‘How long had this been planned?’
‘Four or five months, I ran in to him quite by chance, he was down here to look at some equipment that the Brymon people were selling off. We went for lunch in Wadebridge and he told me about the venture. His family are booksellers, he’s a partner in the firm, but he’s always been mad keen on flying, he’s owned an air freight business for some years and now, somehow, he’s managed to secure a route into the Soviet Union, his is the first company to do so. They fly out of the old Fradley aerodrome, when he started up it was just him and the pilot and the pilot’s wife and cat all sharing this little bungalow beside the runway. Barney remembered that I’d studied Russian at university and he mentioned, half-jokingly, that if ever I needed a job I knew where to come … God, I can tell you, I sat there in that dining room at the Molesworth Arms and I knew that it was the answer to our prayers. After lunch we drove out to Padstow and we sat on a bench by the harbour and talked it all through. I told Barney everything, all about Amanda, about my marriage, the estate, everything. He made it all so simple for me. We agreed that I would do a lot of travelling across the Soviet Bloc, I would develop contacts, act as the company representative, and Amanda would travel with me as Girl Friday.’
‘And did Amanda like the idea?’
‘She was as delighted as I was, maybe even more so, if that’s possible. She said it was meant to be, she said that flying was in her blood after all …’
‘And you went to meet Barnabas Toms on Tuesday?’
‘Yes, I had some papers to sign. He has an office on Charing Cross Road, up above the bookshop. Afterwards he insisted that we went to Kettner’s to celebrate.’
‘Was it just the two of you?’
‘Yes. Well at first it was, then Barney spotted a friend of his and called him over and said why didn’t he join us for the pudding,’
‘And what was the friend’s name?’
‘John,’
‘Just John?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid I don’t remember his surname, actually I’m not sure that he gave it. There seemed to be some in joke between them, about Sherwood Forest or maybe the Sherwood Foresters, I don’t know, I was quite tired by then and the champagne had been flowing …’
‘How long did you stay at the restaurant?’
‘I left at about eleven, they suggested going on to a club, but I excused myself, I wanted to make an early start in the morning … to get back, Amanda had said there was something she was longing to tell me about, she said she wanted to wait until everything was settled with Barney …’
‘What did you do when you left Kettner’s?’
‘I got a cab back to my aunt’s, she lives in Kensington, round behind the Albert Hall, I stay there, when I’m in London …’
‘We will need to speak to Mr Toms, and to your aunt.’
‘My aunt wasn’t there, but when she’s away, but I pick up a key from Gaston, the porter.’
‘And the porter saw you on Tuesday night?’
He nodded and then, apologising, he yawned again. Monica and the sergeant exchanged looks and then she said
‘Mr Haig-Mercer, there is something else I feel I ought to tell you, something Miss Shute may not have had the chance to make you aware of.’
He glanced at her, his eyes were dull with weariness, ‘What is it?’
‘Mr Haig-Mercer, if you weren’t already aware of what I am about to tell you, I fear that it may cause you more distress,’
‘Whatever is it?’
‘Our pathologist has confirmed that Miss Shute was pregnant, between three and four months. I’m very sorry, sir,’
It seemed to them both that he reacted in slow motion, moving his head from side to side and gazing at them each in turn, as if for confirmation of what had passed, then he let out a howl of grief and rage and disbelief. It was a sound primal in its intensity. Monica stood up and beckoned to Lydia Lyons who stood on the stairs, stricken with concern and an urge to console. The secretary came forward and placed her hands on her employer’s shoulders and he rested his face against the trellis pattern of her dress and began to sob in long, heaving shudders. She held his head and from time to time her plump white hand touched over his skull as though it might be something breakable. ‘There, there, Nicholas,’ she murmured, and repeated ‘There, there.’
Monica said ‘We will leave you now, but we will need to come back. Try and keep things here, would you – rather than at the house,’
Lydia Lyons understood what she meant and without looking up from her charge she nodded.
As they entered the duty room Ellery was finishing a telephone call.
‘The boy Julian, M’am, he’s turned up. He didn’t get very far – he was at his auntie’s over Par way, had his cousin hiding him in her bedroom. Auntie found out and rang the boy’s mother, she’s just been and fetched him back.’
‘Right, tell her I want him brought into the station within the hour, we’ll go there and interview him. Don’t let it go public yet, but ring the Chief Constable’s office, we might as well put him out of his misery, let him know that I haven’t embroiled him in a police-cause-tragic-death-of- promising-teenager headline.’
‘Very good M’am’.
On the threshold of the interview room at Newquay police station Monica paused to check that she had everything that she needed. How many times, she wondered, had she begun an interview in such a way, composing herself before opening the door onto a room lit by a fluorescent strip or by squares of disproportionately distant daylight. And as she opened the door, the still figures in the room would come alive, caught in the act of being caught in the act, looking out at her from their mise en scène with pugnacity or hopefulness, weariness or resignation. Some even smiled. Robert Julian was slumped and sulky beside his mother. His brown fringe had flopped over his eyes. When she tried to tidy it to one side he flinched irritably and batted her hand away.
The sergeant sat down heavily on the chair opposite Robert, ‘Right my boy, and let’s make sure we have the truth, all right?’
‘I will be arranging a solicitor,’ said Paula Julian.
‘That’s up to you,’ replied the sergeant.
Monica took her seat at the desk. Aware that the boy was watching slyly from under his fringe she laid out the files and notepad and pen with slow deliberation. Each of them could hear the sounds from other parts of the station – footsteps, a hoot of laughter, a telephone ringing on unanswered.
‘Why did you run away, Robert?’ she asked.
He hesitated, lifting a hand to inspect his knuckles. His mother nudged him to speak.
‘She said she’d get you to lock me up.’
‘Who said that, Robert?’
He hesitated again.
‘Robert?’
‘Go on, tell her,’ said his mother, ‘We got to get this sorted out now.’
‘Rudy’s mum, Mrs Gerstmann, she said it.’
‘Why did she tell you that you would be locked up?’
He sighed and moved on the chair and then he lifted his head.
‘I had photos.’
‘What photos?’
‘Pictures of him next door.’
‘Who, Graham Jarvis?’
He nodded.
‘And what was Graham Jarvis doing in the photos?’
‘He was with her.’
‘Who’s her, Amanda Shute?’
‘Not them ones, no, it was pictures of him and Rudy’s mum, together like.’
‘What were they doing, in the photos?’
Momentarily a grin appeared on the boy’s face, he looked towards the sergeant who stared back, solid and impassive, ‘It,’ he said, ‘You know, they were doing it.’
‘You took photos of Graham Jarvis and Mrs Gerstmann in bed together?’
‘Yeah, but they weren’t in bed exactly, they were in his living room, and on the stairs and that.’
‘How did you manage to take such photos, Robert, without being seen?’
<
br /> ‘There’s a loft over the shed in Mrs Reeks’ garden, across the road, I go in there, my camera’s got a telescopic lens.’
‘Mrs Reeks … Robert!’ his mother began but Monica silenced her with a look.
‘I thought the magistrate ordered that your camera and equipment was seized.’
He shrugged ‘Dad sends me money, I got another one, and anyway, I can borrow any stuff I need from college.’
‘How did Mrs Gerstmann know that you had these photographs?’
‘He told her, Rudy,’
‘And how did Rudy know? Was he with you when you took them?’
He looked surprised ‘No, that’d be kinky, his mum …’
‘Presupposing that what you have been doing overall isn’t kinky, I suppose. Anyway, Robert, setting that aside, how did Rudy know that you had these photos?’
‘I told him. He phoned me up, when he heard about what had happened to her, Amanda, and he was laughing, saying he was going to tell the police about pictures I had taken of her. They weren’t nothing bad, she used to go out in the garden to dry her hair, after she’d had a shower. You couldn’t see anything, she always put his bathrobe on. I said to Rudy that if he told the police about the photos of Mandy then I’d tell them that his mum was there, with Jarvis, on Tuesday night and that I’d give them the pictures I had of them both together. That shut him up.’
‘What happened then?’
‘Nothing at first, he put the phone down but then later on he rang up again and he said that if I went over there, to the Old Parsonage, and gave him all the photos of his mum, he’d give me money for them.’
‘How much money?’
‘Five hundred pounds.’
‘I see, and did you go to meet him?’
‘I went but I couldn’t see him. He said I was to wait for him in the garden, I hung about a bit and then she come at me out of the darkness, his mother. She was all dressed up in black.’
‘Witch,’ said Paula Julian.
‘What did Mrs Gerstmann say to you, Robert?’
‘She said if I told anyone about the photos she had lawyers who could get put me in Borstal straight off…’ he fidgeted.
‘What else did she say, Robert?’
‘She called me a pervert, she said that I had something wrong with me and that because of what I’d done, people would come after my mum as well.’
‘Oh Robert…’ Paula Julian exclaimed. Like a point duty signal, Monica held up a hand to warn her to be silent,
‘And so, did you give her the photos?’
‘She made me hand them over.’
‘And did she give you the money?’
‘She give me an envelope, she said I could have the rest later, when she was sure I was keeping my side of the bargain. When I got home and looked there was only fifty pound in it.’
‘Robert …’ his mother began again to remonstrate.
‘What?’ he looked at her defiantly.
‘Right,’ said Monica, ‘Sergeant Bee here will arrange for a team of officers to come and search your home, Mrs Julian, I imagine that under the circumstances you will have no objections?’
A patrol car was sent with orders to bring Maria Gerstmann to the incident room. When Monica returned to the base only one airman was on duty at the main gate.
‘War’s over,’ said Ellery, ‘Apparently they’re having what they call their wash up now, then later on the CO’s going to do a broadcast.’
‘I wonder who won. Anyway, WPC Jones, can you go and make sure that the empty office is clear for interviewing Maria Gerstmann? I’m having her brought here rather than the station, I want her to guess that we know about Jarvis and that we have him in close proximity too. Also, if she brings in her solicitor, there’ll be a delay while he tries to get on site. Oh, and I’d like you to sit in on the interview with me, it will be good experience.’
The men made faces at Jones when Monica’s back was turned. One of them called her ‘teacher’s pet.’
As she was escorted to the office, Maria Gerstmann was wearing a large pair of dark glasses. When she sat down she removed the glasses but kept them in one hand, the arms still extended. Her dress, cut like a safari jacket, was made of light brown silk.
‘So, Mrs Gerstmann, you have been having an affair with Graham Jarvis?’
She smiled ‘I suppose you disapprove, Inspector?’
‘It’s not for me to approve or disapprove. My only concern is with the investigation of the murder of a young woman that you both knew, Graham Jarvis intimately so. I now believe that you both lied when questioned earlier. Your manager has told my sergeant that you instructed him to close up early on Tuesday night. Why was that?’
She did not reply. Monica continued ‘Were you taking advantage of your husband being away? Did you want to close early that so that you could visit Jarvis?’
‘I did go over to Trevarrian, yes.’
‘So, you lied about your whereabouts on Tuesday evening, as did Jarvis.’
She gave a little shrug.
‘If I were in your position I wouldn’t be quite so dismissive, Mrs Gerstmann. How long did you stay with Jarvis?’
‘I stayed until Graham had to leave for the base.’
‘What time was that?’
‘About half past four,’
‘What about your husband, Mrs Gerstmann?’
‘My husband, as I am sure you will already know, was on the overnight sleeper from Paddington.’
Monica smiled, ‘That wasn’t quite what I meant,’ still smiling, she concentrated on her note pad and filled several lines rapidly. Maria Gerstmann flicked closed one arm of the dark glasses. ‘Yes, okay, I have lied, that was … misguided,’ she sighed, ‘Look, allow me to explain, Inspector. My husband, Conrad, and I, we do not have a … complete marriage anymore. Conrad suffers from what I believe you English picturesquely call brewer’s droop. Graham Jarvis and I … we enjoy a civilised adult relationship. We would have continued to do so, without hurting anyone, if it hadn’t been for that boy …’
‘And for what happened to Amanda Shute, perhaps,’
Again, she shrugged her shoulders. There was an edge to Monica’s voice as she said ‘It is interesting to see how lightly you can treat the death of Miss Shute, Mrs Gerstmann. You say you left Jarvis at half past four, did he drive you home?’
‘No, when I visit him I drive myself, there’s a lay-by some distance away, I leave my car there and then I walk to his house.’
‘Were you together all the time?’
‘Of course.’
‘But, given the clandestine nature of your affair, only you two can vouch for each other?’
‘We two, and maybe that little voyeur next door.’
‘Robert Julian, yes, but as we already know that you have given him money to conceal evidence, Mrs Gerstmann, you surely wouldn’t expect us to rely on his testimony as far as your alibi is concerned?’
She folded in the other arm of the glasses and turned them over in her hand.
‘It was hardly evidence that he had, it was private photographs,’
‘As far as I’m concerned, in a murder investigation anything and everything is evidence, no matter how private or potentially embarrassing. So, by the time your husband returned you were safely at home again, is that right?’
‘Yes,’
‘Were you still in bed?’
‘No, I was about to have breakfast. Conrad returned, we had breakfast together, we went through the post and the day book, he was just going up to take a bath when the phone call came, from Marilyn,’
‘How long has your affair with Graham Jarvis affair been going on?’
‘Almost two years, a little more maybe,’
‘Two years – so, you were conducting this affair while Jarvis was seeing his other girlfriends - at least two other, younger, girlfriends?’
‘For sure.’
‘Did Amanda know?’
She laughed contemptuously, ‘Her! Of course not
, the little fool was so arrogant that it would never have occurred to her that she couldn’t give him all he wanted. It was actually quite amusing to watch her, sneaking off early to meet him. She was so sure she could have exclusively any man she wanted and that he would be utterly faithful. She had a lot to learn, that young woman.’
‘And what about your husband, did he know?’
‘He did not know … the details. I think he may have been aware that there has been someone, from time to time.’
‘Well, he will know the details now, won’t he – when his wife is charged with perverting the course of justice and corrupting a minor.’
‘I don’t wish to say anymore without my solicitor.’
‘That’s fine. You will attend Newquay police station tomorrow at a time to be appointed, you may have a legal representative in attendance. For now, I have what I need. A car will take you home, I expect you will have a lot to talk about, with your husband.’
When WPC Jones returned to the main office DC Toy asked ‘So, what’s she like then, the boss, when she’s conducting an interview?’
‘She’s tough all right, she doesn’t show any mercy. And she was going on at her in there about the affair she’s been having, taking the moral high ground.’
‘Is that a fact? From what we’ve heard the boss lady has no right to cast any stones as far as a bit on the side is concerned.’
‘What do you mean?’
Toy smiled ‘Tell you when you’re twenty-one, but the watch word is Sunningdale.’
He turned back and could not be entirely sure that Monica, now standing in the door way, had not heard him.
‘Isn’t Jarvis here yet?’ she asked.
‘On his way apparently M’am, but there’s got to be a bit of a hiatus while the station commander does his broadcast. Oh, here we go …’
As he spoke there was a rustling of disturbance from the Tannoy speaker. The station commander’s voice sounded strained. He began his address by announcing that he had to say that he was not best pleased.
‘With the exception of a few valiant pockets of resistance, I have to tell you that this station’s performance was abysmal. I am not going to itemise the failings of every single flight, frankly it would take too long and we all have better things to do. I will, however, pick out a few notable examples: the several small fires that were started at Nimrod Line Flight – surely the airmen on picquet duty could have come up with some method of dousing a fire when an extinguisher is not immediately to hand…’
The Trebelzue Gate Page 19
