Murder in Bloom - Libby Sarjeant Murder Mystery Series

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Murder in Bloom - Libby Sarjeant Murder Mystery Series Page 4

by Lesley Cookman


  ‘Didn’t matter. I don’t drink.’ Lewis grinned at Libby’s surprise. ‘And anyway, I didn’t just stay for a drink.’ He looked down, then up under his eyebrows. ‘You shocked?’

  ‘Should I be?’

  ‘Ad says you’ve got best mates who got hitched.’

  ‘Civil partnership, yes. I was their best woman.’

  ‘So you’re not shocked.’ He nodded. ‘Good. Well, see, this bloke is married and no one knows he’s gay. Mind you, I bet there’s a bloody regiment out there who really do know. You can’t keep it that quiet. But on the surface, let’s say, the great British public don’t know. So it’s all very hush-hush. I only stayed when the wife wasn’t there.’ He took another mouthful of coffee.

  ‘Anyway, he reckons I’m a bit of a jack-the-lad, and he’s got contacts with this telly company, so he gets me this interview with ’em, and next thing you know, I’m on Housey Housey playing the cockney cheeky chappie with an ’ammer in me ’and.’

  He smiled ruefully and looked out of the window. ‘Shouldn’t mock. It’s got me all this, ain’t it?’

  ‘Has it?’ said Libby. He looked at her quickly.

  ‘Yeah, that’s the problem, see. Somewhere along the line, I realise that I’m being set up for this other show. It was all a bit too – too – what’s the word I want?’

  ‘Pat?’

  ‘Maybe. Anyway. It felt like someone had it all mapped out. But as if they didn’t want to, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘As if they were under pressure. As if someone was blackmailing them?’

  Lewis looked up in surprise. ‘That’s it exactly,’ he said. ‘As though someone wanted me doin’ this programme, and they was forcing someone to do it – make it work, like.’

  ‘Who? Do you know?’

  ‘I thought I did, but I don’t really. I reckon my Hampstead mate’s behind it all, but I don’t know who it was at the telly company he was leanin’ on. And what I don’t get is why? Why did he want me doin’ that show? He wasn’t that fond of me.’

  ‘So why did you want to talk to me?’ prompted Libby, after a pause.

  ‘After that body was found, I got this email.’ He pulled the laptop towards him and turned it to face Libby. ‘See?’

  ‘“Just remember who helped you buy that sodding awful house and remember where you came from.”’ Libby looked up. ‘Is it from your Hampstead friend?’

  ‘It don’t say. Don’t recognise the address, but I reckon so.’

  ‘And why is it worrying you?’

  ‘Because it sounds like a threat to me. A warning. So it looks like my Hampstead friend might have something to do with this ’ere skeleton.’

  Libby watched him. Lewis Osbourne-Walker was frightened.

  ‘So you’re being warned to say nothing about him? But what’s he got to do with this house?’

  ‘He put me on to it. All a bit – y’know – under the counter. Cos ’e knew the bloke what was ‘ere before. And ’e’s been gone years.’

  ‘Moved out?’

  Lewis shook his head.

  ‘Disappeared,’ he said.

  Chapter Five

  ‘WELL,’ SAID LIBBY AFTER a moment, ‘the police will probably know that by now. Know who the previous owner was and that he’s disappeared, I mean. I expect they’re trying to match these bones up to his DNA or something right now, so what’s the problem?’

  Lewis looked exasperated. ‘Because I told you, I got this place through – you know – and he doesn’t want the police to know he’s got anything to do with it.’

  ‘So he’s telling you – what, exactly?’ Libby looked again at the email. ‘Remember how you got this house – well, yes, but he’s not going to tell anyone how you got it, is he? And what else is he going to expose? That you’ve become a household name through his machinations?’

  ‘His what?’ Lewis stared.

  ‘That he got you the job by leaning on someone. He’d be exposed then, too.’

  ‘So what’s he mean, then?’ Lewis frowned.

  ‘I don’t know, but I honestly think you should tell the police.’ Libby leant forward. ‘Lewis, listen. I’m not a detective, but I have been involved in four different murder cases, and believe me, the police find out everything. People only make things worse for themselves if they try and hide stuff. And what’s the worst that can happen?’

  ‘I’d lose me job and this place.’ Lewis scowled at her.

  Libby shrugged. ‘You asked for my opinion. Keep quiet if you like, but that’ll look bad when the police find out, won’t it? And if, as you say, there was something odd about the way you bought this place, they’ll definitely find that out.’

  Lewis stood up and went to stand at the window. ‘I dunno.’

  ‘You do, really,’ said Libby. ‘You wouldn’t have asked me if you weren’t thinking about telling the police. You would have kept quiet about it all. And what you really think is that the skeleton is the missing owner and your Hampstead friend did away with him. Isn’t that right?’

  Lewis turned round. ‘Yeah. That obvious, is it?’

  ‘I’ve got sons,’ said Libby, with a grin.

  Lewis sighed and came back to his seat. ‘So what do I do then, Mum?’

  Libby laughed. ‘Tell the superintendent.’

  ‘The scary super? Blimey.’ Lewis shuddered theatrically.

  ‘Is she coming back to talk to you?’

  ‘I expect so. She said she’d need to see me again – or someone would, and there are still loads of ’em all over the wood. Fingertip search, they said.’

  ‘I thought they were digging?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, that too. Gawd, it’s like a bloody nightmare.’

  ‘It is a nightmare,’ said Libby, patting his arm. ‘But think how much better you’ll feel when you’ve told the police everything you know.’

  ‘But I don’t actually know anything, do I?’

  Libby looked thoughtful. ‘How did you buy this place? I mean, obviously not through an estate agent?’

  ‘My mate said he was sellin’ it on behalf of this other bloke.’

  ‘The one who’d disappeared?’

  ‘Yeah. I got the deeds and everything.’

  ‘Was it done through a solicitor?’

  Lewis looked surprised. ‘’Course.’

  ‘Then why did you say “under the counter”?’

  ‘Well, it was just, like, hand over the money and we’ll hand over the deeds. With a legal document to say it was mine. All very quiet.’

  ‘What about your solicitor?’

  ‘Ah.’ Lewis looked away, pink creeping into his cheeks.

  Libby sighed. ‘You didn’t have one.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then the first thing you do is to have a solicitor look at the deeds – see if the Land Registry has a record of the transaction.’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ said Lewis with a gloomy nod. ‘Might not be mine after all.’

  ‘If it isn’t, your mate – oh, for goodness’ sake, what’s his bloody name? Can’t keep saying your mate.’

  ‘Tony,’ said Lewis.

  ‘Tony what?’

  ‘Just Tony.’

  ‘Oh, all right,’ sighed Libby, ‘but Tony will have to cough up that money you gave him. How, by the way? Wasn’t a cheque, was it?’

  ‘Banker’s draft.’

  ‘There you are. The bank will have a record, so he’ll have to pay it back.’ Libby frowned. ‘I must say, it seems a bit careless of him, if he wanted to keep it quiet.’

  ‘It wasn’t made out to him,’ said Lewis.

  ‘Oh, Lewis!’ Libby shook her head. ‘Honestly! And you didn’t smell a rat at the time?’

  ‘S’pose so. I just wanted this place. My mum loves it.’

  ‘Your mum? Is she here?’

  ‘No, but she comes down for weekends. She can’t believe it.’

  ‘I bet,’ said Libby. ‘Well, I think you’ve just got to come clean about everything to the police. I don�
��t think you’ve done anything illegal, and then it will be up to them to trace this Tony and your money.’

  ‘You reckon they’ll go after my money?’

  ‘Well, it would probably be all part of the investigation, wouldn’t it?’ said Libby.

  Lewis sighed. ‘Yeah, all right. I’ll ring the scary super this afternoon.’

  ‘Ad calls her Big Bertha,’ said Libby. ‘Big Bertha the Scary Super. What’s her real name?’

  ‘Can’t remember.’ He looked at her with pleading blue eyes. ‘Are you goin’ to be here?’

  ‘Even if I was, she wouldn’t let me be there when she talked to you,’ said Libby. ‘What about your mum? Couldn’t she come down?’

  ‘I don’t want her mixed up in this.’

  ‘Gee, thanks,’ said Libby.

  Lewis went pink again. ‘You know what I mean,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t you hang around until after I’ve spoken to her?’

  ‘It depends when you get to speak to her. She might not be available. Will you speak to anyone else?’

  ‘I dunno.’ Lewis shook himself like a wet dog. ‘This is bloody awful.’ He stood up. ‘Where’s Katie with that lunch?’

  He strode to the door just as a shout floated up.

  ‘That’s Adam,’ said Libby.

  ‘Saying lunch is ready, yeah,’ said Lewis. ‘Coming?’

  Downstairs Katie had provided soup, bread, cheese and ham on the kitchen table. Libby looked round admiringly. The kitchen had been part renovated, but there was still a wonderful old kitchen range in a deep fireplace, a wooden airer strung with bunches of herbs and what looked like original Edwardian cupboards along one wall. The table was old, scrubbed and refectory-sized, complemented by a variety of chairs that looked as though they might have come from churches and schools.

  ‘Hello, Ma.’ Adam gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Remember Mog?’

  Mog, tall and skinny with rather limp brown hair, shook hands shyly, and sat down at the table. Katie urged them all to follow suit, and soon Lewis, Mog and Adam were deep in discussions about the garden. All worries about the house and the discovery of the skeleton had dropped from Lewis like a cloak, and Libby envied him this ability, whether it was real or assumed.

  Katie helped her to soup and told her how she’d come to be working for Lewis.

  ‘We did the catering for that Housey Housey,’ she said. ‘Like outside stuff, when we was at all those different homes.’

  ‘Who’s we?’ asked Libby.

  ‘Company I worked for. We had one of them vans, and sometimes a double-decker bus. It was all OBs.’

  ‘OBs? Oh, outside broadcasts.’

  ‘That’s right. Well, I got to know young Lewis, and his mum come along a couple of times to watch, so I got to know her, too. And then, o’ course, he finds out I used to be a seccertary, and he asks if I could help him sort his life out, sort o’ thing. So I did.’

  ‘So have you moved down here, too?’ asked Libby, between mouthfuls of soup.

  ‘Oh, yes. I don’t mind. I’ve still got me little flat in Leytonstone, and no kids, so I’m fancy free, like.’ Katie smiled comfortably. ‘I been very lucky. Two good careers, I’ve had, one working in the bank, and one in catering, and now I can put the whole lot together.’ She gazed fondly at Lewis, deep in conversation with Mog and Adam. ‘And look after him, the silly bugger.’

  ‘He needs it, doesn’t he?’ said Libby. ‘You know how he bought this house?’

  Katie sighed. ‘Yeah. I said he was a silly bugger, didn’t I? I tried to talk him out of it at the time, but he weren’t having any. Didn’t even get a survey done.’

  ‘Blimey.’ Libby was in awe.

  ‘Oh, yeah. He’s made a mint since that Housey Housey. Mind you, he didn’t tell me how much he paid, but I reckon it must have been less than market value. Stands to reason, havey-cavey business like that.’

  ‘I’ve tried to persuade him to tell the police about the whole thing,’ said Libby, pushing her empty soup bowl away.

  Katie shook her head. ‘He won’t like that. He’ll think he’s going to lose the house.’

  ‘Exactly. But don’t you see, someone, whether it’s this Tony he bought it from or someone else, has tried to offload it for some reason. And now the skeleton’s been found, that looks suspiciously like the reason, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Mmm.’ Katie stared at her. ‘’Course. Makes sense.’ She stood up and fetched a cafetière. ‘I’ll add my two-pennorth and all this afternoon.’

  ‘He must phone the police,’ said Libby. ‘He can’t wait until they contact him.’

  At that moment, the phone rang.

  Conversation round the table froze as Katie lumbered out into the hall. She came back holding the phone out to Lewis, mouthing ‘Police’. He took the phone, glancing at Libby before standing up and moving away from the table. Adam looked at his mother.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he asked in a low voice.

  ‘I’ve persuaded him to tell the police whatever he knows,’ said Libby. ‘That’s what he wanted to talk to me about.’

  ‘So what does he know?’

  ‘Oh – who sold him the house. That’s all, really.’

  ‘The police will know that already, surely?’

  ‘I would have thought so,’ said Libby. How would the police not know who owned the house? How it had been sold? They knew Lewis had only recently moved in.

  Lewis returned to the table and sat down.

  ‘That super’s coming back this afternoon,’ he said. ‘Wants to talk to me.’ He shot another glance at Libby.

  ‘Well, that’s good,’ she said and stood up. ‘I must get back. Thanks for the lunch, Katie. See you on Sunday, Ad?’

  Adam nodded, looking at Lewis.

  Katie stood up. ‘I’ll see you out,’ she said.

  At the front door, she led Libby outside and lowered her voice. ‘I’ll make sure he tells her everything,’ she said. ‘Can you come back if he wants to talk to you again?’

  ‘I’ll talk to him if he wants to phone me, but I honestly don’t see what I can do,’ said Libby. ‘I’m no private investigator. I’m just Adam’s mum.’

  Katie’s mouth drew down disapprovingly. ‘Hmm,’ she said. ‘Well, I’m going back to London this weekend, so I can’t keep an eye on him.’

  ‘Oh, Katie, what do you expect me to do? I don’t even know him.’

  ‘He wanted to talk to you.’ Katie’s mouth was now set in a stubborn line.

  ‘I know, but what Lewis wants he doesn’t always have to get,’ said Libby. ‘He’s an ordinary mortal, you know, just like my Adam.’

  Katie sighed. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell him he can phone you.’

  And I bet he will, thought Libby, as she drove back towards Nethergate. All the bloody time.

  Chapter Six

  BY THE TIME LIBBY met Ben at seven o’clock, Lewis had called at least five times. After the first two calls, Libby had let the answerphone take the messages and wished she’d signed up for caller identification when she missed a call from Ben.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ she said now, sitting down opposite him at a table by the empty fireplace. ‘What was it you wanted?’

  ‘To see if you wanted to go somewhere else,’ he said. ‘You could have called me back.’

  ‘I did,’ said Libby with a sigh, ‘and got your voicemail.’

  ‘Oh.’ Ben frowned and pulled his mobile out of his pocket. ‘Bugger. So you did. I didn’t hear it. Must have been in the shower.’

  ‘So we’re even,’ said Libby, sipping her lager. ‘Ah, I needed that.’

  ‘Why were you call screening, then?’ asked Ben.

  Resignedly, Libby told him everything that had happened since the morning.

  ‘I have genuinely tried to put him off, Ben, you can ask Adam and this Katie North person. That’s why I was trying not to take his calls. He’d already called twice before I stopped answering.’

  ‘What did he say, then?’ Despite
himself, Ben was looking interested.

  ‘Oh, the superintendent hadn’t arrived then. He was just blathering about what he should tell her. But as I said, the police will already know who owned the house previously and they’ll probably know all about this seemingly dodgy house purchase, too, so all he’s got to do is tell them everything including who this Tony person is so he can’t be accused of impeding the investigation.’

  ‘It does sound a bit off, doesn’t it?’ mused Ben, twirling his glass absently. ‘Why on earth would Lewis buy a house like that? Why was he so scared of letting on? What did he think Tony was going to tell the tabloids?’

  ‘I think there must be more to it than he told me,’ said Libby. ‘After all, the general public know he’s gay.’

  ‘But they don’t know that’s why he got the Housey Housey gig, or his own show. It’s payola under another name, isn’t it?’

  ‘And this Tony didn’t want his name revealed. I wonder who he is?’

  ‘I’ve been racking my brain to think of a high-profile person with media connections in Hampstead,’ said Ben.

  ‘We don’t know he has media connections, do we?’

  ‘You said he got Lewis on to Housey Housey and then leant on someone to get him his own programme.’

  ‘Yes, but that sounds as though he has connections with the Mafia, not the media.’ Libby squinted at her glass. ‘And I still don’t know why he wanted Lewis to have his own show. It couldn’t have been for sexual favours, could it? He’d already had those.’

  Ben sighed. ‘I don’t know. And we didn’t come here to talk about it, either.’

  Libby looked up. ‘You wanted to know.’

  ‘I know, I know.’ He reached over and patted her hand. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit pushy, haven’t I?’

  ‘Not pushy, exactly.’ Libby looked down at his hand. ‘I don’t want to lose you, Ben.’

  He turned over her hand and gripped it. ‘I don’t want to lose you, either. I’m just not entirely happy with the status quo.’

  ‘Adam says that’s the woman’s argument.’

  ‘Discussing me with your son, eh?’ Ben dropped her hand and leant back.

  ‘Yes, because he guessed how you would feel. No – he actually knew how you’d feel. And he told me off.’

 

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