‘Well, if this investigation achieves nothing else, it should save a lot of people a great deal of heartache,’ said Tanya.
‘By the way, talking of heartache, Tanya, I was thinking . . .’ said Thanet.
Tanya looked delighted to be given the task of trying to trace Caroline. ‘Just up my street, sir,’ she said.
‘Good. You can get started on it right away, as soon as you’ve finished here. I’d like you and Carson to stay on, make sure there’s nothing we’ve missed. If Digby is blackmailing any of these people, there should be some kind of evidence somewhere. He may well have destroyed correspondence, if there ever was any, but you might take a look at his bank statements, for instance. He didn’t buy all this equipment on a gardener’s salary.’
Leaving Tanya to it Thanet and Lineham went downstairs.
The fear in Digby’s eyes as he caught sight of the incriminating manila envelopes was plain for all to see.
‘Proper little paparazzo, aren’t you?’ said Lineham, holding them up.
‘Where did you get those?’ cried Digby. ‘I’ve never seen them in my life before!’
‘Don’t try to put one over on us!’ said Thanet. ‘Who else would have taped them to the underside of those drawers?’
‘I’ve been set up!’ said Digby. ‘You must have planted them yourselves.’
‘Who d’you think the Court would believe?’ said Lineham. ‘You or the three police officers present when they were found?’
‘Anyway,’ said Digby, ‘there’s no law against taking photographs, is there?’
‘Unless they are obscene,’ said Thanet. ‘Or blackmail is involved.’
Digby erupted out of his chair and Carson moved quickly to put a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. ‘Blackmail! What blackmail? You can’t pin that on me!’
‘Really?’ said Thanet grimly. ‘We’ll see about that. Tell the others I want him taken in for questioning,’ he said to Carson. ‘Then you join Tanya upstairs. She’ll tell you what we’re looking for.’
Ignoring Digby’s protests he and Lineham left.
‘Let him stew,’ said Thanet as they got into the car. ‘He can have a taste of his own medicine.’
‘He deserves all he gets,’ said Lineham. ‘Rachel was right, wasn’t she? He’s a real slimeball.’ He glanced at the envelopes. ‘Had quite a haul there, didn’t we?’
‘Certainly did. Tanya’s right. This should save a lot of people a great deal of heartache.’
‘Will we try to trace them?’
‘I doubt it. Where would we start? Unless Tanya and Carson come up with anything, of course. Otherwise it would be too time-consuming and a drain on resources. Anyway, if he is actively engaged in blackmailing any of them, no doubt they’ll realise something’s happened when the demands stop coming, and there’ll be sighs of relief all round.’
‘So where now, sir? Agon?’
‘Oh I think so, yes.’
This time the receptionist’s smile was definitely forced. ‘He’s coaching again, I’m afraid.’ Once again she offered coffee while they waited and once again they refused. As they left she reached for the telephone.
‘Looks as though he might be in trouble with the management,’ said Lineham. ‘Not very good for the Club image, is it, having the police around.’
‘Am I supposed to cry?’ said Thanet.
This time it was a man Agon was coaching.
‘Doesn’t look too pleased to see us, does he?’ said Lineham, as they sat down on a bench to watch. ‘I suppose this is how his affair with Virginia Mintar started.’
‘Probably. Almost certainly it was here that she met him.’
‘And it must have been going on while Rachel was in Switzerland and Mrs Amos was in New Zealand.’
‘Quite.’
Thanet wasn’t sure if Agon deliberately kept them waiting but it was a good half an hour before the lesson finished. Thanet didn’t mind. There was nothing particularly urgent awaiting his attention and it was good to sit here in the shade, listening to the soothing thock of racquet against ball.
Agon finally said goodbye to his client then strolled across, slinging a towel around his neck and wiping his forehead with one end. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here again, Inspector.’
I bet you didn’t, thought Thanet.
‘I thought I’d answered every question you asked as fully as possible.’
‘Let’s go and sit at one of the tables,’ said Thanet.
‘I really have nothing more to add,’ Agon insisted.
Thanet said nothing, just led the way.
When they were settled he said, ‘You’ve been less than frank with us, haven’t you, Mr Agon?’
‘Oh?’ Agon’s eyes were wary. ‘In what respect?’
‘Middle-aged, I think you called Mrs Mintar,’ said Lineham. ‘And, if I recall your exact words, “Why eat mutton when you can have lamb?” Am I right?’
‘What are you getting at?’
Agon still looked unruffled. As far as he knew, of course, the only person who could confirm or deny that he and Virginia had an affair was Virginia herself, and she was dead.
Lineham put the manila envelope on the table. ‘This,’ he said.
Agon’s eyes flicked to the envelope then from one face to the other. The calm certainty he must have read there rattled him. ‘What is it?’
For reply Lineham took the photographs out of the envelope and, slowly and deliberately, spread them out across the table, in front of Agon and facing him so that he could not possibly misread their contents. Then he sat back and folded his arms.
‘My God!’ said Agon. He looked aghast. ‘Where the hell did you get these? Who took them? I’ll have his guts for garters!’
‘So, you recognise yourself,’ said Lineham. ‘And, of course, the lady.’
Agon was silent for a few moments, still studying the photographs. Then, astonishingly, he smiled, a smug, self-satisfied, somewhat prurient smile. ‘Actually, you know,’ he said, ‘they’re really rather good.’
‘Mr Agon,’ said Thanet, intervening for the first time. ‘I don’t think you quite appreciate the seriousness of your position. Mrs Mintar is dead. Somebody killed her. Now we find that you have lied to us about having an affair with her.’
‘Oh no!’ said Agon vehemently, leaning forward to emphasise his objection. ‘You needn’t try and pin that on me! All this was months ago.’
‘So why lie to us?’ said Lineham, sweeping the photographs together and putting them back in the envelope.
‘Well, obviously because I didn’t want to seem involved.’
‘Implying that you were.’
‘No! It was over, done with. I just didn’t see the point in bringing it up.’
‘Rather a naïve point of view, don’t you think?’ said Thanet. ‘It seems to us much more likely that you didn’t want us to know because you hoped we never would find out, especially as no one else seemed to know about it. Incidentally, why was it kept so quiet? We haven’t had the impression that Mrs Mintar was exactly secretive about her affairs.’
‘She thought people might laugh at her,’ Agon said sulkily. ‘Because I was so much younger.’
This bore out what Susan Amos had told them.
‘Many women would regard it as something of a triumph, to have a younger man in tow,’ said Lineham.
‘Not Virginia,’ said Agon. ‘Anyway, I saw no point in telling you, in case you got ideas. And I was right, wasn’t I? Though how you think an affair which finished months ago could possibly have made me tip her down a well on Saturday beats me.’
‘Unless . . .’ said Thanet.
‘What?’
‘We know of at least one person who is being blackmailed by the character who took these,’ said Lineham, tapping the envelope with one fingernail.
‘So?’
‘What if he was also blackmailing Mrs Mintar?’ said Thanet.
‘I don’t see what you’re getting at.’
‘Rachel Mintar’s a good catch, isn’t she?’ said Lineham.
‘I resent that remark! I love Rachel and she loves me!’
‘Resent it or not, it’s true. And you admitted to us yourself that her parents weren’t exactly over the moon about it.’
‘I still don’t see—’ Agon burst out, and then, as heads at nearby tables turned, in a fierce whisper: ‘I still don’t see what you’re getting at. What have me and Rachel got to do with what happened on Saturday?’
‘Possibly quite a lot,’ said Thanet. ‘Because something else happened on Saturday, didn’t it? You and Rachel announced your engagement.’
‘So?’ said Agon again.
‘So maybe this galvanised Mrs Mintar into action.’
‘What sort of action?’
Thanet shrugged. ‘Just say, for the sake of argument, that whoever took these photographs was blackmailing Virginia Mintar too. Maybe she decided to tell you about it.’
‘What would have been the point of that? I mean, what would she have hoped to achieve?’
‘She could have threatened to show them to Rachel?’
‘You’re barking up the wrong tree! I never saw those photographs before in my life! I never even knew they existed until you put them on the table just now.’
‘Unfortunately,’ said Thanet as they walked away, ‘I believed him, didn’t you? I’d swear he’d never set eyes on them before.’
‘Inspector!’ Agon was running after them.
They turned.
‘There won’t be any need for Rachel to know about this, will there?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t give you any guarantees,’ said Thanet. ‘We have no idea as yet what will or will not be considered relevant to our inquiry.’
‘But if it isn’t relevant?’ said Agon eagerly.
‘I’m sorry, I just can’t commit myself on that, one way or the other.’
‘Now look—’ said Agon angrily.
‘No, sir. You look. This is a murder inquiry and I refuse to have my hands tied by any member of the public wishing to restrict my behaviour for his own convenience.’
‘If looks could kill,’ said Lineham as they went on their way, ‘you’d be dead as a doornail. Though why a doornail should be dead I can’t imagine.’
‘Brewer would tell you, no doubt.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘It, Mike. Brewer’s Dictionary of Phrase and Fable. Wait till Richard’s on his Os and As, it’s amazing what you’ll pick up. Anyway, d’you agree with what I was saying, before we were interrupted?’
‘That Agon didn’t know those photos existed, you mean? Unless he’s a brilliant actor, yes, unfortunately. He wouldn’t have been so completely confident before we showed them to him, otherwise.’
‘Quite.’ They were silent for a while, thinking, and it was not until they were in the car that Thanet said, ‘I think we might be barking up the wrong tree as far as Agon is concerned, Mike. We must remember that for all we know Virginia was also unaware that those photographs existed. And the problem is, I can’t see why else she would have gone out to talk to him in the first place, can you?’
‘Perhaps the fact that Rachel had actually gone as far as getting engaged made her reconsider trying to buy Agon off.’
‘But her original objection would still have held good, surely, Mike – Agon might have told Rachel her mother had tried to bribe him to leave and turned her against Virginia. No, I don’t think she would have risked it.’
‘What if she’d threatened to tell Rachel about the affair, then?’
‘The same applies, surely. She’d still be running the risk of losing Rachel, if for a different reason. What engaged girl would enjoy being told her mother’s been sleeping with her fiancé? The fact is, the poor woman was in a real dilemma as far as Rachel was concerned. Whatever course of action she took to try to get rid of Agon might also have resulted in alienating Rachel, the very thing she wished to avoid.’
‘Well, I don’t think we ought to give up on Agon,’ said Lineham, his mouth setting in stubborn lines. ‘If we found his fingerprints on the well cover, for instance . . .’
‘Let’s hope the lab gets a move on,’ said Thanet. ‘And no, we certainly won’t cross him off our list. But I wouldn’t say he’s exactly at the top of it, either.’
‘So, what now, sir?’
Thanet glanced at his watch. Another hour before he had to report to Draco. But there was no definite lead he wanted to follow up at the moment. On impulse he said to Lineham, ‘I think we’ll pay a visit to the resident witch.’
‘What for?’ Lineham grinned. ‘Because she intrigues you, I suppose.’
‘Well, she is involved, so to speak.’
‘Marginally, perhaps.’
‘All right, marginally. But involved nevertheless. After all, if her son hadn’t eloped with Caroline, who knows? Virginia might still be alive.’
‘How d’you work that out?’
‘Stop being so logical, Mike, and just drive, will you?’
Lineham drove.
There was no proper driveway to Marah Swain’s cottage, just a rough track turning off to the right about half a mile beyond the Mintars’ house. Branches of overhanging trees brushed the roof of the car as Lineham drove slowly and carefully along it. The ground was rock hard, the ruts baked solid by the unremitting heat of the past weeks.
‘Can’t be doing the suspension much good,’ the sergeant grumbled.
Thanet suppressed a smile. Lineham was always fussing over his car.
A couple of hundred yards in from the road the track swung to the left and Lineham jammed on his brakes as they rounded the bend. Here the track narrowed to little more than a path and the way ahead was blocked by another car. ‘Great!’ he muttered. ‘We’ll have to reverse all the way back, I suppose.’
‘Isn’t that Mr Mintar’s car?’ said Thanet.
‘So it is!’
The driver’s door of the dark green 5 series BMW hung open and the keys still swung in the ignition.
‘Begging for trouble, that is!’ said Lineham.
Thanet did not reply. The message of urgency conveyed by the open door and the abandoned car had made him recall their last conversation with Mintar. He suddenly realised what it might have been that Mintar had refused to tell him. He snatched the keys out of the ignition and set off up the track at a run. ‘Come on, Mike.’
‘What?’ said Lineham, catching up, bewildered by Thanet’s sudden haste.
‘I’ve just – realised – the conclusion – Mintar might have drawn – from the questions – we were asking,’ puffed Thanet. He was more out of condition than he thought.
‘What?’ said Lineham again.
‘He said – Marah Swain held Caroline – to blame – for losing her son. Mintar might have thought – we suspected her – of killing his wife.’
‘Out of revenge, you mean?’
‘Oldest motive – in the world, Mike. If she couldn’t – take it out on Caroline – she’d take it out – on her mother instead.’
‘Sir! Listen!’
They paused, to do so. Ahead of them there was the sound of banging and shouting. They took off again and a moment or two later came in sight of the house.
Thanet saw at once what Tanya meant. Crouched in the middle of a clearing, solidly built of Kentish ragstone, it had a secretive, almost sinister air. Despite its seclusion grimy net curtains hung at the four tiny windows – all of them, like the front door, firmly shut despite the heat of the day.
‘Open – this – bloody door! Open it! Open – this – bloody door!’ Mintar’s shouts were punctuated by thumps. He was so intent on what he was doing and was making so much noise that he didn’t hear them approach and started visibly when Thanet laid a hand on his arm.
‘Not much point in that, is there, sir? She’s obviously not going to open up.’ Now that Mintar had stopped shouting Thanet could hear a radio playing loudly inside the house. Tanya had mentioned this earlier, he r
emembered.
Mintar stared at him dully, his mind still focused elsewhere. Then, slowly, Thanet felt the tension in the man’s arm begin to seep away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the net at one of the downstairs windows twitch. She was watching, then.
‘What were you hoping to achieve, sir?’
Mintar shook his head in despair. ‘She knows more than she’s telling us. She knows where Caroline is, I’m sure of it. And Caro has a right to be told about her mother! I . . . I . . .’ Mintar turned his head away, ashamed no doubt of the tears which threatened to fall.
Thanet saw that he had been wrong. He had misjudged the man. Despair over the death of his wife had loosened the constraints of convention which Mintar normally imposed upon himself, causing this uncharacteristic behaviour. It was not revenge the man sought, but consolation, from the daughter he had lost and mourned in secret. He, Thanet, should have told Mintar of their plans to make a further attempt to trace her. ‘What did you propose to do, sir, shake the information out of her? That’s not the way to go about it. Besides, I’ve already put one of my best officers on to trying to find Caroline. I agree with you, she needs to be told about her mother’s death. So why don’t you let Sergeant Lineham escort you back to the house and let me see what I can do here?’
Mintar nodded meekly and without a word turned away and followed Lineham back across the clearing.
Thanet waited until they were out of sight. Then he knocked loudly at the door and waited.
No response.
He knocked again, and called, ‘Police, Miss Swain. I need a word.’
A moment later there was the sound of bolts being drawn back and the door opened a crack. The noise from the radio increased and a whiff of foul air drifted out as an eye appeared, with a wisp of grey hair above. He remembered what Tanya had said about the smell and recalled her description of Marah Swain: ‘ . . . long grey hair which straggles down over her shoulders and chest . . . dresses like something out of the nineteenth century – shapeless ankle-length black skirt, woollen shawl, thick stockings and old leather boots . . . He held his identification up to the narrow gap and, raising his voice in case she was deaf as Tanya had suggested, introduced himself. ‘I’d like to talk to you.’
Dead and Gone Page 19
