The Anna McColl Mysteries Box Set 2

by Penny Kline

  ‘Can’t help. I’m afraid.’ She opened the till and started sorting out the notes. ‘You know, it’s Isabel I worry about, Ted’s ex-wife. You may have seen her picking up Charlie.’

  ‘I think Eric usually takes Charlie to her house.’

  ‘Yes, she’d like that, although Deborah says she’s going to sell up, move to somewhere smaller. As far as I can see, the only people to benefit from divorce are the speculative builders. More and more accommodation needed for more and more people living on their own. Have you seen that old block they’re renovating down near the river? Lots of little nests, together with all mod cons, a bar, swimming pool, even a gym, not that poor Isabel’s the type to take advantage of that kind of set-up. Deborah’s the one who loves health clubs and all that keep fit lark.’

  *

  Just as I was leaving the annexe, to go and meet McGhee, the phone started ringing.

  ‘I couldn’t have been more patient,’ said the voice, ‘I’ve given you time to come to your senses, but I’m not going to go away, you know that.’

  I looked out of the window, focusing my attention on a blackbird perched on the wall, then my gaze was distracted by someone coming up the path. I only caught a glimpse but it was enough. Carefully placing the receiver on the carpet I went to let him in.

  ‘This won’t take more than five minutes.’ Maltby followed me into the living room, noticed the phone lying on the floor and nodded, as if to give me permission to finish the call.

  ‘Are you still there?’ At the very least Maltby could be a witness to what had been going on, but the only sound was the dull drone of the dialling tone.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Maltby, ‘have you been cut off?’

  ‘I’m just about to go out. It wasn’t important.’

  ‘Good.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘Sorry. Didn’t have much sleep last night. Baby arrived early but she’s a reasonable weight — three point four kilograms. That’s seven and a half pounds to you and me.’

  ‘Congratulations.’

  He nodded. ‘Has Newsom talked to you about Cunliffe? He was unemployed, at least he signed on unemployed, but the contents of his flat, expensive new clothes, plenty of electronic equipment, suggest he had another source of income. I wondered if you’d any ideas.’

  ‘Why should I have?’

  ‘I thought Newsom might have mentioned something. Just so we’re not talking at cross purposes perhaps you’d like to clarify the nature of your relationship.’

  ‘With Eric? He’s my landlord.’

  ‘Yes, of course, but you’re on reasonably friendly terms. See much of him and the boy, do you? I’d have thought a resident psychologist might come in quite useful. How about the grandparents, Dr and Mrs Newsom? No, I know they don’t live together but they’ve a mutual interest in their grandson. The maternal grandparents split up years ago, mother lives abroad, father’s dead.’

  He looked up, as if the information he had just provided required some comment from me. When I said nothing he wrote something in his notebook.

  ‘As far I can tell Newsom’s mother sees quite a lot of the boy so in the event of …’ He broke off, searching for something in his pocket.

  ‘In the event of what, and you know Charlie’s name so why d’you keep referring to him as “the boy”?’

  He smiled. ‘So you can’t help with Cunliffe?’

  ‘I’ve already told you I know nothing about the man. This so-called tip-off you received, the anonymous call saying he’d been friendly with Eric’s wife, was the person who made it male or a female?’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.’ His voice was infuriating. He knew I wanted to go out but he kept me waiting while he turned the pages of his notebook, making sure none of them had stuck together. ‘Right, well I think that’s everything for now. You do realise that concealing evidence is a serious offence? Yes, of course you do, I keep forgetting you and Superintendent Fry are old friends. No, stay where you are, I’ll see myself out.’

  *

  McGhee had his back turned, tapping his foot as he studied the publicity photographs outside the theatre. They were putting on a new play about teenage gangs, and an actor from a recent television series had come down to play the lead. The previous day I had heard Martin talking to Heather in the office, trying to persuade her to take her girls to see it, and Heather making some excuse about how she had never been a great theatregoer.

  McGhee had no idea I was watching him. I touched him on the arm and he spun round.

  ‘Oh, it’s you, Anna, you gave me a fright.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m late, the phone rang just as I was leaving.’

  ‘No problem, the pub I mentioned is only a few minutes from here, not that it’s all that exciting and you may have been there before.’ He glanced at me, afraid he had built up my expectations too much, although in fact I had no particular interest which pub we sat in.

  ‘How are you?’ His super-relaxed expression had returned but I could sense the tension in his body. ‘Thank God the rain’s stopped. Don’t know about you but I can’t be bothered with umbrellas, more trouble than they’re worth, poking people’s eyes out, getting left on buses.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Listen, you remember I told you how Nikki had been looking for a new job and I’d put her in touch with this person I know who runs a film company.’

  ‘You mentioned the job, not the film company.’

  ‘Didn’t I? Run by Lucy Cameron, one of those dynamic, slightly alarming women — you’ve probably heard of her.’

  I shook my head. ‘No, I don’t think so. She’s the person you wanted me to meet?’

  ‘Yes, only I’m not sure she’s going to show up — may have had to go up to London, something about raising more cash. Sorry, am I walking too fast? People who go everywhere in cars seem to find it hard to keep up with me.’

  ‘You haven’t got a car?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve got one all right.’ He put a hand on my back, steering me across the street, then pulling me away from a large but very visible puddle as if he thought I was going to walk straight through it. ‘Little problem with my driving licence. Don’t worry, another month and I’ll be back on the road. Hang on, here we are, I’ll go in first, shall I, clear a route to the bar?’

  The pub was tiny. At first I thought there was nowhere to sit and we would have to stand, squeezed up against a wall, shouting to make ourselves heard, then I noticed a space to the left off the bar.

  ‘Through there,’ said McGhee. ‘What are you having, same as before?’

  I nodded, pushing past a group of noisy but anxious-looking young men, all drinking fast, eager to reach a state where their inhibitions disappeared. One of them was telling a joke, something about a wedding night. Did people still have wedding nights? And the others were laughing too soon, jumping the punchline. The smoky atmosphere was making me cough. If this was the kind of pub he liked I wondered why he spent so much time in The Night Sky. Perhaps it was just a starting point and later in the evening he moved on to others.

  ‘Ah, there you are.’ McGhee finally arrived with the glasses held high. ‘Not usually as bad as this, still we’re all right here.’ He sat down then stood up again, trying to see over the heads of the young men. ‘Can’t see Lucy. Oh, well, never mind, I expect she’s told me everything worth knowing.’

  ‘She’s the one who’s interested in your screenplay?’

  He pulled a face. ‘Interested is putting it a bit strong, but at least she’ll give it the once-over. I hadn’t realised it had gone that far but apparently Nikki had been interviewed, then short-listed, then interviewed again in depth. Lucy wanted to make sure she was taking on the right person.’

  ‘What kind of job was it?’

  ‘Yes, I was never too sure. General dogsbody, I imagine, plus being presentable enough to help entertain clients. Now, listen to this. I asked Lucy what she thought of Nikki and it turned out she’d given her one of those tests they use for job selection. I’d no idea, but a
pparently the tests have built-in lie detectors.’

  ‘Have you ever lost your temper? Have you ever felt depressed?’

  ‘Sorry? Oh, yes, yes I suppose that’s the sort of thing. Of course, what am I talking about.’ He clapped his hand to his forehead. ‘You’d know all about psychological profiling. Anyway, you’ll have guessed by now. Nikki was revealed as an out and out liar.’

  I tried my drink. He had forgotten what ‘my usual’ was but it would do. ‘Maybe she wasn’t taking the test too seriously,’ I said. ‘A lot of people don’t like them. Either that or she was so desperate to give a good impression she gave the answers she thought would go down well.’

  He looked disappointed, as if he had expected the revelation about the psychometric test to have made more of an impact. ‘Anyway, that’s not all. I’ve been asking around, other people who knew Nikki. As I said before she was hardly your shrinking violet, treated everyone she met like an old friend. Listen, it’s hell in here, would you rather go somewhere else? We could walk round the floating harbour, call in at the Anchor.’

  ‘Yes, all right. By the way, did Nikki ever mention someone called Llewellyn?’

  ‘Llewellyn,’ he repeated. ‘Not Welsh are you, the way you pronounced it I —’

  ‘No, I’m not Welsh. He’s some kind of wheeler-dealer, someone who sold her tickets for shows that were supposed to be sold out. Apparently she sometimes referred to him as “Mr Wonderful”.’

  ‘Really, if that’s right I’m surprised we never heard. Still, probably wanted to keep it to herself. She was mad about show business, movies, pop concerts, and her favourite of all time: big, extravagantly produced musicals, plenty of dancing, expensive sets. I once tried to persuade her to accompany me to the Welsh National Opera Company when they were appearing at the Hippodrome. You should have seen her face!’

  ‘I believe you said how she sometimes left The Night Sky and went on to a club.’

  He looked puzzled. ‘Did I? Don’t think so. Never heard her say anything … Oh, hang on, yes, there was a place. I assumed it was some kind of disco, if that’s what they call them these days.’

  Had I imagined it or was his answer a little too sure, his voice a little too surprised? I stood up. Now we had decided to move on I was impatient to leave the stuffy, claustrophobic atmosphere and get into the fresh air. It was raining again, a light, cold drizzle. McGhee asked if I minded but anything was better than returning to the pub.

  ‘We could always go back to my flat,’ he said. ‘Purpose-built development overlooking the water. You must know it, it’s close to your place in Cliftonwood. When d’you think you’ll be moving back in?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  He was looking all around him as if he was expecting to see someone he knew. Lucy Cameron? ‘You look cold,’ he said, ‘need something to warm you up. If you don’t want to drink and drive you could always spend the night at my place. On the sofa-bed, of course, I’m not that much of an optimist. Now, tell me more about this Llewellyn person. Before Nikki met up with Eric she and her stepfather used to travel quite a distance if there was some show they wanted to see. Apparently Barry had worked in the theatre, back stage, as an electrician, I think.’

  ‘Charlie wants to see him,’ I said.

  ‘Barry? I didn’t realise Eric had kept in touch.’

  ‘He hasn’t.’

  ‘No, I see. Could be tricky then, eh? When Nikki died Barry was in hospital, having an operation, and after he came out he was going on holiday to some exotic spot. It was all planned, the operation, then the holiday paid for by Nikki.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, I must say I was a little surprised. She and Eric seemed to be having a fair amount of difficulty making ends meet. I suppose she must have put in more overtime.’

  Was that the reason Eric was so unwilling for Charlie to see Barry? There had been a row about money. How on earth had Nikki managed to earn enough for Barry and Moira to go abroad? Then I remembered Ronnie Cox’s four hundred pounds.

  ‘Nikki must have been very fond of her stepfather,’ I said.

  We had reached the water and McGhee was staring down at a patch of shimmering oil. On the other side of the harbour some boys had made an ‘assault course’, out of planks of wood and the new seats that had been screwed down next to a strip of grass, and were shouting and laughing as they jumped from one to another. McGhee sighed then looked up, frowning. His expressions were probably quite genuine but sometimes reminded me of an actor speaking the last dramatic lines before the scene cut and changed to something else. ‘Listen, Anna, if I tell you something it must be in absolute confidence, mainly because I’ve no evidence to back it up and besides it’s not fair now Nikki’s not here to refute it.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘At the time I never took it too seriously but since then I’ve wondered … One evening, back before Christmas I think it was, she stayed on at the pub longer than usual, had a fair amount to drink. She’d been talking to a group of young men, flirting with them but only the way that came naturally to her, nothing serious. Then they left and she joined me, all her bonhomie suddenly evaporating. “What’s up?” I asked, afraid one of the men had said something to upset her. “Oh nothing,” she said, and for one horrible moment I thought she was going to burst into tears. Then she started talking about Barry and how hard it had been after her mother left. I think one of the reasons she’d stayed with him was to get back at her mother — they’d never hit it off too well — that and the fact she felt sorry for the man. Strange girl, impulsive, capricious, but she could be very kind.’

  ‘Heart of gold?’

  His head shot up. ‘I’m only trying to give you as full a picture as possible.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry.’

  He moved closer. The street lamp illuminated the rain on his surprisingly thick grey hair and I could see lines on his neck I had never noticed before. He had told me he was still in his forties but it was probably another of his little white lies.

  ‘Let me try and remember,’ he said. ‘There’d been this case in the paper. Stepfather accused of sexually abusing his fourteen-year-old daughter. When Nikki started on about it I was expecting a diatribe against selfish, evil men and how they ought to be locked up and the key thrown away. Not at all, she was on the side of the father. “If she didn’t like it, why did she put up with it?” As I recall, those were her exact words. “Oh come on,” I protested, “the poor girl probably had no choice. Besides, it’s a wicked thing to do, destroying trust, ruining the whole father-daughter relationship.” “Oh, rubbish,” she said. “Oh, rubbish,” — I can hear her now — “things are never that simple, people just like to blame the man, it makes a better story.”’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Eric was standing in the doorway to the workshop.

  ‘Charlie’s got a day off school,’ he said. ‘The teachers are on a training course or something.’

  ‘Yes, I know. He’s going to see Barry.’

  He drew on the stub of his cigarette. ‘Once a smoker …’ he said gloomily. ‘Want one?’

  ‘No thanks. What’s the problem?’ I had considered telling him about the money Nikki had borrowed from Ronnie to pay for Barry’s holiday but had decided against it. ‘Look, I haven’t a clue what went on between you and Barry but if seeing him makes Charlie feel better —’

  ‘If it makes Charlie feel better,’ he repeated sarcastically. ‘Oh, that’s all right then, as long it makes Charlie … I just want him to forget, this will rake everything up. Barry’s sure to ask questions, may even want to hear about the day my mother and Charlie came back from the zoo.’

  ‘Oh, come on, I’m sure he’d never do that.’

  ‘You don’t know Barry. All right, now you’re going to tell me it’s a good idea, everything chewed over, spat out, faced up to. Well you’d have to believe that or you’d be out of a job.’

  ‘Why is it so long since they met?’ I said, refusing to rise to the bait.
‘Why did Nikki stop taking him there?’

  He stamped on the cigarette end. ‘Who knows? I suppose after Charlie started at school she couldn’t be bothered. Anyway, before that she’d virtually stopped visiting, or if she did see Barry it was without Charlie.’ He started walking across the grass. ‘I bought you a new doorbell. I don’t suppose you noticed.’

  ‘You’ve been in the annexe?’

  ‘I could hardly install it from the garden. Listen, Charlie’s playing some game on his computer — surprise, surprise — can you stay here while I buy some bread?’

  ‘As long as you go straight there and back, otherwise I’ll be late for work.’

  He nodded vaguely, feeling in his pocket for some loose change, then taking off his glasses and cleaning them with the piece of shirt that was hanging out of his jeans. When he was almost out of earshot he called over his shoulder. ‘Seen that McGhee bloke again, have you?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘No reason, just thought he sounded your type. Nikki’s too.’

  Fifteen minutes later he was still not back. Charlie had left his computer and I could see him in the kitchen, taking biscuits out of a tin, then struggling to replace the lid.

  He came out into the garden, brushing crumbs off his Bristol City strip. ‘Where’s Dad?’

  ‘Gone to buy bread.’

  ‘We’ve got bread. There’s nearly a whole loaf.’

  ‘Really? You’re sure? Look, stay there. I’m going to look down the road.’

  If I waited any longer I would definitely be late and all the effort I had put in, trying to stop the students appearing in dribs and drabs after the seminar had already started, would have been a waste of time.

  Charlie joined me on the pavement. His hair was still wet and his face was shiny clean. ‘I’m going to see Barry,’ he said. ‘He’s coming at two o’clock, only I don’t know how he’s getting here.’

  ‘Hasn’t he got a car?’