Jigsaw

by Anthea Fraser

  ‘Well then?’

  There was a brief pause. ‘I’d be much happier if Max was in on this.’

  ‘No deal.’

  Another pause. ‘Only two visits, you said? Four days in all?’

  ‘More or less; mid-morning Monday to Wednesday afternoon, both weeks.’

  He sighed. ‘I might well regret this, but I’ll do it.’

  Rona breathed a sigh of relief and leant back in her chair. ‘Thanks, Dave. I’ll sleep a lot easier now.’

  Eleven

  ‘All fixed for tomorrow,’ said Lindsey’s voice, as Rona lifted the phone.

  It took her a moment to decipher the message. ‘Oh, the damsel in distress. What did she say?’

  ‘She sounded surprised, but said she’d come.’

  ‘How did she seem?’

  ‘Not jittery or anything, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘And you didn’t mention Max or me?’

  ‘Nary a word.’

  ‘Bless you, Linz, that’s great. What time’s she coming?’

  ‘Three thirty. I’m taking the afternoon off.’

  ‘So if I drop in about four?’

  ‘Fine. God knows what we’ll talk about till you get here.’

  ‘You’ll manage,’ Rona said.

  When Max phoned an hour or two later, Rona relayed the arrangements.

  ‘Oh, that’s wonderful, love. Thanks so much for fixing it.’

  ‘I’m not sure what you want me to do?’

  ‘Look for bruises, if you can without being obvious. Otherwise, just take note of her manner, whether or not you think she’s on edge. If you can get her to talk about her husband, so much the better. God, I don’t know – use your imagination. I’m just uneasy about her, that’s all.’

  ‘Shall I mention you?’

  ‘Better not, unless you can’t avoid it. I certainly don’t want her thinking we’ve discussed her.’

  ‘OK, I’ll see what I can do, and report back.’

  ‘You’re a gem,’ he said.

  Max had described Adele Yarborough as pale and quiet. He had neglected to say she was also extremely pretty. She had a small, pointed face, large eyes of an indeterminate slatey colour, and ash-blonde hair cut very short in a gamine style. Mascara and lipstick seemed to be the extent of her make-up, but the luminous quality of her skin made anything else superfluous. Her dress was long-sleeved, Rona noted, and its colour – rose-pink – added to a general impression of fragility. Her only jewellery was a watch and her wedding ring.

  All this Rona took in in the first, lightning glance. Adele had looked up as she came into the room, and now gave her a shy smile. ‘My goodness!’ she said. ‘Am I seeing double?’

  ‘My twin sister, Rona,’ Lindsey introduced. ‘Ro, this is Adele Yarborough. She and her husband have just moved in across the road.’

  Adele stood to greet her. She was petite in build – not much over five foot, so that Rona and Lindsey towered over her – and the hand she held out was small and firm.

  Rona smiled back. ‘Nice to meet you. Sorry to drop in unannounced,’ she added to Lindsey. ‘I came across that book you lent me, and thought I’d better return it.’ And she put the book down on the coffee table. It was, in fact, one of her own.

  ‘I’m glad you came,’ Lindsey said. ‘I was apologizing to Adele for not inviting some other neighbours, but it was all rather short notice.’ She turned to her guest. ‘Have you spoken to any of them yet?’

  ‘No; with being on the corner, I don’t pass anyone else’s house, and they all drive past mine.’

  Her voice was quiet, and Rona noticed she had not looked directly at Lindsey, either when she was being addressed or when she replied. Instead, her gaze seemed to flutter like a distracted butterfly from a point just over Lindsey’s shoulder to her own lap.

  ‘Well, we’ll have to rectify that,’ Lindsey said brightly. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and make a fresh pot of tea.’ Rona saw there was a plate of home-made scones on the tray, and blessed her sister for the trouble she’d taken.

  ‘Where were you living before?’ she asked Adele, as Lindsey left the room and they both seated themselves.

  ‘In Suffolk.’ Again the downcast eyes. ‘My family comes from there.’

  ‘So you won’t know anyone in Marsborough?’

  ‘Quite honestly, I’ve been too busy getting the house straight. However –’ the smile again, tilting the corners of her mouth – ‘I’ve followed the time-honoured advice and joined a club. Or at least, an art class.’

  Rona bit her lip. No help now but to admit to Max. ‘Really? What a coincidence. My husband teaches art.’

  The slatey eyes, taken unaware, flew to her face. ‘Not – he’s not Mr Allerdyce?’

  ‘The same.’

  ‘Well, that really is a coincidence.’ There was a pause as her eyes fell away. Then she added, ‘He’s been very encouraging.’

  Rona just stopped herself from passing on Max’s opinion of her talents. As Lindsey came back with the teapot, she exclaimed, ‘You’ll never guess, Linz, but Adele has joined Max’s class.’

  Lindsey expressed suitable surprise.

  ‘Have you been to art classes before?’ Rona asked.

  ‘Before I was married. I enjoyed it, but somehow or other it just lapsed.’

  ‘What does your husband do?’ Lindsey asked artlessly, pouring Rona’s tea.

  ‘He’s the sales director at Netherby’s.’ Netherby’s was the town’s premier department store, with a prime position on Guild Street. ‘He’s just been promoted from their Ipswich branch.’

  ‘I hope he gets staff discounts!’ Lindsey said. ‘Have you any family?’

  Rona, afraid she was overdoing the interrogation, gave her a warning glance, but Adele was answering, ‘Yes, a boy and a girl. They’re staying with my parents during the week, so they can finish the term at their present school. I miss them a lot.’

  Taking Rona’s hint, Lindsey abandoned personal questioning, instead giving Adele a thumbnail sketch of her neighbours. ‘The guys in the flat below me are gay,’ she told her. ‘They’re a great pair, always ready to help with any jobs I can’t manage myself. The man directly opposite is a doctor, but his surgery’s in town. His wife’s a theatre nurse at the General.’

  Rona let the conversation drift over her. So far, there was nothing positive she could report to Max. Adele’s arms remained hidden, and no bruises were visible. As to whether or not she was on edge, it was hard to tell, not knowing how she behaved normally. She was obviously unwilling to meet their eyes, but that might have been due to shyness. All she’d volunteered about her husband was where he worked, but Rona didn’t see how they could probe further. Reckoning she’d done all that could be expected of her, she made general contributions to the conversation until, just after four thirty, Adele rose to go.

  ‘It was so kind of you to invite me over,’ she said to the wall behind Lindsey. ‘We’re having some decorating done, but when the house is less of a shambles, you must come to me. You, too,’ she added in Rona’s direction. ‘It was good to meet you both.’

  ‘Well?’ Lindsey demanded, when she returned from seeing her out.

  ‘You were a trooper,’ Rona told her. ‘Scones and all. Thanks, Sis.’

  ‘Are you any the wiser?’

  Rona shrugged. ‘What did you think of her?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Whether I like her, I mean.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I wasn’t quite convinced by all that diffidence. Perhaps it’s just that she’s not my type. Anyway, thanks to you I’ve done my neighbourly duty. I shall now rest on my laurels.’

  ‘You’ll be rewarded in heaven,’ Rona said.

  The front door slammed and Max’s voice called, ‘Hello?’

  ‘In the kitchen!’ Rona called back, and he came clattering down the stairs. Gus pattered over to greet him, tail waving, as she lifted her face for his kiss.

  ‘To coin a phrase, thank God it’s Friday
,’ Max commented, bending down to rub the dog’s ears.

  ‘Likewise,’ Rona agreed.

  He picked up the pile of mail lying on the counter and flicked through it. ‘How did the tea party go?’

  ‘No bruises in evidence.’

  ‘I didn’t think there would be. I presume she was wearing long sleeves?’

  Rona nodded. ‘She knows who I am, by the way. She mentioned the class, so I’d no option but to come clean. She thinks my dropping in was a coincidence, though.’

  ‘So what was your impression of her?’

  ‘Hard to say, after one meeting.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘But?’

  ‘Well, I wasn’t quite sure that it wasn’t an act.’

  He frowned. ‘What wasn’t?’

  ‘Not daring to look you in the eye – all fluttering eyelashes and so on. Is she like that in class?’

  He said shortly, ‘She’s shy. I told you that.’

  ‘No need to snap; I’m only telling you my impression, as requested.’

  ‘I wasn’t snapping, I just think you’re being rather hard on her. No doubt you discussed her with Lindsey?’

  ‘Well, of course.’

  ‘And decided she wasn’t your type, right?’

  That was too close to the truth, and Rona didn’t answer.

  ‘Well, of course she isn’t!’ he said forcefully. ‘She’s the exact opposite of you – shy, vulnerable and unsure of herself.’

  Rona’s temper rose to meet his. ‘Oh, really? Since when did you become a psychologist? You can’t possibly form a judgement like that on the strength of two art classes.’

  ‘You’re forgetting the bruises.’

  ‘No, I’m not forgetting the bloody bruises – you don’t give me a chance to forget them! Look, I don’t know why you’re getting so hot under the collar: it was you who wanted me to meet her, and Lindsey went to considerable trouble to arrange it, taking time off work, baking scones, etc. I don’t see why we should now both be castigated because we’re not prepared to go along with your opinion of her.’

  There was a long silence. Then he said stiffly, ‘I’m grateful.’

  ‘So you should be. From now on you can do your own analysing – you seem to be a dab hand at it.’ She walked quickly across the room and out of the patio doors, coming to a halt in the middle of the little garden and staring unseeingly at a pot of petunias. After a minute she heard him come after her, and felt his hand on her shoulder.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I was out of order. Of course I’m grateful, both to you and Lindsey. It’s just that with Adele being one of my students I feel somehow responsible for her, which of course I’m not. Or at least, not her private life.’

  He turned her gently round to face him. ‘Apology accepted?’

  She stared for a minute into his face, then smiled reluctantly. ‘Apology accepted,’ she said.

  Adele’s name was not mentioned again, and the altercation faded into the background. They walked in the park with Gus, had dinner at Dino’s on the Saturday, and made love. Harmony was restored, and Rona was duly grateful.

  It was Sunday evening before she checked her mobile for messages, and found one from Beth Spencer, asking her to call back. Rona did so.

  ‘Oh Miss Parish, thanks for getting back to me.’ Beth’s voice was excited. ‘Great news! Alan’s changed his mind, as I thought he might, and agreed to see you. The visiting order will be waiting for you at Parsonage Place.’

  Rona felt a jolt of alarm. Her last meeting with a murderer had not gone too well. ‘That’s – great,’ she said. ‘So what do I do?’

  ‘When you get it, phone the prison and make an appointment. They require twenty-four hours’ notice so Tuesday might be pushing it, but Wednesday should be fine. It’s from three to four.’

  Which meant she could still leave for home at the usual time, Rona reflected.

  ‘And a word of warning,’ Beth continued. ‘You’ll have to go through security and you’ll need photographic identification – driving licence or something. Oh, and Alan says don’t let them know you’re a journalist, or they mightn’t let you in.’

  No recorder, then, but she’d never seriously considered it.

  ‘All right, Mrs Spencer, I’ll do what I can, but please remember I can’t make any promises.’

  ‘Just seeing him will convince you he’s innocent,’ said Alan Spencer’s wife.

  Another of the messages was from Dave Lampeter. He’d booked a room at the King’s Head for Monday and Tuesday nights, and would be in Buckford ahead of her, ready to begin his surveillance. If she intended to deviate from the agreed schedule for Monday, would she please leave a message on his mobile. He’d be checking it regularly.

  Now that she’d be seeing Alan Spencer, Rona was even more glad she’d enlisted Dave’s help. If Alan were indeed guilty there’d be no danger; but if, as various people surmised, he’d been wrongly imprisoned, then the real murderer might learn of her visit, with unpredictable results.

  Closing her mind on the possibilities, she went down for supper with Max.

  As Rona was getting out of the car in Parsonage Place, she could see Lois Breen digging in her garden. She raised a hand in greeting and Lois dropped the spade and came over, leaning her elbows on the warm stone of the wall.

  ‘I met Beth Spencer in Tesco’s,’ she said, after they’d exchanged the usual pleasantries. ‘She tells me you’re going to see Alan.’

  ‘That’s right, yes.’

  ‘With what purpose, exactly?’

  Rona met her steady gaze. ‘Not sensation-seeking, I assure you. In fact, she talked me into it against my better judgement.’

  ‘But what are you hoping to achieve?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Rona said frankly. ‘She’s so convinced of his innocence, and various other people obviously have doubts.’

  ‘But even if you find you agree with them, what could you do?’

  Rona hesitated. ‘If I could discover some other motive for killing Pollard, the police might reopen the case.’

  ‘Then surely the obvious person to speak to is Barry’s widow, not his supposed killer.’

  ‘Yes, but—’ Rona stopped, reinterpreting the expression in Lois’s eyes. ‘Do you know her?’

  ‘I do, as it happens. Our last parish was in Sunningdean, though we’d left by the time of the murder. Gordon used to visit Barry in prison; he said he was in a terrible state, and it took months before he’d even begin to look forward to his release as a new beginning. Then, within ten days of it . . . It was an appalling shock, especially since we’d always liked Alan, too.’

  ‘And you’re still in touch with Mrs Pollard?’

  ‘She’s Mrs Bryson now, but yes, I still see her occasionally.’

  Rona moistened her lips. ‘Do you think she’d speak to me?’

  ‘She might, if I asked her. If they have the wrong man, presumably she’d want to know.’

  ‘Lois, I—’

  ‘I’ll ask her here to meet you. That would be less awkward, provided you don’t mind my sitting in on the discussion. Tomorrow morning suit you?’

  ‘It’s very good of you; yes, any time at all.’

  ‘I’ll see if I can arrange it, then. If you don’t hear from me, come over at eleven.’

  ‘Thank you. I really am grateful.’

  Rona was turning away when Lois added dryly, ‘And to forestall any unguarded comments, I should tell you her second marriage broke up, too. Ironic, isn’t it?’

  Nuala emerged from the kitchen as Rona, having left her case in her room, came downstairs. She was pale and there were black circles under her eyes. These were not easy times for her.

  Rona laid an instinctive hand on her arm. ‘How are you?’ she asked.

  ‘Bearing up. The funeral’s been arranged; I’ll be glad when that’s over.’

  ‘When is it?’

  ‘Thursday morning. I – suppose you’ll have gone back?’

  Rona ra
pidly reviewed her plans for the week. Max would object to missing his mid-week visit home, but she felt an obligation towards Miss Rosebury. ‘I’d like to be there,’ she said tentatively. ‘Could I possibly stay over Wednesday night? Obviously, I’d pay you the extra.’

  ‘You’d do nothing of the kind,’ Nuala contradicted, her eyes filling with tears. ‘I really would appreciate it, Rona.’

  ‘That’s settled, then.’ She hesitated. ‘Nothing further came out at the post mortem?’

  ‘No, it was natural causes, thank God. A massive coronary, which considering the condition of her heart, could have happened at any time.’

  ‘That’s a relief, anyway.’

  ‘You do remember supper will be late this evening, after Dad’s exercises?’

  ‘Don’t worry about me; I’ll give the local hostelry a try.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure. Oh, and there’s a letter for you.’ Nuala handed over the envelope.

  The visiting order. Rona avoided her eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  Tom reached absent-mindedly for the ringing phone, his eyes still on the balance sheet.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Mrs Bishop for you, Mr Parish.’

  A wave of heat washed over him and he automatically straightened. ‘Put her through.’

  ‘Hello, Tom,’ said a quiet voice in his ear.

  ‘Catherine! I was going to ring you today. How’s your daughter-in-law?’

  ‘Slowly recovering, poor lamb. Her parents are still with her; Daniel says they’ll stay as long as necessary.’

  ‘He ran you home?’

  ‘Yes, the following evening. And I now have my car back, thank goodness. I wanted to thank you again for all your kindness. I don’t know what we’d have done without you.’

  ‘I just happened to be there at the right time,’ he said.

  ‘I – wonder if you’d accept a small token of our gratitude?’

  ‘Oh, now Catherine—’

  ‘Wait – it’s nothing really, but I have two tickets for Pissarro in London at the National Gallery. I’d booked them for Daniel and Jenny – it’s their anniversary on Wednesday – but obviously they won’t be able to make use of them. I wondered if you and your wife might like to go?’

  Tom’s mind spun as various possibilities presented themselves, evaporating before he could clutch at them.