Dead and Gone

by Dorothy Simpson

  ‘Soon afterwards he went back to London to start his pupillage. He was nearing the end of it and was hoping shortly to be invited to become a full member of Chambers when, on a visit home for a weekend, he ran into Marah and she told him she was pregnant. It was far too late for an abortion by then. I don’t know if she was rather naïvely hoping he might marry her but in any case, when he made it clear that this was definitely not on the cards, she demanded some sort of compensation and threatened to tell his father and even to visit his “office”, as she called it, if it wasn’t forthcoming.’

  ‘I get the picture,’ said Joan. ‘Daddy was a High Court judge, so there would be hell to pay if he heard his son had fathered a child with the gardener’s daughter, especially one as unprepossessing as Marah. And Mintar’s Chambers wouldn’t be exactly happy about it either, to put it mildly. The bar’s a pretty stuffy profession when it comes to that sort of thing, I imagine.’

  ‘And as you say, especially when the girl is someone like Marah. Imagining her turning up in Chambers was a nightmare scenario. Mintar suspected he would lose his chance of a place and was afraid he’d become a laughing-stock and wouldn’t get one elsewhere either if the news got around. All in all, he saw the prospect of his career being blighted before it ever got off the ground. His problem was that he didn’t really have much to offer her as an inducement to keep quiet. He had a small allowance from his father, enough just to keep him ticking over until he started to earn some money, but his prospects for the foreseeable future were pretty slim. In those days young barristers invariably had a hard time of it waiting for work to trickle down to them and when it did the fees were not very high. It’s not like nowadays when if you’re lucky enough to get into a good set of Chambers you’ll probably be offered a pupillage award to smooth your path. So he racked his brains desperately to try to think of a bribe that would keep her quiet.’

  ‘Quite a problem!’

  ‘Exactly. But in the end he did come up with a solution. Marah has lived in that cottage for so long everyone assumes it belongs to her, but it doesn’t, it’s actually part of the Windmill Court property. He promised her that if she remained quiet about his being the father of her child, he would not only pay her a small weekly allowance but would give her the right to live in the cottage rent free for the rest of her life.’

  ‘But he had no right to promise her any such thing, surely? The cottage may be his now but at that time it would have belonged to his father. And even if his father died, it could then have been passed on to his mother.’

  ‘True. But in the event, that didn’t happen. Perhaps he already knew of some family trust or arrangement whereby the property would go straight to him on his father’s death. I don’t know any more than I’ve told you. Anyway, he admits he banked on the fact that Marah was too unsophisticated to question his right to dispose of the cottage as he wished and he was right. She seemed perfectly satisfied with his offer and the legal-looking document he drew up and presented to her. After all, a roof over your head for life is not to be sniffed at.’

  ‘But what if her father had died before Mintar inherited? Wouldn’t the cottage have been required for his successor as gardener? How would Mintar have persuaded his father to let her stay on by herself?’

  Thanet shrugged. ‘No idea. I suppose he thought he’d cross that hurdle if he came to it. In the event, presumably he was lucky and it never happened. The arrangement seems to have worked perfectly all these years until now.’

  ‘But why was she satisfied with the promise of living in the house rent-free? After all, she had him over a barrel, didn’t she? Why didn’t she stick out for ownership?’

  ‘I asked him that. He thought it might simply have been that it never entered her head. It wasn’t as though it was her idea to use the house as a bargaining position, it was his proposal in the first place and he said she was very taken with the suggestion. He was still very nervous that she might think of demanding ownership, of course, and that would have put him in an impossible position. For one thing, as you so rightly pointed out, the cottage wasn’t his to dispose of, and for another, even if it had been, it would have been a disastrous move to make. Once it was hers she could have broadcast the truth of Dick’s parentage whenever she liked and there would have been nothing he could do about it. This way, they were on equal terms and each had a hold over the other. If she spilled the beans he could turn her out and if he reneged on the agreement she could make sure he paid for it.’

  ‘So why did she suddenly decide to go back on the arrangement this afternoon?’

  ‘I think she realised the game was up and she had nothing to lose by telling us. When inquiries were made about Caroline in the past she’d always managed to fob people off, but this time she could see how determined we were to find out what had happened to the girl. She must have realised that when we did, it was more than likely that the secret of Dick’s parentage would come to light. Also, I think that, as I said, even after all this time she was still burning with rage against Caroline and she needed to lash out one last time and vent her anger on someone. Mintar was the perfect target and she couldn’t resist the temptation of humiliating him in front of witnesses.’

  Joan pulled a face. ‘Charming!’

  ‘Quite. And I must say, I think he deserved it. Because what I find unforgivable as far as he’s concerned is the fact that if only he’d had the guts to own up to being Dick’s father when Caroline and Dick started going out together, none of this need have happened. There’d certainly have been no elopement, Caroline would never have had to endure that terrible incarceration and – who knows? – perhaps Virginia might still be alive.’

  They both started as the phone rang.

  Joan snatched it up. ‘Alexander?’ She nodded vigorously at Thanet then listened intently. ‘A girl? That’s wonderful! And everything’s all right? Oh, what a relief! And how’s Bridget? Oh? An emergency caesarian? Oh dear! So how is she now? Oh, good. Excellent. Yes, I see. Oh . . . Oh . . . Good . . . Yes . . . I see . . . We’ll have to keep our fingers crossed then. Yes. Well, we’ll ring the hospital in the morning and come up to see them both tomorrow evening, if all is well. Give her our love, won’t you. ’Bye.’ Joan put down the receiver and turned to Thanet, eyes filled with tears. ‘You heard all that?’

  Thanet nodded speechlessly, having himself run the gamut of emotions from elation and relief to fear and back again to relief throughout the brief call.

  Joan filled in the details for him. ‘The baby is one and a half kilos – that’s about three pounds, five ounces, and an excellent weight for thirty-three weeks, apparently. She’s been examined by a paediatrician and he says she’s in very good shape. She’s had to go to the Special Care Baby Unit, but that’s routine with premature babies and no cause for alarm.’

  When she had finished, Thanet jumped up. Just wait there,’ he said. A few minutes later he returned with glasses and a bottle of champagne in a cooler. ‘I put this on ice earlier,’ he said, with a grin stretching from ear to ear. ‘As an act of faith. But before I open it . . .’ He disappeared into the house again and came back with a parcel. ‘I bought this for Christmas,’ he said, ‘but I just can’t wait that long to give it to you. And now seems as appropriate a moment as any.’

  ‘Oh Luke, how exciting! I love unexpected presents!’

  He watched indulgently as she unwrapped the jacket and it tumbled out on to her lap, a kaleidoscope of sumptuous colour.

  ‘Oh!’ she breathed, holding it up to admire it. Then she looked at him and again there were tears in her eyes. ‘It’s absolutely beautiful! Wherever did you find it?’

  ‘That’s a secret.’

  She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. ‘I love it, I really do. Thank you, darling!’

  ‘Thought you would,’ he said, smugly. ‘And now . . .’ The cork popped, the foam spilled out in the time-honoured way, and they raised brimming glasses in a toast.

  ‘To the next generation!’
he said.

  TWENTY-THREE

  In the aftermath of the case there was a mountain of paperwork to deal with and Thanet and Lineham spent much of the following day glued to their desks. By 4.30 Thanet had had enough. ‘I’m going to look in at the hospital, see how Caroline’s doing.’

  Lineham nodded, grinned, and said, ‘OK, Grandad.’

  Thanet had been swamped with congratulations once the news got around and took the teasing in good part. ‘That’s enough of that, Mike!’

  ‘Are you going up to see Bridget tonight, sir?’

  ‘Try and stop me!’

  Lineham opened a drawer in his desk and took out a gaily wrapped parcel. ‘Would you give her this, with love from us both?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Thanet, touched. ‘But how did you manage to produce it so quickly?’

  ‘Had it in the drawer for a week or more,’ confessed Lineham with an uncharacteristically shy smile. ‘Louise said she’d played safe and chosen yellow.’

  ‘I’m sure Bridget will be delighted. Thank you, Mike. And tell Louise we really appreciate it.’

  ‘Louise went through much the same performance as Bridget herself, with Richard.’

  ‘I remember. I must say, it’s such a relief it’s all over.’

  ‘I know just how you feel.’

  Thanet drove to Sturrenden General and before leaving the car locked the parcel in the boot. The trouble with being a policeman was that you saw thieves and villains lurking behind every bush.

  The Sister recognised Thanet immediately. She had been on duty yesterday when Caroline was brought in.

  ‘How is she?’ he said.

  She pulled a face. ‘Put it this way: she’ll survive, no question of that, but as to whether she’ll ever completely recover . . . But it’s early days yet. We’ll just have to wait and see how she goes on. At the moment we’re trying to get some nourishment into her, but we have to be very careful, take it very slowly.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Her father was talking about moving her to a private hospital or taking her home and hiring nurses to look after her, but we advised against it, for the moment anyway, and he seems to have given up the idea.’

  ‘Is she talking at all?’

  ‘Just a few words. Most of the time she just lies there, staring into space.’

  ‘Has her sister seen her yet?’

  ‘Yes. She’s with her now, as a matter of fact. She’s been here all day, she and her father. We did try to prepare her, but she was terribly upset when she first saw Caroline, as you can imagine.’

  ‘Yes, I can.’ Thanet’s tone was grim. Rachel had a great deal to be upset about at the moment and he wondered how she was bearing up.

  ‘And that was after we’d cleaned her up. Honestly, Inspector, in all my years in the nursing profession I’ve never seen anything like the state she was in. I don’t think I shall ever forget it.’

  ‘I know. I don’t think any of us will.’

  ‘Anyway, as I say, she’s in no danger now and we’re doing all we can for her.’ The Sister’s eyes were straying to the paperwork awaiting her attention.

  Thanet took the hint. ‘I’m sure. May I see her?’

  ‘Of course.’ A nurse was called to take him to Caroline’s room. She was the only patient in a little side ward with two beds in it. She was lying flat on her back and Thanet suspected that she was asleep, as she didn’t move a muscle as he came in. He couldn’t be sure, though, as she was wearing dark glasses. Rachel and Mintar were sitting one on either side of her, holding her hands. They glanced up and smiled briefly at him as he came in. Thanet went to stand beside the bed and take a closer look at the patient.

  At least today Caroline was recognisable as a human being, he thought, even though she did look as though she were in the final stages of anorexia. She was so thin that her body scarcely mounded the bedclothes and the shape of her skull was clearly discernible. Her skin was unnaturally pale, with a greyish hue, and still pitted with dirt despite the cleansing processes to which she must have been subjected. Although they had not shaved her head as Thanet had feared they might, only scanty wisps of hair remained and alopecia, caused no doubt by prolonged malnutrition, disfigured her scalp. She was a truly pathetic figure and Thanet’s heart went out to her for the suffering she had undergone and the long, slow difficult road ahead of her, back to anything resembling normality.

  He sensed that Mintar was watching him but when he glanced up the barrister’s eyes fell away. Thanet guessed that he was still overwhelmed with remorse.

  Caroline must have woken up because her head turned slightly on the pillow. Her father leaned forward and said softly, ‘This is Inspector Thanet, Caro. He was the one who found you.’

  Her lips moved and they all strained to hear. ‘I know,’ she whispered. She released Rachel’s hand and opened hers to Thanet, raising one finger to beckon him closer.

  He clasped the little bundle of bones, conscious of their fragility, and leaned forward in response to the slight pressure he felt. When her fingers relaxed, he stopped, now close enough to see her eyes through the dark lenses. She was gazing up at him as if trying to memorise his features. Then her lips moved again and he turned his head slightly the better to hear what she was about to say.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. And her fingers tightened again upon his. ‘Thank you.’

  He smiled warmly at her, squeezed her hand and said, ‘Just get well again quickly.’

  He saw that slow tears had begun to slide down the sides of her cheeks and he released her hand, straightened up and glanced at Rachel, who reached for a tissue and dabbed them gently away.

  Although Rachel looked pale and strained, with dark circles beneath her eyes, she seemed to be coping well, Thanet thought. It was obvious that her concern for her adored sister was engaging all her emotional energy at present and perhaps having Caroline restored to her was at least in some measure consoling her for having in effect lost both mother and fiancé within the space of a few days.

  Mintar had risen. ‘We can never thank you enough,’ he said. His eyes, too, were full of tears.

  ‘No,’ said Rachel, chiming in.

  Thanet shook his head. He hadn’t come here for this. ‘I must go,’ he said. ‘I just wanted to check on her progress.’ And he escaped, to avoid further embarrassment.

  Later, on the way to London, loaded with gifts for Bridget and the baby, he told Joan about this little scene and said, ‘I’m not sure he’ll be quite so grateful when he fully realises the consequences of all this.’

  ‘When it’s all made public, you mean?’

  ‘Yes. Well, it’ll all have to come out in Court, won’t it? There’ll be two cases, not one, remember. Agon will be standing trial too. As for Marah . . . I can just imagine Mintar’s colleagues looking at her in the dock and thinking, how could he? It’ll all be a tremendous scandal in legal circles and I should think he can forget about a seat on the Bench, in the High or any other kind of Court.’

  ‘What will she be charged with?’

  ‘False imprisonment, almost certainly.’

  ‘And what sort of sentence will she get?’

  ‘Years, I imagine.’

  They were silent for a while and then Thanet said, ‘No, I’m being unjust. He’ll always be thankful we found her, no doubt about that. And who knows? Perhaps the fact that at last he is going to have to pay in personal terms for his lack of courage will alleviate just a little the shame and guilt which at the moment is eating him up. I think he’d got to the point where he couldn’t live with his conscience any longer. Remember how Mike and I found him trying to batter Marah’s door down in an attempt to discover what had happened to Caroline?’

  ‘Yes. You said all along you couldn’t understand why he hadn’t persisted in his efforts to trace her.’

  ‘I know. But once we learned Dick was his son, of course . . . Well, obviously, if he had managed to find her he’d have had to own up, not only to Ca
roline but to her mother, too. And I imagine that apart from anything else he just couldn’t face the possibility of losing Virginia.’

  ‘And he lost her in the end anyway. I was thinking, what you said last night . . . You really think she might still be alive if he’d had the guts to admit that Dick was his son when Caroline first started going out with him?’

  ‘I think it more than likely, yes.’ They had left the M20 for the M23 and were now approaching the link with the M25. Thanet fell silent as he fed into the stream of traffic in the nearside lane and it was a few minutes before he went on. ‘Everyone seems to agree that it was Caroline’s elopement that seemed to push Virginia over the edge. It was if she just cast aside those internal restraints we all live by. She’d always enjoyed shopping, for example, but now it became an obsession. Ditto with her exercising. She’d always been attractive to men and had affairs but according to what her sister told Arnold Prime, she now “couldn’t keep her hands off anything in trousers”, was the way Jane apparently put it. She even eventually broke one of her own last taboos and had an affair with a much younger man. And it was this, finally, that was her undoing.’

  Ever since his confession and against his solicitor’s advice, Matt Agon hadn’t stopped trying to justify himself. Apparently Virginia’s spell had bound him fast and for the first time in his life he had proposed marriage, begging her to leave her husband. She had simply laughed at him and, consistent in this respect at least, had at once broken off their relationship.