by Carrie Marsh
Janet gave her a frown. “I don't think so...” she paused. “I don't actually remember what happened. I think it just sort of...went away. It was never brought to trial, as far as I remember. Maybe it was just all made up,” she sighed. “You never know.”
“It just went away?” Laura asked carefully.
“Yeah,” Janet shrugged. “For a few days everyone was talking about it and then it just sort of...fizzled. People lost interest, I guess. Probably it was tried and just no-one took any notice. But I don't think it went to court.” She frowned. “Anyhow. Do you like your drink? These are the best ones,” she said contentedly.
“I do like it,” Laura agreed, frowning. She felt cold all over. The more she found out about it, the more she thought that she and Howard were right. The case simply going away just confirmed it. Someone had probably been paid off to make it disappear. But who?
“Were the Hugh family always rich?” Laura asked conversationally.
“No, I don't think so,” Janet frowned. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Laura said easily. “Only that we were talking about rich people, and it kind of surprised me that they seem to have done rather well.”
Janet laughed. “Well, someone has to do well out of taxes, I suppose,” she said lightly. “The rest of us don't like them much!”
Laura nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. If the Hugh family suddenly came into money the instant the tax-evasion trial “just went away”, she thought she had a fair idea of where the money came from. And how the scandal had gone away.
She looked at her watch. It was six o' clock. She was sure Howard was back. She had so much to talk to him about when they met.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
MAKING A PLAN
MAKING A PLAN
Laura's kitchen was dark. She and Howard sat opposite each other, talking in low voices.
“...and yes, it is the only company in England where you can buy such things,” Howard confirmed. He sounded exhausted. Laura reached for his coffee-cup and filled it, filling her own at the same time.
“So that confirms it,” Laura agreed. She also sounded tired. It was seven o' clock, but she felt as if it were after midnight, everything swimming before her tired eyes.
“Yes,” Howard agreed. He breathed out raggedly. “We can definitely trace the weapon back to him. We just don't have a way of showing why.”
Laura nodded. “I also found out something,” she began.
“Yes?” Howard asked, instantly alert.
“I think I have the “why” part. Janet remembers the case, but not the trial. Apparently, at least as far as everyone remembers, there never was one.”
Howard stared at Laura, who felt her own heart beat faster.
“So...” he breathed.
“So,” Laura expanded, “I think the case just “went away”, because someone was paid to make it go away. Someone in the tax office.”
“Someone like Albert Hugh,” Howard finished.
In the darkness of the kitchen they stared at each other. Laura nodded.
“Heck,” Howard whistled.
Laura nodded.
They had the means. They had the motive. Now they just had to prove it.
Monty appeared in the kitchen and Laura leaped to her feet. “Sorry, Monty!” she said aloud. “I forgot it was your supper time.”
Past time, really, Monty said pedantically. But never mind. I suppose you had a reason for being distracted. He sniffed and looked at Howard. Laura laughed.
“Here you go,” she said, producing a bowl of fish from the refrigerator. “I'll just let this warm up a little and then it's yours. Better?”
Howard chuckled as Laura fed Monty, who waited at the radiator until the fish was a little warmer, and then came to eat it.
“You'd think the little chap understood every word,” Howard grinned appreciatively.
“He does,” Laura said, smiling. Howard smiled back. If he assumed she was joking, Laura couldn't tell. But she knew.
With Monty fed, Laura and Howard decided to assemble their own supper from what was left of the Sunday roast. While they did so, they discussed their plans for the case.
“...we need to catch him out somehow,” Howard said, cutting up a carrot as he talked.
“Indeed,” Laura agreed, running water into a pot in which they could make a stew. “But how? We can't exactly go and demand he shows us his tax-returns, now can we?” Laura asked. “We don't work for the tax-office or the police. So we don't have the right to do it.”
“Agreed,” Howard said thoughtfully. “We could ask Stanton to do it for us, but we'd probably have a hard job convincing him. And besides, I'm not sure if he would want to help us out anymore.”
“Why?” Laura asked.
“He's suspended.”
Laura stared at him. “Why?”
Howard looked away. “I think someone found out he helped you,” he said quietly.
“What?” Laura exploded. “But there was only one way they could have known!”
Howard stared at her. “How?” Then he realised too.
“The paper...” they said.
Laura shook her head. “Now I know who broke into my house!”
It was the horrible police officer after all.
She described him carefully to Howard, who frowned and then nodded.
“I know him,” he said after a moment. “His name is Nigel Parkhurst. Nasty character if I ever saw one. He's been angling for a promotion for years now.”
“Really?” Laura asked.
“He wants to take over after Browne, but he's got a long way to go,” he said, chuckling. “And Henry is a much better character. He was all lined up for a promotion, before that guy threw him out of the running.”
“Oh?” Laura covered her mouth with her hand. “Poor Peter!”
“Quite,” Howard nodded. “I'm rather fond of Peter. When he started going deaf I sent him up to Canterbury for tests. Saved his hearing.”
“Oh,” Laura said, nodding. That explained why Peter was so devoted to Howard, anyhow.
“Yeah,” Howard nodded. “He shouldn't take it so seriously, though. I mean, it is my job.”
Laura smiled and took his hand. “No-one said you had to do it properly.”
Howard snorted a laugh.
“At least we can help Peter,” Laura said after a moment. “I mean, if he was suspended for that, there's only one way someone knew about it – they entered my house illegally.”
“They are police,” Howard cautioned, holding up a steadying hand. “I'm not sure about the regulations...”
“They didn't have a search warrant,” Laura said icily, and Howard laughed.
“You're tough, you know that?”
Laura's eyes sparkled. “I shall take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant as one,” Howard said gently.
They kissed.
Monty finished his supper and left the room, and Howard and Laura put their stew on to heat.
They had to go to bed early, because they had a lot to do the next day. They had a murderer to apprehend. They just hadn't decided how.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
A TEATIME TREAT
A TEATIME TREAT
Laura walked into work the next morning feeling wrecked. She had gone to bed early, but had not slept until one a.m. She sat down heavily at her desk, feeling as if she was aching all over.
“Laura!”
Janet appeared above her, a huge smile on her face, radiating excitement. “You'll never guess what?”
“No,” Laura said tiredly, “I won't. Tell me?”
Janet blinked, then seemed to decide to forgive Laura her lack of enthusiasm. “I just heard from Imogen!” she said excitedly. “She's staying on a farm about ten miles away and she's invited me to join her for afternoon tea! Isn't that incredible?”
Laura nodded. “That is pretty amazing, Jay,” she agreed. “Are you going?”
“Are you se
rious?” Janet said, smiling. “Of course I am!”
Laura drew in a breath. Talking to the actress would give Janet the ideal opportunity to ask her some questions. If anyone knew about Morrison's court cases and other business, it would surely be her, Laura thought.
“Jay?” Laura asked hesitantly.
“Yes?”
“Do you think you could ask Imogen a question for me?”
“I could,” Janet agreed. “But I have a better idea! Why don't you come too?”
Laura blinked. “Could I?”
“I don't see why not,” Janet retorted. “I can at least ask her, right?”
Laura nodded. “Thank you, Jay,” she said slowly. “That would be huge.”
“Don't mention it,” Janet agreed. She typed a message into her phone and the two of them talked while she waited for a reply. After a few minutes her phone made its message-tone.
“What did she say?” Laura asked, holding her breath.
“Yes!” Janet said triumphantly.
Laura grinned. “Thanks, Jay.”
“As I said, don't mention it. Now, we'll have to ask Bethany to keep an eye out for us at the desk for a few hours – she does owe me a favour, since I wangled her time off last weekend...” Janet sighed.
“Perfect!” Laura said happily.
“...And then you'll have to help me decide what to wear!” Janet continued blithely. “I had thought the green tunic with the black slacks, or perhaps the cerise..? We'll have to drop past my apartment on the way and change into some new clothes! I'm not visiting the most glamorous woman in Kent wearing my working uniform.”
Laura laughed at Janet, who grinned back naughtily. They had a few hours and lunch service, and then they were off, heading to their own adventure.
The rolling hills were green under the sunshine as Laura and Janet headed out towards the farm where Imogen was staying.
Janet, behind the wheel, was dressed in her black slacks and a cerise blouse, her red hair elegantly rolled and held back with hairpins. Laura was wearing a dress she had borrowed from Janet – a pale blue one with a boat-neck and knee-length skirt. It was exactly the same colour as her eyes, and made from a soft fabric.
“Whee!” Janet yelled as they headed downhill in the Mazda. Laura laughed. She was caught up in the general excitement and it was so easy to just forget that she was on her way to investigate a murder.
They reached the farm after twenty minutes, pulling up at the gateway. It had elegant wrought-iron gates and the sign on the side of them boasted: “Amersham Hill”.
Janet jumped out and opened the gate and together they drove into the farm.
Ten minutes later, Laura, Janet and Imogen were seated on a terrace behind an elegant Victorian-style house, with thatched roof and brick walls and diamond panes. Laura felt as if she had been whisked onto a film-set, the illusion made all the greater by the presence of an actress in front of her.
“...and it's so nice you could both join me here for tea,” Imogen was finishing. She was wearing a chocolate-brown dress a shade darker than her vibrant curls, the style an elegant vintage style with a boat neck and a pencil skirt. Laura sighed. She was so terribly glamorous, with arched eyebrows and her hair shining.
“We were excited about it,” Janet gushed. “It's so nice to be able to see you again!”
Imogen smiled, and Laura decided she didn't dislike the woman as much as she thought she did. They chatted and the tea arrived – extremely elegant as well, in china cups that looked antique, poured from a silver teapot that Laura was certain was the real thing. Tea was served with scones and jam and Laura found herself relaxing. The woman was an easy conversationalist, and it was easy to forget that she and Janet were not simply visiting a mutual friend.
“...and Anthony will be staying here too, when he returns from business in Canterbury,” Imogen explained, as Janet asked her a question about the farmhouse lodging.
“Anthony?” Laura asked. “He isn't staying at his own mansion?” Her ears pricked up at once at the mention of her suspect.
“No,” Imogen said, giving her a bit of an odd look. “I asked him to stay with me. It's more private,” she added. Laura nodded.
“I can imagine,” she agreed. It did make sense – if the two were known to be together at his home, the local press would hear of it and probably not give them a moment's peace. “So you stayed together in the hotel as well?” she asked conversationally.
“For a bit,” Imogen agreed, reaching for the elegant silver milk-jug. “In fact, he was supposed to be there a day earlier, but he was suddenly called away,” she said, frowning.
“He was?” Laura asked. She suddenly found it difficult to breathe.
“Yes,” Imogen explained, still looking as if she was slightly cross about the whole thing. “He was supposed to be there a day before I arrived, and so when I heard about his delay, I delayed too. So we didn't arrive together. But it was odd,” she said. “He never did tell me why he had to go away. And then he arrived so soon the next morning, as if he were right nearby all the time. Oh, well,” she added. “He doesn't need to tell me everything about his business. It would probably bore me if he did! All stocks and shares and things,” she added, shrugging elegantly.
“I'm sure!” Janet chuckled. “That stuff's boring at the best of times. For a big company like that, it must be super-boring.”
Imogen laughed. “I suppose,” she added. “The only bit he discusses with me are bikes. He loves them. It's an interest we share,” she added, smiling at some memory. “It's how we met, actually.”
“Biking?”
“Yes,” she said, taking a bite of scone.
Laura listened as she and Janet chatted about her memories and intentions, but she felt ill. She didn't want to stay any longer. She didn't want to talk. She just wanted to get home and tell Howard what she had found out. It was the last piece in the puzzle.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
FINAL ARRANGEMENT
FINAL ARRANGEMENT
That evening, Howard came to visit. He brought supper and he and Laura sat in the kitchen eating it while they talked about what they had found out.
“...so she still doesn't know where he was?” he asked.
“No,” Laura confirmed. She reached for salt for her chips, and took a drink of water to ease her throat. “She knows he must have been around, close by, though – apparently he arrived early the next morning, as if he hadn't been anywhere at all.”
The two of them exchanged a look. “I'm sure he did,” Howard said sadly.
They sat there together, both lost in the thought of what it must be like to murder someone and then show up the next day as if nothing had happened. The ruthlessness involved in that, the level of dehumanisation of others.
Laura shuddered. “He must be a frightening man.”
“I think he is,” Howard agreed.
“I'm not sorry, then, that Imogen won't be stuck with him,” Laura said feelingly.
They sat in silence a while.
“I think this might just work.”
Laura nodded. They had discussed their plan at length, figuring out a way to prove their theory. Howard ran a hand through his hair.
“I don't like it, you know that.”
“I know,” Laura said. “But you have to trust me.”
“I know,” Howard said, touching her hand gently. “I do trust you. I just don't trust anyone else in the world where you're concerned.”
Laura laughed, but felt tears fill her eyes. She felt so loved whenever Howard was around. She lifted his hand and kissed it, lightly.
“My dear,” she said feelingly, “I am pleased to know you.”
Howard swallowed. “You have no idea how pleased I am to know you,” he said. “But if we're planning to drive to Canterbury, I suppose we should go to bed around now.”
“To bed?” Laura asked, giving him a mischievous grin.
“To bed, yes,” Howard agreed gravely. “Not to sleep. Not n
ecessarily.”
The two of them both laughed. On the eve of their most dangerous plan yet, their lovemaking had a gentle urgency, a bittersweetness that made Laura's heart ache.
Eventually, a few hours before dawn, they slept.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
DANGER
DANGER
The light shone on green lawns and elegant buildings, a gravel drive sweeping under the wheels towards the door when Laura and Howard arrived at the hotel in Canterbury. They walked up the steps together, Howard carrying his luggage in a shoulder-bag, Laura trailing her small blue suitcase behind.
“Doctor and Mrs Lucas?” the man said pompously.
“Yes,” Howard said baldly. Laura squeezed his hand and stared up at him. The muscle in his jaw jumped, meaning he was suppressing a smile or a laugh.
He signed them in straight-faced and they headed up the stairs towards their bedroom.
At the bedroom, Laura sighed and collapsed on the double bed. It was a luxurious, lovely place. She would have been so happy, if it were not for the task that loomed over their heads all the trip.
“...so you think he'll bite?” Laura asked after a moment, as Howard opened the curtains and checked his phone.
“I know he will,” Howard said certainly. “I've never known you be wrong.”
Laura sighed. “I hope I'm right. Or at best we'll look silly.”
“I hope we're not right,” Howard said grimly. He didn't finish, but Laura knew what he meant. If we're right, we could be killed.
She didn't say anything, but squeezed his hand.
“Okay,” Howard said after a long moment, “I propose some sightseeing. We have a whole free day and it's not every day we go out together. Whadd'ya say, Mrs Lucas?”
Laura gaped at him, and laughed. “Mrs Lucas! What did you tell him?”
“I didn't say anything at all,” Howard said silkily as they walked out of the door together, arm in arm. “I just didn't correct him.”
