Watermark

by E. J. Kay

  They heard the front door of the house open and, through the wrought iron gate, saw Luke Thackray walking down the steps to the front wall.

  “Here we go,” whispered Robson.

  The bolt was drawn from behind the wooden gate and Thackray peered round it. “Yes?”

  Kelly was impatient, and it showed. “Could we come in, please? We need to talk to you.”

  He moved back as Kelly pushed the gate and stepped through the gateway, followed closely by Robson. Wordlessly, he turned and motioned them up the garden path to the front door of the house then closed and re-barred the gate. They carried on through the front door and back to the parlour they had been in on their visit the previous week. They sat down as Thackray followed them in. He stood by the empty fireplace.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  Kelly leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. “Some further information has come to light regarding Alec Whickham’s death. I’ll come straight to the point. Are you related to a Professor Juliet Bailey?”

  Thackray looked somewhat taken aback. “Well, yes. But what’s that got to do with anything?”

  “What’s the nature of your relationship? And why didn’t you tell us the last time we interviewed you?”

  “Juliet is my niece. I knew you’d arrested her on suspicion of being involved in Whickham’s death, but that’s completely ludicrous and I’m sure you’ll find that she had nothing to do with it. She hasn’t actually been charged, has she?”

  Kelly shook her head.

  Thackray looked vaguely amused. “Exactly. Actually, I see very little of Juliet. We have ...” He paused. “... very different views of the world. So, I repeat, I didn’t know Alec Whickham. I never met him.” Thackray looked increasingly in control. He leaned on the mantelpiece.

  “You have to admit that there’s an increasing number of coincidences,” answered Kelly, now feeling less confident and beginning to flounder. “First we have the coincidence of your ID being logged onto one of the computers in the lab from where the blog comments were sent. Now the coincidence of Juliet Bailey being your niece, and her card was used to access the lab where Alec Whickham died.”

  Thackray remained unruffled. “I cannot explain the first, and the second is of no relevance. It is, as you say, a coincidence.”

  Kelly didn’t know how to reply. She was sure that there was some important connection between Bailey, Thackray and Whickham’s murder, but was now beginning to feel that she was on a badly thought-out fishing trip and Thackray knew it. Oh God, I should have stopped to think for longer before rushing here. I need to get my thoughts back into some kind of order. What is it about this man that makes me lose my cool?

  Robson came to the rescue. “You’re Professor Bailey’s Uncle? You don’t look much older than her.” God bless you Jack, thought Kelly.

  Thackray was quiet for a moment, looking as if he were trying to make up his mind about something. He appeared to decide. “Excuse me a minute while I just go and get something.” He left the room and walked down the hallway. They heard him climb the stairs and walk into the room directly above them.

  “What’s all this about, do you think?” asked Robson.

  “I’ve no idea,” replied Kelly, with a heavy sigh. “Oh,” she smiled, “and thanks, Jack.”

  He smiled back with feigned surprise. “What for?”

  Enough said.

  They heard Thackray walk back across the floor and down the stairs. He appeared in the lounge doorway carrying an ornately carved wooden box about eighteen inches square and twelve inches deep. He set it down on the coffee table between himself and the two police officers and sat back in the armchair again.

  “What’s this?” asked Kelly, with a slight hint of irritation in her voice. She’d come here to get evidence that would help to nail Alec Whickham’s murder on Thackray and she wasn’t doing a very good job of it. It made her unkindly disposed to any distractions.

  He put his hands on the lid of the box, palms down. “This is the Thackray family history. Well, more correctly, what I’ve been able to find of it.” He slid his hands around the edges of the lid and opened it, revealing sets of neatly tied papers, documents and envelopes. “I’ve always had an interest in genealogy, and my family seems to have had more than its fair share of hoarders. So, I’ve been able to piece together quite a bit of our family tree. Here it is.” He took a couple of papers from the top of the box and handed them to Kelly and Robson. Each showed the same

  copy of a branched diagram.

  “As you can see, there is only nine years between Juliet and myself. She is the eldest child of my eldest brother, Matthew.”

  “Ah, yes,” said Kelly. She scanned back up the tree. “You certainly go in for large families.”

  A strange look passed over Thackray’s face; a mix of pleasure and apprehension. “Does anything else strike you?” he asked.

  They both looked back at the diagram, but Kelly was still too agitated to concentrate on it. “I really don’t have the time to play games, Doctor Thackray. If there’s something important here, just say it.”

  Robson leaned forward. “What sex was the first child of Juliet and Jeremiah? The one that died at three days old?”

  Kelly looked at him in astonishment. “What?”

  Thackray’s eyes lit up and he sat on the edge of his chair. “Ah, yes, you’ve seen it Sergeant. That’s exactly the question. Jeremiah was English, but Juliet was from America and they married there. They came to settle in England about a year later, but no one even knew about the existence of the lost child until I found this letter.” He pulled out a pack of envelopes, tied with a red ribbon. He took one of the envelopes out of the pack, extracted a letter and handed it to Robson. “Let alone its sex.” Despite herself, Kelly was becoming intrigued; she read the letter over his shoulder.

  Sumterville

  South Carolina

  13th April 1907

  My Dearest Sister,

  I am so very sorry to hear your sad news. To lose a child is the most tragic thing in this world. Even though your boy was only with you for three days, you and Jeremiah will be mourning the loss of your baby no less than for a child you had come to know.

  My thoughts are with you always, my dearest.

  May God go with you,

  Your loving sister,

  Mathilda

  “Ah, right,” said Robson. “So you are, then.”

  Thackray nodded and fluffed up with pride.

  This was a new experience for Kelly. Usually she was way ahead of Jack Robson and waiting for him to catch up. Now she began to understand how he felt, and it wasn’t nice. Why couldn’t she see anything? Was she getting too carried away with her zeal for pinning Whickham’s murder on Thackray? There was certainly something about the man that engendered a feeling of dislike.

  “OK, can someone please tell me what’s going on?” asked Kelly in exasperation.

  Thackray looked at Kelly with a mixture of disdain and condescension. “I am the seventh son of a seventh son. Magickal. With a ‘k’. Truly mystical. Not the stuff of cheap tricks.”

  Kelly looked back at the family tree with a sinking feeling. “Ah, I see.” Damn him! He’s mad. I’ll never get anything to stick to him now.

  Thackray looked across at Robson as though Kelly were no longer there. “You know what is written about seventh sons, Sergeant?”

  Robson looked a little awkward. “I just know about Johnny Thunder,” he mumbled.

  Thackray and Kelly both looked baffled. “Who?” asked Kelly.

  “A DC Comics hero in the 1940s. He was one of the Justice Society. You know, superheroes saving the world. Anyway, he was the seventh son of a seventh son and so he had special powers.” He saw the looks on their faces. “What? I’m interested in comic heroes. Lots of people are.”

  “Mmm, getting back to Alec Whickham.” said Kelly. She turned to Thackray. “He was killed on the tenth of April. Considering your veneration of Wil
liam of Ockham, you can understand why we might be curious about it.”

  His reaction was difficult to read, although he seemed surprised that Kelly would know about Ockham’s commemoration day. “Another coincidence. As I told you at our last meeting, I was at the parish council meeting until nine pm that day. Then I came home.” He bit his bottom lip and looked uneasy.

  Finally, I’m getting somewhere. “And you didn’t go out again after that?”

  “Not afterwards, no.”

  Robson picked up on the ambiguity of his answer. “What about before the meeting?”

  Thackray took a deep breath and looked at the picture on the wall above the dresser. “Every year I make a small offering to William on his day. Something appropriate. A razor. I lay it in the sea so that it will not be disturbed by the hand of man. This year I went down to the shore to make the offering before going on to the parish council. But if you’re suggesting that I would take a human life as a sacrifice, that is sickening and outrageous. I would never take a life, Inspector. Never. And I certainly do not believe it would honour William to do so.”

  His sincerity was clear, and Kelly began to feel her certainty slipping away. She folded her copy of the Thackray family tree and put it in her bag. “Thank you, Doctor Thackray. I think we’ve got as far as we can for now. You won’t mind if I keep the family tree?”

  “Not at all,” said Thackray, the little flame of pride beginning to rekindle in his eyes.

  Kelly got up and Robson followed. Thackray led them down the garden path again and bolted the wooden door behind them, with a curt “Goodbye.”

  They got into the car and Kelly put her head in her hands. “Oh God! What a total disaster. That was not the high spot of my career. What the hell is wrong with me?”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself, ma’am. He’s a slippery fish, and barking mad,” said Robson, mixing his metaphors. “What powers does he think he’s got?”

  “God knows. I certainly don’t anymore.”

  “Where to now?”

  “Somewhere where I can think. Would you drop me off at the North Beach? I’ll walk back.”

  Chapter 20

  Robson pulled into the lay by and Kelly got out. She leaned back into the car. “I may wander around for a while. When you get back to the office have a ferret around for ... something. Anything. Just take a flyer. We’re completely missing something, and I don’t know what it is.” He nodded. “And thanks again, Jack.” She shut the door.

  He drove away, smiling to himself. How many times had he done this when they were on a case? She’s a good copper. Just thinks too much.

  Kelly bought a large ice cream cone from the kiosk at the top of the slipway and then walked down onto the flat expanse of sand. She could hardly see the sea. At this time of year, just after a new or full moon, the sea can go out a long way; even further than usual, which is saying something for this coastline. But twice a day it races back across the sand flats towards the sea wall. The speed of the tides and the treacherous areas of quicksand claim lives on this coast every year, but it was hard to believe it on a day like this. The sky was deep azure directly above her head, fading to pale turquoise at the horizon. The few clouds were high and thin, like the flanks of colossal fish, their scales shimmering in the sunlight. The distant sea twinkled. She sat down at the bottom of the slipway and took her shoes and socks off with one hand, carefully holding onto the ice cream cone with the other. She rolled up her black trousers and set off across the sand, keeping parallel with the sea front and Marine Drive.

  OK. Let’s think this through from the start. Bailey’s ID card was used to open the lab door the night Whickham was killed. She would know that her card would be traceable, so why would she use it? Why would anyone use it? She could have lent it to Thackray, but it’s still too incriminating. No, the obvious answer is that someone did it to frame her, or at least put us off the scent. Putting absorbent paper soaked with Whickham’s blood into her own dustbin was another stupid thing to do, and it seems out of character for her. Again, it looks like too much incriminating evidence. Amateur. So, is that what the blog postings are about too? Is it someone who knows her relationship to Luke Thackray and is trying to put both of them in the frame? So how did they get hold of Thackray’s ID? Shit. None of this makes sense. She took a big bite out of the chocolate flake that was speared into the top of her ice cream. But Thackray still makes my nose twitch.

  When she had finished the ice cream she took her iPod out of her bag and chose her favourite album for walking and thinking; R.E.M.’s ‘Automatic for the People’. The shuffle started at Star Me Kitten as she walked along the sand, lost in the music, her thoughts and the beauty of her surroundings. About ten minutes later she reached a set of steps and realised that she was near the bottom of University Road. She thought about calling in to see Joseph, just on the off chance of a helpful chat, and then noticed that her heart was beating a little faster at the thought. She pulled her socks and shoes back on and rolled down her trouser legs, brushing off the sand that had gathered in the turn ups. With a lighter step she headed towards the UNWE science building, despite R.E.M.’s warning that everybody hurts, sometimes.

  ----------

  The receptionist pointed Kelly in the direction of Mike and Joseph’s office. As she walked down the corridor she felt a flutter in her stomach. Oh, stop this.

  She found the door and knocked. “Come in.” Was that Joseph’s voice? She checked the room number again. S119. That’s what the man at the desk said. She opened the door and looked in. Mike and Joseph were at their desks and both looked up.

  “Oh, Inspector Kelly. Hello.” Joseph got up and walked over to her with his hand out. They shook hands and he turned round towards Mike. “You’ve met Doctor Mike Osewe?”

  Mike stood up. “Yes, you interviewed me the day Alec died.”

  “Indeed. Hello again.” They shook hands.

  Joseph pulled a spare chair up to the side of his desk. “Please, have a seat. Did we have an appointment I’ve forgotten?”

  “Oh, no. I was just passing.” She cringed inwardly. You idiot. You could think of something more convincing than that. “Sorry, dreadful cliché.” Mike and Joseph both grinned. “It would help me if I could run some things past you.”

  “Sure. We’ll help however we can,” said Joseph, as Mike nodded in agreement and brought his chair round to Joseph’s desk.

  Kelly took a deep breath. “We’ve been investigating a divinity lecturer here, a Doctor Luke Thackray.”

  “Is he the blogger?” asked Mike, quick as a flash.

  “I didn’t say that,” said Kelly. “But you may choose to draw that conclusion. Anyway, he’s quite a character.” She opened her bag, took out the Thackray family tree and held it so they could both see. “A seventh son of a seventh son. He believes he’s magickal. With a ‘k’.”

  Mike and Joseph both laughed. “Is he loopy enough to write the stuff on Alec’s blog?” asked Mike.

  “Very probably, but he swears he didn’t.”

  Joseph had been looking at the family tree closely. “Actually, he’s the seventh son of a sixth son, according to this.”

  “Ah, well, Juliet and Jeremiah’s baby who died was male. He found a letter from Juliet’s sister in America in the early 1900s confirming the death and the child’s sex.”

  “So he counts that does he?”

  “Apparently.”

  It was Mike’s turn to study the tree. “May Ellison,” he said, under his breath.

  Kelly half heard it. “Pardon?”

  “Oh, er, did you say Juliet Streater was from America?”

  “Yes, somewhere in the South I think. Hang on.” She consulted her notebook. “Yes. Sumterville, South Carolina.”

  Mike raised his eyebrows.

  Joseph turned to Kelly. “Juliet seems to be quite a popular name in that family.” He looked at her quizzically.

  “Yes, it does, doesn’t it.” Kelly dropped her voice to just a
bove a whisper. “You both know Juliet Bailey well, don’t you?”

  “I know her fairly well,” Joseph replied.

  “Do you know anything about her family, or how any of this Thackray business might be connected? I just can’t piece all this together.”

  “No. She never says anything much about her family. I know she divorced a few years ago and has no children. Her parents live in the Midlands somewhere and her dad is a retired archaeology professor. That’s it, that’s all I know.” He looked back at the family tree. “So Luke Thackray is her ...” He paused to work it out. “...uncle?”

  Kelly nodded. “How well do you know Professor Bailey, Dr Osewe?”

  “Hardly at all, I’m afraid. At least, not personally. I know her work and, of course, she’s the Dean so we talk sometimes. But only about work.” He gently took the copy of the Thackray family tree from Kelly’s hand and looked at it. “It is an odd coincidence that her card was used to open the lab door, and that she’s related to someone who may be the phantom blogger, though.”

  “Coincidences seem to be all we have at the moment,” Kelly replied.

  “Could I take a quick photocopy of this?” asked Mike, standing up.

  “Sure. Thackray seems to be very happy to hand out copies.”

  He walked over to the printer, put the paper on the glass and closed the lid. A bright white light flashed back and forth around the edges of the cover.

  Joseph shrugged. “Well, I’m sorry we can’t shed any more light on things. But I’m going over to see Juliet this evening, just for a supportive chat. I could do some careful rummaging, if you’d like?”

  Kelly looked uncertain. “Very careful. I shouldn’t really be involving you both in this at all, but any extra background information you can give me would be very helpful just at the moment. Today hasn’t been my best day for making good judgements. Please don’t make it worse by getting yourselves into difficult positions.” She got up and took the Thackray family tree back from Mike’s outstretched hand. “I’d better be making my way back to the station. I walked over.”