Bill Lamb.
‘Would you like to have someone with you?’ The shock Dan looked at was real. ‘Your wife should be here.’
‘I don’t need anyone. Sonia isn’t Laura’s mother.’ He said it as if he wanted to make sure they understood that point.
Elyan Quillam came into Dan’s line of sight from an open door into a shaded corridor. Barefoot, in the blue jeans and navy sweatshirt Dan had seen when he sent him home earlier, the boy carried enough grief for an army. His shoulders hunched, arms crossed tightly, and his reddened eyes were on his father.
‘Why was she playing around in a church?’ Percy Quillam asked, standing up. ‘You knew, didn’t you? You encouraged her. None of you helped me make sure Laura didn’t do anything stupid. You only pretended to care about what she wanted. You never sought her out or tried to include her at home. Did you think it was funny to pretend to be on her side and encourage her to annoy me? What was it? A joke to make a fool of me behind my back? This will be all over the press – is that what you wanted, Elyan?’
Punching the man would feel so good. ‘Sit down, Elyan,’ Dan said. ‘We are very sorry for your loss, and under such terrible circumstances. Your father has only just found out about Laura’s death. He’s in shock.’
‘We’re all in shock,’ Elyan muttered. He sat down. ‘Why would you say we didn’t include her? We did. Annie and I love – loved her. She only wanted to sing, Dad. And she hated it here because she couldn’t do that easily like she could in Hampstead.’
‘What the hell do you mean, you ungrateful little arse? Everything you are comes from me. Without me, you’d be nothing. No one else would have seen your potential and made sure it was nurtured the way I have. You’ve had the best. You’ve got the best. But all you can do is bring trouble by encouraging a silly girl to have ambitions she shouldn’t have. Now, just when we’re getting ready for the biggest tour of your career to this point, you help stir up negative talk. Don’t you know how many people there are who would love to knock you down? How many people do you think are praying you fall so they can take your place?’
‘Laura’s dead,’ Elyan said, rubbing his eyes. ‘Don’t you get that? Laura died today. I don’t give a damn about anything else.’
Percy half-rose but sat down hard again. ‘What happened?’ Finally his voice had softened, broken. He looked at each of them and back at Elyan. ‘Did she have a heart attack? I tried to make sure she got the best care.’
‘She was so unhappy,’ Elyan said. ‘She felt it was the end of her world when she found out we were coming here. Laura was happy where she was, with the friends she’d made. She was comfortable there and everything was familiar. There were places she could go to be with other people who loved what she loved.’
‘What places? She didn’t go anywhere.’
‘That’s what you think.’ Elyan exhaled for a long time. His eyes had filled with more tears. ‘She had people who liked her a lot for who she was … herself. Not who she was related to. She’d been excited about something and she was going to tell me. When we came here she wouldn’t talk about it. She got very depressed.’
‘Are you trying to tell me she killed herself?’
‘No!’ Fists clenched, Elyan glowered at his father.
Percy didn’t seem to notice. ‘You tell me everything, boy. Now! Was some man in London sniffing around her, giving her ideas? I want to know who he is.’
Studying his hands in his lap, Elyan said nothing.
‘What does Sebastian know about this? And the others? You all knew, didn’t you? You all enjoyed thinking you were making a fool out of me. You should have known better. No one makes a fool of me. I get what I want – one way or the other.’
‘You’re very upset,’ Dan said.
‘Don’t slop over me,’ Percy said. ‘I’m stronger than that. I’m stronger than any of you. She wasn’t strong. She had some sort of turn, didn’t she? Look at me and say it, Elyan.’
‘I don’t know.’
The desperate misery in the boy’s face angered Dan. The father was victimizing the son.
‘She hit her head,’ Elyan said, barely above a whisper. ‘Hit it hard. She bled, Dad. She was dead when I got there. Oh, my god, Laura’s dead. I can’t stay here.’
‘Stay where you are, son,’ Dan told him. ‘We’re going to sort this out. You’re all trying to cope with something unspeakable. Give yourselves time.’
‘Your daughter is in the morgue in Gloucester, Mr Quillam,’ Bill said in the ironed flat voice Dan only heard when his sergeant was fighting to keep calm. ‘The police surgeon hopes to get to her post-mortem tomorrow.’
Quillam shook his head. ‘It had to be her heart. A heart attack made her fall and hit her head. It must have. We’ll have to deal with the things that have to be done.’
‘Dad.’ A rasping came with Elyan’s word. He swallowed. ‘The police are here because they think Laura may have been killed.’
SEVEN
The past two days, since she’d been with Dan and Bill in the snug, seemed to stretch back forever. She looked at the bar with genuine affection. Her anchor, that’s what the place was.
This was how she loved to see the Black Dog, the way it should look and feel every night. So why does everything, even the smiles and talk, the music, the warmth, feel wrong, askew? She had all the questions but none of the answers, Alex thought. Except for the sensation that it was wrong to be happy when Laura Quillam lay dead, and perhaps some very human guilt at being alive, that whatever circumstances were involved had chosen Laura instead of someone else – like Alex.
No word had come from the police since she last saw them. After the telephone call O’Reilly and Lamb had left and neither returned or made contact. Constable Bendix had arrived while the pub was closed and asked to see Alex. He’d told her the chief inspector wanted to remind her to expect questioning. Tony had got the same message, and the rest, she supposed. She decided Dan O’Reilly was subtly keeping them all on edge and off balance.
Coming through the archway from the restaurant, Tony caught her attention instantly. She smiled, partly at the sight of him and partly from relief that he was here. They hadn’t seen each other since the previous day.
She kept serving but edged in Tony’s direction when he leaned on the bar, his hands clasped loosely together. Too bad she couldn’t make her reactions to him match what she wanted to believe; casual comfort, that he wasn’t so important in her life.
Too bad she never saw him without liking the way his dark blue eyes settled on her, and his little smile wrinkled at the corners. He was a good-looking man with none of the arrogance so many good-looking men had.
‘Anything?’ he said. ‘Other than chit-chat?’
‘Nothing from the police, if that’s what you mean. I’d like to be glad but I know we’re only waiting for a shoe to drop. Someone died, that’s not going away. I think good old Dan O’Reilly and Bill Lamb are playing one of their favorite break-them-down numbers. Waiting to see if – and hoping – we’ll break for some reason and go running to them for answers.’
‘Are you okay?’ Tony asked, searching her face. ‘I wanted to come earlier but it’s been crazy. Look at me. How are you dealing with what happened?’
Yes, he really was wearing an old olive green sweater with holes where the neckband met the body. And a wrinkled, if clean, brown linen shirt u
nderneath. The collar of the shirt rolled up at the points. Things she liked about Tony Harrison, not that they made much sense, but his casual approach to life felt like something solid and uncompromising. Sometimes he seemed all man, even infuriatingly male, but then the quiet bits came through, the caring bits – and the very grounded, self-confident bits.
‘Alex, I asked you a question, love.’
She looked straight at him. The smile she gave felt phony as hell. ‘See? I’m holding up very well. Remember, I’m a pro in the FDBD.’
He raised one brow and said, ‘FDBD?’
‘Finding Dead Bodies Department.’
Far from laughing, she got one of Tony’s unmoved stares. He half turned away, one elbow on the bar. ‘Alex, you don’t have to impress me. This could get nasty. I’m not saying it won’t get sorted but it’s unfortunate you were the one to find the body. And that I was there by the time the police arrived. I doubt if we’re some of their favorite people and until they get a solid suspect, we’re likely to hear more from them than we want to.’
‘Scotch? Or are you in the mood for an Ambler.’
‘Ambler sounds good. Make it a pint.’ He smiled and it was the genuine variety. ‘Thanks to you, I’ve developed a taste for the stuff. You’ll stand on your own two feet no matter what I say. I know that. But I care about you – you know that. Would it be so terrible to lean on me now and again?’
‘I do,’ she told him. ‘But this is one of those times for both of us to lean a bit. You hold me up and I’ll hold you up. If it becomes necessary, which it may not. They haven’t clapped either of us in irons yet. Didn’t we say we were ready to turn into the local private eyes? Some time ago?’
She pulled his beer and slid the glass across the bar.
‘I think we did and I thought we were joking.’
‘We had to use our intuition and the solid facts we found out before. I say we do that again if necessary.’
Tony made a noncommittal sound. He took a swallow and nodded across the room. ‘Do you have a fire every night? Silly question, I know you do.’
‘I like it and so do the customers,’ she told him. ‘These stone walls are thick. They keep out more heat than you think. We don’t bank it at night, just start over when it begins to cool off outside in the afternoon. People expect it.’
He smiled. ‘I know I do.’
This was part of her home now. More her home than Lime Tree Lodge up in the Dimple, much as she was glad she’d bought the old house and put so much into it. But here the dark beams were laced with swags of hops in various stages of being dried out, depending on the season, and the Inglenook fireplace with wood stacked in on either side and it felt like safety against any storm. Anyway, Bogie and Katie expected to go there directly when they arrived, give long, satisfied sighs, and curl up on their respective woolen blankets – supplied by Lily.
Most of the time, Mary Burke brought the latest cat, Max, in a canvas shopping cart on wheels. ‘If we leave him at home, Oliver might make him miserable,’ was her excuse although the rangy tabby, Oliver, was too above the fray to bother with a one-eyed orange interloper resembling a beaten-up boxer – human variety, not dog.
‘Look,’ Tony said, unconsciously putting a hand over hers. ‘Isn’t that Elyan Quillam? Going to Harriet and Mary’s table? And he’s not alone. What the devil’s he doing here?’
‘I’ve never seen her before.’ The woman with Quillam was medium height with mid-blond, shiny hair pulled loosely back into a cascade of curls. From a distance Alex could only tell she was perhaps early thirties, stylishly dressed in a deep blue dress and very high heels, and had a good figure that leaned toward being voluptuous.
Young Quillam bent over the Burke sisters’ table, the one always kept free for them, and spoke earnestly into their upturned faces. The ladies looked equally serious and made motions for him and his companion to sit down.
‘Good grief, I didn’t notice him come in. Why would he be here tonight, of all nights? He may be eighteen and legal, but he should be at home with his family at a time like this. Do you know the woman with him?’
‘No. Too old to be his girlfriend.’
‘His mother?’ Tony suggested.
‘Possibly. A stunner. But she looks as if she wishes she were somewhere else.’
Elyan held a chair for his companion and slid into one himself, his back to Alex and Tony, and the three of them continued their conversation with heads close together. The woman sat back, not entering the exchange, and appearing self-conscious.
‘I could take my drink over and join them,’ Tony said. ‘In the interest of local hospitality. And intelligence gathering.’
Alex wiped away her smile with difficulty.
‘What?’ Tony said. She hadn’t covered that smile quickly enough.
‘You’re funny. Dr Reserved isn’t always shy, is he?’
He leaned close and for a moment she thought he would kiss her – which would be very unlike Tony in public. Instead, his gaze skewered her and he said, ‘If I need to forget about being reticent, I forget. When I can, I do what needs to be done. Can you think of a reason why Elyan and his friend would come in here to talk to Harriet and Mary?’
‘Nope.’ She shook her head and swiped at beer splatters with a counter beer cloth proudly stamped, Knights in the Bottom. A souvenir one of the regulars had brought back from a pub tour. ‘Can’t think of a single reason.’
‘Neither can I. But it could be important. So I’ll just meander over there.’
‘I’ll come with you.’ She caught Hugh Rhys’s attention. ‘You okay here on your own? Liz is in the back cutting sandwiches if you need her.’ Liz was part-time help who came in when needed.
Staring at Harriet and Mary’s table, squint lines at the corners of his eyes, Hugh polished a glass in slow motion. He hadn’t heard Alex’s question. His mouth pressed together in a tight line.
‘Hugh?’ She tried again. ‘Hold down the fort for a bit, please. Liz is in the back if you need her.’
All she got from him was a brief nod. Hugh’s stroppy mood wasn’t fading.
She caught up with Tony as he reached the Burkes, Elyan and his friend. ‘Hello,’ she said with a cheerful smile. ‘Can I get you two something to drink, Elyan?’
‘I’ll get something if we want it,’ he said. ‘We’re not staying long.’
Tony dragged a free chair to the table for Alex, and got one for himself. ‘How has it been since yesterday?’ he asked Elyan.
The young man took a deep breath. ‘How do you think it’s been?’
‘Rotten,’ Alex said, sitting down. ‘I can only imagine how rotten. I’m so sorry about your loss. What an awful shock. I can’t get over it.’
‘This is my mother,’ Elyan said. ‘Sonia Quillam. We both needed to get out into fresh air. Things are pretty tight at home.’
‘And very sad,’ Sonia Quillam said in a low but strong voice. Up close, she was beautiful. Golden eyes, smooth, light olive skin and regular features.
‘Of course they are,’ Alex said. ‘I should have brought a drink for myself and I insist you and Elyan have something.’ She turned to get Hugh’s attention.
Hugh didn’t appear to have moved. He continued to watch the group by the fire although he had given up working his way toward wearing a hole in a perfectly good glass with his cloth. Alex beckoned him with a big smile.
Elyan laced his fingers together on the table. She noticed they were long, but more muscular and blunt than the descriptions of pianists suggested. Or should that be, than she imagined a pianist’s fingers to be? Alex put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Is there anything you need, other than platitudes? I feel useless.’
‘So do I,’ he responded with no hesitation. ‘The world comes belting down around you and you’re supposed to feel, what? Anything? I want to cry about every five minutes but it won’t bring Laura back. She wasn’t supposed to die.’
‘No,’ Tony said.
She wasn’t supposed
to die? Alex met Tony’s eyes, unsure if he had heard the potential nuance. She couldn’t afford to push for Elyan’s meaning, not now.
‘Poor, poor little love,’ Sonia Quillam said. ‘A bright light, even if things sometimes got dark.’ She shifted and colored a little as if embarrassed.
Hugh came to stand beside Alex. ‘Get you something, Alex?’
He still sounded overly crisp. ‘Yes,’ she said, smiling up at him. ‘I’ll have a Courvoisier. How about you, Elyan? And Sonia.’
‘Nothing … well, a beer, then. Lager.’
‘Anything in particular?’ Hugh asked.
‘Whatever you suggest. I expect Mother will have a Prosecco. You like that sometimes, don’t you?’ he said, his eyes on her and filled with concern.
‘That would be nice.’ She kept her attention on the fire.
‘Could you do a half-n-half with Jenever?’ Elyan added. ‘Mother’s favorite plonk since she had a really good holiday in Amsterdam.’ Elyan laughed and the relaxing atmosphere was palpable.
His mother smiled. ‘Dutch courage, they call it.’ She turned her face up and looked hard at Hugh. ‘Don’t worry. I should have thought. You won’t have it.’
‘As a matter of fact, I do,’ Hugh said and left. Women in particular glanced at him as he passed on his way back to the bar.
Mary and Harriet each had a mostly full sherry glass. The ladies loved their sherry.
‘Harvey’s?’ Alex asked, smiling.
‘Only the best,’ Harriet said, but her mouth turned sharply down at the corners. ‘It’s our one weakness.’
‘And who do you have with you?’ Alex asked, indicating the enclosed shopping trolley Mary often brought with her, and knowing the answer.
‘Max,’ Mary said. ‘Can’t leave him there with Oliver. They don’t always get along.’
Alex almost laughed at the explanation about the resident cats at Leaves of Comfort. Bogie lay close to the shopping trolley, behaving as if he had no idea a cat was only the thickness of plastic-lined plaid away from him. He would do anything, put up with anything, to keep his place at the fireplace beside the sisters.
Melody of Murder Page 6
