He stared at her intently. ‘But you were here when it happened? Weren’t you?’
It was cold on the doorstep, and he looked almost as shivery and sick as Thea felt. ‘You’d better come in,’ she said grudgingly. ‘If you don’t mind my flu germs.’
He laughed at this. ‘Not you as well. Don’t worry – I’ve got it already. When did yours start?’
‘Friday evening.’
‘I’m two days ahead of you. You’ll start to feel half human again by Christmas Day, then. I had to go to my father’s funeral with a raging temperature and a murderous headache. It’s a wonder I didn’t get fatal complications.’
She took him into the living room, where Hepzie flung herself at his legs and Blondie cocked one ear in disappointment that he was not her master. He fondled the spaniel’s long ears and then pushed her gently back to the floor. ‘What a pretty dog,’ he said.
Thea was reminded of Juliet, who had not only correctly identified the dog’s breed, but had also told Thea she was pretty. ‘Who are you?’ she asked baldly.
‘Sorry. The name’s Ralph Callendar.’
‘Thea Osborne,’ she responded, without extending a hand for him to shake. Slowly her brain was making the link. ‘I saw you on Friday. Were you the one in the second car?’
He nodded, with a grin. ‘Banished, you see, in case my mother caught my flu. To be fair, she does have a compromised immune system, so it would be a bad idea for her to get it. She’s had a fairly mild form of leukaemia for a couple of years now. She doesn’t usually take it seriously, but my brother Edwin is paranoid on her behalf. My wife and kid came with me, on the assumption they were incubating the dreaded virus. As it turned out, they weren’t.’
‘He died in his bath,’ she said, without thinking. ‘I saw it in the paper.’
‘Bloody silly thing to do,’ he nodded. ‘Everyone had told him it wasn’t safe. He’d had that old radio for decades – the wiring was bound to be dodgy.’
‘Your mother found him – is that right?’
‘So she says. Can’t see any reason to doubt her. There’s only the two of them in the house in an evening. All the staff go home at seven.’
‘Staff?’
‘Just a cook and secretary, really. You don’t count the cleaning woman as technically staff, do you? And the gardener’s only part-time.’
‘Your father must have been popular. It looked as if the entire village showed up at the church.’
‘Don’t you believe it. They just wanted to snoop. We’re notorious, you know. And proud of it,’ he laughed.
She squared her aching shoulders. ‘So what do you want to ask me? I don’t imagine I’ll be of any help, but you may as well give it a try now you’re here.’
‘The woman next door – Natasha Ainsworth, she’s called. I gather she’s dead.’ The last word shot out with unnatural emphasis, as if he was determined to confront it, however great the effort might be.
‘So it seems. As far as I understand it, the funeral party was at her house on Friday.’
‘Well, your understanding isn’t altogether accurate,’ he corrected her. ‘Only about half the mourners went back there. The rest went to a very smart hotel for a late lunch provided by my mother. She sat at a table all by herself and didn’t eat a thing.’
‘Two parties?’ Thea said wonderingly.
‘We don’t call them parties,’ he reproved her. ‘It was very far from a party atmosphere, I can tell you.’
‘Sorry. But there were two – is that right?’
He gave a pained smile and nodded. ‘Natasha always did stand up for her rights, as she saw them. You have to admire her in a way.’
‘Somebody killed her. The police are going to focus on your mother and those around her, aren’t they?’
He seemed suddenly to wilt and turn terribly pale. ‘Can I sit down?’ he gasped. Before she could reply he had flopped onto the sofa, narrowly missing Hepzie who had jumped into a cosy corner after her initial love-in with the visitor. She gave him a friendly nudge and rolled her big spaniel eyes at him. He automatically put a hand on her soft head. The only thing Thea knew so far about Ralph Callendar was that he was good with dogs, and thereby earned her favour.
She waited for him to recover his colour before asking, ‘So that your boy in the car with you?’
‘Mikey, yes. He’s nine. We’ve got two more, actually. Girls, five and two.’
‘And a dog?’
‘Three dogs. One for each child. Corgis. Did you say the police are going to think my mother murdered Natasha?’ He stared at her as if really wanting to know.
She sat down herself before answering. ‘Don’t take any notice of what I say. I have no idea how things were between you. I never even glimpsed Natasha. It’s only what I’ve heard.’ She sighed, noticing that her lungs hurt when they were inflated. Nearly everything hurt, in a low-level I-do-feel-poorly sort of way. ‘I’m not well enough to take much interest,’ she added, hoping it hadn’t emerged as a whine.
‘It’s an extremely stupid idea,’ he went on, with more force. ‘We all liked Natasha. She was a family friend for decades. We all grew up with her. She used to babysit me and my brothers. She’s like part of the family. Not to mention the business. She’s been indispensable in that department, as well.’
‘Okay.’ She tried to visualise how that could have been.
‘How many brothers?’ she asked, thinking of the funeral cortège she had witnessed.
‘Two. I’m the youngest. The others are Edwin and Sebastian. Sebastian’s been in disgrace, I’m afraid. He was caught cheating some of our customers, and they sent him to gaol for a bit.’ He frowned briefly. ‘Why am I telling you that?’
‘Sorry. It’s my fault. I always ask too many questions. I just like to get the picture. It makes me feel less defenceless,’ she added, startling herself by the admission.
‘I can see that, I guess. Well, Edwin’s got a wife and two boys. Sebastian is still single. He always says he likes women too much to get married. He thinks that’s an original joke. Basically, he’s the troublesome one.’
‘And your mother coped with your father’s other woman, did she?’
‘More or less. She freaked out a few times when he took Tash to local bashes instead of her. He did that rather often at one point. She managed to get him to be a bit more discreet.’
‘But essentially he was a bigamist,’ Thea summarised baldly, making no attempt to conceal her distaste. ‘Getting away with it. How undignified for your poor mother.’
‘My mother is a magistrate, a school governor and a campaigner against building on green fields, among many other things. Her dignity is very seldom in question.’ His own dignity took pride of place in this defence of his mother, Thea noted. Try as she might, she could discover no precedent for such a set-up in her own experience. As she had realised before, her family was remarkably monogamous on all sides. Not so much as an unfaithful aunt or cousin could be found. She supposed it amounted to some kind of steadfast moral code passing down the generations, and almost never openly acknowledged, let alone questioned. Much of the credit went to her father, she believed.
‘Good for her,’ she said sincerely. ‘So how has she taken your father’s death?’
Ralph shivered. ‘You don’t mince your words, do you? Most people say loss or passing.’
‘You said it yourself, about Natasha,’ she reminded him. ‘And besides, the language doesn’t alter the reality.’
‘It softens it, though. Don’t you worry that people might think you’re rather hard?’
She swallowed painfully. He had pressed a sensitive button, when she was least expecting it. ‘Ouch!’ she protested.
‘Sorry. That was mean of me, when you’ve got flu. One does feel so defenceless, I know. As if a layer of skin is missing. I did have to make myself say it, but it didn’t come easily.’
The onset of tears took her completely by surprise. Her face seemed to implode with a sort of crash
, and a sob burst out quite beyond her power to control. ‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘Oh, God. I didn’t mean to … Honestly, what a mess it all is. Here’s you, all on your own, with a dead woman next door and I turn up and tell you your character defects. Ignore me. I’m a monster. I don’t know what I was thinking of.’
She rallied with a great effort. ‘No, it’s not you,’ she sniffed. ‘It’s just the flu, like you said. I’m really quite all right.’
‘You’re not,’ he corrected her. ‘But then, which of us is? We just have to muddle through, don’t we? I see it was idiotic of me to think you’d know anything about what happened to Natasha. I had no idea the people were away – not that I know them at all. They’ve left you to mind their dogs, of course. I get it.’
‘Dog, singular. The spaniel’s mine. She always comes with me.’
‘She’s lovely. They have such wonderful heads, don’t they?’ It was a skilful recovery, and very effective. By focusing on the dog, they both sidestepped the awkward moment. Ralph sniffed the air as if just noticing something. ‘Smoker, are you? Have a fag if it’ll make you feel better. Don’t mind me.’
‘No, I’m not. The Shepherds are. The house must smell of it, but I haven’t really noticed.’
‘I gave up a year ago. The smell still makes me happy.’
Thea smiled, but resisted any temptation to divert onto the topic of cigarettes. ‘What was Natasha like?’ she asked.
He answered thoughtfully, one word at a time. ‘Good-looking. Fit. Late forties, I think. Clever. A great walker. We used to tease her and call her “Ms Footpath” because she was always mounting some sort of campaign to keep paths open, or protesting at diversions.’
‘So people liked her?’
‘Oh, yes.’ He frowned. ‘Most people did. She was outspoken, of course, saying what was on her mind even if it upset people. She always seemed to know best, which could be irritating.’
‘Didn’t anybody disapprove of her lifestyle? I mean – the thing with your father …’
‘I think it just confused them. My mother never wanted anybody’s sympathy about it. She put a good face on it, insisting they weren’t in competition.’
‘But they were when it came to the funeral,’ Thea suggested. ‘That must have forced people to take sides.’
‘Actually, not at all. The real family friends came to the meal at the hotel, and the rest had sandwiches at Natasha’s. It all seemed to work out more or less harmoniously.’
‘So you don’t think that’s why somebody killed her?’
He stared at her, with a half smile on his lips. ‘Of course not.’
She nodded an unavoidable acceptance of his superior knowledge and offered to make him a drink.
‘No, no,’ he declined. ‘I absolutely must go. I have a thousand things to do. Sarah’s been a martyr to my sickness for much too long already. Plus having to go to a funeral was the final straw. It took us ages to find anyone to watch out for the girls. The woman who generally does it was at another funeral, believe it or not. People dropping like flies.’
‘Don’t tell me,’ said Thea, thinking perhaps she’d fallen asleep and was in fact dreaming. ‘It was the funeral of a woman called Eva who had cystic fibrosis. At least I don’t imagine it’s her cousin Juliet who’s your childminder.’ She laughed. ‘That would take coincidence to a whole new high.’
‘Close,’ he said, with a seriously confused expression. ‘Juliet’s got a sister, Cordelia. She’s not exactly a childminder, but she’s fabulous with small children.’
‘Same funeral, wrong sister,’ said Thea. ‘Still a ludicrous synchronicity.’
‘Why?’ He was already up and making slowly for the door. Thea wondered whether she should feel flattered that he evidently found it so difficult to leave. He checked himself before she could reply. ‘No, don’t answer that. Don’t say another word. I’ll come back another time. Except – oh, God, isn’t Christmas a bloody nuisance? You can’t get a morsel of sense out of anybody for at least a fortnight. We’ve got a whole load of stray relatives coming, not to mention about four sherry parties, carols, and I don’t know what else.’ He went to run a hand through his hair and discovered he was still sporting the furry hat. He rubbed it anyway, making Thea smile.
‘It was nice to meet you,’ she said. ‘And I’m sorry about your father. It must have been a dreadful shock.’
He opened his mouth and closed it, putting a finger to his lips. Then, ‘Bye,’ he mouthed and was gone.
She had liked him for his sensitivity and politeness, as well as for helping her pass twenty minutes that might otherwise have hung heavy. She wondered whether they had given each other any help in terms of information about Natasha’s murder – not that she had any right to expect it, she reminded herself. Perhaps after Christmas they’d meet again. He was definitely the nicest person she had met so far in Stanton.
Jeremy Higgins put in an appearance at eleven o’clock, looking rumpled and rueful. ‘Can’t stay long,’ he said without preamble, when she opened the door to him. ‘Just need to ask you what, if anything, you heard next door, during yesterday.’
‘Absolutely nothing. But Cheryl heard voices when she went round there. I thought it might have been a telly or radio. Somebody must have turned it off at some point. Probably the paramedics.’
‘Why did she go “round there”?’ He made inverted commas in the air, raising one eyebrow.
‘Um … to ask her if she’d keep an eye on me with my flu. There didn’t seem to be anybody else, with the next-door man going away.’
‘And how is the flu?’
‘No better. Not much worse. Everything aches. But I’m assured it’ll be gone in another day or so. I met Ralph Callendar this morning. He’s had it as well.’
‘How long was she gone? Mrs Bagshawe?’
‘What? Oh – five minutes, maybe. Not very long.’
‘Five minutes is a long time to stand knocking on a front door,’ he corrected her.
‘Less, then. I was a bit blurry, actually. I nearly fainted. I can’t be sure of anything much.’
‘Let’s sit down a minute and I’ll run you through it. Tell me if anything sounds wrong.’ He was painfully matter-of-fact, and clearly assumed she would be the same. ‘Miss Ainsworth was found dead at 2.50 p.m., having lost a large quantity of blood from a severed artery after an apparent attack with a sharp instrument. The attack took place in a room at the rear of the house, and the victim dragged herself into the front room and managed to throw a stone statue through the window onto the street. Before anybody could gain entry to the house, she was dead. It seems probable that she was attacked only minutes before she died.’
‘Which artery was it? What was the weapon? Did you find it at the scene?’
He paused. ‘I’m not supposed to say.’
‘Fine. I just wondered if she could have done it to herself.’
‘Very unlikely indeed, given the circumstances. And why would she try to get help if she was committing suicide?’
‘Panic. Change of heart. Or she might have done it by accident.’
‘We’ll know more when the post-mortem’s finished.’
‘Are they doing it today?’
He nodded with a half smile. ‘Starting any time now. It was a choice of today or Christmas Eve.’
‘I don’t think I’m going to be any use to you,’ she said, with an unfamiliar sense of relief. She didn’t care who had killed Natasha Ainsworth. Just at that moment she didn’t care about anything very much.
‘Did you see her at any point? Before or after she died?’ Thea shook her head. ‘She was a striking-looking woman,’ he went on. ‘Thick mane of white hair, even though she was not quite fifty. Very slim, deep-set eyes. You’d remember her if you saw her.’
‘Well I didn’t.’
‘Who have you seen, since you got here?’
‘Cheryl. Dennis Thingummy on the other side. Oh, and a person called Juliet Wilson, who barged in through the back door
on my first day. I think she’s got some sort of mental trouble. Her mother came to collect her. She comes to talk to Gloria and the pet rats quite often, I think.’
He lifted his tired head and stared at her. ‘The mother’s not called Rosa, is she? Are we talking about the Wilson women from Laverton?’
She nodded. ‘I told you yesterday, in the car. You laughed at me. You said some rather hurtful things, actually.’
‘Did I? I don’t remember. Well, they’ve got nothing to do with all this. At least, I hope they haven’t. We’ve had enough complications with those two, over the years.’
‘Oh?’
Higgins gave no further elaboration, which left Thea assuming there had been complaints about Juliet’s uninhibited roaming around the area and police helplessness to stop her.
Higgins continued with his questions. ‘And that’s it? There’s nobody else you’ve bumped into?’
‘Just Ralph. He was nice.’
‘What did he want?’
‘Information, I think. The way relatives generally do. They’re desperate for it. I don’t think the police understand how that works, actually. Making people wait so long for proper explanations.’
‘Relative?’ he frowned. ‘He’s not a relative.’
She thought it through. ‘She babysat him when he was little. She’s been like part of the family. I said his father was effectively a bigamist and he sort of defended him. He liked Natasha.’
‘Or said he did,’ Higgins remarked darkly. He in turn spent some seconds in thought. ‘And Dennis Ireland? When did you see him?’
‘He came to the door while Cheryl was here, after you asked him to watch out for me. He wasn’t too happy to see Cheryl. She answered the door.’
‘Why wasn’t he? Surely she’d let him off the hook.’
‘Maybe he wanted to be a good Samaritan and she thwarted him. He’d geared himself up to come and offer help and was disappointed when he saw he wasn’t needed.’
‘Where did he go after that?’
‘Back to his house. We heard him shut the front door after himself. Somebody – Cheryl, I think – fetched him when Natasha was found. He must only have been inside for ten minutes at most. Quite a few other people showed up as well, once they realised something was going on. I don’t know who any of them were.’
Trouble in the Cotswolds (The Cotswold Mysteries) Page 9
