Doomed to Die

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Doomed to Die Page 6

by Dorothy Simpson


  ‘Good.’ Harrow pulled a face. ‘I say “good” but I’m dreading it. She’s got enough on her plate to cope with as it is. Anyway, I guessed you’d come around this morning so I thought I’d wait to visit her in case you had any news. Have you?’

  ‘It’s too early yet, I’m afraid. We came to see you to fill in a little of the background.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘It’s important that we should understand what has been going on lately in your stepdaughter’s life.’

  ‘You’re not saying she was … that this has happened … that someone she knows was responsible for her death? I assumed it was some maniac who had broken in … One hears so much of that sort of thing these days.’

  ‘At this stage we simply don’t know. So if we could …’

  Harrow heaved himself up out of his armchair and began to walk about. ‘But that’s impossible! Ludicrous! Unless …’

  Abruptly, he stopped walking and turned to stare at Thanet.

  ‘Unless what?’

  Harrow shook his head. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Oh come, Mr Harrow. Obviously a thought struck you, just then.’

  But Harrow again shook his head, stubbornly. ‘It was nothing, really.’

  Thanet guessed that Harrow was thinking of Perdita’s husband, of the quarrel. He decided not to press the point at the moment. ‘Anyway, it’s essential that at this point we take as broad a view as possible, and gather some background information. So if you could answer a few questions …?’

  Harrow returned to his chair, sat down again. He lifted his sausage-like fingers in a gesture of surrender. ‘Of course. Anything to help.’

  Thanet was beginning to sweat. ‘I wonder if, before we begin, we could perhaps have the door open?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Lineham jumped up with alacrity, opened it as wide as it would go.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Harrow, ‘I always forget how hot people find it. I’ve got used to it by now, of course. It’s my wife. She can’t stand the cold, always has to have the place like a hothouse. Only yesterday, in the hospital, she was complaining about the temperature in there. All the other women were sitting up in frilly nighties and she was practically shivering. When I went back in the evening I had to take a woollen bedjacket in for her. Sorry, I’m rambling … I can’t seem to think straight this morning … What did you want to know?’

  As arranged, Lineham began the questioning and they soon learnt that Perdita’s father had died when she was ten and that her mother had remarried two years later. The young girl had been very fond of her father and despite every effort on Harrow’s part had found it difficult to adjust to having a stepfather.

  Harrow shook his head sorrowfully. ‘I’m afraid she never really forgave me for taking her father’s place. I’ve often thought it was just as well Stephanie didn’t come along until we’d given up hoping she might – that’s our other daughter. She’s thirteen now.’

  Perdita would have been in her twenties by then, Thanet worked out.

  ‘I think Perdita would have found it even more difficult, if she’d had to share her mother with a baby. As it was, by the time Steph arrived Perdita had been away to college and when she did come home to visit she was more like a mother than a sister to her.’

  ‘How is Stephanie taking the news of her death?’

  Harrow compressed his lips. ‘She doesn’t know yet. I haven’t been able to pluck up sufficient courage to tell her.’

  ‘What did you tell her last night, after my men had called? Or didn’t she wake up?’

  ‘She wasn’t here. She’s staying with a friend while her mother’s in hospital. You know what girls of that age are like. Any excuse to stay at one another’s houses …’

  Thanet grinned. ‘My daughter was just the same.’

  ‘It’s very convenient, really. My hours are rather irregular. I’m Deputy Head at St Michael’s Primary and I often have to get to school early, or leave late. Steph goes to Sturrenden High and it’s always Ros – my wife – who does the school run. So when Stephanie suggested staying with Diana …’

  Thanet nodded. Harrow didn’t exactly fit Thanet’s image of a deputy head, but then the man couldn’t be expected to be at his best this morning.

  ‘Steph was here over the weekend, of course. Actually, that was another reason why I was glad she suggested staying with Diana. If Giles – that’s my son-in-law, Perdita’s husband – was going to keep coming around here causing trouble … I didn’t like the idea that he might come when I was out and Steph was here alone. I’m not sure she’d have been able to cope … You did know that Perdita and her husband had separated?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Thanet. ‘And we knew Mr Master had come here once, on Saturday night, but you said, keep coming around and causing trouble … He came more than once, then?’

  ‘He came back on Sunday and then again on Monday.’

  Thanet glanced at Lineham. ‘Let’s take it in sequence, go back to Saturday night.’

  ‘What, exactly, did happen on Saturday night?’ said Lineham.

  Briefly, so briefly that Thanet wondered if he had imagined it, some memory or thought flickered in Harrow’s eyes, was quickly suppressed. Then he ran his hand over his head, gingerly patting the carefully layered strands. ‘Perdita arrived at about – let me see – ten o’clock or thereabouts. She didn’t say much, just that she and Giles had had a row and could she have a bed for the night? Naturally I said yes. She had just gone upstairs when Giles rang to see if she was here. Perdita refused to speak to him and asked me to tell him she didn’t want to see him. The next thing we knew he was banging at the door, demanding to be let in.’

  ‘And did you let him in?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ Harrow contrived to be both brusque and self-righteous. ‘If Perdita didn’t want to see him, that was that, as far as I was concerned. He kicked up a dreadful row, half the street was on the doorstep wondering what was happening … In the end I said if he didn’t leave I’d call the police. So he went away. But he was back by ten the next morning. Fortunately Perdita had already gone out, so he went off fairly quietly.’

  ‘Where had she gone?’

  Harrow shook his head. ‘No idea. I got up late and she had already left.’

  ‘Had she taken her stuff with her?’

  ‘No, not then. Not that she had much, just a small grip. She came back and collected that in the afternoon.’

  ‘Did she say where she’d been?’

  ‘To visit her mother in hospital, she said. I knew she was going, we’d arranged it the night before – that she’d go in the afternoon and I’d go in the evening.’

  ‘What about Stephanie?’

  ‘She was going on a school trip to London on Sunday afternoon, some exhibition at the Barbican … When her mother was unexpectedly called into hospital Steph said she wouldn’t go, but my wife insisted that nothing would be happening, medically speaking, on a Sunday and it was pointless Steph missing her trip for no good reason.’

  ‘Did Mrs Master tell you where she was going, when she collected her bag?’

  ‘Yes. She said she’d run into an old school friend of hers at the hospital, and she was going to stay with her for a few days. She gave me the address and telephone number, in case I needed to get in touch with her about her mother, and asked me not to tell Giles where she was.’

  ‘And did he come back?’

  ‘Yes. He was knocking on the door at eight o’clock next morning. He was furious that I wouldn’t tell him where she was.’

  ‘So Mrs Master left here on Sunday morning some time before ten o’clock and didn’t get back until …?’

  ‘About four.’

  ‘And apart from the time she spent visiting her mother, you’ve no idea where she was or who she went to see?’

  ‘No idea at all.’

  Lineham glanced at Thanet. Anything else?

  Once again Thanet produced the sketch.

  Harrow frowned at
it, holding it at arm’s length. ‘I’m pretty certain – yes, that’s Perdita and Giles’s neighbour. Swain, that’s his name. Howard, I think. Arty-crafty type. Knits.’

  Lineham’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Knits?’

  Harrow waved a hand. ‘Calls himself a knitwear designer. His wife’s something high-powered in TVS.’

  ‘Were he and Mrs Master anything more than friends?’ asked Thanet.

  Harrow looked taken aback. ‘Were they having an affair, you mean? I’ve no idea. It’s possible, I suppose. They both worked at home, so there was plenty of opportunity. But if so, it’s the first I’ve heard of it … Perhaps that’s what the row was about, on Saturday night.’

  ‘Did you know that Mrs Master was asking for a divorce?’

  Harrow’s plump lips pursed into a silent whistle. ‘No wonder Giles was in such a state! He’s always been somewhat, shall we say …’ He broke off, aware perhaps of the potential significance of what he was saying.

  ‘Possessive?’ said Thanet. ‘Jealous, even?’

  Harrow looked uncomfortable. ‘He’s always been very fond of Perdita … Look, Inspector, if there’s nothing else … I feel I really must get along to the hospital as soon as possible, in case my wife hears about it from someone else.’

  ‘Don’t worry. Your stepdaughter’s name is not being released until this afternoon.’

  Harrow looked relieved. ‘Oh good. But still …’

  Thanet hesitated. He very much wanted to go to the hospital himself, to find out how his mother-in-law was. He had intended to go later, after seeing Swain. But perhaps it would be useful to talk to Mrs Harrow, first, if she were well enough to be interviewed. Thanet’s guess was that if Perdita and Swain had been having an affair, it might well have been Swain she went to see on Sunday morning. If she had confided in her mother when she saw her on Sunday afternoon Mrs Harrow might be able to confirm this. He made up his mind, stood up. ‘We’ll come along to the hospital with you.’

  Harrow looked alarmed. ‘You’re not going to talk to my wife? She won’t be up to it. She was very fond of Perdita, this is really going to hit her hard.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Thanet. ‘If your wife doesn’t want to talk to us, she needn’t. It’ll be entirely up to her. I have to go to the hospital anyway, for another reason.’

  Harrow was still looking doubtful. ‘I wouldn’t want to put any pressure on her. She’s got enough on her plate at the moment, without this.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Thanet gently. ‘We’re not inhuman, Mr Harrow. We won’t do anything to distress your wife, I assure you.’

  Harrow stood up reluctantly. ‘I’ll get my coat.’

  SEVEN

  ‘How is she?’ said Thanet.

  He had gone straight to intensive care, leaving Lineham with Harrow. On the way to the hospital it had been agreed that Harrow should see his wife alone to break the news to her as best he could, and that they would then enlist medical opinion to try to assess whether or not she was up to talking to Thanet and Lineham.

  Joan’s smile of greeting faded as she shook her head. ‘Conscious. I’ve seen her … She’s holding her own at the moment but we won’t know for some time, apparently, whether she’s going to be all right. She could have another attack at any time, we just have to wait and see … The risk is greatest, apparently, in the first twenty-four hours.’

  Thanet comforted Joan as best he could. She and her mother – her father had died some time ago – had always been close and this was very hard for her, he knew. Then, after a brief glimpse of his mother-in-law alarmingly surrounded by wires and machines, he made his way through the labyrinthine corridors of the hospital to the women’s medical ward, where he found Lineham leafing through a tattered copy of Homes & Gardens in the waiting room.

  ‘He’s still with her,’ said Lineham, tossing the magazine on to a low table. ‘He said he’ll tell her we’d like a word with her and see how she reacts. The Sister is being very helpful, she understands the situation. She says there’s no reason why we shouldn’t talk to Mrs Harrow as long as she is willing.’

  ‘Good.’ Thanet was relieved. He had meant what he said to Harrow: if Mrs Harrow didn’t want to talk to them, then that would be that. All the same, he hoped that she would agree to do so. He very much wanted to learn more about Perdita Master.

  ‘What, exactly, is she in for?’

  ‘A whole battery of tests. Harrow says she’s never had very good health but this time she’s apparently been ill for months with one of these mystery viruses that no one can identify. Now they’re making one final attempt to get to the bottom of it.’

  A few minutes later a pretty young coloured nurse came into the room. ‘Sister says you can talk to Mrs Harrow now. We’ve transferred her to one of the side wards.’

  The Ward Sister met them at the door. ‘I’ve told Mrs Harrow that it’s up to her to say when the interview is to stop.’

  Thanet nodded. ‘That’s fine by us.’

  His first sight of Rosamund Harrow shook him and he at once understood the general aura of protectiveness which seemed to surround her. She was sitting in a chair beside the bed, wearing a thick woollen dressing gown. On top of that, around her shoulders was draped a blue woollen bedjacket, presumably the one Harrow had brought in the previous evening, and over her knees was a tartan rug. Even so, despite all this camouflage, nothing could disguise her emaciation. The ankles which protruded from beneath the rug were mere sticks, the hands bundles of bones, the head little more than a skull encased in skin stretched tight. To him it looked as though this was a hopeless case, that disease had already almost won the battle against medical science. If he had known she was in this condition he wouldn’t have dreamt of interviewing her unless it were absolutely essential. However, it was too late to back out now without causing her embarrassment. Harrow was sitting beside her, one arm around her shoulders.

  ‘Mrs Harrow, I really am sorry to trouble you.’

  Her lips quivered and she pressed them hard against each other for a moment before speaking. ‘I …’ She cleared her throat, tried again, ‘I do understand that it’s necessary. In the …’ She shook her head as tears began to spill over and trickle down her cheeks.

  ‘Look, let’s just forget this, shall we? It’s not essential that I speak to you at the moment. I’ll come back later, when you’ve had a little time …’ Privately, Thanet was resolved not to come back at all unless it were absolutely unavoidable. It had been stupid anyway, even to consider interviewing a sick woman five minutes after she’d heard her daughter had been murdered. What could he have been thinking of?

  She shook her head, wiping her eyes with a balled-up handkerchief. ‘No. It’s all right, really. I’d like to help, if I can.’

  Thanet was already at the door. He hesitated, glancing at Harrow.

  Harrow said, ‘I think my wife really would prefer you to stay.’

  ‘Yes, I would. Please, Inspector, do sit down – if you can find something to sit on, that is.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  She nodded.

  Thanet felt he had no choice. ‘Fetch us a couple of chairs, would you, Sergeant?’

  Lineham disappeared, returning a few moments later with two plastic-topped stools.

  ‘If you feel you’ve had enough at any point, just say the word.’

  She nodded, attempted a smile. ‘Thank you. You’re very kind.’

  Thanet didn’t feel in the least kind, he felt a monster. ‘It’s just that we thought you may be able to fill us in a little on your daughter’s background.’

  She waited, her brown eyes huge in their sunken sockets.

  ‘We understand Mrs Master came to see you on Sunday afternoon?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes. She … She wanted me to know that she and Giles – her husband – were splitting up, that she’d asked for a divorce.’ Mrs Harrow gave Harrow an apologetic glance. ‘She also told me that she’d fallen in love with someone else. I’m sorry, love, I co
uldn’t tell you that before, she asked me not to say anything to anybody at the moment.’

  ‘Did she say who the man was?’ said Harrow.

  His wife shook her head. ‘No. But I certainly can’t blame her, after what she went through with Giles, can you?’

  ‘So,’ said Thanet, ‘her news didn’t exactly surprise you?’

  ‘Only in that I couldn’t believe she’d actually plucked up the courage to tell him. No, I knew she hadn’t been happy with Giles for a long time.’

  ‘Why was that, do you know?’

  ‘Several things, really. Giles had always been, well, difficult.’ She glanced at Harrow.

  ‘I told you,’ said Harrow. ‘Jealous. Very possessive.’

  Mrs Harrow sighed. ‘Oh, incredibly. You wouldn’t believe … He had to know every single thing she did. Perdita even had to account to him for every penny she spent. She loved pretty things, nice clothes, but Giles … He always seemed to think she was dressing to attract other men. I remember once he even tore up a new shirt she’d bought, said it was too revealing, too transparent. I don’t know how she stuck it as long as she did.’

  Talking seemed to have calmed her down and Thanet was beginning to feel more comfortable about the interview. ‘So when she told him she wanted a divorce …?’

  ‘He went berserk. Locked her in the bedroom. Would you believe, she had to get away by climbing out of the window? Luckily there’s a little extension at the back and she was able to drop down on to the roof, or she’d have been stuck there.’

  ‘It sounds as though you were really quite relieved to hear they were splitting up.’

  ‘Well, when your daughter’s unhappy like that, over a period of years, it’s very hard to bear. No, she knew I’d be pleased, that’s why she wanted to tell me, and especially about the fact that she’d found someone else.’

  ‘And she really gave no hint as to who he was?’

  ‘No … though I think I can guess. But perhaps I shouldn’t have said that. He’s married and now that she’s … I wouldn’t want to make trouble for him. Perdita wouldn’t want me to, I’m sure.’ Mrs Harrow shook her head, the tears welling up and spilling over once more. She dabbed them away. ‘It seems so unfair. She’s had such a rotten time of it and now, just when it seemed … It wasn’t just her husband, you see, it was her mother-in-law too. She made everything ten times worse.’

 

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