COVER THE LIES: A TREGUNNA CORNISH CRIME NOVEL

by Carla Vermaat

  ‘Of course.’ I’m not too pleased by with the interruption, but I daren’t put pressure on her to carry on with her story.

  ‘It took only two months before I was pregnant and this is the result. My little man, Charlie.’

  ‘You slept with the father of Susanna’s daughter?’ I ask incredulously. ‘With Tony?’

  ‘Well, not exactly.’ She blushes. ‘He would …’ She stops abruptly when the door opens and a young girl runs in, dropping a sports bag on the floor in the middle of the room.

  ‘Yvonne!’ A voice from the hallway shouts, half annoyed. ‘’Have you forgotten something?’

  I stare at the girl, who has jumped on the couch next to Billie and is cuddling her and the boy at the same time. I recognise her immediately from the photos: she is a younger version of Briony.

  ‘We have a visitor,’ Billie exclaims nervously, stroking the girl’s hair. ‘Say hello to Mr Tregunna, Yvonne.’

  The girl turns to see me looking at her and grins. Once more I’m struck by the resemblance.

  ‘Hello Mr Tregunna,’ she says politely.

  ‘Mr Tregunna is a detective inspector,’ Billie says carefully, omitting to say the word ‘police. He’s come to see you, Sue.’

  ‘Yes?’ She has short cropped hair, though not as short as Billie’s, a stud in the side of her nose and dark grey eyes.

  ‘It’s about a photo,’ Billie says uncomfortably, in her eyes a warning that Yvonne is looking and listening.

  ‘He came to ask about … who did you say, Mr Tregunna?’

  The woman in the doorway hasn’t moved. Although she reminded her daughter about her manners, she hasn’t made a move to greet me properly herself.

  ‘Trevor Bennett,’ I say.

  ‘Who?’ There is genuine surprise on her face and consequently, she relaxes a bit.

  ‘I’ll get you some tea, Sue.’ Slowly not to wake the boy, Billie rises to her feet, grabbing Yvonne’s arm with her free hand. ‘Will you help me, Yvonne? Charlie is asleep, so I could do with a bit of help.’ Diplomatically she moves to the kitchen, pushing the girl in front of her. She doesn’t offer to get me more tea, clearly hoping that I will ask Susanna my questions, and then leave.

  I explain to Susanna about the investigation and I can see on her face that her confusion is only growing. ‘I’m sorry that I have to ask you. Mrs Keogh, but is Trevor Bennett the father of your daughter?’

  ‘I don’t know anyone with that name.’

  I show her the photo of Briony and she is shocked by the likeness. ‘Who is this? Is this a joke?’

  ‘Her name is Briony. She is nine years old and she is the daughter of the woman I have just told you about. Her father is Trevor Bennett and … well, you can see how much the girls are alike. I was just wondering if Briony and Yvonne might have the same father.’

  ‘How did you find us?’ In the circumstances, I think that her reaction is rather odd. If she doesn’t know Trevor, or Alicia, why not ask me who they are?

  ‘Someone who came forward in our investigation mentioned the resemblance between Briony and your daughter,’ I reply vaguely.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you.’

  ‘It wasn’t him? The man you just mentioned?’

  ‘Who? Trevor? No, I haven’t spoken to him about this but I’m going to do that later.’ I’m not really looking forward to another meeting with Bennett. Somehow, I know that he won’t be pleased by the latest discoveries at all.

  ‘No, no. I don’t mean the man you call Trevor. I mean … Sorry.’ She realises that she’s nearly said too much. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You can’t what?’

  ‘Nothing. I don’t know anyone called Trevor Bennett.’

  ‘You are saying he is not Yvonne’s father?’

  ‘Definitely not. Now, please inspector, leave us alone.’

  30

  According to his assistant in the warehouse, Trevor has taken the afternoon off. Assuming that he will already have left his work by the time I get to the Liskeard area, I drive to his home. A tatty old Peugeot is parked on the drive and in front of the house is a dark grey Citroen Picasso. I park behind it.

  ‘Is your husband in?’ Maureen Bennett’s eyes are red and she clasps her neck with one hand. The other hand, holding the edge of the door, has a balled handkerchief in it.

  I stare at her, knowing instantly that something is wrong. ‘Are you all right, Mrs Bennett?’

  ‘What happened? Is Trevor alright?’ Panic makes her voice high and tinny.

  I force a smile. ‘Are you alright?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes, of course … I just got home.’ Somehow, she seems to find reassurance on my face. She relaxes and her shoulders drop. ‘I had a phone call from Alfie’s school. They said that something happened to him in the PE lesson. I thought that he must have had a fall or something like that, so I dropped everything and drove to the school. But when I arrived there … it was weird. Nothing had happened. They seemed surprised that I was there in the first place.’ She sniffs and wipes her nose with the handkerchief. ‘It then became clear to me that they … I mean the people from the school, hadn’t called me.’

  ‘Did you see your son? Was he okay?’

  ‘Oh, I did see Alfie but he was with his friends. He looked perfectly okay and I thought I’d better not bother him with my worries.’

  ‘Worries?’

  ‘About that phone call.’ She shakes her head as if she’s trying to make sense of it again. ‘It must have been someone’s idea of a bad joke.’

  I nod, not at all convinced. Why would someone scare a mother like that? Why her?

  ‘Did you speak to the PE teacher?’

  ‘Of course I did, but he didn’t know what I was talking about.’ She bows her head and I see a tear drop onto her chest. ‘He said he understood the situation … with Alicia and all that.’ She lifts her head again and shows a brave little smile. ‘He must have thought I am mad.’

  ‘You were worried.’

  ‘Yes, I was. I thought … well, don’t they say that bad things and accidents always come in threes? Alicia was the first, of course, then Trevor, and then Alfie.’

  I am still on the doorstep and she hasn’t moved either. Alicia. Trevor. Alfie. Something is wrong here. ‘Mrs Bennett, can I come in?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ She hesitates, as if she has a question on her lips, but is not sure if she wants to hear the answer. ‘But you’ll have to wait if you want to speak to Trevor. He isn’t here.’ She steps back and gestures with her hand. All the doors are closed and the long hallway is dark.

  ‘You just said that accidents and bad things come in threes. What did you mean by that? What’s happened to Trevor?’ I ask, following her into a cold living room. Yesterday’s newspaper is spread out on one side of the settee, a pair of slippers, presumably Trevor’s, are scattered under the table. Two empty tea cups are on the coffee table, next to a book with a bookmark stuck between the pages. A historic novel. Maureen’s.

  She turns and scrutinises my face. ‘Are you here to tell me that Trevor has had an accident, inspector?’

  ‘No.’ I sit down on the nearest seat closest to the book. It feels warm and comfortable and I can easily imagine her sitting there with her book and dozing off while Trevor watches football on TV. Simple family life. I think of my own home. Comfortable and warm, but lonely. Nobody to talk to when I come home, to discuss items what’s on TV or in the papers. Or what’s happened during the day. Even though, at the moment, her life doesn’t seem as rosy as I might think, I envy Maureen Bennett.

  ‘Shall I make a brew?’ she asks, flexing and unflexing her fingers, moving the handkerchief from one hand to the other.

  ‘Sit down, Mrs Bennett. Tell me about Trevor. Clearly, you are concerned.’

  She sniffs and presses the handkerchief against her nose. ‘Just before I got the call from Alfie’s school, Trevor had phoned me. He normally gives me a call before he leaves his work and today
… he planned to have the afternoon off. He can’t get his head round his job at the moment, you see. He is so shocked about what happened to Alicia.’

  ‘They had been together for … how many years?’

  ‘About twelve years.’

  ‘Oh, go on, please Mrs Bennett.’

  ‘He called me, like he always does. There is a supermarket on his way home and I can always ask him to get me anything I’ve forgotten to buy. I asked him to buy some milk, as ours had gone off this morning. He said, no problem, and as soon as I put the phone down was when Alfie’s school rang. I jumped in my car without even thinking about writing a note for Trevor to tell him where I was. Good job I didn’t, I thought afterwards, when I drove back home, because … well there is some tension between us since … Alicia’s death. I felt rather silly about the whole thing with Alfie. I couldn’t … I didn’t intend to tell Trevor where I’d been … in case he asked. Anyway, I expected him to be home already, but he wasn’t.’

  ‘Could he have also had a call about your son and also gone to the school?’

  ‘No. Yes. I don’t know.’ She shakes her head vigorously. ‘But the odd thing is that Trevor has been home, because he left the milk on the counter. Then I thought … I knew … he would never do that, inspector. He would always put the milk in the fridge. He wouldn’t just leave it there. And he always writes me a note when he goes out. Always.’ She finishes with a small sob.

  ‘Have you checked the house? The garden?’

  ‘I’ve been everywhere. Checked everything twice. Even went in the shed, although the padlock was still in place … on the outside of the door.’

  ‘What do you think has happened to your husband?’ I am thinking about the affair he had with someone at work, when he was still married to Alicia. His deceit and lies eventually caused their divorce. Perhaps he’s met his former lover again and they have rekindled the affair. Or he’s met someone else.

  Maureen Bennett seems to have had the same train of thought. ‘I really can't imagine ...’ she says slowly, then pausing abruptly

  ‘Have you called his mobile?’

  ‘It was the first thing I did. I got through to his voicemail straight away. I asked him to call me back immediately. Several times.’ She sniffs again. ‘And then you came. A policeman on the doorstep is never a good sign, I thought. I was afraid that you were here to bring me bad news about him. Like he’d been involved in an accident. Injured. Badly hurt. Dead.’

  I stare at her. Something is nagging at me. Something she said, but it didn’t register with me. I now sense that it was important, only I can’t remember what it was.

  ‘Why did you think the worst?’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious? Alicia was murdered. I was afraid that Trevor … he might be in danger too.’

  I stare at her, trying to read what’s going on in her head. ‘What makes you think that?’

  She shrugs. ‘Well, if Alicia’s been in contact with that man, and so has Trevor, he would also be in danger, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘Is there something you haven’t told us, Mrs Bennett? What man are you talking about?’

  ‘Like what?’ she asks, but her mind is elsewhere.

  ‘Mrs Bennett,’ I say slowly, ‘Do you know something about Alicia’s death?’

  ‘No! I don’t know anything!’ She cries out, then resumes in a calmer tone, ‘I don’t understand how you can think that.’

  ‘Keeping important information from the police, or giving a false statement, is regarded as a serious crime, Mrs Bennett. I hope you are aware of that.’ I hope I haven’t frightened her so much that she won’t say another word.

  ‘I haven’t done anything wrong!’ She is in tears now, possibly a mixture of concern about Trevor and my presence.

  ‘Then why don’t you tell me who that man is that you’re talking about?’

  ‘Because I don’t know! I really don’t!’

  ‘What do you know?’

  ‘Uhm … it started a while ago.’ She glances at the clock on the mantelpiece above a coal-effect electric fire, which has a lead tied together with a piece of brown packing tape.

  ‘Two, three weeks ago, maybe four, Trevor had a phone call. I didn’t know who it was, only that it was a woman. Knowing the reason why Alicia divorced him, I was … suspicious that he might do it again.’ She shakes her head defensively. ‘I could hear her voice, but I couldn’t hear what she said. Later, I convinced myself that it must have been Alicia. About Briony. They were generally civil, but sometimes … they argued. I always kept my distance. Trevor was upset about the phone call afterwards, but he wouldn’t tell me anything. He said it had nothing to do with me and that he wasn’t seeing someone else.’ She pauses and shrugs miserably. ‘I didn’t know what to believe, to be honest. A few days later, a man phoned. He’d called before. I could gather that from the conversation, and he sounded angry. Trevor was angry too. He took the phone into the other room, but I followed him and I listened at the door. I thought, if he had something going with another woman, this might be her husband. But then I heard Trevor telling the man to leave him alone and not call again. I thought that was odd, because if Trevor really was having an affair this man’s wife, he would have been telling Trevor to leave them alone.’ She hesitates. ‘Does that make sense?’

  ‘Yes. I gather that this wasn’t the end of it?’

  ‘No, it wasn’t. I … I don’t want to cause any trouble for Trevor, inspector, but I do believe …that he had contact with Alicia and it wasn’t about seeing Briony.’

  ‘When was that?’

  ‘About a week before she was … before she died.’

  ‘Trevor and Alicia had normal contact over Briony, I suppose?’

  ‘Yes, but this was different. The arrangement about Briony was pretty straightforward. He always picked her up on Saturday morning about half past nine, every other weekend. And he took her back on Sunday after tea time. There wasn’t any contact between them unless one of them wanted to change the arrangement. Like that day that his car wouldn’t start and he was later than usual.’

  ‘But when he spoke to Alicia that day … do you have any idea what that was about?’ A woman who suspects her husband of having an affair will go to great lengths to find out about it. I guess Maureen is the exception to the rule.

  ‘They had a row and I know it was about a holiday. I thought it was about this year’s holiday, because we’ve been talking about going to France and we would love to take Briony with us. Although there are two years between them, my Gillian and Briony get on really well. The girls are into horse riding at the moment and we found a campsite near to some stables. And there is a swimming pool and a play ground for Alfie.’

  ‘It wasn’t about this summer, then?’ I interrupt her. ‘Was it about last summer? The holiday in Portugal?’

  ‘How do you know that, inspector?’ without waiting for me to answer, sniffs, blows her nose and continues. ‘Trevor said something about how badly she had behaved and he wouldn’t want a repeat of that if she was taking Briony on holiday again. If she wanted to go on holiday with her friend, he wouldn’t want her to take her daughter with her, as we are always happy to have her.’

  ‘So this phone call was about what happened in Portugal last summer?’

  ‘I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me anything about it and I … I couldn’t ask. I knew they had been to Portugal of course, because Briony told us about it, but I didn’t think that they were still arguing about it now, months later.’

  ‘So why do you think this is important, Mrs Bennett?’

  ‘I don’t really know. It’s just … a feeling I had. Because … I may have got it all wrong, but I believe that Trevor … that he might be in trouble and it has something to do with Alicia.’

  ‘You thought there was an argument between Trevor and Alicia about that holiday in Portugal. But the other phone calls? Were they about the same thing?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just had that feeling … because Trevor isn�
�t the type to have arguments with other people. I thought it was odd that he got upset by these phone calls.’

  ‘Do you have any idea who that man might have been? Did Trevor ever mention a name?’

  ‘No.’ She smiles and stretches her hands out in front of her, spreading her fingers. ‘I checked the phone, but the number was withheld.’

  ‘Have you ever heard the name Torrington? Wilbur? Or Arthur Bristow? Josh Warren? Chris Eyre?’

  ‘No, I haven’t heard any of those names. You will have to ask Trevor yourself.’

  I look at the clock on the wall. It has been thirty-five minutes since I got here. ‘When do you expect Trevor home?’

  Her eyes have followed mine to the clock and I can see them widen as she realises what time it is. ‘I don’t know …’ she says softly, almost in tears again. ‘I can't think where he's gone. His … his car is still here, you see.’ She pauses, hesitating. ‘I might be completely wrong, inspector, but I have a feeling that the man who rang him had something to do with Alicia’s death. And I am afraid that Trevor may not be safe.’

  31

  One of the main duties of a police family liaison officer is to communicate with a bereaved or traumatised family and provide practical help and support, but also, as an experienced police investigator, their primary role is to gather evidence and information that may be useful to the investigation. The relationship an FLO has with a bereaved family relies on compassion and trust. Sally Walker was initially assigned as a FLO to the Poole family, but Kenneth Poole didn’t approve of having a stranger in his home. He instructed Briony not to talk to Sally, and eventually he told her not to come any more.

  I don’t know her personally, but I have heard good reports about Sally Walker and I’m pretty sure that any friction was not caused by her. I would have liked to her to have been able to carry on in her role a little longer, but we can’t force a family to have an FLO in their home.

  Kenneth Poole’s son, Christopher and his wife, Marisa, have temporarily moved in with him, mainly to support Briony. When I made the appointment to talk to Briony and ask her some questions about her mother, Kenneth wasn’t keen on this idea either, but he had promised his full cooperation with the police investigation so he has little choice but to let me see her.