‘Did you resent her a bit?’ queried Maguire quietly.
‘Oh no. Never. She was my best friend, and she always helped me with my studies.’ There was a long silence then she said slowly. ‘I relied on her, and I don’t know how I’m going to manage now.’ There was another long silence. Maguire waited. Then she said, ‘How does one manage in life when someone you’ve always relied on isn’t there anymore?’
Maguire felt a sudden pang of sympathy. That was how he’d felt when Rosemary had died. He looked at Ruth sitting before him, her head hung down, her hands twisted into a tight knot in her lap. ‘You will find a way,’ he said, ‘we all do.’ He turned to Amelia Villiers. ‘What about Simon? Apparently he had a disagreement with Jemima the night of the launch. Was there any reason you know of why they should have had a quarrel that particular night; the night of the Perfume launch?’
Mrs Villiers didn’t hesitate. ‘Not that I know of,’ she said firmly. ‘Sometimes they disagreed of course, but you could never really say it was a quarrel. Simon thought she was wasting herself changing over to an arts degree. He thought she should have stuck with science, and joined him in his newly formed chemical company when she’d got her degree. He has big plans for that. But Fergus put his oar in and persuaded her to change. Fergus has, or did have, a Svengali effect on Jemima and I know that worried Simon. But they didn’t have a quarrel that night, I’m sure of it. I’d have known about it if they had.’
‘But they did quarrel,’ interrupted Ruth. ‘And I know what it was about, too. It was about money. Jem wanted Simon to bail her out until the end of term. She wanted money to fund Fergus’s latest venture. He was planning to hire the Theatre Royal in Winchester to put on his latest play, The Sex Life of St Swithun.’
Maguire stifled a snort of derision, and Amelia interrupted. ‘St Swithun didn’t have a sex life. He was a saint!’
Ruth ignored her and continued. ‘Simon said he didn’t have any spare cash for such rubbish, and told her to ask father for it, but Jem flew off the handle and said she couldn’t possibly ask him for money’
‘Why do you think she couldn’t ask him?’ asked Maguire.
Ruth shook her head, and Amelia Villiers glowered at Maguire and said, ‘I do not think it is appropriate to discuss our family finances with you. They have nothing to do with the murder of my niece.’
‘Maybe not,’ said Maguire, making a mental note that maybe it did.
He looked down at his recorder, and made a show of switching it off. Although not obviously studying either Ruth or Amelia he surreptitiously watched their expressions. It was a technique he’d developed over many years of interviewing people. Ruth’s face was worried, on the verge of tears. Maguire wished he could get her on her own. Amelia’s expression was one of steely determination. Maybe there was some problem with the family finances that the children knew nothing about. And where on earth had Harold Villiers disappeared to?
The long silence was broken by Janet entering with a tray of tea things. She put it down on a side table with a clatter. Maguire had the feeling that she was not entirely happy, a feeling confirmed by the tone of her voice when she asked, ‘Do you want me to pour Mrs Villiers?
‘No, no, I’ll do it.’ Maguire thought his hostess looked glad of the interruption as she jumped up and moved across to the table to pour the tea. ‘That will be all, Janet,’ she added.
Maguire waited until Janet left the room, then retrieved the list of names that Lizzie had given him. ‘This is the list of casual workers employed with you that evening,’ he said, passing the list across to Ruth. ‘Are any of them known to you?’
She looked at it carefully. ‘I know all these,’ she said, pointing to a group of names. ‘They’re local, but the others are from London and I don’t know those.’
‘Do you think any of the local people might be the murderer?’
‘Oh,’ she gasped. ‘No, no I have no idea. And I’m not pointing the finger of suspicion at anyone. It wouldn’t be fair.’
‘Very true,’ said Maguire. ‘But murder isn’t fair either.’
Mrs Villiers brought over a cup of tea and handed it to Adam. ‘Have you any idea of why Jemima was murdered?’ she asked. ‘There must be a reason.’
He shook his head. ‘When we have the motive, we shall be closer to finding the murderer,’ he said.
‘Is it possible that there may not be a motive,’ said Ruth. ‘That perhaps it was just a random attack, and she was unlucky. In the wrong place at the wrong time. You read things like that in the newspapers.’
‘Is that what you think?’ asked Maguire.
Ruth hesitated, and after reaching over and taking a cup of tea for herself, said tremulously, ‘yes, I suppose I do. Jem was young and very, very pretty. She liked attention. Maybe some man fancied her, and she said no, so he murdered her.’
‘Did she have problems with men forcing their attentions on her?’
‘How do I know?’ Her voice trembled, and draining her cup of tea, she reached across and put it back down on the table with a rattle. She shook her head, shaking her long hair out of her eyes. ‘We didn’t talk about things like that. I’ve got a steady boyfriend, Tom, and we’re a bit dull. Jem went to lots of parties and always had different boyfriends. Fergus was her latest.’
‘Yes, and we all thought he was after her money,’ said Mrs Villiers, ‘but as I said before she didn’t have any and she wasn’t going to inherit much. But it’s true the young men were always chasing Jemima, so it could easily have been one of them. She attracted them, bees to a honey-pot! Whereas Tom is Ruth’s first real boyfriend.’ She smiled at Ruth.
Maguire noticed that Ruth didn’t smile back. ‘You make me sound dull,’ she told her mother.
‘Nothing wrong with being dull,’ said Maguire. ‘I’m like that myself.
Ruth rewarded him with a wobbly smile.
He slipped the recorder into his pocket, along with the list of names. ‘Thank you,’ he said to both of them and then turned to Ruth. ‘There is one other thing. How many of your friends, yours Ruth, and Jemima’s, actually know the locality of the icehouse?’
Amelia Villiers jumped in quickly. ‘None of them,’ she said firmly. ‘I had it deleted from the plans of the garden as I didn’t want unwelcome curiosity from visitors prying around.’
‘Then it’s unlikely that a boyfriend, always supposing one did murder Jemima, would have hidden her body in the icehouse. Neither is it likely that she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, as you say Ruth, unless she was meeting someone at the icehouse.’
They both remained silent, and then Amelia Villiers said, ‘it is possible that some other people knew of the icehouse existence. Last year we had a group of history students from the university going through our old books and plans in the library. They were researching eighteenth century families of Hampshire and Wiltshire, and as we had restored the gardens to their former glory of course they looked at the original garden plans we used.’
‘I’ll make a note of that,’ said Maguire, ‘and follow it up with enquiries at the university. Thank you. By the way, the boyfriend you mentioned, Fergus, was he by any chance one of the students?
Mrs Villiers shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, but I suppose he may have been, as he is older than Jemima. He graduated about two years ago,’
‘He was in his final year when Jem was a fresher,’ said Ruth. ‘That’s how they met, although he wasn’t her boyfriend then. He only got interested when he found out she was a member of the Villiers family.’
‘Yes,’ Amelia Villiers nodded her head. ‘I remember now. He persuaded us to have his play in the rose gardens that summer. His little company, all students, gave three performances, and the weather was beautiful, which is more than can be said for the play, which was rather strange.’
‘Do you know where Fergus is living now?’
‘Yes. He’s got a bedsit near the Playhouse Theatre in Salisbury because that’s where he works. He’s the
stage manager there, although he’s away on tour with the Salisbury Players at the moment. I believe they’re doing a week in Nottingham and then going on to York. I know that because a friend’s daughter is one of the company.’
Maguire made a note. ‘We’ll check on him,’ he said. ‘My team is coming out to Salisbury to inspect the house where Jemima lodged; we can look at his rooms in Salisbury at the same time.’
‘I live in the house where Jem lived as well,’ said Ruth.
‘I know, so it will be very convenient,’ said Maguire. ‘It can all be done with one visit.’ He could see Ruth was looking apprehensive and tried to reassure her. ‘You must understand that we have to follow up every lead no matter how insubstantial it seems.’
‘I’m not a lead, am I? I didn’t think that you’d be questioning me, or looking at where I live. Why are you bothering to come out to Salisbury? You’ll upset my boyfriend Tom. Surely he doesn’t need to be involved in all this. Haven’t you got to look for a rapist or someone else known to the police? Some man from around here.’ She began to sound upset.
‘Never mind, dear,’ said her mother soothingly, reaching across to pat her hand. ‘The police are sure to track the murderer down soon; he can’t get away for long.’
‘You are both certain it was a man?’ queried Maguire.
‘Well, yes, yes…of course. It has to be a man. Women don’t rape women, do they?’ Amelia said. Ruth remained silent but looked as if she were about to burst into tears.
Maguire said nothing. Details of Jemima’s injuries had not yet been made public, but Phineas had been quite positive. Jemima’s injuries and subsequent death had not been sexually motivated. That had been his positive conclusion.
‘It has to be a man,’ Amelia said.
‘Maybe, but whoever it was, it was definitely someone who knew the whereabouts of the icehouse,’ said Maguire slowly, ‘and that’s not common knowledge.’ He watched their reactions carefully as he stood up. ‘Plus, it was someone who knew how to get to the icehouse by using the path through the woods.’
Mrs Villiers pounced on the information. ‘Why do you say that? Nobody has said anything about the path through the woods. It’s not used now; even the fingerpost pointing the way has gone. I’m not even sure myself now where it is. It’s years since I walked in that part of the estate.’
‘We share a gamekeeper with The Country House Hotel,’ said Ruth quickly. ‘He’s probably the only person who’d be able to find his way through the woods these days, because no one else ever goes there.’ She walked across to a writing bureau set against the wall, and opening the small central drawer withdrew a card, which she handed to Maguire. ‘That’s his name and address. Rex Blundell, he lives on the other side of Avinton towards Salisbury. He only works for us part-time now as we don’t have a pheasant shoot here anymore.’
‘Rex couldn’t possibly be the murderer. He’s such a nice man.’ Mrs Villiers now burst into noisy tears and Maguire stood up.
He’d never been good with women in tears, and it was more than he could take at the moment. ‘That will be all for now,’ he said. ‘Thank you for the tea. I’ll see myself out.’
As he turned, he put his hand on the shoe in his pocket. Jemima’s body had been carried through the woods to the icehouse, he was certain of that. Strange that neither woman admitted knowing the whereabouts of the path. They were lying, of course. The family had lived at Avon Hall for generations, the children would have played in the woods, ridden their bikes along the path, made dens in the trees, done all the things children do. Yes, they knew about that route, so why were they lying? Was it to protect a member of the family?
He left the house and started walking through the gardens towards the path, and back to his car. Pity all the SOCO team had gone, there was no one left now to cadge a lift from to get back to the main road, so shanks pony it was. That was what his father always used to say if they had to walk anywhere. He was halfway through the wood when his mobile rang.
It was Lizzie. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Tess is fine and is lying out on my terrace fast asleep in the evening sun. I’ve got a couple of T-bone steaks in the fridge and thought I might try out that kettle barbeque Louise gave me. Would you care to join me when you collect Tess? We could have steaks and salad, and I’ve got strawberries and ice-cream as well.’
‘Sounds great,’ said Adam. ‘I was just wondering what to get out from the deepfreeze to microwave. T-bone steak sounds much better.’
Lizzie laughed. ‘There is something you have to do though, and that is get some charcoal and lighter fuel on your way in. I don’t have either.’
*
Later in the evening, sitting beside the now dying embers of the barbeque, and the chimera, which Louise had also given her mother, Lizzie suddenly said, ‘there was an ulterior motive to my invitation.’
Adam didn’t answer straight away, but poured the rest of the beer from the bottle into his glass. Lizzie wouldn’t let him drink from the bottle; she always said he might catch Weil’s disease if he did that. Apparently from rat’s urine! Adam had never heard of it, but bowed to Lizzie’s superior knowledge, and dutifully drank from a glass when with her. Now, after watching the froth in the glass settle for a moment, he said wryly, ‘there usually is an ulterior motive where you are concerned,’ and smiled, taking the edge off his words.
‘It’s to do with the Villiers, and although it’s gossip, it is from a reliable source. At least, I think it’s reliable. And it’s stuff that maybe your team wouldn’t pass on to you.’
‘Why not?’ asked Adam.
‘Because they are men. If Millie Jones was around and on the case she might take notice, but she’s not. You’ve only got the boys.’
‘Men,’ corrected Adam, adding, ‘gossip away then.’
‘They seem like boys to me,’ said Lizzie, ‘sign of old age I suppose.’ Picking up the wine bottle, she poured herself the remains of the red wine. ‘Well, do you want to know?’
‘Of course,’ said Maguire. ‘I’ve just said so. But first tell me the source of your gossip.’
Steve Grayson’s wife, Ann,’ said Lizzie. ‘I had a cup of tea with her down on the quay at Stibbington this afternoon. She and her family have all lived in Stibbington and the surrounding villages for years, they know all the gossip. She went to primary school with Simon Villiers. Apparently, he has never fitted in, or got on with his father, who wanted him to be a huntin’ shootin’ fishin’ type and then go into the stock exchange in London. Simon, even as a small boy, was an academic, always inventing things, and interested in all things botanical and chemical. When he went to Oxford and took a degree in Natural Sciences that was the end as far Harold Villiers was concerned. Rumour has it that they hardly speak now.’
‘Hardly a motive for the murder of his cousin,’ remarked Adam. ‘I don’t really see what that has got to do with anything.’
‘I haven’t finished yet,’ said Lizzie sharply.
‘Then there is Harold’s brother, Alexander, and his wife Linda,’ she continued. ‘They were both killed in an accident when Jemima was twelve years old, ten years ago.’
‘I’ve heard of that. It was a tractor accident wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, but have you heard who was driving the tractor? It was Simon, who was twenty-one at the time, and it seems he was showing off to a bunch of Oxford friends down for the weekend. It was a small tractor and he was trying to do wheelies, so it’s said.’
‘A small tractor, but big enough to kill someone,’ said Maguire thoughtfully.
‘Certainly, when you hit a car coming the other way head on. Especially when it’s a sports car. According to Ann, Jemima never forgave Simon.’
‘How does Ann know all this?’ muttered Maguire irritably. ‘She’s a local, but not part of the Avon Hall set. I wouldn’t have thought she was privy to family gossip.’
‘I don’t know about that, I’m just repeating what Ann told me. But wait, there’s more. Rumour has it, that Je
mima is not the daughter of Alexander and Linda, but is the love child of Harold and Linda. However, Harold has never acknowledged her, because if he did, according to the fine print in his own inheritance, he’d have to split the estate three ways between Jemima, Simon and Ruth, because the will stipulates it should go to all Harold’s bloodline.’
‘Huh, I find that difficult to believe!’ was Maguire’s comment.
Lizzie raced on before he could say anything else. ‘Everyone in Stibbington thinks that Amelia Villiers knows about Jemima’s paternity, but has kept silent, because she wants the estate to go to her two children, Simon and Ruth.’
‘What a family,’ said Adam slowly. ‘Makes me almost glad I haven’t got one.’
‘But there you go,’ said Lizzie excitedly, ending on a note of triumph. ‘You have been looking for a motive, now I’ve given you several.’
‘But it’s only gossip,’ said Adam. ‘Nothing more. You are jumping to conclusions. I can’t go arresting people based on tittle-tattle. And, if all this is common knowledge, as you say, Jemima must have known about it as well. Besides, these days there is the DNA test. Surely the family would have had tests, then everyone would know for certain.’
‘Maybe she did. Maybe Jemima did. Maybe she started demanding her share.’
‘Maybe,’ said Maguire slowly.
‘Are you going to question them all again? Are you going to DNA test all of them?’
Adam smiled slowly. ‘You know sometimes, Lizzie, I think you should give up medicine and take up criminology.’
‘I would if I could,’ replied Lizzie. ‘It’s so challenging. But it’s too late. I’m stuck with medicine until the end of my days.’
‘Doesn’t that challenge you? All those people who come to you for help?’
Lizzie sighed. ‘Yes, that’s challenging all right. I give my patients the best advice I can, but I know nine out of ten of them are going to ignore me.’ Bending down she retrieved a log from the pile beside her chair and put it in the chimera. ‘There’s a bit of a chill wind blowing up,’ she said.
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