Day for Dying

by Dorothy Simpson

  She gave an embarrassed little laugh, as if unused to compliments. ‘I don’t do it alone, you know. The district nurse comes in regularly to bathe her and of course we have help in the house.’

  Thanet felt like telling her not to undervalue what she did. Eleanor Jeopard couldn’t be the easiest of patients and there was little doubt that without her sister’s help she would either have had to employ a full-time nurse or go into a nursing home. ‘How long has your sister been’ – how should he put it? – ‘incapacitated?’

  ‘Ever since the car crash in which her husband was killed, when Max was thirteen, so it must be . . . let me see . . . sixteen years now. Actually, that was what I wanted to say to you, Inspector. My sister . . . she’s in constant pain, you know, and life is not easy for her. She was always such an active woman, with so many interests. So now, sometimes she . . . well, she tends to come across as much, well, harsher than she really is. I’m just saying that we have to make allowances for that in what she says.’

  They had reached the front door now and they all stepped outside, automatically gravitating towards the sunshine.

  Thanet paused, turning to face her. ‘Are you saying that what she told us was a . . . shall we say an exaggeration of the truth?’

  ‘Well, no, not exactly. It’s just that I wouldn’t want you to think less of her because she expressed her opinions so strongly. Max, you see, was always the apple of her eye. The only way she can begin to cope with what has happened is to turn her anger on to other people.’

  ‘Yes, I do understand that.’

  For the first time she met his gaze directly. ‘Yes, I believe you do.’ Already, her mission accomplished, she was turning back towards the house.

  ‘Miss Burke . . .’ He mustn’t miss the opportunity. ‘If I could just check one or two points?’ But he learned nothing new and was interested to note that she, too, was reluctant to talk about the incident between Anthea Greenway and Max. She admitted having witnessed it from across the room.

  ‘Do you know what might have prompted her to slap him across the face in public like that?’

  She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and glanced at the hall windows to her right. ‘No idea. I’m sorry.’

  Following her gaze Thanet saw that Mrs Jeopard had been watching them. She couldn’t possibly hear what they were saying but Louisa Burke was behaving as if she could, edging unobtrusively back towards the haven of the front door. Reluctantly, he let her go.

  ‘What was all that about?’ said Lineham as they returned to the car.

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘I mean, why clam up about Anthea Greenway like that?’

  ‘The only reason I can think of,’ said Thanet as he got in and wound the window down, ‘is that I suspect Hartley Jeopard is in love with Anthea and his mother is following the same policy as she did with Max, in trying not to alienate him by criticising his girl friend.’

  ‘D’you think she might have been more open if he hadn’t been there?’ Lineham made a minute adjustment to the rear-view mirror before starting the car. He was somewhat obsessive about checking that everything was properly in order before moving off.

  ‘I don’t know. I doubt it, actually. I imagine family loyalty ranks pretty high with her and now that she’s lost one son she’s not going to risk losing the other.’

  ‘You could have fooled me, the way she treated him! If you ask me she’s an autocratic old so-and-so.’ Lineham’s own mother had always been something of a problem and his hackles invariably rose at the first signs of maternal domination.

  ‘She did come over like that, I agree. But I’m not sure how much of it was an act put on for our benefit. Or if, as her sister says, it’s the only way she could cope. Didn’t you notice how exhausted she was by the end of the interview?’

  ‘Maybe. But if you ask me, there’s no doubt who rules the roost. I felt sorry for the sister.’

  ‘She can’t have much of a life,’ Thanet agreed.

  They had reached the gates and Lineham leaned forward to check that the road was clear before moving out. ‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘I suppose we’re a bit further forward.’

  ‘Depends what you mean by further forward. Our list of suspects is getting longer by the minute, true.’

  It certainly is! Gerald Argent sounds the most likely candidate, wouldn’t you agree? He must have been really miffed at having Tess snatched away from him practically at the altar, especially if, as Mrs Jeopard claims, he’s been mad about her for years. He’s obviously still pretty fed up about it if, as the housekeeper told us, he originally refused the invitation to the engagement party. I wonder how she knew that, by the way.’

  ‘I should think not much goes on in that house that she doesn’t know.’

  ‘Anyway, Gerald obviously changed his mind and went, but she did say that he deliberately snubbed Max. Not surprising, if you ask me. Did you notice, by the way, that Hartley was anxious to play down Gerald’s involvement with Tess?’

  ‘Yes. I’d guess that he and Gerald are pretty close friends.’

  ‘But you agree, sir, that Gerald has a pretty strong motive?’

  ‘So have a number of other people.’

  ‘True. There’s Hartley himself, for that matter. I wouldn’t mind betting that Max played the same trick on him as he did on Gerald, filching his girlfriend from under his nose. But for no better reason than that his own wasn’t available at the time!’

  ‘Possibly. Tess was away in the States, wasn’t she?’

  ‘That’s what Hartley said. Anyway, it couldn’t have been easy, having Max Jeopard as an older brother. I imagine he outshone Hartley at most things. And he was obviously his mother’s favourite. I’d guess that’s why Hartley is as he is.’

  ‘Diffident, you mean?’

  ‘Yes. Looking as though he’s apologising for his existence. And we all know how dangerous the quiet ones can be, how the worm can turn.’

  ‘But if that is so, why wait until last night? If Hartley was going to snap over Max taking Anthea away from him, surely he’d have done that when it actually happened? After all, Max has been away for a couple of years, until Christmas, in fact, and it sounds as though the minute he got home and found Tess engaged to Gerald Argent he went all out to get her back.’

  ‘And I wonder how Anthea felt about that. I suppose we shouldn’t rule her out, either. What if she’d been expecting him to take up where they left off, when he got home? And then he makes a dead set for Tess instead. It’s interesting that both she and Max excused themselves from the people they were with at the same time, twenty to ten. D’you think they might have arranged to meet? That’s a point, sir! That could be it!’ Lineham flashed Thanet a delighted grin.

  ‘Well? Go on!’

  ‘I’m trying to think what time the face-slapping incident took place. Was it before or after nine o’clock, that’s the point?’

  ‘Ah. You mean that the note could have been from Anthea, apologising for the scene she made and begging him to meet her in the supper interval . . . to . . . what?’

  ‘Apologise properly? And promising something, anything, so long as she could see him alone for a few moments.’

  ‘Do you think he’d have gone along with that?’

  ‘No idea. It’s possible. If only to tell her that it was pointless to go on hoping he’d come back to her. Then she loses her temper, gives him a shove, he hits his head on something as he falls into the pool and she just walks out.’

  ‘Leaving him to drown. When she’s supposed to be in love with him?’

  ‘It could have happened like that.’

  ‘I agree. It could. But there’s the same objection as there is to Hartley having done it. Why wait until now? If she were going to take any kind of revenge, surely it would have been at Christmas, when she found he wasn’t coming back to her?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. She could have kept on hoping and hoping but then, when he finally got engaged . . . Anyway, you have to a
dmit that to make that sort of scene in public she must still feel pretty strongly about him.’

  ‘I suppose so. But let’s face it, Mike. Some people enjoy making a spectacle of themselves, and Anthea looked a pretty colourful character to me.’

  ‘You mean the way she was dressed?’

  ‘It was fairly flamboyant, wouldn’t you agree? In fact, I wouldn’t have thought she was Hartley’s type. I’d have thought he’d go for someone altogether quieter, more subdued. Still, all the signs are that he did, and if so then I agree, we have to consider him a suspect. Especially as I imagine he wouldn’t exactly be the type to have a string of girlfriends, either. He’d be very much a one-woman man.’

  ‘Unlike his brother! From what we’ve heard, Max just had to have a woman – any woman, in tow. And even when he had one he couldn’t keep his hands off the others, by all accounts! If you ask me it’s not surprising someone decided to clock him one and chuck him in the swimming pool! Oh all right, all right, sir, no need to look at me like that. I know murder can’t be justified. But you must agree that occasionally it is at least understandable and from what we’ve heard about Max Jeopard . . . He sounds as selfish as they come, doesn’t he? Never mind anyone else’s feelings as long as his own were gratified. Imagine groping other women at your own engagement party! What must Tess have felt about that!’

  ‘Quite. Or her father, for that matter.’

  ‘You think it’s true, what the old lady said about him being dead against the marriage?’

  ‘It wouldn’t surprise me. Sylvester and Max would have been chalk and cheese, I imagine. And I should think it’s true that Sylvester would much prefer to have Tess settled locally, where they could see her regularly and be able to watch their grandchildren grow up. Of course, for all we know, Max and Tess were planning to settle in this area anyway, or at least to have a house here as a base. We must find out.’

  They were both silent for a while, thinking. Then Thanet said, ‘The fact of the matter is we’re only just beginning to scratch the surface of this case, Mike. Let’s find out a bit more about these people before we start trying to draw conclusions. Which reminds me, we mustn’t forget that Max Jeopard actually spent most of his time – when he was in this country, that is – in London. There’s too much to do today, but I think we’d better try and get up there to take a look at his flat. Tomorrow morning, perhaps.’ They were approaching a pub and he glanced at his watch. Twelve-forty-five. ‘Might as well pull in here for a bite to eat. Once we get to the Sylvesters’ we’ll be there for hours.’

  The pub was quiet, the service swift, and three-quarters of an hour later they were turning once again into the Sylvesters’ drive, just behind another car, a blue Nissan, which took the right fork, towards the bungalow.

  ‘Perhaps we’ll have a word with the gardener first,’ said Thanet. ‘What was his name? Fielding? He might have seen something last night.’

  They parked in front of the main house alongside a sleek K-registration BMW convertible at which Lineham cast admiring glances. ‘Wonder whose it is,’ he said wistfully, running a hand along its bonnet.

  ‘Sylvester’s, I imagine. Or his wife’s.’

  ‘Or even Tess’s. Must be nice to be able to afford to buy your daughter a car like that! They cost around £28,000 new, you know. Probably thirty, on the road. And this latest 325i model is holding its value well.’

  Thanet laughed. ‘I think you must spend all your spare time reading Auto magazines!’

  Lineham grinned. ‘Pretty well.’

  They walked back down the drive. By daylight last night’s impression of prosperity was underlined. The whole establishment was in excellent order and groomed to perfection, a place where weeds would think twice before daring to raise their heads above the soil and shrubs and trees obediently grew to exactly the right dimensions. The lawn edges were knife sharp, the block paving of the drive free of moss and algae.

  ‘Wish my garden looked like this,’ said Lineham.

  Thanet laughed. ‘Too much hard work.’

  His smile faded as he saw why the people who had got out of the Nissan were taking so long to get into the bungalow. There were three of them, an elderly couple supporting a much younger woman who was so weak she was apparently incapable of walking alone. With their arms around her waist they were making pitifully slow progress towards the front door, which stood open.

  By mutual accord Thanet and Lineham slowed down to allow them time to get themselves organised indoors.

  ‘Think we ought to come back later?’ said Lineham.

  Thanet shook his head. ‘Not much point in putting it off. It doesn’t look as though the situation is likely to change much, does it?’

  ‘Their daughter, you think?’

  ‘Must be. Sylvester said they had one.’

  ‘Wonder what’s the matter with her.’

  ‘Something pretty serious, by the look of it, poor girl. It didn’t look as though she could stand unaided.’

  ‘It must be terrible to see your son or daughter in that condition.’

  Cancer, Thanet thought. Or some incurable wasting disease. He pushed away the thought of Bridget in that state. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  Fielding had obviously seen them heading in his direction and now he came back out of the bungalow, shutting the door behind him.

  Thanet studied the man as he introduced himself. The gardener was in his mid-sixties, he guessed, short and whipcord-thin with sparse brown hair and a narrow face on which lines of anxiety were deeply etched. He was wearing a tweed jacket, shirt and tie. Sombre hazel eyes peered out at Thanet from deep sockets.

  ‘You wanted to see me?’

  ‘Just a few questions about last night.’

  Fielding said nothing, just waited.

  ‘I imagine you were helping in some way?’

  ‘I was overseeing the parking. You can get so many more cars in if they’re parked properly.’

  ‘So what time did you come back down?’

  ‘It must have been about a quarter past nine. My wife was watching the nine o’clock news when I got in.’

  ‘We understand you helped look for the Sylvesters’ son when he went missing. Did his nurse, Mr Roper, come down and fetch you?’

  ‘Yes, he did.’

  ‘What time would that have been?’

  ‘Somewhere around five to ten, ten o’clock, I should think.’

  ‘And were you indoors all the time during the intervening period?’

  ‘No. Mr Sylvester had asked me to keep an eye open for gatecrashers. You never know these days . . .’

  ‘So you went out, patrolled around?’

  ‘Not exactly. I just came out and walked down to the gate a couple of times, made sure everything was quiet.’

  ‘Did you, on any of those occasions, notice that the pool house was lit up?’ A vain hope, but he had to ask.

  Fielding shook his head. ‘Afraid not.’

  ‘And you didn’t actually go into the main house, you say?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So you saw nothing, heard nothing suspicious, the entire evening?’

  Another shake of the head. ‘I’m sorry.’

  As they walked back to the house Lineham said, ‘Pity.’

  ‘If he only walked down to the gate he’d have been too far away to see anything useful anyway. And in any case, we’re only assuming the pool house was lit up. If Max’s assignation was with a woman . . .’

  ‘True. Light would have been the last thing he would have wanted.’

  Suddenly there was the sound of furious barking and a large brown dog came rushing out from the gap between the garages and the house and raced towards them. Thanet and Lineham froze. It was, Thanet saw to his alarm, a Dobermann. It approached at terrifying speed, its eyes narrowed to yellow slits, fangs bared as it continued its frantic barking. Pointless to think of turning to run. He could only hope that it would find their immobility unthreatening.

  When it w
as only ten yards or so away a girl emerged from the same gap. When she saw what was happening she began to run. ‘Jason!’ she shouted. ‘Stay!’

  The dog skidded to a halt in front of them but continued barking ferociously.

  ‘Tess Sylvester, presumably,’ said Lineham with a nervous laugh.

  EIGHT

  Thanet had never seen a Dobermann at close quarters before and hoped he never would again. He was prepared to believe everything he had ever heard about their ferocity. He realised that the palms of his hands were damp.

  ‘Jason!’ she shouted again. ‘Enough!’

  The dog stopped barking immediately but did not change its aggressive stance, just stood looking at them, ready to spring, the whites of its eyes showing.

  The girl came up alongside it and laid her hand on its head. ‘Sit!’ she said. Reluctantly, the Dobermann lowered its rear quarters to the ground and was rewarded by a pat and a murmured, ‘Good boy!’

  Thanet could see why Tess’s father apparently doted on her and more than one man had wanted to marry her. Despite her red-rimmed eyes and the dark shadows beneath them she really was a lovely girl, with a clear, almost luminous complexion, lustrous dark eyes and a tumble of luxuriant hair the colour of ripe chestnuts. She was wearing the ubiquitous country uniform of Barbour and green Wellington boots.

  He discovered that he had been holding his breath. ‘Good watchdog!’ he said, when they had introduced themselves, relief infusing his comment with apparent enthusiasm.

  ‘He certainly is,’ said Tess, fondling the animal’s ears. It turned its head, clearly relishing the caress. ‘He’s an old softie, really.’

  ‘You could have fooled me!’ said Lineham.

  ‘Oh, but he is. Really. And once he knows you’re supposed to be here, he’ll be fine. In fact, just to be on the safe side, I’d better introduce you properly, then there won’t be any problem. Give me your hand,’ she said to Thanet.

  Thanet held it out and she took it between both of hers and rubbed it before offering it to the dog. With difficulty Thanet refrained from flinching. The dog sniffed at it warily.