Angus thought for a moment. Someone who’d wish her harm? I bloody well wish her harm, he thought. In his mind’s eye he could see the picture of her on the sun lounger, the description of how she was screwing the gardener, and the spare bed he’d been forced to sleep in. But in the end, all he could say was “No.”
“Okay,” said the Detective Sergeant. “The third group is the one that I think includes Mrs Macintosh. A missing person who has voluntarily gone away. Everything we are seeing here tells a story of a person who’s been planning to leave. There’s very strong evidence that she left of her own choosing. There’s no signs of a fight, no obvious forced entry into the house, and finally there’s the contents of the emails.” She left that last bit hanging.
“So where is she?”
“We don’t know,” said the PC, “but if Maggie’s as well prepared as this, she was on her way to Wales, Ireland and across the Atlantic soon after you left for Scotland. According to this schedule she’s probably on a train or with her brother by now.”
“That’s not possible,” said Josie, remembering her conversation with Claudilia the previous day. “I saw Ms Belcher cycling back from the Manor on Saturday afternoon. I was in the pub garden with my children and husband. When I talked to her yesterday at the funeral she said she’d been to see your wife, but she was busy with the gardener.” Her voice trailed off, as she realised what she’d said, and what Claudilia had meant by “not looking as if she wanted to be interrupted.”
“And there are no prizes for what they were busy doing,” said Angus.
“I think we should see Ms Belcher and get some clarification,” Said the PC.
“Can we have a look around the rest of the house first please sir,” asked DS Josie. She didn’t want to intrude on Angus’s privacy, but there were procedures to be followed.
Angus took them upstairs and showed them the bedrooms. One for each of the children, a guest room, the one he’d been using, and the master bedroom.
“Separate bedrooms?” asked Josie, not meaning to imply anything.
“Yes, she said it’s because of my snoring. Now I’m not so sure.”
They started in the master bedroom, Maggie’s room. The police sergeant searched methodically, the way she’d been taught and missing nothing. She opened drawers full of expensive underwear, she looked through the wardrobe where beautiful dresses hung above rows of designer shoes. In the dressing table she found jewellery. Eventually she looked in the nightstand drawer.
The box of condoms came as no surprise to Josie, but Angus hadn’t known about them. “I’ve had a vasectomy,” he said quietly. Josie looked at him with sympathy. Everyone in the room knew they weren’t meant for use with him, but nobody wanted to say what they were thinking. Maggie had been screwing other men in their bed. It was bad enough to be cheated on by your wife, but in the bed you should be sharing, well that’s just rude! Josie opened the bottom cupboard and found the handcuffs and vibrator. She looked at Angus who just shook his head. Like the condoms, he’d not seen them before.
In the bathroom a few personal items were gone, toothbrush, wash bag and make up… There are some things a girl just can’t do without. It appeared that Maggie had only taken what she stood up in, and what she could carry with ease.
Satisfied they’d looked in all the rooms, and that Mrs Macintosh wasn’t under a bed or dead in the bath, the three of them went out to the gymnasium. “Maggie comes out here for two hours in the morning and an hour in the afternoon. That bloody woman Tish, comes over for an hour each day to give her a workout,” said Angus.
“What time does she come?” asked Josie.
“All sorts of time, she always seems to be here.”
“Has she come here since Maggie went missing?”
“No. I called to see if she knew where Maggie might be, but she hasn’t been here.”
“We’ll have to see her. Can you give us her number?” said Josie. “If she was in on Maggie’s plan she may not want to tell you. Let’s see how she responds to a few questions from the police.”
The gym was impressive. There was a sprung wooden floor and a bank of mirrors along one wall. Angus walked in and sat on the press bench. The police officers walked around the room looking at bits of equipment and notes pinned to the wall. It appeared that Maggie had a wide variety of workouts planned. Some for arms shoulders and back, others for legs tums and bums. She had a sound system with wall mounted speakers and each routine had it’s own track.
Angus looked down at the floor. By the leg of the bench he noticed an earring. A horse shoe stud, not something Maggie would wear, not even something she’d own. There was only one person he knew who was likely to have an earring like that. Claudilia must have been in the gym, and recently too. Why had Claudilia been in here Angus wondered. Quietly, and without wanting to attract attention, Angus moved his foot over the earring. He leaned down to fiddle with his shoe lace, he picked up the piece of jewellery and slid his hand into his pocket. It was safe now, it wouldn’t be found there, and he needed time to think.
The Detective Sergeant and the Constable had finished. Maggie was not on the premises. Her personal items were gone and there was clear evidence that she’d been planning to leave. Josie and Paul Tipton said they would file the report and inform the UK missing persons data base. The information would go onto the Police National Computer as well as being shared with several non-government agencies, one who deal with the missing and homeless. Privately both Josie and Paul thought Maggie was out of the country, probably in Canada or the USA by now. At the very least she’d be in the Republic of Ireland.
“What’s next asked Angus.
“We’ll have a word with Miss Belcher to establish the time she last saw Maggie,” said Josie. “Then we’ll go back to the station and put the details on the computer. We’ll talk to ‘Tish and, if we can, I would like a word with the gardener too.
“I’d like a few words with the fucking gardener myself.”
“That may not be a good idea sir,” said DS Robinson. “I can understand your frustration, but taking the law into your own hands could land you in a heap of trouble, and it’s unlikely to bring your wife home.”
“So what can I do?”
“You can email me a photo of your wife and some contact numbers for the people we’ve talked about. You should add anything else you think of which might help our enquiries.” Josie passed Angus a Warwickshire police business card. On the back she’d written her work mobile number and her email address.
“Do you need to take her computer,” asked Angus.
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, but if we do, then the constable can come back and collect it.” said Josie, turning to her colleague. Paul nodded his agreement and they both climbed into the Skoda. Angus watched them go down the drive then returned to the house, The house where he’d been living with a woman he hardly knew.
Chapter Forty-Six
“What do you think?” asked Josie as they turned out of the drive and started the short trip to the village.
“I think all that stuff about his wife was news to him. Either that or he’s the world’s best actor. I mean, he admitted she wasn’t the easiest person to live with. But he had no idea she was screwing around, and hiding money from him. The look on his face told us that.”
“Yes, I know what you mean,” said Josie. “I think she knew he was going away and picked her moment to leave. I just wish Claudilia Belcher hadn’t been the last person to see her. That bloody woman is turning up everywhere at the moment.”
By now they’d arrived at the village. They parked outside Bindweed Cottage, next to the repaired wall, and Josie knocked on the door. No reply, she knocked again but still no noise from within. After a moment, the two officers walked around the house and into the garden where they thought they might find her. Claudilia wasn’t in the garden, but as she looked across the fields between the house and the stable block Josie could see that the horse box was back. And the
re was Claudilia, leaning on the paddock gate fussing not one but two monster horses.
Claudilia wasn’t surprised to see them walking into the yard. She’d already told the Detective Sergeant that she’d seen Maggie on Saturday and she felt safe saying they’d talked at church the following morning. There’d been too many people around for her to deny it, even if she’d wanted to.
“Who’s this,” asked Josie stroking Rosie on the nose. “I know the other one’s Pumpkin, but you’re new to me.”
“Rosie meet Josie,” Claudilia said to the horse. “Josie meet Rosie,” she said to the detective.
“Have you bought another horse Claudilia, Pumpkin is nowhere near retirement age is he?”
“No, I’ve not bought her. I’m looking after her for a friend who doesn’t have time to ride at the moment.”
The three of them walked across to the tack room where Josie and the PC sat on the edge of a scruffy old settee. It was covered in marks from spilled tea, and with its stuffing poking out from the tares in one arm. Claudilia sat on an armchair, also past its best, with rips in the material and the cushion collapsed …it’s just about perfect now, you won’t find a more comfortable seat anywhere.
“We’ve just come from Macintosh Manor. Did you know Mrs Macintosh is missing?”
“No. What do you mean by missing? I knew she wasn’t at home, Angus told us when we went to see him this morning, but missing?”
“Nobody seems to know her whereabouts. Mr Macintosh went away on Friday and he hasn’t seen her since.”
“Could she be visiting friends or something like that?”
“Unlikely, She hasn’t left any details of where she might be and she’s taken one or two things you wouldn’t take if you were just out for the day.”
“Why are you telling me this, Josie, is this an interview?” asked Claudilia looking from the detective to the PC by her side.
“No. But you told me at the funeral you’d been to see her on Saturday afternoon. I wonder how she seemed to you?”
“I did go to see her on Saturday. But I didn’t stop and no way was I going to talk to her at that point. She was busy; with the gardener.”
“Busy in what way? Talking about the garden, arguing about a bill, something like that?
“No,” said Claudilia, looking her straight in the eye, as much to avoid looking at PC Tipton who appeared to know what was coming. “She was shagging him senseless in the sauna. Actually, let me rephrase that, they were shagging each other senseless in the sauna. I didn’t feel they’d appreciate the interruption.”
“And you saw that did you?” asked the PC, the tops of his ears turning pink.
“Well yes, obviously I didn’t stand around and spectate. I didn’t think they’d welcome an audience, but I saw for long enough to know they were both very engaged in their performance.”
“Was that the last time you saw her?” asked the detective.
“No. She was at church on Sunday morning, I had a brief chat with her then. I said I would go back to the house in the afternoon”
“How did she appear on Sunday?”
“Fine, better than fine actually, full of the joys of spring and all dressed up to the nines, I wondered how she could walk in the heels she was wearing? …to be fair I was impressed she could walk at all.
“Did you go to the house on Sunday afternoon.”
“Yes, but she wasn’t there, her car was, and the back door was unlocked, I went in and called her name.” just in case they find any of my fingerprints thought Claudilia. “But I got no reply, I even looked in the sauna, in case they were, you know, having another go. But she wasn’t there either.”
“So the last time you saw her there was nothing at all unusual. She didn’t say or do anything out of the ordinary?” recapped DS Robinson.
…I assume she doesn’t mean going feet first into a wood chipper, because that would definitely be out of the ordinary for most people. “No, she was just Maggie, a bit annoying and a bit over-exuberant but apart from that fine.”
“All right, if we need to take a statement we know where to come, but I think it’s unlikely,” said DS Josie. The two officers pulled themselves out of the chair, and brushing straw off their clothes they walked back to where they’d parked the car.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Tuesday evening was reserved for the W.I., and at Bindweed Cottage nothing got in the way of that. However, when Angus knocked on the front door it took just one look for Claudilia to know she’d not be at the meeting that week. He looked terrible, his hair was a mess, his ruddy complexion was all washed out and his shoulders were drooped. In short, he was a shadow of the self-assured, ultra-confident deal maker who’d roared off to Scotland a few days before.
Claudilia ushered him into the kitchen. Hamish trotted in behind his master and went straight to the lounge. He jumped up onto the settee and settled down with Max.
“Any sign of Maggie?” asked Claudilia.
“No. The police were at the house today. They asked loads of questions and took a photo of her to circulate. They said they’d be coming to see you next.”
“Yes. I was at the stables when they turned up. They asked when I’d last seen Maggie, I told them I’d been to the house on Saturday afternoon. I’d seen her but not to talk to. I saw your wife again briefly in church on Sunday morning, we arranged that I’d visit later in the day. But when I went back to the Manor that afternoon she was nowhere to be found.”
Without asking, Claudilia had poured them both a beer. A Belchers brew of course, and she settled into the chair opposite her visitor. They both noticed how comfortable it felt, chatting over a beer in the kitchen of her old cottage. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to give me an honest answer. Not the answer you think I’ll want, but an honest one.”
“Of course I’ll answer honestly, I always do.” …Shit, he’s going to ask if I killed his wife, but how could he know? If he did know surely I’d be in a police van on my way to the station by now.
“Was Maggie at the house when you went there on Saturday?”
…Okay no harm in that, “Yes.”
“Did you see her”
…Still safe, “Yes.”
Angus paused for a moment, the next question was all important. “Did you talk to her?”
…It would have been a bit inconvenient you know, having the gardener screwing her brains out while I tried to hold a conversation about the fete. “No.”
“Why not?”
“She was busy.” …no lies yet.
“Oh for God’s sake Claudilia, what was my wife doing when you went to see her that was so important that you couldn’t talk to her?”
“The gardener.”
“I know he was there, but what was she doing?”
“She was doing the gardener, or the gardener was doing her. They were doing each other. In the sauna, quite vigorously.”
“Thank you, that’s what I suspected but I just needed to hear it.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Of course I bloody mind,” said Angus, with some snap in his voice. “I was paying the bastard overtime and he was screwing my wife, that’s something I haven’t done for Christ knows how long, because according to her she’d “gone off sex.
“Oh.” said Claudilia. All thoughts of the Women’s Institute had gone. Angus needed to talk and he’d chosen her to talk to.
Normally Claudilia had little time for tea and sympathy, but in this instance she felt some degree of responsibility for his plight …it must be something to do with grinding his wife into little bits and mixing her with left over vegetables. Claudilia got up and fetched two more bottles from the fridge. “Have another beer,” she said.
“It turns out she hadn’t gone off sex, just sex with me,” said Angus before taking a long drink straight from his new bottle. “As far as I can make out she’s very much still into it, just with other people. Now she’s gone, and as far as I’m concerned she can stay go
ne. From what I’ve learned today, if she ever comes home I’d throw her straight back out again. I’d send her bouncing down the drive on her scrawny little ass.”
Not much chance of that, thought Claudilia.
The pair sat quietly for a moment, then the first roll of thunder broke the silence. Faint and still far away it rumbled across the fields like the sound of ancient cannons. “Up you get Angus. Bring your beer if you like,” said Claudilia, she grabbed her glass and headed for the door. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“If it’s all right with you Claudilia, I’m not sure I can take another surprise today,” said Angus, but he did as he was told, beer in hand he followed her out through the kitchen door.
As often happens at the end of May it had been warm and muggy all day. The evening weather felt heavy and the first spots of rain were beginning to fall as they reached the stable.
Now Claudilia was all business. “Pop your beer on the table in the tack room and grab a couple of leading reigns will you Angus dear.” Oh shit, that just sort of slipped out Claudilia thought as she picked up a bucket, she dropped in a handful of horse nuts, and shaking it to get their attention she walked over to the field gate.
Angus joined her holding two ropes with clips on the end. “Who’s that?” he said pointing at the horse which wasn’t Pumpkin.
“That my dear Angus is Rosie, and she’s your surprise. I’ve borrowed her from a friend for you. She’s quiet, steady, and as comfortable as an armchair. She’s nine years old, she’s had three foals, and she could carry your weight all day with no problem at all. She’ll hardly know you’re there.”
The Village Fate Page 25
