Day for Dying

by Dorothy Simpson

  ‘I think I see what you’re getting at. I was putting it on a bit. Playing it cool.’

  ‘Yes, but that was your way of coping,’ said Thanet. ‘I see that now.’

  Suddenly and unexpectedly she smiled, for the first time, and Thanet saw how vital and attractive she might be in normal circumstances. ‘You’re much too nice to be a policeman.’

  Lineham rolled his eyes. ‘You wouldn’t say that if you worked with him!’

  ‘That’s enough from you, Sergeant!’

  They all laughed and the atmosphere lightened still further.

  ‘OK,’ said Anthea. ‘Let’s try again. Tell me how I can help.’

  ‘I know it might be painful for you, but if you could tell us a bit about Max? It really is helpful to find out how different people viewed him.’

  She frowned, picking at some nail varnish which had worked loose. ‘It’s so difficult when you know someone well,’ she said, unconsciously echoing her mother. ‘And I’ve known Max for years, ever since we were in our teens.’ She shook her head. ‘And I still can’t believe he’s . . .’ She swallowed hard and dabbed at her eyes with Lineham’s handkerchief. ‘He was so alive, so much, well, larger than life. I know he was self-centred and big-headed but somehow, with Max, you could forgive him because, let’s face it, it was justified. He had everything, you see. He was good-looking, intelligent, gifted . . . The fact that he traded on all this just seemed to fade into insignificance when you were with him. He made life so much more exciting, just by being there. That’s why he was always the centre of a crowd. He was like a magnet. That was the secret of his success as a travel writer, I think. People would have opened up to him in a way that was pure gold as far as his work was concerned.’ She stopped, gave a little grimace and a wry grin. ‘That was his good side.’

  ‘And his bad?’

  ‘He was pretty ruthless really. If he wanted something he went for it, no matter who got hurt on the way.’

  ‘And I should think,’ said Lineham as they returned to the car, ‘that that just about sums him up. What amazes me is that she could see all that so clearly and yet she was still crazy about him.’

  ‘It really shouldn’t surprise you, Mike. There are men like that, and women too, and no matter what they do the unfortunate souls who fall in love with them just keep coming back for more.’

  ‘Back to Sturrenden to see Argent?’ said Lineham, starting the engine. He waited for Thanet’s nod before moving off. ‘So what do you think, sir? Think it was her?’

  ‘No, I don’t. I may be wrong, of course. She was certainly away from the others long enough.’

  Anthea had confirmed that around 9.40, while they were queueing for supper, she had left Gerald and Hartley; to go to the loo, she claimed. There had been a number of women with the same idea and she had had to wait to use the bathroom, passing the time with social chit-chat. Lineham would check the names she had given them but even so, the fact that she had been away a good fifteen or twenty minutes meant that in the general confusion of people milling around at suppertime it would be virtually impossible to pin down timings precisely.

  ‘Now if her mother had been there . . .’ said Lineham.

  ‘I know. But she wasn’t.’

  ‘I think what made Mrs Greenway so furious with Max was that she could see all along he was only amusing himself with Anthea because Tess wasn’t available. She knew Anthea was going to get hurt and there was nothing she could do about it.’

  ‘And being proved right has given her no satisfaction. You’re right, Mike.’ Thanet was thinking of Bridget and her ex-boyfriend Alexander. ‘It’s not easy to stand by and see your children get hurt. It’s bad enough when it’s not intentional, when it’s a love affair that just goes wrong, but when you suspect from the beginning that someone is just using your son or daughter for his own amusement and you feel helpless to prevent it . . . Oh yes, I can understand how she feels, all right. But if we all went around bumping off people who had jilted our offspring there’d be mayhem.’ Why, oh why hadn’t they heard from Bridget? Would she ring tonight?

  ‘Anyway, as you say, she wasn’t even there.’

  This time they were not disappointed. Although dusk was only just beginning to fall there were lights on in Argent’s house and a couple of cars parked outside.

  ‘That’s Hartley Jeopard’s Golf,’ said Lineham.

  ‘So it is. Never mind.’ Thanet was already out of the car. He wasn’t going to be put off now. Gerald Argent was the only member of the group they had not so far met and he was eager to do so. ‘Let’s see what Argent has to say for himself.’

  THIRTEEN

  Gerald Argent was the type you’d pass in the street without a second glance, thought Thanet as they followed him through a hall so tiny that there was barely room for more than two people to stand in it. Argent was neither short nor tall, fat nor thin, dark nor fair, and had, on first impressions, no peculiarities of physiognomy to make him stand out from the crowd. It was all the more intriguing, therefore, to enter his living room and be confronted by two shelves of cups and trophies and a number of framed photographs which clearly commemorated the occasions upon which they had been won. Apart from this touch of individuality it was a room which would, Thanet thought, be indistinguishable from hundreds of thousands of others in modern houses up and down the country, simply but adequately furnished with a sofa, two matching armchairs, some adjustable bookshelves, a television set and a CD player. At one end there was a small round modern dining table and four chairs.

  Hartley Jeopard unfolded his long frame from an armchair as they came in. ‘Good evening, Inspector, Sergeant. I’ll be off, then, Gerald.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Hart. I don’t mind you staying, not in the least.’ Argent cocked an interrogatory eyebrow at Thanet.

  ‘It’s entirely up to you,’ said Thanet.

  Hartley shuffled his feet. ‘No, I think it would be best if I went. Tell you what, I’ll go and pick up something to eat. D’you fancy Chinese?’

  ‘Fine by me.’

  ‘OK. Anything special?’

  ‘Up to you.’

  The display of photographs was drawing Thanet like a magnet and during this exchange he edged closer to them. The images took on definition, became recognisable. The distinctive silhouettes of ballroom dancers have become universally familiar via the medium of television. Perhaps Argent wasn’t quite your Mr Average after all, he thought. Distinction in any field can only be achieved by patience, dedication, perseverance and sheer hard work. He turned to find Argent watching him, and waved a hand at the trophies. ‘You must be very good at it.’

  Argent shrugged. ‘A lot depends on finding the right partner.’

  ‘You obviously have.’

  ‘We’ve been dancing together for a number of years now.’

  ‘I imagine it’s a pretty time-consuming hobby.’

  ‘It does take a fair amount of time, yes. Do sit down.’

  ‘How do boyfriends and girlfriends, husbands and wives feel about that?’

  ‘Much as they would about any other hobby, I suppose.’

  ‘And Miss Sylvester?’

  Argent was immediately wary. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I was wondering how she felt about your spending so much time with another woman, when you were engaged.’

  ‘June isn’t “another woman”, as you put it, Inspector. She’s my dancing partner and nothing more. As a matter of fact she’s engaged herself and getting married in the autumn. Anyway, the question is irrelevant. My engagement was recently broken off as you’re obviously aware. And in any case, I frankly don’t see that it’s any of your business.’

  ‘Oh but it is, Mr Argent, as I’m sure you’ll realise if you put your mind to it. In fact, you must think I’m pretty naïve if you imagine I don’t appreciate the possible consequences of Max Jeopard’s death as far as you are concerned.’

  Argent’s lips tightened but he did not respond.

 
; ‘Yes, I see you understand me. Miss Sylvester is free again now, isn’t she?’

  ‘I refuse to discuss the matter. I think it’s in very bad taste, so soon after Max’s death.’

  ‘In my view, bad taste doesn’t enter into it, where murder is concerned.’

  ‘It is definitely murder, then?’

  ‘We’re treating it as such at the moment, yes. It’s difficult to see how it could be anything else. And the plain fact is that yesterday Miss Sylvester was lost to you. Now, she is attainable again, because of Max Jeopard’s death.’

  ‘So that makes me a murderer, does it!’

  ‘Not necessarily, no. But you must see that suspicion is bound to fall upon you and it’s up to you to convince us that you had nothing to do with his death.’

  ‘Great! I thought that in this country you were innocent until proved guilty, not the other way around!’

  ‘I didn’t say that it was up to you to convince the Court that you were innocent, just to convince us. A very different matter. I’m putting this to you quite plainly because you are obviously an intelligent man and I want you to understand that there is no point in trying to be anything less than frank with us.’

  ‘Why should I be less than frank with you? I’ve nothing to hide.’

  ‘Good!’ said Thanet. ‘In that case . . .’ He glanced at Lineham.

  The sergeant took over smoothly and while he put his questions Thanet observed Argent carefully, on the alert for the slightest sign of unease, wariness, dissemblance. When you were doing the questioning you had to concentrate so hard on what you were saying that it was not always possible to pick up these nuances. But try as he would he could detect no sign that the man was lying. Argent’s account accorded with that of Anthea and Hartley: he had remained behind in the queue while the other two went off to their respective loos. He had, he claimed, collected his food and then gone to sit down while he waited for them to return.

  ‘We understand that in the first instance you refused the invitation to the party,’ said Lineham.

  ‘I don’t know why that should surprise you. I would have thought it understandable in the circumstances.’

  ‘Quite. No, we’re much more interested in why you later changed your mind.’

  Argent shrugged. ‘I thought about it a lot before deciding to go after all. As I saw it, the fact of the matter was that although Tess and Max would be living in London we would be bound to see each other from time to time and unless I was prepared to go through life avoiding any possibility of running into them, I might as well start as I meant to go on.’

  ‘Your change of heart did not extend to being civil to Mr Jeopard, though.’

  ‘My God, you have been listening to gossip, haven’t you?’

  ‘Naturally we’ve been talking to everyone who was present last night, yes. What else would you expect, in a murder case?’

  ‘Snubbing someone doesn’t mean to say you intend to nip off and kill them later on in the evening, does it? In fact, I’d say the opposite was true. If I’d intended to bash Max over the head and shove him into the swimming pool I’d scarcely have made it quite so obvious I wasn’t on speaking terms with him, would I?’

  Argent had a point, there, thought Thanet.

  Lineham had picked him up quickly. ‘Who said anything about bashing him on the head?’

  ‘Nobody! But it’s obvious to anyone who knew Max and has even a grain of intelligence that he must have been unconscious when he went into the water or he would have got himself out again. Hasn’t anyone told you what a strong swimmer he was?’

  Definitely round one to Argent, thought Thanet as they left. Despite his nondescript appearance he was clearly not a man to be underestimated. He said so, to Lineham.

  ‘You’re right there!’ The sergeant was clearly smarting at having allowed Argent to gain the upper hand.

  ‘He’s either a good liar or he has nothing to hide.’

  ‘I agree.’

  ‘But the fact remains, he had a pretty powerful motive.’

  ‘Too true. Tess Sylvester would be a good catch for any man. I mean, she’s got everything, including an old man who’s rolling in it.’

  ‘I sometimes think you’re completely lacking in romance, Mike.’

  ‘That’s what Louise says.’

  ‘You’d better watch it! Once your wife starts saying that sort of thing you could be in big trouble.’

  Lineham appeared unconcerned. ‘She’s been saying it since before we were married and it didn’t put her off then, so why should it make any difference now? Still, maybe you’re right.’ He grinned and glanced at Thanet. ‘You’ll be asking me when I last told her I love her, next!’

  Thanet laughed. ‘When did you?’

  On the drive back to the office they were silent, thinking. Just before they got there Lineham said, ‘There is one possibility we haven’t considered.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That Hartley Jeopard and Argent could have been in it together. They seem pretty close.’

  ‘Oh come on, Mike. Haven’t we got enough suspects, without you scratching around for further possibilities? Besides, I think we’d both agree that this is unlikely to have been a premeditated murder and I can’t really envisage a scenario in which more than Jeopard and one other person were involved.’

  Back at the office there were endless reports to read and to write and it was late before Thanet managed to get away. He was tired, his back was aching as usual and all he could think of was getting into bed and sinking into oblivion. He thought that both Joan and Ben would have been in bed long since and on arriving home, therefore, he was surprised to see lights on downstairs. Bad news about Bridget? His mind clicked into higher gear as the adrenalin began to flow.

  As he closed the front door Ben appeared in the living-room doorway. He’d obviously been waiting for his father to get home. But there was no sign of Joan, so this was probably nothing to do with Bridget. Thanet breathed a sigh of relief.

  ‘Hi, Dad. I know it’s late, but any chance of a word?’

  ‘Yes, of course. The spurt of anxiety had in any case woken Thanet up. He could guess what Ben wanted to talk about and felt guilty that he had scarcely given a thought to his son’s future all day. ‘Fancy a cup of tea?’

  ‘Thanks. I wouldn’t mind a snack as well. You want one?’

  ‘No, I’m not hungry. Had something in the canteen earlier. You go ahead, though.’

  Thanet put the kettle on while Ben assembled the makings of one of his famous snacks: bread, margarine, cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, spring onions, cucumber. ‘How’s the case going, Dad?’ he said.

  ‘All right, I suppose. The first day’s always a bit hectic. I can never seem to get through as much as I’d like to.’

  ‘Sounds an interesting one, by what I heard on the news. Is it true that it happened at the victim’s engagement party?’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’

  ‘Tough on the fiancée.’

  ‘Quite.’

  ‘They said he was a travel writer.’

  ‘That’s right. He’d only written one book so far, but he did pretty well out of it. As a matter of fact I’ve got a copy.’ Thanet had shoved the book Mrs Jeopard had given him into his raincoat pocket before leaving the office and now he went to fetch it, handed it to Ben.

  ‘Peephole into China. Mmm. Interesting cover,’ said Ben, studying it. He turned the book over. ‘This him?’

  Thanet nodded. The kettle had boiled and he made the tea, then poured it.

  ‘Looks pretty full of himself.’

  Thanet made no comment and Ben, sensing that his father had said all he was prepared to say on the subject, handed the book back and picked up his sandwich and mug. ‘Ready?’

  They retired to the living room where the embers of a fire still glowed. Both Thanet and Joan loved an open fire and always used it in the evenings in preference to central heating.

  Thanet threw a couple of logs on to it then sank bac
k into his armchair with a sigh of relief. ‘That’s better. So . . . I imagine you want to talk about this new suggestion of yours.’

  Ben nodded. ‘We didn’t have much chance to discuss it last night.’ He sank his teeth enthusiastically into his sandwich.

  ‘I know. I’m sorry.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault. And I’m sorry, too, to spring this on you at the end of such a long day. But I don’t have any choice. I really do have to make up my mind in the next day or two.’

  Thanet grinned. ‘I know. But I think we’d better stop apologising to each other, don’t you? Now, tell me what you really feel about this and I’ll try to do the same.’

  Ben took another huge mouthful before replying. ‘Well, I know that last night I came over a bit strong. But to be honest, Dad, I still haven’t really made up my mind. I suppose I was afraid you’d be so dead set against the idea that I felt I had to present you with a cut-and-dried decision to counter what you were going to say.’ He gave a shamefaced grin. ‘Knowing you and Mum I should have had more sense.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you’re not exactly heavy-handed types, are you?’

  Thanet smiled. ‘We try not to be. Is that a complaint?’ He was endeavouring to hide his relief. There was still a chance, then, that Ben might opt for university after all.

  This time there was mischief in Ben’s smile. ‘Well, it doesn’t leave much room for adolescent revolt!’

  ‘Is that what this is?’

  ‘No! Well, not exactly. I suppose I feel I’ve just drifted into the idea of going on to university without really questioning whether or not it’s what I really want.’

  ‘And when did you decide that what you really wanted was to go into the police?’

  Ben shrugged, finished demolishing his sandwich. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Years ago, really, if I look back. I’ve always been very interested in your work, as you know. But I suppose I didn’t actually come out with it because in a way I didn’t want to seem to be following in my father’s footsteps. If you see what I mean. And then I thought, well hang on, this is ridiculous. If it’s what I want, that shouldn’t stop me doing it. Should it?’