Day for Dying

by Dorothy Simpson

  Thanet felt bound to defend himself. ‘As I understand it, sir, they are only dangerous if they don’t take their medication. And Carey Sylvester is closely supervised, with a full-time nurse to look after him.’

  ‘But I understand he escaped and was loose on the night of the murder.’

  Thanet didn’t like the word ‘loose’ in reference to Carey any more than he had when Mrs Jeopard had used it. It made the lad sound like a wild animal and he was, after all, a human being. ‘Yes, sir. But –’

  Draco shook his head. ‘All I’m saying, Thanet, is that I think you ought to look into this more closely. Which hospital was he in?’

  Thanet realised to his chagrin that he didn’t know. ‘I’ll find out, sir.’

  Draco’s hairy eyebrows arched, but showing unusual restraint he refrained from comment. He closed the file and brought the meeting abruptly to a close. But as they were on the way out he called Thanet back.

  ‘Get this put up on the noticeboard for me, will you?’

  Outside Boon said, ‘What is it?’

  The three of them stopped to read it. Draco’s distinctive handwriting marched across the page.

  You are reminded that the families of victims should always be kept up to date with what is going on in the relevant investigations.

  G. Draco

  ‘What brought that on?’ said Boon.

  ‘Me,’ said Thanet. ‘Well, actually it was Jeopard’s mother. She kept on ringing me up yesterday and I was in London, so she got herself put through to the Super. He hauled me over the coals as soon as I got back.’

  ‘Hard luck,’ said Boon.

  It would have given Thanet tremendous satisfaction to screw the piece of paper up and toss it into the nearest wastepaper bin, but restraining himself with difficulty he handed it to the desk sergeant. ‘Put this up, will you?’

  Lineham looked up as Thanet came in. ‘The PM is fixed for later on this morning. What’s the matter, sir? Not more trouble?’

  ‘I’m not exactly the Super’s blue-eyed boy at the moment, Mike. He thinks we’ve been remiss in not looking into Carey’s background more closely.’ Thanet sat down with a thump. His back protested and he clutched it. ‘Oh, no!’ He hoped he hadn’t dislodged the joint again.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh, nothing.’ He couldn’t be bothered to explain. It was too complicated. ‘The trouble is, he’s probably right.’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘No, Mike. Put Martin on to it right away. Get him to find out all he can about Carey’s medical history – which hospital he was in, how long he was there and so on. Tell him to find out which psychiatrist he was under and to make an appointment for us with him as soon as possible – this afternoon, perhaps. And make sure that Carson understands that he has to ring Mrs Jeopard every single morning to keep her happy. Tell him to use his common sense about what to tell her. With any luck, though, with Rosinha’s arrival she’ll have something else to occupy her mind now. Which reminds me. Did you get through to immigration at Croydon last night?’

  ‘No. They were closed. But I spoke to them just now, while you were in the meeting.’

  ‘And what did they say?’

  SEVENTEEN

  ‘It’s not too hopeful, I’m afraid,’ said Lineham, reaching for the sheet of paper on which he had made notes. ‘First of all it doesn’t look as though Rosinha would have applied for an entry clearance certificate which is essential as a preliminary to getting permission to stay here. If she had applied for one, giving pregnancy as a reason, she wouldn’t have got it without documentation – a letter from the child’s father, for instance, and we can be pretty sure from what she says that Jeopard didn’t provide her with one. So she would have come into the country in the normal way. No visa is required and provided she could satisfy immigration that she was a genuine visitor and convince them that she intended to return to Brazil, there would have been no problem about entry and she would then be able to stay for six months.’

  ‘Six months. That means she could in fact have the baby over here. Does that mean it will have British nationality?’

  Lineham was shaking his head. ‘No. Definitely not. Even if the father is British, unless the parents are married the child would be of Brazilian nationality and permission to stay longer than six months would be refused.’

  ‘Ah.’ Thanet could see problems looming. ‘We’ll have to tell Mrs Jeopard all this. Perhaps we should have looked into the matter more thoroughly before taking Rosinha to meet her. She’s going to be pretty upset if she sees her through her pregnancy and then finds the baby is whisked off to Brazil.’

  ‘I still don’t see what else we could have done.’

  ‘In any case, it’s too late now to worry about it.’ Though Thanet knew that he would.

  ‘So, what’s on the agenda for this morning, sir?’

  ‘Another visit to Mrs Mallis, I think.’ Because although, as he had said to Lineham, it was difficult to see how the fact that the housekeeper might be blackmailing her employer could have any relevance to the case, Thanet’s instinct kept tugging him back to the Sylvester household. Something was going on there, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. And it was, after all, the place where the murder had happened. Why was that? he wondered. Why had Max Jeopard met his death in that particular place and at that particular time? His engagement party should have been an occasion for celebration but instead of a day for rejoicing it had become a day for dying.

  As they were about to leave, however, DC Martin knocked on the door.

  ‘About Carey Sylvester, sir . . .’

  ‘That was quick.’ Thanet sat down again.

  ‘I got on to someone very helpful at County Hall.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Well, apparently Carey would have been in the catchment area for St Augustine’s, Canterbury, but that was finally closed down at the end of ’93 and patients now go to the new, purpose-built wing at Sturrenden General. There are only sixty beds there and patients are admitted only if it’s absolutely necessary. Someone like Carey Sylvester, who has his own nurse, wouldn’t have a chance unless something went dramatically wrong.’

  ‘So if St Augustine’s is closed, what would have happened to his medical records?’

  ‘They go with the psychiatrist, provided he stays in Kent. If he moved out of the area, the files would go to his successor. But we’re in luck, there. Dr Damon, who treated Carey, is actually in charge of this new wing at Sturrenden General. I rang his secretary to request an appointment for you and she said they’d have to discuss the matter with management first. I stressed the urgency and she promised to try and get back to me today – later on this morning, if she could.’

  ‘Well done!’ said Thanet. ‘Let’s hope they agree.’ Even if they didn’t, there would be sufficient new information to pacify Draco. And he had to admit that the Super was right, as usual. Carey’s medical history was a loose end which should be followed up.

  The heavy rain which had greeted them in London yesterday had moved south-east at a snail’s pace and was only now clearing Sturrenden. Outside the banks of dense cloud were moving away and a brightness in the sky hinted that the sun was doing its best to break through. The country lanes were still awash with water and more than once Lineham had to slow down in order to negotiate huge puddles which had spread halfway across the road. Thanet sat gazing out at the drowned landscape and planning the best way to tackle Barbara Mallis about the suspected blackmail. She wasn’t going to give in easily and admit it, that was certain. So would it be best to be polite and devious, or come straight out with the accusation? No, not the latter, he decided. That would simply put her back up and get nowhere. The softly softly approach, then.

  Lineham agreed. ‘Think we’ll get anywhere?’

  ‘Frankly, I doubt it. But we can try. She’s the only person we know for certain is lying at the moment.’

  ‘We’ve only Sylvester’s word for it that she claims to have inherit
ed money from her father. He could have got it wrong, misunderstood her, whatever . . .’

  ‘That’s true. We’ll have to tread carefully, hope we can catch her out.’

  As they turned into the drive of the Sylvester house the sun came out at last, illuminating it as if a spotlight had been turned on. It looked so innocent, thought Thanet. Who, passing in the lane, would ever have guessed that behind its walls murder had so recently been done?

  Fielding, the gardener, was squatting by a blocked drain in front of the house. He had the cover off and was ramming a flexible metal rod down it.

  ‘Trouble?’ said Thanet.

  ‘Too much water coming off the roof too fast,’ said Fielding. ‘If there’s any kind of obstruction, this drain can’t take it. It has a sharp bend a short way along, it’s always causing problems.’

  It was Tess who answered the door. The Dobermann was beside her and advanced to nose at Thanet’s hand. With difficulty he prevented himself from flinching and managed to pat the dog’s head. ‘Good boy.’

  Tess smiled. ‘You see?’ she said. ‘I told you he’d remember you.’ She looked a little better today, her eyes less bloodshot, the skin beneath less puffy.

  Thanet smiled back. ‘It’s Mrs Mallis we’ve come to see.’

  ‘She’s in the kitchen.’ Tess stood back to let them in.

  ‘Thank you. We know the way.’

  She nodded and turned back to the open door of the sitting room, where the television set was on. The dog’s toenails clicked rhythmically on the parquet floor as he followed her.

  Barbara Mallis was preparing the family’s evening meal, a casserole by the look of it. She was cutting up stewing steak and dropping it into a large green Le Creuset pot. Bags of various root vegetables lay on the table. She was wearing a neat blue and white checked overall to protect her clothes and her hair was caught up into a French pleat. As usual she was carefully made up and sported a number of pieces of jewellery. In addition to earrings Thanet counted four rings and three gold necklaces of varying thicknesses and designs. He wondered how she managed to maintain her long varnished nails in such good condition.

  She didn’t look too pleased to see them but she invited them to sit down. ‘You don’t mind if I go on with this?’

  ‘Not at all. You must spend quite a lot of time in here, with – how many? – six adults to cook for?’

  ‘I do, yes.’

  ‘Do you do all the cleaning too?’

  ‘Oh no. A woman from the village comes in every day. I supervise her, do the food shopping and organise the running of the house in general. And cook, as you say.’ She dropped the last batch of meat into the pot and set it on the hotplate of the Aga. It began to sizzle almost immediately and she reached across to switch on the extractor fan.

  This was rather noisy and Thanet had to raise his voice. He regretted agreeing that she should continue with her preparations. ‘You like the job?’

  A shrug, ‘It’s all right.’ She was stirring the meat vigorously with a wooden spoon to prevent it sticking.

  How to put this tactfully? ‘I imagine the Sylvesters are generous employers.’

  She gave him a sharp look over her shoulder. ‘I don’t see that’s any business of yours, Inspector.’

  ‘I’m not sure whether it is or not.’

  She removed the casserole from the heat, closed the hotplate lid and turned to face him, giving him her full attention for the first time. ‘And just what, exactly, do you mean by that?’

  So much for the softly softly approach. It had been naïve of him to imagine that he could approach the subject of money without putting her on the defensive. He would have had to come out into the open sooner or later and it was obviously sooner. ‘How much, exactly, do you earn, Mrs Mallis?’

  ‘I told you. I don’t see that it’s any of your bloody business!’

  ‘Oh, but I’m afraid it is, Mrs Mallis. Whether you like it or not. You are living in a house where murder has been committed and –’

  ‘You’re not implying that I might have had anything to do with it?’

  ‘We’re keeping an open mind at the moment.’

  ‘And what does that mean?’

  ‘Just what I say. You were here, in the house, when Mr Jeopard died –’

  ‘Along with about a hundred other people! Are you hounding them, too?’

  ‘Hounding? Oh come, Mrs Mallis, don’t you think that’s an exaggeration?’

  ‘No, I do not! You barge in here asking questions about my private affairs . . .’

  ‘About your salary, specifically. Now why should that upset you so much, I wonder?’

  She was silent for a moment, glaring at him. Then she said, ‘I just don’t see that it has anything to do with you.’

  ‘But I disagree, I’m afraid.’

  She said nothing, just waited, and he saw the muscles along her jawline ripple as she clenched her teeth.

  ‘You see, he said, ‘you present something of a mystery. And I’m afraid that we cannot afford to let mysteries go unsolved in a house where we’re investigating a murder.’

  Still no response.

  ‘We couldn’t help noticing, you see, that you seem to have rather an extravagant life-style for someone who lives on a housekeeper’s salary. One has only to look at you to see that you spend considerable sums of money on your appearance . . .’

  ‘I have no one else to spend it on,’ she said between clenched teeth. She was containing her anger with difficulty, restraining herself only because she wanted to know exactly what cards were in his hand.

  Thanet hoped the trump up his sleeve would catch her unprepared. ‘Also, Sergeant Lineham and I were surprised to see how luxurious your flat is.’

  ‘As you suggested, the Sylvesters are very generous employers,’ she said. ‘And they appreciate the service I give them. Ask them, they’ll tell you! They just want to make sure I stay, that’s all. So they provide me with a really nice flat. Big deal!’

  ‘Then there’s your car,’ said Thanet. ‘Sergeant Lineham is very interested in cars, aren’t you, Sergeant? You noticed it right away.’

  ‘I did,’ said Lineham, nodding. ‘Very nice, too.’

  ‘But a BMW convertible?’ said Thanet. ‘How much does a BMW convertible cost, Sergeant, do you know?’

  ‘I checked,’ said Lineham. ‘Around £26,000, for a K-reg. 325i in good condition, like Mrs Mallis’s. Probably more, if it has certain extras.’

  ‘Really? At least £26,000, then! As much as that! I wonder how many housekeepers could afford to spend so much on a car?’

  ‘There’s always hire-purchase, of course,’ said Lineham. Barbara Mallis opened her mouth, but before she could speak Lineham added, ‘Something we could easily check.’

  She shut it again.

  ‘True,’ said Thanet.

  She really was furious at being driven into a corner like this. Her hands curled into claws at her sides as if she would like to fly at Thanet and scratch his eyes out. With a violent movement she folded her arms across her chest, as if to try and hold her anger in. ‘If you must know,’ she spat out, ‘I bought that car with money I inherited from my father when he died a couple of years ago.’

  Got you! thought Thanet. ‘Really?’ he said. ‘How strange. I could have sworn that DC Martin said he’d actually spoken to – what was Mrs Mallis’s father’s name, Sergeant?’

  ‘Waycom.’

  ‘Yes, that’s it. Waycom. An usual name, wouldn’t you agree? Yes, I’m certain DC Martin said he was talking to him only yesterday. Er . . . Did you say something, ma’am?’

  She had gone white, then red. ‘How dare you!’ she said. ‘How dare you pry into my private life! You had no right!’

  ‘Every right, I’m afraid,’ said Thanet. ‘And the sooner you understand that the better.’ He leaned forward. ‘Look, Mrs Mallis, I don’t enjoy browbeating anyone . . .’

  ‘You could have fooled me!’

  ‘Well it’s true. I don’t.
But sometimes I am driven to it. You must admit you’re not exactly being cooperative. I’m not asking for details, just a general clarification of your financial position. All I want is the truth, pure and simple, then we’ll leave you in peace.’

  She stared at him, lips pressed together in a thin hard line.

  Would she give in?

  Thanet doubted it. She had nothing to lose, perhaps everything to gain, by remaining silent.

  Her eyes narrowed then suddenly she seemed to relax. She unfolded her arms and rested her hands lightly on the metal bar of the Aga behind her. Her lips curled in a malicious little smile. ‘Then you’ll have to go on wanting, won’t you, Inspector. And there’s not a thing you can do about it.’

  She was wrong, of course, but at the moment Thanet did not feel justified in pursuing the matter further. If it became necessary, he would do so. So he contented himself with lifting his hands in apparent defeat. ‘It’s up to you.’

  Back in the car Lineham said, ‘She’s got something to hide, no doubt about it.’

  ‘I agree. I’m just surprised she reacted so strongly. I’d have thought she’d realise that would make us even more suspicious.’

  ‘You caught her by suprise, I suppose.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  Back at Headquarters they ran into Doc Mallard hurrying down the stairs. He looked harassed.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Luke. I’m in a bit of a rush, I’m afraid. But I thought I’d just pop in to let you know the PM didn’t come up with anything unexpected. Jeopard died of asphyxia, drowning if you like, not from the blow on the temple. I expect the diatom test to confirm that.’

  ‘Remind me what that is.’

  ‘Sorry, I really haven’t got time to explain just now. Next time I see you, perhaps.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll look it up. Thanks for letting us know.’