by Tony McHale
As Charlie drove back to The Black Dog he knew that his father’s infidelity could have been the reason his mother virtually wrote him out of her will. But he was also quite certain within himself that Jed hadn’t killed her. His father, despite his extra-marital misdemeanours, in his own way loved Caroline and the shock he showed on her death Charlie believed to be real and genuine. Also the police couldn’t have known about his father’s affair, or surely they would have brought that up as a motive. Charlie would prefer to keep them from knowing for two reasons. Firstly he didn’t want them to have an excuse to drag Jed back into the frame and secondly, he wanted to keep focused. If they arrested his father again, it would be just another distraction.
Although Charlie hadn’t heard Tyler’s comment on his lack of guts, he was at that moment considering why he was continuing with the pursuit of his mother’s killer. After all things weren’t exactly going his way. But he concluded the real reason he was continuing had nothing to do with guts, it was to do with anger and frustration. And he knew if you were angry and frustrated, then you didn’t need guts.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
When Charlie got back to The Black Dog his father and Farrah were still behind the bar. There were a few punters left in the pub, Lucas and Amos amongst them. Only Farrah had seen Charlie in person since Devika’s tragic accident.
As Charlie approached the bar, all eyes followed him; even if they were doing so in a surreptitious way. Jed poured him a glass of red wine. “It might not be Farrah’s standard, but it’s okay. It’s not your house crap.”
Charlie knew this was his father’s way of trying to bridge some emotional gap.
“Thanks dad,” said Charlie picking up the glass and taking a drink. “Yeah it’s good.”
“Sorry about your friend.” Jed managed to make his sympathy sound like he was putting a bet on a race. But Charlie appreciated the fact he’d managed to say something. He looked at his father. He knew nothing about his life. He always believed his relationship with his mother wasn’t passionate, but it was solid. Now there was something else in the mix. He wasn’t going to confront his dad, at least not yet; he knew that would be pointless. He needed to find some proof behind what Tyler had told him.
The following morning Charlie arrived at the offices of Norman Banasak. Banasak had dealt with all the ‘legal’ affairs that the Ashton’s had been involved with. This meant the purchasing of The Black Dog, odd licensing problems and bits and bobs that had occurred. He was told by a pencil thin secretary that he was already at lunch across the road at The George and Dragon pub. It wasn’t quite yet midday, but apparently Banasak wasn’t adverse to an early lunch.
Charlie crossed the road and as soon as he entered the pub, he spotted Banasak. This wasn’t because the pub had only a handful of customers, it was because Banasak was easy to spot. He was a large man, often described as morbidly obese and he was at a table tucking into what looked like steak and kidney pie with chips and beans. Banasak enjoyed his food.
Charlie approached him. “Mr Banasak?”
Banasak looked up, a large chunk of pie on his up turned fork.
“Charlie Ashton … Jed and Caroline’s son.”
“Of course … of course. Sit … sit.” Banasak gestured at the chair opposite. As Charlie sat down he realised because of Banasak’s size it was hard to determine his age. For the length of time his parents had been one of his clients, Charlie thought he must be in his sixties at least, but looks wise he could be in his thirties.
“Would you like a drink?” offered Banasak. Then picked up the remainder of his pint of lager and downed it in one.
“Denise … I’ll have another pint … and …” Banasak looked at Charlie.
“And a half … of lager . Thanks – I’m driving.”
“And a half,” yelled Banasak in case she hadn’t heard. “Food … do you want some food. Do great pies here … good selection too.”
“No … I’m fine thanks.”
“You don’t mind if I …” Banasak gestured towards his plate, meaning would Charlie mind if he continued eating.
“No, please, go ahead.”
It would have been a brave man who’d try and stop him, thought Charlie.
“Let me offer you my condolences,” Banasak said shovelling some more pie on his fork.
“Thank-you,” replied Charlie politely.
“Terrible thing. Terrible shock. Is that why you wanted to see me … or were you just passing? Because I have to tell you right from the off … I didn’t handle your mother’s Will.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Banasak still wasn’t sure why he was here.
“My parents have used you as their lawyer since as far back as I remember.”
“It’s been a long time … that’s for sure.” Banasak smiled as if to show his appreciation of his long-term clients.
“Did my mother mention to you that she was going to another solicitors to write a Will?”
Banasak looked at Charlie as Denise arrived with the drinks. Charlie reached in his pocket for some money, but Banasak stopped him.
“It’s okay … they’ll put them on my tab. Thanks Denise.”
“Always a pleasure,” quipped Denise.
“Whatever the weather,” tagged Banasak. This was clearly some ongoing ritual between the two of them.
“Cheers.” Charlie lifted his glass and took a mouthful of lager, then continued trying to make it sound of no importance whatsoever.
“Sherman and Shaw … or it might have been Shaw and Sherman …”
“Bit awkward for me, all this,” said Banasak. “Client confidentiality and all that … Boom – boom. Cheers.” He downed nearly half a pint in seconds.
“I don’t want to know the exact words …” - he did really - ” I just want to know if she came to see you.”
“Yes … she came to see me.” Banasak didn’t see how this was breaching any client confidentiality.
“And that was about her Will.”
“Yes.”
“She wanted to change it. And she wanted to make sure the previous Will was null and void?”
“Not exactly.” Banasak was somehow into details without realising.
“So what did she want?” continued Charlie as if he was talking about something totally trivial.
“She wanted me to write her a new Will”
“But you didn’t …” Charlie paused for a moment, then it hit him. “Because you advised her to go somewhere else. A conflict of interests and all that.”
“There’s nothing illegal about me drawing up Wills for husbands and wives, partners … whoever …”
“But in this case you thought it better for some reason.”
“Yes,” replied Banasak as if it were the end of that particular conversation.
“Can I ask what that reason was.” Charlie looked at him as if the question was perfectly reasonable.
“I’m not sure I should …”
“I know what the new Will said … so it’s not personal information I’m after. I just want to know why you would think it better she went somewhere else.”
“I just didn’t want to be involved … I’ve known your parents a long time.”
“Involved in what?”
“Their personal business.”
“This was because my father had an affair.”
Banasak stopped eating for the first time. This was getting personal, no doubt about it.
“You know about that.”
“Yeah … I know all about it. I just couldn’t think why my mother would go so far as writing him out of her Will.”
“He wasn’t a bad man. I said that to her. If I ever call in at The Black Dog … your dad is a proper landlord. Welcomes you prop
er. He’s as much a friend as a client. So I just didn’t want to get involved.”
“But something had really upset my mum.”
“I didn’t go into the details … but I think it’s cos kids were involved.”
Charlie had to stop himself looking and sounding shocked.
There were kids involved? What the hell was he playing at?
“I think she’d known quite a while, but I suspect something else had happened and she thought enough’s enough. Nice woman your mother.”
Banasak resumed eating and Charlie took another sip of lager. His father not only had an affair, but he also had children. His mother changed her Will because of the children, presumably she didn’t want them getting their hands on her hard earned cash, but why would any of this get her killed?
Meeting Banasak Charlie had learned a lot about his mother and father, but not a lot about Caroline’s death. However he couldn’t help thinking that the two were inextricably connected.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Devika’s parents’ first stop on their arrival in North Yorkshire was the police station. They’d received a visit from their local police just as they were having breakfast. A young looking police woman informed them their daughter had been killed in a car crash just outside Whitby. They were both devastated. Madhur and Anju both cancelled their morning surgeries, getting other doctors to cover for them.
They had lost their only daughter … their only child.
When Devika had decided to quit her studies and pursue a modelling career, they knew they’d played it all wrong. They had a knee jerk reaction and told Devika that no daughter of theirs was ever going to be some model. She was far too intelligent for that. No it wasn’t going to happen. They had spent a fortune on her education and she was going to continue in medical school.
But this was Twenty-First Century England and Devika took no notice of her parents’ threats and headed for London. She was soon a major success. Relations with her parents did improve for a short time, until she met Charlie. When she told them she was moving in with him, they kicked off again. No daughter of theirs was going to live with a man without marrying him and they were never going to give their blessings for her to marry the likes of Charlie Ashton. They knew all about his dirty tricks. But once again Devika ignored her parents and moved in with Charlie.
Since then she had spoken to them occasionally but the conversations were tense and brief. They had no idea she was in Yorkshire, but they had a good idea why she was there. The murder of Charlie Ashton’s mother had featured in every newspaper, so Devika being in the area wasn’t a surprise to them.
For a great deal of the journey they’d discussed whether they should get in touch with Charlie, offer their condolences, but both had come to the decision that they shouldn’t. Neither of them could guarantee they would be civil with him. After all the only reason Devika was here was because of him. If it hadn’t been for him, she would still be alive.
The truth was they both were angry that they’d never been able to say good-bye to her. Both of them had realised that trying to impose some antiquated, rigid life style on their daughter had been stupid, but neither would admit that to the other. Their stubbornness had lost them their daughter, both knew it, but neither said it.
Chief Superintendent Naylor was accompanied by WPC Anthea Moorhouse. She was family liaison and was there to try and support Madhur and Anju Bahl. She was twenty years younger than Naylor, but had allowed him to grope her on a couple of occasions. She knew Naylor was an officer who could make or break careers, so she thought having him on her side was worth letting him have the odd feel.
“What actually caused her to leave the road, we’re still trying to determine.”
“You say she was by herself?” asked Madhur whilst he gave his thin beard a rub with the back of his hand.
“Yes.”
“Where was her boyfriend?”
“You mean Charlie Ashton?”
“Yes … Charlie Ashton,” Madhur said the name in such a way that there was no doubt how he now felt about the paparazzi photographer. At this moment he was convinced his daughter’s death was down to him.
“She was here with him, wasn’t she?” interjected Anju.
“Yes … as far as we know.”
“So where was he?”
Naylor knew where he was. He was at The Black Dog giving himself a first rate alibi, but he couldn’t say that, because him knowing that would open a whole can of worms. Anthea thought he mustn’t know the answer, so she tried earning some Brownie points.
“That is all part of the investigation,” Anthea said taking the pressure off Naylor.
“Are you sure he wasn’t driving … drunk? Crashed the car and then ran off leaving Devika?” This was one of the many scenarios that Madhur and Anju had gone through on the journey. This was one of the less fanciful.
“We’ve not ruled anything out, but at the moment it’s not a line of enquiry we’re pursuing.” Anthea to the rescue again.
Anthea glanced at Naylor and she could see from his expression that he was pleased with the way she was handling the situation.
The interview continued for another forty-five minutes till eventually the Bahls realised they were not going to get any concrete information from the police and asked to see their daughter.
Anthea took them to the morgue. Although Devika had been a bit of a mess, the mortician had done a good job making her presentable. Anthea then drove them to the hotel, which by coincidence was the same hotel Charlie and their daughter had stayed in days before. Anthea gave them her card promising to keep them informed about any progress that should occur with regards to the accident and also reinforcing the fact they could ring her any time … night or day.
Anthea was thinking of going straight home, when she got a call from Naylor. He wanted to see her. He wanted to know how it had gone.
When she arrived back at the station she went straight to Naylor’s office where he’d poured himself a Scotch. He asked her if she wanted one. She didn’t, but she knew that wasn’t the right thing to say, so she had a drink while she went through what had happened with the Bahls.
“Do you think there was anybody else involved in the accident?” asked Naylor.
“Couldn’t rightly say sir. I’d rather leave that to the RTA boys.”
“I just don’t want this thing blowing out of all proportion, just because she was some model. They’re camping out on the roadside … did you know that?”
“Yes sir.”
“I mean it’s bloody stupid. She’s hardly John Lennon is she,” said Naylor picking up the bottle of Scotch and moving to top up Anthea’s glass.
“No sir.”
“No to the drink … or no to the fact she’s not John Lennon?”
“Both sir. I’m driving.”
“Come on … a drop more’s not going to harm.” Without waiting for another negative response he topped up her glass, which had hardly been touched, if at all. “You did well today Anthea, really well,” he continued. “After liaison what’s it going to be?”
“Not sure sir. Maybe CID.”
“You just let me know,” said Naylor as he placed the bottle of Scotch back on his desk and moved round the back of her. “Because I can make things happen. I have the power.”
Anthea wasn’t surprised when she felt his hand on her shoulder. She knew what this meeting was all about as soon as she walked into the office. It was a grope fest.
“So you just tell me what it is you want and I’ll see what I can do.”
Naylor’s hand slipped down the front of her cardigan and undid the top two buttons.
“Will you do that?” he asked as if he was sitting in the canteen with her.
“Yes sir,” she replied not even trying to stop him.
Naylor slipped his hand into her bra and started to play with her nipple. He then moved round to the front of her, eased her breast out of her bra and he lowered his head to her nipple, whilst his hand moved slowly up her skirt. Sex wasn’t on her mind when she’d dressed for work that morning, so her tights were going to prove a problem for Naylor’s advances. As he sucked her nipple he struggled to get his hand in the top of her tights and probably would have succeeded if his mobile hadn’t rung. He was in two minds whether to leave it, but then he thought he better not, it could be important. He picked up the phone.
“Chief Superintendent Naylor …”
As he listened he watched Anthea rearrange herself so no one would guess she’d allowed herself to be pawed. She wondered what her boyfriend would do if he found out. She knew what he’d want to do and that would be to kill Naylor, but Paul was a Sergeant in the CID and he wanted to rise up the ranks, so getting into some sexual harassment case wasn’t a good idea. She knew Naylor liked him. He often had him carry out investigations, which should have gone to more senior officers. No … there was no need to rock the boat. Best just let things carry on as they were. With a bit of luck Paul would soon be Inspector Armstrong and then his plan was to move back to West Yorkshire where his ageing father still lived. Naturally Anthea would go with him, leaving Naylor to get his kicks elsewhere.
“What is it?” said Naylor into his mobile, but he wasn’t angry, he even seemed excited. He looked across at Anthea. “I was busy, but if it’s important.”
Anthea didn’t think it sounded important in the least, in fact quite the reverse, but whoever it was on the other end of the phone Naylor thought he should see them.
Anthea started to signal to him that she would see herself out and Naylor gave her a thumbs up like he would some mate he’d played golf with. Anthea quite relieved slipped out of the office as Naylor continued with the call.
“Why do you need proof?”
He listened as the person on the other end of the phone basically called him untrustworthy, without actually saying those words. As they talked Naylor took the envelope out of his brief case and placed it on his desk.
