by K Leitch
‘Well,’ Frank said as they pulled away from the house. ‘I would say that we definitely need to speak to Jacob Gattoré for starters…sounds like he has or at least had a definite motive.’
‘Hmm,’ Carla said, ‘it might be an idea to try and find this Una Flannery as well, see what she’s got to say about what happened to Missy Gattoré. Oh my God Frank I thought those sort of prejudices were a thing of the past, I don’t know how I kept my temper in there listening to that bigoted old cow talk about coloureds and darkies like they were some lower form of life…’
‘I know,’ Frank said smiling at her, ‘I could almost see the steam coming out of your ears, I was sure you were going to blow any minute. It was like watching the incredible hulk just before his shirt and pants fall off and he starts rampaging around the place in his undies,’ he finished laughing at her.
Carla laughed and stuck two fingers up at him. ‘Although that Jonas Silco sounds like a right creep doesn’t he?’ she said a moment later. ‘I’m afraid I don’t share Imogen’s conviction of his innocence in all this. Maybe if there had been just one, but two girls accusing him of assault and rape? I’d bet my house on him being guilty as hell. So we have at least two women that might have had good reason to want Jonas Silco dead, not forgetting Jacob Gattoré…but why Albie Wiseman? Unless he was in on it as well….’
‘Let’s try and track down this Una Flannery,’ Frank said as they pulled into the station car park. ‘I’ve got a feeling she might be key to this whole mystery.’
CHAPTER 42 - TRACY
‘Well actually I felt a bit bad if you must know,’ Tracy was saying to Juno, as they busily folded hundreds of consent forms that needed to be given, one to each child, to take home later that day. ‘I mean, I suppose it might make anyone a bit introverted if you spend your life looking after a relative mustn’t it?’
‘Well if they are badly disabled yes,’ said Juno. ‘But I thought you said this chap’s deaf? I mean far be it that I should trivialize his disabilities Tracy, but surely he can look after himself? I mean how old is he…forty five, fifty? It still seems a bit odd if you ask me.’
Tracy nodded, ‘And actually that still doesn’t give her the right to be so bloody moody. I mean did you see the way she glared at little Millie Boisvert this morning? For crying out loud all she did was drop her books, anyone would have thought she’d committed some sort of crime, she nearly made her cry, rotten old cow.’
‘Shhh, here she comes,’ Juno whispered hurriedly, as the headmistresses door opened and Rebecca Sheenan came out followed by Shauna Gerrety, the headmistress.
‘That’s fine Rebecca I completely understand, of course you must be with your brother at this time. Hope all goes well, we’ll see you when you get back.’
‘Thank you Shauna,’ Rebecca said shaking her hand. She gave Tracy and Juno a cool smile before walking out of the building.
‘Juno, can you get on to the council and find out who is going to be manning the mobile library while Rebecca is away? I’ll need to know, she’s going to be away for at least two weeks,’ Miss Gerrety said as she picked up her mail from Juno’s desk.
‘Of course,’ said Juno sharing a look with Tracy. ‘Is she going on holiday then?’ she asked bravely earning herself a disapproving stare from Ms Gerrety.
‘Well not that it’s anybody’s business,’ Ms Gerrety began, ‘but it seems her brother is having an operation and she need to be there to look after him, which I’m sure you’ll agree is a very kind gesture.’
‘Oh yes,’ gushed Juno and Tracy together, ‘very kind.’
Ms Gerrety raised her eyebrows at them and retreated back into her room.
‘See,’ said Tracy, ‘she obviously has to be on hand for him at all times…maybe it’s more than just deafness, maybe he has some mental issues. I saw him in the pub the other evening and I have to say he didn’t look quite normal, you know sometimes you can just tell by looking can’t you…what?’ Tracy broke off as Juno was widening her eyes and gesturing behind her, Tracy swung round in her seat to find Rebecca standing behind her obviously having heard every word that she had said.
‘Actually,’ she said to a red faced Tracy furiously, ‘He is just deaf, not mental or slow or spastic or retarded, and I’ll thank you to keep your nasty comments to yourself.’ And with that she flounced over to where she had left her coat earlier grabbed it and stormed out of the office, leaving Tracy and Juno feeling small and silly.
‘Oh bugger, bloody buggerations,’ said Tracy mortified. ‘Now I’m going to have to apologise next time I see her…bloody hell!’
Juno giggled, ‘I did try and warn you…you should have seen her face, I’m not kidding Trace if looks could have killed, you’d be six foot under…wow she was angry.’
Tracy had the grace to look shamefaced, ‘Well I don’t blame her really, if anyone had spoken about a member of my family like that I’d be pretty miffed too. It’s just that she’s such an obnoxious cow…but that doesn’t give me the right to slag off her brother I suppose, bloody hell I don’t even know the man…oh God what a prat I am.’ Tracy put her head in her hands.
‘Well maybe you can make it up to her sooner than you thought,’ Juno said picking something up from the floor and handing it to Tracy. ‘This must have fallen out of her coat pocket when she grabbed it…looks like a book of some sort, a diary maybe.’ She handed it to Tracy.
Tracy took the little book and looked it over. It did appear to be a diary of some sort, and it looked pretty old, the pages were slightly yellowed at the edges, but it didn’t seem to have any date on it. Tracy turned to the inside cover, there was an inscription.
THIS DIARY BELONGS TO UNA FLANNERY… AGED 15
‘Oh my God,’ said Tracy as she flicked through the pages. ‘Oh this is fascinating Juno…it’s the diary of a young girl, listen to this.
…today was laundry day which was hard work, but at least Silco’s not around on Mondays. Missy and I shared a cake with our tea once we had done; we sat outside until Mrs Cray caught us and walloped Missy for being a lazy cow…’
‘Oh this is wonderful, I wonder who this Una girl is…I wonder how Rebecca knows her?’ Tracy gushed.
‘Well who ever she is, you’d better get that back to Rebecca ASAP Tracy, before she accuses us of stealing it or something,’ Juno said in her matter of fact way.
‘Ah,’ Tracy sighed, ‘what a shame I would have loved to have read more of it, I wonder if she might lend it to me, what do you think?’
‘Ha! And pigs might fly…after what you just said about her brother, you’ve got no chance,’ Juno chortled.
Tracy gave her an inscrutable look, ‘Well, we shall see my little doubting Thomas, I can be very sweet and charming when I want to be…watch this space.’ With that Tracy ran out of the school to where the Mobile library had been parked, only to find that Rebecca had driven off in it a few minutes earlier.
‘Oh dear,’ thought Tracy with a smug smile on her face as she tucked the little book into her pocket. ‘Looks like I’ll have to give it back to her some other time.’
CHAPTER 43 - HELEN
‘Ok can all of you that have already got your costumes wait at the rear of the seating area?’ Helen shouted over the hubbub of voices in the little theatre. ‘That way we can see who’s still to be dressed.’
The crowd parted slowly and Helen started going through the rows trying to match each character with their corresponding costume.
This should have been Andrea’s job, but she had been laid up with a bad head apparently and poor Imogen, understandably, was nowhere to be seen. So it had fallen to Helen to try and organise the cast fittings. The dress rehearsal was only a couple of weeks away and so it was imperative that this at least was sorted.
Helen was still amazed that Imogen was so determined to carry on with the play.
‘It’s what Albie would have wanted,’ she said to anybody that queried her decision, ‘he knew how much these productions meant to me.’
Helen wasn’t completely convinced. She had never once seen Albie at any of the rehearsals or the planning meetings; in fact she didn’t think he had even been in the country for much of the earlier rehearsals. Helen thought it was more likely that Imogen just couldn’t bear the thought of giving up on the play. Which when all was said and done was absolutely fine, Helen for one, would not begrudge her a day of glory after all she’d been through.
Maggie had said that she would come and lend a hand and sure enough she turned up an hour or so later, bringing with her some of her old cast off dresses in case they might be of some use.
‘Oh darling you are an angel,’ Helen said as soon as she clapped eyes on her. ‘And these are fabulous,’ she added as she rummaged through the bag of clothes. ‘Oh this would be perfect for Mrs Page…are you sure you don’t want it though…it’s gorgeous,’ she said holding up a lovely blue silk dress in a very 1930’s design.
‘Oh God no,’ laughed Maggie, ‘that’s ancient. I think I bought it to go to some function with Greg…yuk, ghastly,’ she finished.
‘Oh and this little tweed suit is perfect…I don’t know for who yet but I’ll think of someone,’ Helen finished vaguely.
Word had got out amongst the actors, that Maggie had arrived with a bag full of designer cast offs and so very quickly a little group of gimlet eyed women had formed around them, each trying to grab themselves a free Vera Wang or Stella McCartney. Helen spent the next half an hour handing out designer clothes, rather like the army handing out food parcels to the poor in Africa.
The play, despite all the off stage drama, was in fact going rather well. The main lead characters had all learnt their lines beautifully, even Maylee who Helen had been very dubious about. The sets and backdrops that Rosie and Helen had made were looking great as well and Helen had every expectation that it would be a performance to remember.
Most people that had wanted a part had got one, thanks to Andrea creating quite a few new characters and even the aforementioned Alf Henshaw had come into his own as a rather dodgy police informant. He’d had them all in stitches the day before when he’d tried to give DI Frank Johnstone the slip, shuffling off stage behind his walking frame.
The only thing that was putting a bit of a damper on Helen’s enjoyment of the play was that she had heard nothing more from Livy Bray about how the hunt for Mark Stevens was progressing. The last thing Livy had told her was that she was following the trail from Aberdeen where the family had lived for a few years, to the little village of Dollar just outside Stirling; it seemed that Mark may have been working as a teacher at the rather prestigious school there. Helen was getting worried, there were only a few weeks before the Brampton Hall festival and she had so hoped that the author would have been able to put in an appearance.
Once the costumes had been sorted, and a few ruffled feathers had been smoothed over (namely Harriet Smits and Audrey Gloop who had both had their eye on a sexy little black sequined number, totally unsuitable, as one was playing a WPC and the other a toilet attendant), Helen called the main players in the cast to run through a couple of scenes.
‘Mrs Grange,’ Inspector Johnstone (Luke Wiseman) began walking back and forth across the stage in an important way as he questioned the poor unfortunate Mrs Grange. ‘I understand that you had an argument with the deceased the night before she was found killed.’ He stopped pacing and looked Mrs Grange in the eye before saying dramatically, ‘Can you tell me what it was about?’
Mrs Grange (Hilda Greeb) was shaking her head and trembling with nerves, ‘I…um…I…it was a private matter…nothing to do with her death I assure you…’
‘Oh you assure me do you? Well that’s all right then,’ the Inspector boomed looking at the audience and shaking his head in disbelief. He turned suddenly once more fixing his stare on the hapless Mrs Grange. ‘Now look here, this is a murder investigation Mrs Page and…’
‘GRANGE, Luke…it’s Grange not Page, Mrs Page died in scene three…remember?’ shouted Imogen who had just arrived to watch the scene. ‘What is wrong with you…we only have a couple of weeks to go before you have to perform in front of an audience, so stop messing about and start focusing for crying out loud!’ She finished in uncharacteristic irritation.
Luke didn’t bother answering his mother; just furiously flounced off the stage and stormed off in the direction of the house.
‘Oh damn,’ said Imogen sitting down next to Helen, ‘I suppose I’ve upset him now haven’t I? But he is driving me mad Helen, he just isn’t taking it seriously…seems to be far too preoccupied with his co-star, which I can tell you is not what I had in mind for him,’ she finished under her breath.
Helen put a hand on Imogen’s arm, ‘It must be hard for him Imogen,’ she began, ‘I mean he has just lost his father and…’
Imogen turned on Helen angrily, ‘And I’ve just lost my husband, but you don’t see me shirking my responsibilities or running after the first thing in trousers do you? No I’m sorry Helen but the boy has always lacked direction, if only he’d been more like his brother. David’s always so conscientious and he’s been such a help to me since it happened. I really don’t know how I would have coped without him.’
‘Will he be staying in England long?’ Helen asked, not knowing what else to say.
‘Well at least till after the funeral,’ Imogen said with a fond smile. ‘His wife Millicent and their two children will be here next week, I am hoping the police will have finished with Albie and we will be able to bury him by then,’ she finished pulling out a little scrap of lace and dabbing her eyes.
Helen squeezed her hand, ‘You will be so glad to have it all over and done with I’m sure,’ she said.
‘Well yes I suppose so,’ Imogen replied vaguely, ‘the worst of it is that it might clash with the Brampton Hall festival. I had assumed it would have been done and dusted by now, I can’t think what’s taking them so long I mean surely they must have worked out what killed him by now.’
Helen couldn’t think what to say to that either, Imogen seemed so much more bothered about the play than the death of her husband; she shared a look with Maggie.
‘Must be such a comfort though, knowing you’ll have your family around you,’ she said.
Imogen sniffed, ‘Well yes, and it will be lovely to see the girls, my granddaughters Pammy and Paula, such gorgeous girls both of them…’
‘And will your daughter-in-law be helping you with the funeral arrangements?’ Maggie put in.
‘Ha!’ Imogen snorted, ‘I doubt whether Millicent could arrange a knees up in a brewery as they say. Oh she’s nice enough I suppose, but David could have done so much better…still she’s bringing the girls so it’s not all bad…Oh what is that stupid fool doing!’ she broke off as one of the gardeners that had been drafted in to cut back the shrubs around the theatre, started hacking at her prize rose trees.
‘Stop that at once!’ she shouted marching over to him, ‘What do you think you’re doing, these roses have already been pruned, do you want to kill them?’
Helen and Maggie watched with raised eyebrows as she ordered the man (who in fact turned out to be a woman) back over to the other bed where the shrubs were. The woman seemed quite unrepentant and in fact glowered unseen at Imogen’s back, as Imogen walked back to where they were sitting.
‘I have no idea what Mr Flood is thinking, allowing people like that with no experience, anywhere near my roses, I shall be having strong words with him I can tell you,’ she said as she sat back down.
Helen didn’t doubt it, and whatever ‘strong words’ she’d already had with the woman gardener had obviously hit a nerve, the woman spent the rest of the afternoon giving Imogen filthy looks.
The rehearsals progressed without a hitch after that, Helen and Maggie watched proudly as Rosie performed beautifully as Julie Houseman, the first victim in the play, there was hardly a dry eye in the house after her death scene.
‘Oh well done Rosie,’ Helen said as sh
e rushed down excitedly after her scene, ‘you are going to steal the show.’
Maylee was surprisingly good as Lucinda Lovett, she had good natural comedy timing and unfortunately for Maggie’s temper, there was rather a lot of sexual chemistry between her and Luke Wiseman who had finally been persuaded to come back and finish his rehearsal. The air positively crackled with it during the final scene, which only convinced Maggie even more that poor Dom was being made a fool of.
What was worse than that was that immediately after the rehearsals had finished, neither one of them were anywhere to be found, and Maggie eventually drove home without her, muttering angrily under her breath all the way. She was furious with the girl, but she was more scared for her gentle Dom, who could be hurt so easily. As it happened she was beginning to think that Dom might be getting suspicious already, he had been so distant and quiet lately. She’d asked him a couple of times if he was OK and he had just smiled and said he was fine, but she wasn’t convinced…she knew her son and he was hurting. Maggie’s fingers turned into claws as she thought about Maylee and all the damage that she had done and was still doing to her precious family. Her time would come and there would be no way back this time for that scheming, two timing little trollop, of that Maggie was determined.
Helen wearily made her own way home a few hours later. She’d be glad when the play was over, even though for the most part it had been fun, she couldn’t wait to go away with her family and unwind. Halfway home she received a text message from Livy, she had found Mark Stevens!
CHAPTER 44 - CARLA
‘Right, Jacob Gattoré, what have we got Mandy?’ Carla asked as once again the team gathered in the briefing room.
‘Well apart from a record as long as your arm,’ Mandy said pursing her lips. ‘He is the eldest son of Rufus and Grace Gattoré. They arrived from Trinidad in the fifties, settled in Liverpool. He worked in a shipbuilder’s yard on and off, mainly off. They had six children, five girls and Jacob, Missy Gattoré was their third child. She was sent out to work when she was fifteen, answered an ad for a kitchen maid at the Linden hotel…’
