‘Well,’ said Tom, and then proceeded to tell the same story he’d already told Steve and Kevin, starting off with his history lecture, so he didn’t see what time Ruth left, neither did he see her return as he was asleep when she came back.
‘You must be a very heavy sleeper?’ observed Maguire.
‘I am,’ replied Tom. ‘Everyone complains about it.’
‘Mr Tom Maplin has finished making his statement,’ said Maguire to the recorder. ‘Now Ruth,’ he said.
Ruth started shivering. ‘I don’t think I can.’
‘Yes, you can,’ said Maguire firmly. ‘Just tell us what you did on that Thursday night.’
Tom put his arms around her and gave her a hug. ‘Go on,’ he said.
Ruth sat up straight, and leaned forward towards Maguire. ‘Well, I caught the mini bus which was arranged to take us from Salisbury railway station to The Country House Hotel. It was full of people I didn’t know.’
‘Did you speak to any of them?’ asked Maguire.
She shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘I didn’t know them.’
‘What about Jemima, did she catch the same mini bus?’
Ruth hesitated, and then shook her head again. ‘No I don’t think so. I don’t remember seeing her.’
‘But you’re not sure?’ asked Maguire.
‘I didn’t see her,’ repeated Ruth. ‘Of course she may have ridden her bicycle. She was always very keen on keeping fit.’
‘Don’t you think she would have got very hot and bothered riding her bike from Salisbury to Avinton, all dressed up in her waitressing clothes?’ asked Steve.
Ruth shrugged. ‘She could have taken a change of clothes. I don’t know what she did.’
‘And you caught the mini bus back to Salisbury railway station after the event?
Ruth nodded. ‘Ruth Villiers has indicated in the affirmative,’ said Maguire. He then asked, ‘Did you speak to anyone on the bus during the return journey?’
‘No,’ said Ruth firmly. ‘I was too tired. And anyway they weren’t my type of people.’ She paused and took a deep breath. ‘I left the bus at the train station and walked back to the house in Salisbury. I arrived sometime between midnight and one o’clock in the morning. Tom was asleep; he didn’t wake up when I got into bed. I couldn’t sleep properly, so I got up very early. Tom was still asleep while I had a shower. I dressed and had breakfast, and was ready to go to my first lecture, by the time Tom was awake.’
‘But you missed that first lecture,’ said Steve, consulting his notes. ‘I checked the registers.’
‘I had a headache,’ said Ruth quickly. ‘So I sat in the college gardens by the river.’
Maguire made a note, then asked, ‘didn’t you wonder where Jemima was in the morning?’
‘No. I’m not her keeper. And I didn’t know she had been murdered until much later on Friday.’ She leaned back in her seat and took a deep breath. ‘That’s it. I can’t tell you anymore.’
‘Thank you,’ said Maguire and switched off the recorder. He made a few notes and then looked at Fergus Garrick who was lounging back in his chair.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting, sir,’ said Maguire politely. ‘However, we can start now.’
‘I really don’t know why I have to give another statement,’ said Fergus.
‘How well would you say you know the Villiers family?’ asked Maguire.
‘Not that well.’
‘Not as well as he would have liked,’ interrupted Simon sarcastically.
‘Did you ever stay at Avon Hall?’
Simon leaned across the desk towards Maguire. ‘We couldn’t prize him from Jem’s side. He was always at the Hall. None of us liked him.’
‘True,’ said Ruth. ‘He was too interested in the family fortune. He even put forward ideas for making more money.’
‘Such as?’ queried Maguire.
‘Nothing came of my suggestions,’ said Fergus quickly. ‘Harold Villiers had no flare for optimising his assets.’
Simon sniffed. ‘Flare!’ he scoffed. ‘That ridiculous idea you had for turning the ice house into a history feature, with tours and lectures on ice houses throughout the stately homes of Britain. With himself, of course, doing a star turn as the lecturer. Even Jem thought it was a silly idea.’
‘He even got Tom to open it up for him one day so that he could go down and inspect it,’ said Ruth. ‘I was furious. I had to rescue Tom that day; the steps are steep and slippery. And, to cap it all, he left it to me to fix the boards all back in place.’
‘So he did,’ said Simon. ‘I had forgotten that.’
‘They are making a big fuss about nothing,’ scoffed Fergus. He looked at Maguire. ‘The reason I didn’t mention it, is because I’d forgotten all about that episode. It was so unimportant. But it does show how vindictive the Villiers are, they are trying to point the finger of blame for Jem’s murder at me.’
‘It certainly does seem like that,’ agreed Maguire, and snapped his notebook shut. He stood, as Steve picked up the recorder. ‘You may all go now. But please stay either in Avon Hall or the house at Salisbury, and you Fergus may stay at your lodgings near the theatre.’
*
Down in Stibbington Infirmary Lizzie waited while Nellie Barnaby had a bath. Sister Welcome from Casualty had insisted that she leave her department clean, and had organized a “limbo” to keep her plastered leg dry. ‘I’m not discharging a dirty woman,’ she told Nellie very firmly. ‘I have my reputation to think of.’
‘So have I,’ retorted Nellie. ‘Besides, Roger won’t recognize me. You are being cruel and unkind to a poor old lady.’
‘Who is Roger?’ Sister asked Lizzie, ignoring the cruel and unkind assertion.
‘Her dog,’ replied Lizzie with a grin, ‘and he’s at the vets having a bath as well.’
Unlike Roger, after the initial objection, Nellie settled down and enjoyed her soaking in the warm scented water. Sister Welcome’s bark was much worse than her bite, for she produced a lavender scented bath lotion which Nellie frothed up into millions of bubbles. She was like a small child and emerged from the bathroom a different woman. Lizzie hardly recognized the wizened old lady, with fluffy white hair and pink cheeks.
‘You look lovely,’ she told her, and although her only reward was a grunt, she could see that Nellie enjoyed the compliment. Now comes the difficult part, Lizzie thought, and told her of the next move. ‘I’m afraid the hospital is rather short of beds, and as you won’t be able to move about much for a few weeks, you need to go somewhere else.’ She’d already agreed with Sister Welcome that they’d purposely be vague about Nellie’s mobility. ‘So I’ve made arrangements for you to move into Squirrel Lodge Nursing Home until you are completely recovered. And what is more, they have agreed that Roger can move in with you.’
‘What about his walks?’ demanded Nellie. ‘He needs his walks. It’s what keeps him fit.’
That was her only comment; and Lizzie was able to answer it truthfully, and with great relief. ‘Roger will be taken out by Nurse Alison. She loves dogs, and is quite happy to look after you and Roger.’
Nellie gave a little sigh, and slid down lower in the bed. ‘That’s all right then,’ she said, and closed her eyes.
‘Well, I would never have believed it would be so easy,’ said Sister Welcome as two paramedics arrived to transport Nellie to her new destination.
‘I must admit that I was prepared for a battle,’ Lizzie replied.
*
Lizzie decided to call into Stibbington Police Station on her way back to the health centre from the hospital. Adam needed to be informed of Nellie’s new address, and besides she was curious about the forensic reports on the car. Had the red car they’d found been the same one as she had seen Jemima climbing into that fateful night?
She arrived in Stibbington just as the Villiers’ family was descending the front steps of the building. Mrs Villiers was leading the way. Lizzie had h
eard from Dick Jamieson that Amelia Villiers was suffering some sort of shell shock, but as she watched her stalk down the steps in ridiculously high-heeled shoes, dressed as usual in a matching outfit, she found it difficult to believe. Today, of course, Amelia was in black; glamorous widows’ weeds, thought Lizzie, with a touch of envy, which must have cost a fortune.
Ruth, clinging on to her boyfriend’s arm looked tearful, and Tom was whispering to her. Simon appeared fairly normal, and was certainly not distraught with grief.
Lizzie stood back, and let the family pass her by, then ascended the steps herself and went through to Maguire’s office. She found Maguire seated at his desk, and Steve and Kevin perched on a couple of chairs either side of him. All three were looking at the screen of the computer and listening to a recorder at the same time. As she appeared in the doorway, Maguire waved her in.
‘I’ve come to tell you where Nellie Barnaby is now,’ she said. It was a feeble excuse for visiting the station, and Lizzie knew it.
Adam Maguire knew it too, and raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘You want to know what we’ve found out,’ he said.
‘And the answer to that is, that we’ve found a terrible muddle,’ muttered Steve. He pulled a spare chair up beside him for Lizzie.
‘What do you mean…?’ Lizzie began.
‘The forensic results scupper my theory about Harold Villiers,’ interrupted Maguire. ‘Jemima’s body was definitely carried in the car, but Harold Villiers never set foot in it. There’s no trace of him at all.’
‘Who then?’
‘Who do we think did it?’ Steve tipped his chair back, then caught Maguire’s disapproving eye and hastily tipped it back straight again. ‘Maybe Tom, maybe Ruth, maybe even Simon or Fergus, although there’s not a lot of evidence of them, or perhaps one of the other people whose DNA we have, but have no idea to whom it belongs.’
‘Is it possible that the person you’re looking for did a very good job of cleaning up their DNA?’ asked Lizzie. ‘After all, you got other people’s DNA from Jemima’s body, didn’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said Steve. ‘But it has all been explained away; she sat next to people on the bus, and Ruth even borrowed one of Jemima’s skirts for the evening. The DNA mix is like soup.’
‘But were they on the mini bus together? Ruth wasn’t certain about that, she couldn’t remember seeing Jemima,’ said Maguire.
‘Have you asked the other occupants of the mini bus who they saw?’
Maguire shook his head. ‘Only a couple of them and they weren’t very helpful, most of the rest of them are apparently students at UCL, so I think it’s time you two did a bit of detecting work up in London. Get all their names and student addresses from the firm that hired them, and interview every one of them.’
‘You mean a trip to London?’ Kevin looked excited.
Steve on the other hand looked rather glum. ‘I’d promised Ann I’d take her down to the Auction Rooms tomorrow. She’s got her eye on a bigger cot for George, and there’s one for sale down there.’
‘She can go and bid for it herself,’ said Maguire briskly. ‘She’s a capable young woman.’
‘Yes, but she may spend too much,’ muttered Steve.
There was no changing Maguire’s mind, so the two of them went off to collate the names and addresses of the students they were to interview, and order their train tickets to London for the following day.
Maguire turned to Lizzie. ‘I presume you’ve got the address of where Nellie Barnaby is now ensconced,’ he said. ‘Do you want to come along while I talk to her?’
‘You know you couldn’t keep me away,’ grinned Lizzie. ‘Although how much useful information you’ll get from her is another matter.’
‘We’ll go in my car,’ said Maguire, leading the way. ‘No point in taking two.’
*
Squirrel Lodge Nursing Home was a large Victorian house set in spacious gardens, in the small village of Barton. As nursing homes go, it was not large, and only housed twenty patients.
The Matron met them at the front door, and Lizzie, who’d met her before, introduced Adam Maguire. After shaking his hand, she indicated they should follow her, and briskly set off down the corridor towards the far side of the house.
‘Nellie has settled in very well,’ she said. ‘I think having her dog with her makes all the difference and I must say he seems to enjoy sleeping in a comfortable basket as opposed to a damp old pram. Alison, one of our nurses, has been designated to be Nellie and Roger’s special nurse. She will take the dog for walks as well.’
She led the way to a large room with French windows, which opened out on to a paved terrace. Nellie was dozing in a wickerwork armchair, surrounded by floral cushions, with her plastered leg raised on a footstall before her. Roger was asleep on the floor beside her, in a basket with matching floral cushions. It was the last word in luxury for both of them.
‘Hello again, Nellie,’ said Lizzie. ‘I’m sorry you have had to come here, but it won’t be for too long.’
‘Why not?’ said Nellie sharply. ‘I like it here. I’m not moving again.’
Lizzie ignored Nellie’s comment, and introduced Adam Maguire. ‘This is the policeman in charge of young Jemima’s murder,’ she said. ‘And he would like to talk to you.’
Nellie sat up in the chair and held out her hand in a regal manner, and Maguire stepped forward, bowed low and shook it. His elegant manner seemed to please her. ‘The reason I want to talk to you,’ he said, ‘is because you were wearing one of Jemima’s shoes when you were found after your accident.’
Nellie nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, and very comfortable it is. I didn’t know it belonged to Jemima of course; she won’t want it now and I want it back, and I’d like the other one too if you can find it.’
No sentiment there, thought Maguire. ‘We’ll see what we can do about the other one,’ he said. ‘But what I want to know is where did you find the one you were wearing?’
‘ I found it in Benny’s Copse.’
Lizzie and Maguire looked at each other, and Lizzie raised her eyebrows in puzzlement. ‘I’ve never heard of it,’ she said. ‘Where exactly is Benny’s Copse?’
‘Oh, it’s along Badgers Lane, that’s the road which runs around the edge of the Avon Hall estate. There’s a big pile of flints there.’ Nellie paused and leaned back in the chair with her eyes closed. ‘You know,’ she said slowly, ‘I can remember old Benny taking those flints from the field he ploughed opposite the estate when I was a young girl. That’s why it’s called Benny’s Copse. Every year he dug up more flints when he ploughed, until there was a big pile left at the side of the road. Sometimes people used to come and take some, break them up, and use them to repair the flint walls of their houses.’
‘Which field?’ Maguire was looking at a map on his phone. ‘I can’t see any field opposite the Avon Estate. It’s not here on the map.’
‘No, you won’t find it. Not now. It’s not a field anymore. When Benny died no one else could be bothered to plough it because of all those flints and it was left to lie fallow. Now, it’s overgrown with elder and hazel bushes. That’s why I like to make my den there, behind the flints. It’s very cosy, and Roger likes it.’
‘So,’ said Maguire slowly, ‘You were in your den and then you found the shoe there.’
‘No,’ said Nellie shaking her head. ‘I found the shoe after. In the morning.’
‘After what?’
Nellie frowned. ‘After they’d gone, of course. Roger was sleepy as well as me. We’d both had a big supper out the back of the den. Pete Beeson, the landlord of the Turf Cutters Arms is very generous sometimes. He gave Roger and me two meat pies. They were yesterday’s pies, but we didn’t mind, and he gave me a bottle of scrumpy as well.’
‘You say after they’d gone. Do you know who they were, and when they arrived?’ asked Maguire.
‘Course not. I was asleep.’ She closed her mouth firmly, and there was silence while Lizzie and Maguire looked at ea
ch other and waited. Then Nellie said, ‘it was the shouting that woke me up, that and Roger growling. I told him to be quiet and we both of us moved back further into the den, and I didn’t bother to listen.’ She closed her eyes.
‘Who was it who was shouting?’ asked Lizzie quietly, afraid that she’d nod off to sleep before they could obtain any more information. ‘Can you remember?’
‘Dunno. Women I think. But I’m not sure, ‘cause I told you, I wasn’t bothering to listen. I just wanted them to drive off and go away. They didn’t know I was there of course, and I didn’t tell them. I stayed where I was at the back of the den beneath the bush.’ She sighed and kept her eyes closed.
‘And then what happened?’ asked Maguire.
‘They left, of course.’
‘Did they walk away?
‘No, they drove away. I heard the old engine start. Huh,’ she snorted. ‘It rattled a lot; wouldn’t start at first, but then it did. That was after the fight.’
‘When was the fight?’ Maguire was scribbling furiously on his notepad, and Lizzie was glad Nellie had her eyes closed, thinking she might have objected to having her word’s taken down.
‘The fight was before they left, of course. That’s what Roger and I didn’t like. He doesn’t like loud voices, neither do I. That’s why I didn’t bother to listen.’
‘But you did hear something. What did they say? Did you hear any names?’ Maguire persisted.
Nellie shook her head slowly. ‘They were young voices. I can’t tell you more than that. They were young, but not voices that I recognized. I don’t know any young people these days.’ She paused and looked at Lizzie. ‘Only you,’ she said. Before either Maguire or Lizzie could comment, she continued. ‘First, there was a lot of shouting, then there was grunting, and groaning, and the sound of branches snapping. A thump. Someone must have fallen down. Then it was quiet, and someone started crying. I stayed where I was. I didn’t want to get involved. I think I must have dozed off a bit, because when I woke up someone was starting a car engine. Rattle, rattle, rattle it went, sounded like an old car; then it started properly and the car drove away.’
‘And the shoe?’ asked Maguire. ‘How did you find the shoe?’
The Dead Girl's Shoes Page 24
