by Lou Peters
‘Not as a general rule. Some of them took exception to the conversion. Didn’t want the tone of the neighbourhood lowering with the influx of students, and it wasn’t just people this side of the avenue. The semis across the way handed a petition in to the local MP, Roger something or other, I believe. Didn’t do them much good though, as you can see, but we’ve been careful in our choice of students. The young men and women have to go through a vetting process. We only ever take them on a six month tenancy, reviewed after that period has elapsed and if they come up to the mark we extend the agreement for a further six. Seems to work okay, we’ve had no complaints so far.
‘Is that from the students, or the other residents in the street?’
‘Both. I think people realised they were making a fuss about nothing. The kids have the occasional house party, but then doesn’t everybody? Of course, I’m here to take charge of things.’
Cooper caught Walter’s eye, but no comment was made. The look wasn’t lost on the caretaker.
‘I know what you’re both thinking, how can a cripple keep things in order? I was thinking that myself, when I took on the role. But I needed a home and my brother in law needed someone he could trust, to keep his eye on things. We both took a leap in the dark and amazingly it’s worked out. I’ve had nothing but respect from the kids. As I say, they’re a good bunch, but maybe we’ve just been lucky. Perhaps the next intake won’t be so considerate.’
The man did have a way with him, in spite of his disability and after forming his first impression, Walters found himself revising his opinion, which didn’t happen very often. ‘I wondered, as you took up residence six months after Ruth Montgomery moved away, were you provided with a forwarding address for her at all?’
‘No, she’d arranged to have her post re-directed for the first three or four months and anything that came after that, normally junk mail, I returned to sender. If there had been anything important looking, I would’ve passed it on to the owner and he would’ve made sure the woman received it.’
‘So if anybody had come knocking on your door to enquire about Ruth, you wouldn’t have been able to help them?’
‘No, but I don’t think I’d have given out the information to them anyway, even if I’d had it to give. Not unless I was certain who the person was and what their relationship had been to the elderly woman. You have to be so security conscious these days and know exactly who it is you’re dealing with.’
Walters didn’t doubt the truth of Roberts’ statement for a minute, remembering the wait on the doorstep while their ID cards had been thoroughly vetted.
‘But there’s been no-one enquiring about her, only you,’ he continued.
‘Do you know Mr. Roberts, if any houses have been sold recently, possibly new people coming into the street that we can probably cross off our list?’
‘Yes, I would say you could eliminate number seven, across the way. The people only moved in a few weeks ago, young family with a baby.’
‘Would you happen to know the family’s name?’
‘Sorry, I can’t help you on that. Saw the removal van role up and that’s about the extent of my knowledge. I can tell you who used to live there, though. She may be of interest to you. I think she’d lived there for quite a number of years and so would likely have known Mrs. Montgomery. Her name is Mavis Willoughby. The woman lost her husband twelve months ago. I suppose that’s the reason she’d put the house up for sale. Sorry,’ the man apologised again, ‘I’m forgetting my manners, would either of you like a drink?’
A shot of Talisker, would have gone down a treat, Walters thought. However, he declined the man’s offer, knowing it would either be tea or coffee that was being offered. ‘No thanks, we don’t intend to stay long. The light is fading outside already and we’ve still got doors to knock on.’ He handed his card to the caretaker. ‘I don’t suppose you know where Mrs. Willoughby moved to?’
The man shook his head.
‘Ah well, looks like we’ll have to call on number seven after all. If you should hear of anything you think might be of interest to us...’
‘...I’ll be sure to let you know.’ The man finished for him.
Cooper stood up. He looked out of the window, into the rear garden. ‘It’s funny I never imagined Ruth Montgomery’s garden would look like this. I thought the old lady would have had a rose bed at least.’
‘Oh, she used to detective sergeant, you’re quite right. It was really pretty when I first arrived here. Stuart, the owner, thought it would be too much for me, so he got a local landscape gardener in to make the alterations. I expect it was quite a weird job for him.’
Cooper looked askance, not sure what the little man meant.
‘Normally people want lawns laid, shrubs planted and flower beds created. But this was really the reverse. Shrubs had to be uprooted and a lot of concrete and stone work done in its place. Still, I think he made a good job of it. The gardener kept some of the greenery, but now it’s very low maintenance, which is ideal for me. I can still sit outside in the summer and have a chilled beer, but without all the hard work.’
‘You don’t happen to know the name of the landscaper do you?’ Walter’s asked, as the obvious thought struck him.
‘Not off the top of my head, but I may have a card here somewhere.’ Mr. Roberts opened a low drawer and started to rummage though the contents.
‘It wouldn’t have been Richard Johnson, by any chance?’
‘I’m not sure, the name kind of sounds familiar.’ He continued his search. ‘Are here we are. I thought I’d seen one somewhere.’ He produced a card and placed it in Walters’ waiting hand, struggling with the eye contact now the three men were again standing.
‘Well, well... Walters read aloud from the card. Richard Johnson - Landscape Gardener - Call the number below for a no obligation quote, simple enough, just the man’s name and a couple of telephone numbers. One’s a mobile number. It may be worth giving it a call Cooper.’
‘Rather a coincidence sir.’
‘I don’t know if I believe in coincidences, detective sergeant.’
‘So do you know Mr. Johnson?’ Arnold enquired, feeling his height as he spoke down to the diminutive man.
‘Yes of course. I met him. I was living here when he came to do the garden.’ Despite his best efforts, the vertically challenged man could only address the region of the sergeant’s navel. ‘A really pleasant chap, as I recall, not afraid of hard work. He had a young lad with him and they worked well together. It was a shame, I think the boy was going to go off and join the army. The gardener, Johnson, was trying to talk him out of it. It sounded as if the man had had a stretch in the forces himself. He’d said that sometimes, it wasn’t all you hoped it would be.’
‘Did he elaborate on that, at all?’ Walters asked. He nodded to Cooper for him to make a note, ensuring they followed up the services element of the man’s life when they returned to the station.
‘No, just that single comment when I’d taken them out a cold drink one hot afternoon. The lad wasn’t having any of it of course, said he was after some adventure in his life. The gardener had said to me, out of earshot of the boy, the trouble is these lads play computer war games, it gets under their skin. What they don’t seem to realise, is it isn’t real life. No one gets killed in a game. I’d agreed with him, but told him the boy had got to make his own decision.’
‘What did he say to that?’
‘He shrugged, said he knew. He just hoped the boy wouldn’t be sorry.’
‘Have you seen Mr. Johnson recently?’
‘No, not since he did the job here, probably a year ago now. Why, is this another of your cases that you’re working on?
‘No Mr. Roberts, it’s the same enquiry. It appears Richard Johnson was the last person to see Mrs. Montgomery before she was found dead; we urgently need to speak to him about it. However, the man seems to have vanished into thin air. So, if you do come across him, I suggest you keep out of his way and g
ive us or your local constabulary a call.’
‘I can’t believe it. Have you ever met the man detective inspector?’
‘No, I’ve not had the pleasure, so far.’
‘Well, if you had, then you would know why I am so reluctant to even consider the possibility Mr. Johnson could have harmed the old lady.’
‘You and everybody else we’ve met, so far.’
‘Doesn’t that tell you anything about the man’s character?’
‘Sometimes, circumstances overtake us Mr. Roberts. Did Mr. Johnson say if he’d done any other work in the area, perhaps in this road?’
‘He didn’t say, but I’m sure he hadn’t, well not while I’ve been living here, I’d have seen his vehicle parked in the street.’
‘And did he admit to being here before, maybe doing some work for Mrs. Montgomery?’
‘Ah, I see you’re after the connection between the two. Forgive me; I’m being a bit slow on the uptake. Well he didn’t say he’d been here before, perhaps one of the neighbours would be able to assist you. After all, it is only two years ago since the old lady left. People once buying in the area, do tend to stay for a long time, so you may get lucky.’
‘Before we go, could you let us have a contact number for your brother in law, we may not need to bother him but it would be good to have the information, just in case.’
‘Certainly, I’ll write it down for you, his name’s Stuart Graves.’ The man picked up a blue biro from off the table in front of him and scrawled a name and telephone number on a small lined pad. Ripping the page out of the book he passed it to the detective inspector who pocketed it.
‘Thanks for your help, Mr. Roberts.’ Walters said, shaking the man’s hand, his grip firm within his own. ‘Don’t forget to contact us, if anything should turn up.’
Cooper duplicated the action before the policemen headed out into the street. There had been no signs of any other activity in Queensbury Villas. Walters’ wondered if the young people resident in the building had been out. Or perhaps the house was so solidly built; any noise from the separate apartments would have been absorbed into its substantial walls.
‘You didn’t want to interview the kids, sir?’
‘Couldn’t see the point, they were hardly likely to know the old woman. Most student accommodation is for people attending universities or colleges outside of their own areas.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘Please let me know if you have thoughts to the contrary, Cooper.’ They were standing on the pavement outside of the house recently visited, deciding which door to knock on next.
‘No sir, not at all. Can’t believe Johnson had actually done work at Mrs. Montgomery’s old place. In a way it makes things more confusing, edges him back into the frame a little, don’t you think?’
‘If you want the truth Arnold, I don’t know what the bloody hell to think. If only Johnson would just show his face, we may get somewhere. We need to think about this logically. Travis has routed out a witness who fortunately saw Ruth at the market on the morning in question. She saw her fall, as though violently pushed, had been the expression used. So we can discount her stumbling over her own feet. Alas, the witness didn’t see the person who did the pushing. Johnson rushes to the old woman’s aid, leaving his girlfriend, Rachel Smith, standing where she was. Now that to me seems strange, Cooper. Why didn’t Smith rush over as well, instead of standing there twiddling her thumbs? Let’s leave that to one side for the moment. Johnson helps the woman to her feet. What we need to find out is what Ruth said to Johnson to make him visit her the next day. Did she tell him who’d pushed her? Could it be someone they both knew from the region they used to live? I would guess yes, and that was the reason Johnson went to see the woman on Wednesday morning. And the reason we’re here. It’s the only connection between the two we’ve got. I was hoping someone had recently been trying to track Ruth down, hence asking Mr. Roberts if anybody had been enquiring after her.’
‘But then we’d be assuming Johnson’s innocent. If he did the killing...
‘Come on, let’s get on with it. We can continue our theorising when we’re back at the hotel, with something alcoholic in front of us. You never know, by that time we may have found out something useful to help us fill in the blanks.’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Saturday Evening 12 December 2009
The telephone call had been as bad as Walters had expected. ‘Really Mark, if you knew you were going to be away for the week-end, wouldn’t it have been a common courtesy to let me know sooner?’
‘I’m sorry Jan, I was hoping I’d be back tomorrow morning, but things are taking longer than I expected.’
His sister put her hand over the receiver while she called to her family to inform them Mark wouldn’t be able to make it tomorrow, adding to his acute discomfort. ‘Well, I’m not going to waste the food. I’ll freeze your dinner, if I have to. You can have it thawed and reheated when you get back. Simon’s disappointed as well; he was looking forward to the two of you slopping off to the pub. Never mind the boys, who’ve forgotten what their Uncle Mark looks like.’
‘It’s a murder investigation, Jan. I can’t… just not be here.’
‘I fully understand that Mark…’ Her voice had become softer after her initial rant and he knew she’d already forgiven him. ‘...nobody’s suggesting otherwise. What I find hard to understand, is why you couldn’t have let me know earlier. Or why you made the arrangements in the first place.’
‘Because I was feeling guilty,’ Walters freely admitted. ‘I haven’t been to see mum for ages. I know I’m an idiot and don’t deserve a sister like you. I really am sorry Jan.’
‘Okay, okay, you’ll have me crying in a minute. Don’t worry about mum, she’s being well cared for and wouldn’t know if you’d been to see her or not. But the first chance you get you better come and see your family, otherwise, Mark, there’ll be big trouble.’
‘I promise.’
‘Alright, bugger off now. Go and catch your killer. Hopefully see you soon… and be careful, Mark,’ Janice added, suddenly acknowledging the danger her brother could be facing.
Cooper was slouched over the bar waiting for Walters, two pints of foaming lager in front of him. ‘How did it go sir?’
‘Okay, I think my sister is still talking to me, just. Let’s take our drinks over to that empty table in the corner.’
Following his boss’s lead Cooper headed towards the empty nook. Horse brasses gleamed vertical on the dark stained wooden beams either side of the recess, along with other items of memorabilia. Ugly faced Toby jugs leered at them from a nearby shelf, catching the light from the flames flickering in the hearth. The Royal Oak, the hostelry the officers were booked into for the night, was situated on the outskirts of Chester and subsequently quieter and less expensive than if located in the city centre. It had been a long day and Walters’ head was beginning to ache, the early start they’d had to catch the train beginning to catch up with him. The glass felt cold as he raised it to his lips and he took a long draught.
‘Ah nectar, I’ve been waiting for this all day.’ He wiped the froth from off his top lip with the back of his hand. Walters had bought an A4 lined pad from one of the larger chain of newsagents in the city and he opened the punched pages, reading through the notes. ‘Not a lot to go on for a day’s work, eh Arnold?’
I don’t know, sir, we’ve been able to make enquires with quite a few people today. Although I agree, none of them seem like possible suspects. The trouble is, with people keeping themselves to themselves these days, nobody would know if one of their neighbours had taken a sudden trip to Rasburgh, or anywhere else. At least it seems Richard Johnson hadn’t done any further work in Queensbury Avenue.’
‘Which tells us what sergeant? I’ll say it for you, a big fat zero.’ Walters took a further swig of his pint, leaving half of the golden liquid remaining in the glass.
‘But you still don’t think he killed Ruth Montgomery. J
ohnson having landscaped her garden after she’d left must have been a pure coincidence.’
‘How else are we supposed to treat it? The woman had never met Johnson. Well certainly not on that occasion. We still need to speak to three lots of people. Johnson’s parents, you never know we might find the man himself, holed up there waiting for us, but I doubt it, Charles Coventry and Mavis Willoughby in her sheltered OAP bungalow.’
‘Well, that should take care of tomorrow... I’ve been thinking...’
‘…A dangerous occupation, detective sergeant.’
‘What if Mrs. Montgomery knew something about someone’s past that he or she preferred to keep secret.’
‘Blackmailing that person, you mean? You think it’s possible she had information Johnson didn’t want disclosing and he killed her because of it.’
‘Why not? It’s as good a reason as any. Or alternatively, Ruth could have been the target. She’d left the area to escape the extortionist’s clutches, only when the person who’d been blackmailing her found out her new address, went knocking on Mrs. Montgomery’s door, initially to confront her about the non payments. Things had got out of hand and ... well you know the rest, sir.’
‘I suppose the perpetrator had thoughtfully carried a hammer about his person as well, Cooper, just in case things, got out of hand…’ Walters replaced his glass onto the table.’
‘Maybe Ruth kept a hammer in the kitchen and the killer discovered it.’
‘That was handy for him. Anyway, the blackmailing aspect should be easy enough to check out. When we get back obtain copies of the woman’s bank statements. See if any regular historic payments have been made into her account and if they’d suddenly stopped when she’d moved. Or conversely, if she’d had regular sums of money coming into her account, if so from whom.’
‘You think it’s a possibility?’
‘Maybe, I’m still not convinced Johnson’s our man, though. According to the waitress in the Rainbow Café, Ruth Montgomery had appeared pleased to see the person. She’d raised her arm in greeting, now if it had been a blackmailer she’d hardly be pleased to see that person, would she? And also Johnson had come to her assistance supposedly from behind her, not from the front, as you’d expect if he’d have been the one to push her.’
