Ring of Guilt

by Judith Cutler

  ‘You think it’ll come to that?’

  ‘I certainly hope so. You see, I think your colleagues will find something interesting when they examine that bowl. Or rather, not find. They won’t find my prints, for a start. I made sure I never touched it. And I’d be surprised if they find a price label. Because I don’t think that it came off any of the stalls here. I’d have noticed something like that. I think the idea of accusing me of stealing another item fell flat, so they had to rush in with another one.’

  ‘That’d be the pendant your friend DI Morris was talking about. The one you said you’d sold and given the money to the rightful owner.’

  ‘Right. Here’s the receipt. As you can see, it’s a bit more detailed than you might expect. Belt and braces.’

  Steve looked at me with narrowed eyes, but more as if he was sympathizing with me than accusing me. ‘And hands in pockets, I’d say. So the person I have to speak to is whoever runs Pretty Lady. No? What have I said?’

  The obvious, really. ‘Just make sure no one else is around when you do. I think her husband beats her . . .’

  ‘I’ll get a woman colleague on to it. Very discreetly. What’s her name?’

  ‘Dilly Pargetter. But she specializes in jewellery, not china.’ My protest was feeble. I wanted it to be overridden.

  ‘Which makes it all the more likely that if she or anyone else connected with her planted that bowl, it was a deliberate act. And if it wasn’t one of her contacts, it puts her in the clear.’

  I took several deep breaths, not because I was afraid of going wild with my fists, but because I was looking for a bit of bravery lurking somewhere inside. ‘What if I had a word and got her to – well, come to you people and confess? If there’s anything to confess, of course.’

  ‘Can you fix it so I can overhear?’

  I shook my head. ‘Seems too much like spying. I’m not a cop, remember. Just an acquaintance. In any case, the usual place women for women to have their heart to hearts is the ladies’ loo.’

  Josie, the woman who had the stall next to Dilly’s, and who dealt with any would-be customers, was an old friend of mine. Each time I saw her she’d shrunk a little more; each time she insisted that this was her last fair. Frowning, she said she’d not seen Dilly for half an hour or more, when she slipped off to get a coffee. As far as she knew she’d gone on her own.

  ‘And with that husband of hers, she wouldn’t dare do anything different. Great thug. Poor child pretends she’s walked into doors or fallen down the stairs. I tell her, get the law on him. But then, he is the law, isn’t he?’

  ‘I’ve never met him,’ I said. ‘What’s he like?’

  ‘A total sweetie, you’d think. Butter wouldn’t melt. And can he turn on the charm? He’d have all the ducks off the water before you can say orange sauce. You can see why she won’t leave him.’

  ‘Has she tried?’

  ‘Three or four times. But she always goes back. They do, you know.’

  ‘But she should report him to the police—’

  ‘D’you suppose they’d take any notice? Look after their own, don’t they? Now, where’s young Griff . . .’

  I explained, trying not to upset her by edging away too quickly. But at last I came straight out with it. ‘I’m worried about Dilly, you know. I’ll go and have a look for her. And if he’s hurt her, I might just dob in PC Pargetter myself.’

  ‘PC . . . Oh, you mean the inspector. And he’s not called Pargetter. She’s really Mrs . . . now what is it? Mrs Mason, that’s it. And you want to be careful not to make things worse, luvvie. He’s a big bloke.’

  So he was big. ‘Does he have a hoodie and pair of shades in his wardrobe?’

  ‘Not exactly in his wardrobe, silly – not when he’s wearing them!’

  There was no sign of anyone in the rather overblown ladies’ cloakroom, which had gone wild with a rose motif – wallpaper, carpet, even the tissues and hand towels. But one of the doors was shut. Shut but not locked from inside. Not that I could budge it much. And then I realized one of the huge pink roses was redder than it should have been.

  Jabbing 999 on my mobile, I ran outside and screamed for help. The emergency switchboard responded more quickly than the people milling round – perhaps they thought I’d cried wolf earlier. When at last people started to take notice, Steve was the first to come running. I dodged back inside. There were no gaps under the cubicle walls I could crawl under, and I was too short to see over the walls, let alone scale them. All the time the blood stained the roses more deeply.

  It seemed hours before they came, but soon the room was full of emergency workers, and for once I was happy to be jostled to the back. In fact, I actually retreated, quite fast, to use my phone. ‘Will? What does the name Mason mean to you? Inspector Mason? Because some time soon someone’s going to tell him his wife’s badly hurt. Only it might not be news to him, if you see what I mean.’

  ‘Slow down, Lina. I need to get this right. OK?’ Little by little Will extracted the information he needed. Soon I was talking to his boss, DCI Webb.

  ‘Is there any way,’ I asked, ‘that I can see his photo before anyone tells him about his wife?’

  ‘He’s not rostered for this weekend. He could be anywhere. But I can get a car over to collect you so you can look at his photo on file.’

  ‘I’ve had your people crawling all over my stand this afternoon.’ I explained. ‘My reputation’s in shreds.’

  ‘You’ve lost the immortal part of yourself, have you?’

  It was only because of Griff’s evenings with me reading plays aloud that I dimly recognized the quotation. There was something else, about being bestial, but I couldn’t recall it accurately. I just said, ‘I can’t go whizzing off in another police car. I won’t have a business left.’

  ‘OK. I’ll come out myself. If this Dilly’s been assaulted, then there’ll be a police presence anyway. And I’ll be in plain clothes. It’s very unfortunate that it had to be you that found her. Actually I bet there’s a nice fat rumour around that it’s you who did it.’

  ‘That’s not funny,’ I said.

  ‘It’s not a joke.’

  TWENTY-FOUR

  I looked at the photo DCI Webb laid on the display cabinet in front of me.

  Wearing a fleece and jeans, she’d arrived as unobtrusively as a woman with her hair could be expected to arrive, and had done an impressively slow circuit, as if she was a genuine punter checking out each stall. She’d come to a halt in front of my stall, and was pretending to be attracted by a piece of Crown Derby that clashed something shocking with that hair. At least, I hoped she really was only pretending. It was a very vulgar piece.

  ‘The face in that photo could well be the face of the man I thought was lying dead in that field, and then thought was tailgating me,’ I said slowly. ‘But I suppose it’s not against the law to lie in a field or to chase a slo-mo motorist. Beating your wife’s a different matter though. Allegedly beating,’ I corrected myself before DCI Webb could open her mouth. ‘Or are you saying she injured herself? Whichever, there was an awful lot of blood,’ I mused.

  A frown appeared between her eyebrows – she’d done her best to tone down the orange with a brown pencil. The shutters came down. DCI Webb was not an officer I could pump, was she?

  ‘If you want someone to pack away her stall, I’d suggest Josie, that tiny woman who’s next to her. Everyone knows she’s as honest as the day. She’ll be a mine of information too.’ I added bitterly, ‘This time I’m not offering my own services.’

  Nodding, she didn’t even need to make a note. ‘It’ll have to be done under supervision, because we’ll want to make a list of every single item on the stall. I’ll get one of the uniform lads to have a word with her.’ A quick mobile call and she focused on me again. ‘DI Morris tells me you’re in a very awkward position, Ms Townend.’

  I was impressed: there was no need to correct her this time. I smiled. ‘Lina. Short for Evelina. Those rings have b
rought nothing but bad luck, Ms Webb – if I believed in such a thing. But I’m not superstitious. I’m not very bright, and I’ve no education worth speaking of, but I can see humans at work here, not chance. Someone wants to destroy my reputation, and that way destroy my business – which took my partner years to build up.’

  Webb was staring at me. ‘Sit down. You need a coffee.’ She looked over her shoulder as a genuine punter drifted closer. ‘Don’t you have an assistant?’

  ‘Yes. She’s a witness. She’s busy talking to one of your colleagues about the strange appearance of a tea bowl on my stand.’

  ‘Ah, that witness. OK, I’ll come back and think about this,’ she added loudly, touching the Derby and drifting away.

  ‘No Griff?’ It was one of our regulars, who collected spectacle cases. She looked at me more closely. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, Lina?’

  ‘A bit shaken. Someone was ill in the loo. I found her.’

  ‘I can see that would explain the ambulance but why all those police?’

  ‘Another incident.’ But that wasn’t good enough for someone who’d spent so much money with us. She deserved the truth. ‘You’ll hear soon enough. Someone accused me of nicking a bit of china and trying to sell it.’

  ‘You’re joking! They should have tried accusing someone else – everyone knows you’re as honest as the day, you and Griff.’ Suddenly she stopped talking and gathered me up in a big hug. As she let me go, she added, ‘And so I shall tell anyone who says different. Now, I was looking for a little something for a sixtieth birthday present . . .’

  I phoned Griff to say I’d be late home because I’d been the one who’d found Dilly and the police wanted to take a statement. I was a bit vague about the timescale so he wouldn’t start asking questions. As for things I might want to ask him, they could wait.

  Since Mrs Walker was still presumably bending the ears of her interviewers, I packed away myself. It was hard, because I was still trembling, despite Webb’s strong coffee, or perhaps because of it. She hadn’t managed to find a better brew, but maybe it was she who produced a welcome sight – Will Kinnersley, who appeared by my side as I knelt by one of our plastic crates.

  ‘Here, leave that to me,’ he said, grabbing a pretty Spode plate as it slipped from my shaking hand.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I thought you could leave stuff in situ. Plenty of security guards, after all.’

  ‘I want to make sure the best stuff’s safe with me. And I want to make sure I get my stuff and not someone else’s.’

  ‘Yes. I heard. At least the lads did their best to put that right.’ He pointed to a flyer someone had trodden on.

  ‘What’s the news of Dilly?’

  ‘Not too good. Intensive care.’

  I sat back on my heels. ‘Did she self-harm or was someone else involved?’

  He didn’t answer; perhaps he didn’t need to. He looked at me with narrowed eyes. ‘I heard about that business with the pendant, too. And the call to Morris. It was he who got on to me, actually. He says you need looking after.’

  In the police or the personal sense? ‘Did he, now?’

  ‘He didn’t have time to explain – I gather his baby wanted to use the phone too.’

  I managed a smile. ‘There, I think that’s all. The rest can stay put.’

  He put out a hand to yank me to my feet. There was a long silence, then he said, all of a rush. ‘There’s a warrant out for Chris Mason.’

  ‘For wife beating? Or whatever the legal term is? And anything else?’

  ‘I can’t tell you any more than that.’

  ‘Where does he work?’ I asked, trying to sound innocent, but obviously not succeeding.

  ‘He’s in CID.’

  I had another try. ‘You didn’t answer my question about Dilly. If she dies, will you be – how do they out it on TV – looking for anyone else in connection with her death?’

  ‘I’m just an artefacts man – I’m not involved in the enquiry.’

  I might have smashed him over the head with a willow pattern plate if DCI Webb hadn’t arrived. ‘You might want to look at some CCTV pictures,’ she said.

  ‘I thought you were here in connection with the Dilly business,’ I replied. ‘And the not-body in the field.’

  ‘Female multitasking,’ she said with a smile that looked friendly. ‘Let’s get your things out of here, then security will take over here in the hall.’ She even picked up the box I’d packed. Will took our computer terminal, and I had my bag, an arrangement that felt all wrong. ‘I suggest these stay with you until someone can bring your van round.’

  ‘What about Mrs Walker? Though maybe she should see the CCTV footage.’

  ‘She’s already given us a great deal of help,’ Webb said. ‘And I’ve suggested that Mr Banner takes her home. This way, please.’

  She led us to the back of the hotel, where, in a pokey little room, someone had set up a few chairs and a video player. ‘What I propose is that I run the sets of CCTV footage without comment. You should interrupt if you see anything useful. Will, can you find a pot of tea? I can’t stand any more of that vile brew pretending to be coffee. Unless you’d rather he didn’t sit in?’ she added, as he left.

  ‘Fine by me. Does it mean all this ties in with his heritage work?’

  ‘It means I think you could do with some company.’

  ‘Is there any news of his friend, by the way? Colleague. Whatever. Bernie Winters. Will said he wasn’t well.’

  ‘Bernie Winters?’

  ‘I’m not winding you up. He’s got a proper name, only it’s gone.’ I pressed fingers to my head as if to massage my brain into action. At this point Will came in with a tea tray. Alongside some really unforgivable crock mugs was a pot of thick brown tea. Fortunately there was also a jug of hot water so I made myself some green tea with one of the bags I always had with me so there’d be no excuse for Griff to fall off the wagon. It also made me feel as if Griff wasn’t so far away.

  Webb turned away to take a call.

  ‘Will,’ I began, ‘that guy Winters – the one who interviewed me.’ Griff would have spotted that as a . . . a yew-something or other. Something ending with ism?

  Will grinned. ‘He doesn’t always lose it like that, Lina.’

  ‘I should hope not. I was just wondering how he was.’

  ‘Still off sick. Do you want me to send him your love?’

  ‘Hardly. He just seemed – unbalanced? As well as looking sick.’

  ‘Where’s this going?’ He wasn’t grinning any more.

  ‘OK,’ Webb said, so I didn’t have to respond. ‘To work. This footage here.’

  Had they already looked through it? Were they trying to make me incriminate myself? I was so proud of myself for getting the word right first time that I didn’t realize that this time the mobile phone singing away was mine.

  Blushing, I checked. ‘I’d like to take this, if you don’t mind.’ I stepped outside. ‘Harvey?’

  ‘Darling, are you all right? You sound a little rattled.’

  Darling! But then, I was used to Griff’s thespian friends who used the word all the time. ‘It’s been a bad day. Oh, an antiques fair near Ashford. Someone tried to top herself and I found her. And there was another problem, involving me and a stolen bowl.’

  ‘In that case, I’m on my way. I should be with you by midnight if I put my foot down.’

  I glowed. But then I had to say, ‘You don’t know how much I’d love to see you. But I’m on duty here tomorrow at this fair. Griff’s poorly and I couldn’t ask Mrs Walker—’

  ‘Indeed not. But if it’s just one day – surely you could just pack up and forget it.’

  ‘It’s not as simple as that. If people see me scuttle off, they’ll believe the allegations. It could ruin our business. So I have to be here, whether I want to or not.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Please don’t try to persuade me, Harvey. I’d give my teeth to see you, but I just mus
t be here. And now the police want to talk to me,’ I lied, so he wouldn’t hear the tears in my voice. ‘I must go.’

  If Webb noticed how upset I was, she said nothing.

  The footage was as grainy and jerky as you’d expect, but it didn’t take me long to see someone I’d love to have identified. ‘There. That guy in the hoodie and shades. He was helping Dilly set up. There you are – he’s got a box of her stuff.’

  Will stopped the tape. ‘Why does he look away from the camera each time he passes one?’

  ‘Because he knows exactly where each one is,’ I said tartly. ‘Hell, what a crude system. Ours is far more sophisticated than this. Better definition cameras and some that you wouldn’t know were there.’ I stopped grumbling and asked, ‘But how does he know where each one is? Has be been here before?’ And then something else occurred to me. ‘I take it Dilly’s too ill to ask who her muscle is? Oh, dear. But Josie suggested it was none other than her husband. I’m sure she’d confirm it. Question mark shaped lady,’ I added, but Webb didn’t look as if she needed the prompt.

  ‘I’ll get on to it.’ At least, she must have got a minion on to it, because she was back in the room in a flash, gesturing Will to press on.

  People came and went, people I knew well by sight and others I wouldn’t know from Adam. I had to shake my head. ‘Sorry. Nothing.’

  ‘Plenty of other footage. On you go, Will. What about the room Lina was in?’

  I thought I might have glimpsed Titus, but couldn’t be sure, because Titus always managed to look so ordinary and behave so naturally there was nothing to latch on to. But there were some genuine punters who’d stopped at my stall, which was unfortunately out of shot. At last I pointed. ‘Those three men. They were part of the bowl scam. Look, they’re heading out of the picture now. And while they were talking, someone slipped the bowl on the stall the far end.’

  ‘As Mrs Walker’s photos confirm,’ Webb agreed.

  ‘And soon after someone came charging over and said it was his. Middle-aged. Thickset. Accent from round here. If only we could find him and you could get a still to Josie. Yes . . . no . . . Yes! There. The man with his hands in his pockets.’