A Genuine Mistake

by Ted Tayler

  “That wasn’t strictly true, though, was it?” said Luke. “Gerry had a good deal of help from his sister, Belinda. He couldn’t have raised Sean and Byron alone and continue to develop his financial services firm.”

  “Belinda was a cow,” said Rachel. “I’m sorry, but she was a bitter spinster who saw Gerry as a surrogate husband. Belinda treated those boys as if they were her flesh and blood. From the minute I met her, she did everything possible to drive a wedge between us. Gerry couldn’t see it. He loved me, loved the boys, and we lived in this house for four wonderful years. Belinda couldn’t stand getting shut out. When the will surfaced after Gerry’s death, that was the final straw. Belinda started the rumour that I’d persuaded Gerry to change his will, then paid someone to kill him. Gerry didn’t tell me much about the old will because it was none of my business. We were looking to the future. I was thirty, Gerry was over twenty years older, but we should have had another twenty years together, at least. There was no rush to make a will. We weren’t married. Gerry had never asked me, but I expected him to ask one day, maybe once the boys got settled. I would have said yes because I loved him, and we were perfect together. It was ludicrous to suggest I wanted him dead.”

  And yet, someone did, thought Gus.

  CHAPTER 6

  “I don’t wish to go through every step of what happened that Sunday evening, Ms Cummins,” said Gus. “I realise it was painful. Can I perhaps pose a series of questions to check that I have my ducks in a row?”

  “I’ll never forget what happened, Mr Freeman,” said Rachel, “and I can’t imagine that I’ll tell you something different to what I told the detectives six years ago. Despite what you said earlier.”

  “We’ll see,” said Gus. “How did that Sunday differ from any other before six-thirty in the evening?”

  “The boys didn’t get up until lunchtime. That was normal. I was just as fond of my bed when I was that age. Gerry and I ate breakfast alone. He popped into town to get a few things from the supermarket while I cooked Sunday dinner. In the winter months, we ate in the evenings, but from May to September, we ate earlier, so we had the rest of the day to do whatever we chose. That Sunday we ate at five o’clock. There was no way the boys and Gerry wanted to drive to the coast or visit a country park that weekend.”

  “They were keen on snooker,” said Luke.

  “They played here in the games room whenever they had the chance.”

  “Was the gym here when you moved in?” asked Gus.

  “No. Gerry extended the ground floor to accommodate my gym and a bigger kitchen. That work finished six months after I came here.”

  “Did Gerry and the boys ever make use of the gym?” asked Luke.

  “Gerry used it more than the boys. He didn’t mind working out with me. Sean and Byron were teenagers, and their bodies were changing. They felt uncomfortable exercising with me. I never pushed it. They used the gym alone or together when I was away working.”

  “Did you exercise every Sunday evening?” asked Gus.

  “Not if we’d had a long day out as a family, no,” said Rachel. “Around that time, I was developing new routines that needed polishing before I could introduce them to my clients. You can’t keep doing the same things forever. I wanted to freshen things up, and that Sunday was one of those occasions.”

  “You must have been annoyed at getting interrupted,” said Gus. “Surely one of the boys could have gone to see who was at the front door?”

  “Do you have teenage sons, Mr Freeman?” asked Rachel.

  “I have not,” said Gus.

  “Sean and Byron wouldn’t stop what they were doing to do something so mundane. Well, Gerry preferred one of the grown-ups to answer, anyway. He said you never knew who it was or what they wanted. So, when Gerry didn’t respond, I decided I had better.”

  “You grabbed a towel, wiped yourself down, and dashed to the door,” said Luke.

  “What did you see?” asked Gus.

  “A tall, white man, casually dressed who was half-turned away from me.”

  “Like a cold-caller, who is half-expecting you to tell him you’re not interested before he gets the chance to say what he’s selling,” said Gus.

  Rachel laughed. Gus thought what a pleasant sound it made. It was easy to see why Gerry Hogan had fallen for her.

  “Spot on. Mr Freeman. I hadn’t thought of it that way before, but yes, I thought he was a nuisance caller as soon as I set eyes on him. Nobody turned up on a Sunday evening without calling first. As I said, we went out as a family during the summer months.”

  “There was no chance you had ever seen the man before?” asked Luke.

  “Never,” said Rachel. “A total stranger.”

  “Were you surprised when he asked for Gerry by name?” asked Gus.

  “Yes. He didn’t look like a man that Gerry would know. Does that sound awful? Gerry was no snob, but most of his friends were professional men, if you know what I mean.”

  “Men similar to Nick Barrett, the solicitor, and the well-to-do clients that Gerry handled.”

  “Yes, Nick and Gerry went way back. He has a rather high opinion of himself, but Nick’s harmless, bless him.”

  “You saw little of him, though?” asked Luke.

  “Nick didn’t visit while I was here. He might have done while Evelyn was alive. Nick met her in Australia too, of course. No, Gerry and the boys saw Nick regularly in Bradford-on-Avon. They played snooker together at the club on Market Street.”

  “We’ve learned something new today,” said Gus. “I told you we would.”

  “I don’t follow,” said Rachel.

  “The police were searching for a tall, white, casually dressed man of indeterminate age,” said Gus. “They should have added that the man’s casual attire suggested he was of working-class origin.”

  “He was scruffier than Sean or Byron ever were, that’s for sure,” said Rachel. She was staring out of the sunroom window as if she was back on the front doorstep on May the sixth, six years ago. “His trainers were well worn, and he didn’t tie the laces. He tucked them into the tops as lads did back then.”

  “Early to mid-twenties then,” said Luke, “but certainly no older.”

  “I suppose so,” said Rachel. “I don’t know why that came back to me. I’ve tried to put it behind me.”

  “You only stood at the door for a few seconds,” said Gus. “Did you wonder how he’d got to Trowle Common?”

  “I didn’t give it a thought,” said Rachel.

  “How did we get here today?” asked Gus.

  “By car, I presume.”

  “It’s parked a yard beyond the gateway, on the right. Could you see it from the door?”

  “Only a blur. I wear glasses when I’m doing paperwork, but I’m too vain to wear them at any other time. I tried contact lenses, but they irritated me too much. Why?”

  “A neighbour heard a motorcycle leave the area at around six forty-five,” said Gus. “If you had caught even a glimpse, you would have known it was something only a youngster would ride. When you matched that to the trainers and the man’s general demeanour, you would have given DI Kirkpatrick a far more accurate description of the man.”

  “I wanted to get back to the gym,” said Rachel. “I didn’t know the man. I didn’t know what business Gerry could have with him. My new routines needed practice, so I called Gerry and returned to the gym.”

  “Were you preparing these routines to music?” asked Luke.

  “Yes,” said Rachel.

  “How did you hear the doorbell?” he asked.

  “If you want the grand tour later, you can see what Gerry had installed. He rigged up a discreet security system in the principal rooms. Everywhere except the two bathrooms. An amber light shines when someone rings the doorbell. A green light shows the landline in the hallway. If we saw a red light, one of us had to call 999 because it meant that burglars had broken in through an external door or window. I had my headphones on when the doorbell
rang, but I spotted the amber light flashing above the gym door.”

  “What about when Sean called for his Dad at a quarter to seven?” asked Gus.

  “I had almost finished what I wanted to do,” said Rachel. “I’d taken off the headphones and was tidying away the equipment I’d used. I heard Sean shout and wondered why Gerry hadn’t got rid of that guy yet. So, I went through to the hallway and looked outside.”

  “What did you do next?” asked Gus.

  “I screamed and ran outside to see if there was something I could do, but it was pointless. Gerry was dead. I looked up to see Sean and Byron stood in the doorway, frozen with shock. I told Sean to go back indoors and phone the emergency services. It was a nightmare.”

  “When you first walked outside, did you see or hear anything?” asked Gus.

  “The man had gone. I didn’t hear a car or a motorcycle, or someone running. Nothing.”

  “A trying time for everyone involved,” said Gus. “After the funeral, and the business with the will, what happened?”

  “I went back to work,” said Rachel. “It was important for me to continue to pay my way. Gerry earned enough that I didn’t need to work, but I insisted. Sean was eighteen and was soon off to university. He spent his holidays here; of course, it was still his home. Byron left school that summer after failing most of his GCSE’s. He knew where he wanted to be, and it wasn’t at school doing A-Levels and going to university like Sean.”

  “He wanted to be on the green baize,” said Gus.

  “Exactly,” said Rachel. “He was off to Q School. Gerry would have wanted me to help Byron achieve his dream, so I did everything I could. Sean wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps.”

  “Who suggested employing a manager to cover the period between Gerry’s death and Sean graduating?” asked Luke.

  “Nobody,” said Rachel. “It was common sense. Daniel has been a godsend.”

  “That’s Daniel Braund, is it?” asked Gus. “Where did you find him?”

  “I advertised in the relevant magazines and interviewed the three people whose CV’s appeared to match the same qualifications Gerry possessed. It’s not rocket science. When I sat in the same room as the three people on my short-list, Daniel stood out as the best candidate. I made the right choice. Daniel held the firm steady after it had lost its founder, made slight improvements in performance in the interim, and then helped Sean get settled. Daniel took the job believing it was for the short term. He’s not far off retirement, but Sean valued his input so highly that he persuaded Daniel to stay.”

  “So, does Byron come home from time to time?” asked Gus.

  “There’s not much of an off-season with snooker,” said Rachel. “The weather doesn’t play a part. Byron’s home for a week, here and there.”

  “What about Sean?”

  “He sleeps here when he’s not at his girlfriend’s,” said Rachel. “They met at university. She comes from Gloucester.”

  “Does his girlfriend come here?”

  “Clare comes with Sean, now and then.”

  “After Gerry died, was there ever an awkward moment with the boys?” asked Luke.

  “You can’t help yourself, can you? I loved Gerry. Yes, he was forty-nine when we met, and I was twenty-five. Gerry didn’t bring me here to meet the boys at first. We met up for meals in restaurants in Bath and Trowbridge to break the ice. They knew their Dad was seeing someone. Then the four of us flew out to the Algarve and had a great holiday in the sun. Gerry told the boys in the car on the way back from Bristol Airport that I was coming to live with them.”

  “Did they accept you straight away?” asked Gus.

  “There was never any animosity,” said Rachel. “Of course, it took time for us to adjust. I’d never lived with anyone before. I was an only child, so I didn’t have any experience of sharing a house with boys. I loved being around Gerry. Maybe I missed pointers that Sean and Byron resented me taking the place of their Mum, but they never said a word. You must ask them. As for awkward moments, Gerry and I slept at one end of the house, and the boys' bedrooms were a distance away. They used the family bathroom. Gerry and I had the en-suite. It was quite civilised, DS Sherman.”

  “I’m sure it was, Ms Cummins,” said Luke. “But you can understand why Belinda Hogan took issue with a thirty-year-old single woman sharing a house with two teenage boys.”

  “Belinda accused me of corrupting a minor,” said Rachel.

  “Byron was sixteen when Gerry died,” said Luke.

  “I read the newspapers,” said Rachel. “Teachers go to prison for having intercourse with a student, and teenage lads jump in bed with their mate’s mother. Sean and Byron never tried it on with me. I wasn’t interested in them. Gerry was everything to me. When he died, I didn’t want to think about anyone else. Remember what I said earlier. Sean left home and went to university. Byron went to Q School. The only time the three of us have spent any length of time together under this roof was between the sixth of May and September when the boys started their new term or career. The three of us spent that time grieving for Gerry.”

  “Has there been anyone since for you?” asked Gus.

  “I’ve had the same life as I had when I first moved to Bath, Mr Freeman. Trips to the theatre, concerts, the cinema, evenings with friends that I’ve met through work. I’ve visited restaurants with Daniel Braund and his wife. Daniel brought Simian along, a younger colleague from his previous firm in Bristol. We met up several times after that, but there was no spark as far as I was concerned.”

  “You hinted that we could look around the house earlier,” said Gus. “Is that possible?”

  “I don’t know how it will help find Gerry’s killer,” said Rachel.

  She stood up, collected their cups, and put them on the tray.

  “Follow me, and we’ll start in the kitchen.”

  Gus and Luke trailed along behind Rachel Cummins as she showed them each of the rooms on the ground floor. Luke gave a low whistle when they entered the gym.

  “You could run classes at home with the professional equipment you have here.”

  “Never in a million years,” laughed Rachel. “Gerry wanted this place to be a home, not an extension to the office,”

  The games room was in good order, but the snooker table had a protective cover. A thin layer of dust on the rack holding cues and rests suggested it didn’t get used as much as it did when the boys lived here full time.

  There was a good-sized lounge at the front of the house with comfortable chairs and a wide-screen TV. A corridor between the lounge wall and the games room wall led to the original building's right-hand extension. There Gus and Luke found a dining room and another small living room.

  “We ate in the kitchen more often than not,” said Rachel. “The extension was more Evelyn’s domain. She and Gerry ate here, and Evelyn read in the smaller room or watched TV while Gerry and the boys watched sport.”

  “You have changed nothing at this end of the house?” asked Gus.

  “I rarely come here,” said Rachel. “Why would I?”

  She led them upstairs to the large landing and pointed to the far end. Gus could see what she meant when she said the boys were a distance from the bedroom that she and Gerry shared. The family bathroom was half the size of the entire floor area of his bungalow. The master en-suite was on the right-hand side of the corridor, next to one bedroom.

  “That’s Byron’s room,” said Rachel. “Sean’s is on the opposite side, next to Evelyn’s studio.”

  “You haven’t altered that either?” asked Gus.

  “I’ve never set foot inside,” said Rachel. “Gerry wanted it kept as it was when Evelyn flew to Sydney. Sean and Byron never asked for the key to open the door.”

  “Were you never tempted?” asked Luke.

  “Never,” said Rachel.

  “I understand Gerry’s reaction,” said Gus. “My wife dropped dead with a brain aneurysm almost four years ago now. I was in Swindon Crown Cou
rt, watching criminals face justice. They were men involved in a case I’d worked on before my retirement. After the guilty verdicts, my old team wanted to take me out to celebrate. I arrived home in a taxi, late at night, thinking I’d creep in to bed next to Tess and apologise for getting drunk when I saw her in the morning. I found her on the kitchen floor with her hands covered in flour where she’d been baking. There was nothing anyone could have done. The doctor told me that Tess was dead before she hit the floor. Even if I’d been home that day, I couldn’t have saved her. It took me a long time to come to terms with my loss. No doubt, it was the same for Gerry. I took Tess’s newer clothes and accessories to charity shops and the other stuff to the tip. I’ve held on to a handful of items that help keep her memory alive. Perhaps when Gerry was here, alone, he sat in that room, and Evelyn returned to him.”

  “He never said a thing to me,” said Rachel.

  “That’s understandable too,” said Gus. “Gerry found you, and after five years, was ready to move on with a new relationship. However, there were two of you in that relationship, not three. Gerry would take care not to say Evelyn would do it this way, or Evelyn wanted that shrub to stay where it was. You avoid the east wing because that was Evelyn’s domain. You didn’t suggest converting the studio into your gym rather than go to the expense of extending the west wing to make the kitchen larger and house your gym on the ground floor.”

  “I take it you’ve had a similar experience?” asked Rachel.

  “After Tess died, I spent months in our bungalow alone. We had only just moved from Downton, near Salisbury, where we both worked for years. I didn’t have friends to talk to, and I would have been miserable company if I had. I found my way out of the darkness in time, with the help of one villager and books Tess left lying around that I’d never had time to read. When the opportunity arose to work with this team six months ago, I thought long and hard whether it was what I needed. I took a chance, and not only was I working again, but I socialised. I found someone who had a similar effect on me as Gerry had on you. We’ve not lived together that long, but I’ve moved those few things of Tess’s that I kept twice so far, and we’ve never sat down to talk about Tess in any detail. Her climbing roses on the bungalow wall are crying out for TLC, but Suzie wouldn’t dream of suggesting she did something to them.”