Like False Money

by Penny Grubb

  ‘I’m coming with you.’

  ‘What? But…?’

  ‘You are going to Milesthorpe, aren’t you?’

  Annie could only nod as she felt for a second cup. She wanted to say, you can’t come with me, but, of course, Pat could go where she pleased.

  By the time they were on the road, Annie’s astonishment had dissolved. It felt good to have someone to share her thoughts and theories. They talked about Tremlow. The winding lanes on the approach to the village were easier to navigate because the roadside undergrowth had been cut and lay in yellowing heaps. They passed a small tractor that dragged a giant egg whisk behind it fluffing up the grasses as it went by and filling the car with the smell of fresh hay.

  Pat sneezed.

  Annie took advantage of one of Milesthorpe’s many loops and came at Doris Kitson’s road from the top so as not to pass her house and have their presence broadcast. She eased the car to a standstill and pointed between the houses.

  ‘That’s the crescent where Tremlow lives. There, can you see the scaffolding?’

  Pat nodded.

  They sat in silence. Annie kept her stare on the backs of the far houses. She could make out both Tremlow and his neighbour’s, but if there were anyone up on that scaffolding now, could she identify him?

  Sunlight hit the buildings with the white intensity that presaged a baking hot day. Milesthorpe’s few trees waggled their leaf-ends acknowledging the closeness of the sea and the constant breeze.

  ‘Well you’d certainly see someone from here,’ was Pat’s verdict.

  ‘But could you see who it was?’

  ‘Maybe. If it was someone I knew.’

  ‘In moonlight, not daylight?’ Annie tried to imagine the scene against a night sky. ‘Doris Kitson’s sharp as a knife, but she’s getting on. She wears glasses. He’d have been against the house wall and that would have been in darkness. I don’t think she had a cat in hell’s chance of seeing who it was.’

  ‘Security lights?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Annie felt foolish because she should have checked.

  ‘Let’s go and see.’

  ‘And if there aren’t?’

  ‘You want to have another go at Tremlow, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes. The sooner the better. I’m sure I can get him to talk.’

  *

  As she pulled up the car at Tremlow’s gate, Annie cast a doubtful look at the uneven path round the side of the house.

  ‘He seems to live in his kitchen round the back. Let me go and rouse him and I’ll let you in through the front door.’

  Annie left Pat struggling out of the car and made her way down the side path. The bushes that grew in the shadow of the house brushed their glistening leaves wetly against her. She took a few steps down the garden and turned back to the house which she raked with an intense stare. No sign even of a conventional outside bulb, let alone security lights that might have lit the next-door elevation. The colonel’s daughter’s house under the same inspection produced the same result. Annie felt a surge of triumph.

  Gotcha, Mr Charles Tremlow. You saw someone that night, someone you knew well enough to recognize in the dark. And it wasn’t Terry Martin. Now let’s find out who you’re covering for.

  She peered through the kitchen window. The room was empty, so she knocked a brisk tattoo on the door and waited. Had he seen her and decided to lie low? She wasn’t having that. He would come out and face her if she had to drag him.

  The door yielded to her and she stepped inside. The kitchen felt as empty as it looked. No trace of recent activity. No background smell of tea brewing or toast crisping.

  ‘Mr Tremlow,’ she called, surprising herself at a nervy edge to her voice.

  No answer.

  Triumph faded into apprehension as Annie crept through to the front of the house. Empty rooms greeted her. She looked for cups, used ashtrays, recent indentations in the cushions. Nothing. What was she to make of the unlocked door? He’d claimed he didn’t like to lock up, yet the day she’d visited with the colonel he’d been behind more bolts than a high security prison. She looked at the staircase, listened for any sound from above, and felt reluctance to ascend. Instead, she turned to the front door and pulled back the bolt. Pat stood at the gate and made her way down the small path as she saw Annie.

  ‘He’s not here. Not a sign. But I haven’t looked upstairs yet.’

  They made fleeting eye contact. ‘Go on up,’ Pat said. ‘I’ll wait here.’

  Annie climbed the stairs, all her senses alert and straining upwards. She listened for breathing or snores. Was there a trace of anything in the air? What was that stale smell? Would it burgeon into something more sinister? Would she find him up here huddled in a corner hiding from her … or something worse?

  The stairs led to a tiny landing and three closed doors. The first was a small bathroom that smelt sour and decayed. The next was a box room. A bed-frame and bare mattress sat beneath a pile of miscellaneous junk. No sign anything had been disturbed recently. The third room was bigger, clearly the master bedroom. An old-fashioned double bed fought for domination of the room with a dark wood wardrobe. A matching dressing-table stood across the window, its mirror blocking the sun, making the room oppressive and gloomy where it could have been airy and light.

  The bed was unmade, the sheets might once have been white. A constriction in her throat made Annie gulp to swallow as she stepped inside the room and pulled the wardrobe door open. Nothing more sinister than the smell of age greeted her.

  She felt certain now she was alone in the house and let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Out on the landing, she gave the ceiling a glance. A small square loft access hung above her, but she could see it hadn’t been used in months.

  Pat was in the open doorway as she came down.

  ‘No sign upstairs.’

  ‘I’ve just had a look in the garage. It’s empty. Does he have a car?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. I’m sure so. Doris Kitson mentioned it.’

  ‘He’s gone out. Leave everything as you found it. I daresay one of the neighbours’ll report us when he gets back. Put a card in the kitchen on your way out. Let’s see if he calls back. There’s no point pretending we weren’t here. No chance of hiding anything in Milesthorpe.’

  Unless, thought Annie, you’re Terry Martin and about to die. Then you can hide yourself for two whole days and a bit.

  ‘We could drop in on the colonel. He might know something.’

  ‘OK, go on your own. Casual visit. Just passing. That sort of thing. Take me to the other end of the footpath that runs along the back of the houses. I’ll see what I can find.’

  Annie didn’t like the idea of Pat stumbling about on an unmade path on her own. It was a long way from here to the nearest Accident & Emergency department. But she couldn’t voice her fears without sounding like a fussy elder sister so drove back to Doris Kitson’s road and searched for the access point. It came as a pleasant surprise, neatly marked with a metal bollard and tall sign that pointed down a long narrow stretch of tarmac.

  ‘Thought so,’ said Pat. ‘It’s the old railway. I won’t go far. Don’t be longer than ten minutes. I’m not supposed to stand on this thing too long.’

  There was no answer from the colonel’s house so Annie returned to the footpath a few minutes later and looked along to see where Pat had got to. The sun made a shiny ribbon of the smooth surface. A group of cyclists melted into the far distance as the path curved round out of sight. Walkers dotted the length of the track. Pat’s lopsided gait wasn’t hard to distinguish. She’d travelled a fair way, but was now heading back towards the car. Between her and Annie were two girls on ponies, their backs to Annie, heading towards Pat who hobbled awkwardly, head down.

  Annie was filled with a sudden certainty that they would knock their ponies into Pat as they passed her. She took in a breath to shout a greeting to Pat, to signal to the girls they were watched, but before she could make a soun
d, the two riders turned their ponies off the tarmac strip and made them pick their way in single file along the lumpy gravel that edged the path. It was Laura and Kay. Annie thought she recognized Boxer too. Kay’s mount, a fat orangey version of Laura’s was probably the one in the film who’d knocked Terry Martin down. Now she knew who they were it seemed natural they should have given Pat right of way. If Mally had been with them maybe it would have been different.

  Unfinished business there. What had they done for Terry Martin? He’d had the film for blackmail and money for bribes.

  As Pat reached her, Annie said, ‘The colonel wasn’t in. Did you notice two girls on ponies go past you just now. They’re the ones who cheated on Terry Martin’s film.’

  Pat glanced back, then, with laboured breathing and grunts of effort, tottered the last few steps and hoisted herself into the car where she slumped into the seat with an enormous sigh. ‘Christ! That was hard going. So your other old man wasn’t home either. I doubt I made it far enough down that track. You’ll need to have a look later.’

  Annie wasn’t sure it mattered anymore. Doris’s eyes couldn’t be good enough to make out Terry Martin at night against that wall: Tremlow was the key.

  ‘Walk it through sometime.’ Pat lay back, eyes closed, clearly exhausted. ‘Details matter. Never forget that. But next week’s soon enough. Let’s get home.’

  As Annie reached for the key her phone rang. She looked at the screen and turned to Pat in surprise. ‘It’s Colonel Ludgrove.’

  ‘Awfully sorry I missed you. Saw you walk away and couldn’t get to the door in time. Can’t think how I missed your knock, but the ears are not as sharp as they were. Do pop back. I’m not too late, am I? Took me a while to find that card you left. Young Mel’s been looking for something on the telephone table and you can imagine the chaos.’ He gave a laugh under which Annie heard a note of defeat.

  ‘Well, actually I was just on my way back to town. It wasn’t anything important. I was just passing.’

  ‘No, please. I’ll feel I’ve offended you. Ignoring a visitor. Can’t think how it happened.’

  Annie turned a helpless look to Pat who signalled an OK gesture.

  ‘Fine, I’ll be a couple of minutes. But I really can’t stay long.’

  Annie pulled up the car out of sight of the colonel’s house. ‘I’ll park here,’ she said. ‘So he doesn’t see the car and hassle for us both to come in.’

  Pat nodded. ‘Suits me. I’ve had my exercise for the day.’

  ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  ‘Don’t cut it short on my account. See if you can get anything out of him about Tremlow.’

  When Annie saw the colonel she had no difficulty understanding why he’d missed her the first time although he carried on apologizing all the way to the living room as he waved her to a chair. His face was drawn, his hair tousled. The crisp military neatness she remembered was replaced with crumpled clothes and an air of neglect. He almost looked as though he’d just finished some vigorous exercise, but had clearly been asleep and didn’t want to admit to it. It didn’t seem fair to start straight in on an interrogation about Tremlow so she asked at random, ‘Have you managed to contact your daughter yet?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ll be frank with you. It’s becoming a bit of a strain. I’m not saying a word against young Mel. She’s a good girl, but she’s a youngster and I’m not as young as I was. It’s a job keeping up with her at times. Now you’ve time for a quick cuppa before you rush off?’

  ‘Well, really I shouldn’t …’

  ‘I won’t take no. Don’t worry, it’s already in the pot brewing.’ As he spoke, the colonel turned and headed for the door. Annie listened to his footsteps recede down the lino of the hallway. He called out something, the words disjointed as they floated back to her. ‘… little nip … keep the cold out …’

  She sprang to her feet and followed him to a big kitchen. He stood in front of two steaming cups and twisted the top off a brandy bottle.

  ‘No, Colonel, I can’t. I’m driving.’

  ‘Just a small one to keep the cold out?’ There was a pleading tone in his voice. She felt desperately sorry for him. Mally must be giving him hell.

  ‘No, really, I mustn’t. My boss is waiting in the car outside.’ It was a risk that she’d now have to fight against Pat being dragged inside, but she couldn’t abide the taste of brandy and the thought of it in tea made her feel ill.

  ‘Ah, I see.’ The colonel gave her a conspiratorial look. ‘Don’t want him smelling it on your breath. Quite understand. Ah, well. Tea’ll be welcome anyway.’

  ‘Don’t let me stop you,’ Annie said, as he put the bottle aside unopened.

  He laughed. ‘Drink on my own during the day? Good heavens no. That’s the slippery path.’

  Annie smiled and pretended to believe him. No mystery now why he’d slept so soundly. She wondered if he’d been much of a drinker before he’d had to cope with Mally.

  ‘I called in really to know if you’d seen Mr Tremlow. He wasn’t in.’

  ‘Not sure where he’ll be. I think Doris said she’d seen him driving out of the village.’

  Annie made a move to carry the two cups through, but he waved her aside and took them himself. ‘Was there anything special you wanted him for?’

  ‘Yes, there was. Did you know that Terry Martin had been blackmailing him?’

  ‘Good Lord! I’d no idea. Why didn’t he tell me? I’d have sorted the blighter out. What was it about?’

  ‘I was hoping you’d tell me.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ He paused in thought. ‘It must have been the business with his wife. Bad business. She ran off with a travelling salesman.’

  ‘I thought that was years ago.’

  ‘It was. Hasn’t lessened the shame for poor Charles, I’m afraid. He hates the idea of people knowing. I expect the young chap threatened to put something in the newspapers. Not that people these days care a fig for that sort of thing. Been through it myself with the daughter. Not pleasant, but you take it on the chin.’

  Annie hoped she wasn’t about to make a big mistake. ‘There’s something else, Colonel. I’m afraid it looks as though Mr Tremlow lied about the night Terry Martin died.’

  ‘Good Lord! Charles lied? What do you mean?’

  She outlined her theory that Tremlow had seen someone else up on the scaffolding. ‘Mrs Kitson saw someone up there, but she couldn’t have seen who it was. We’ve just been to check. And Terry Martin was drunk, really drunk. I’m not sure he was up there at all.’

  ‘No no, you’re wrong about that.’The colonel looked puzzled. ‘Well, I see what you mean. Yes, Charles was a bit cagey but …’ He picked up his tea, stared into the depths of the cup with a wistful look that Annie read as regret for the lack of brandy, and put it down untouched. Then he sat upright and nodded decisively. ‘Yes, I can see it now. You’re absolutely right. Of course he didn’t see anyone up there. He’s vain. It’s his downfall. He heard Doris’s account and adopted it for his own. Blind as a bat at night. He wouldn’t have stopped to get his spectacles. He was in a panic. When he was out there he wouldn’t have seen a thing.’

  ‘The police told me he locked himself in his house.’

  ‘I believe he did after he’d rung me, but he told me he’d been out there. You see, he thought it was a neighbour’s dog come to dig up his border. Bane of his life those dogs.’

  ‘So it could have been someone else that Mrs Kitson saw up there?’

  ‘No no. It was the Martin chap all right. I saw him myself from the bottom of the path. Land drops away. Look up from there and that whole contraption they’ve set up stands out against the sky.’

  Annie felt deflated. He was right. From the top of the path where Doris had seen him, he’d have been in darkness, but from nearby, not only was the angle steeper, the colonel would have been close enough to see exactly who was up there. She remembered how the branches parted to allow a small but clear view of the scaffol
ding tower.

  ‘And there was no one else up there?’

  ‘No. He was on his own.’

  ‘You didn’t see him fall?’

  ‘Well, no. That would have happened when I was at the back coming up towards the garden. You can’t see from there because of the bushes.’

  Annie knew just where he meant. ‘Did you hear anything? Doris Kitson said she heard the crash.’

  The colonel looked embarrassed. ‘Afraid I can’t say for certain. Some of that undergrowth is very tangled and the hearing isn’t what it was.’

  That was that. Annie mentally berated herself for a stab of disappointment. Far better that it had been a simple fall. Her gaze strayed to the window that looked over the churned grass, the concrete blocks and wooden poles where Mally had coached Laura and Kay on their ponies. ‘They’ve made a real mess of your lawn,’ she observed, thinking of Terry Martin and forgetting about Mally’s cheating. She could have bitten through her tongue the moment the words were out, but the colonel smiled.

  ‘She’s a little scamp at times. But she had those two girls up and down by that hedge; over that contraption I don’t know how many times. The poor beasts must have been jumping it in their sleep by the time she’d finished. Did the trick though, didn’t it?’

  Annie let out the breath she’d been holding. She didn’t know what action Tina might take over the cheating but thankfully nothing had reached the colonel yet. No way would she be the one to break it to him.

  He still hadn’t touched his tea. She suspected the brandy bottle would be out again the moment she left. In fact, she sensed he wanted her gone now. Probably he wanted some rest before Mally turned up. Time to go and tell Pat that the Terry Martin theory was in tatters. She downed the last of her tea and stood up. The colonel made no move to stop her.

  CHAPTER 17

  SCOTT DROVE HER west then north showing her parts of the city she hadn’t seen before. Evidence of a seafaring past was mostly marked as symbols integral to new buildings. Circular windows in modern façades flashed the sun’s light back at the city. A modern pub in a housing estate lay on the site of the real Timber Dock where, years ago, he told her, huge logs floated submerged until seasoned and ready for use.