by Roberta Kray
The front door opened again and a sturdier set of footsteps made their way across the hall. DS Barry poked his head into the library.
‘All set, guv?’
The sergeant didn’t approve of the gathering here at the house; such manoeuvrings were outside his comfort zone. He liked everything to be done strictly by the rules, to be black and white with no shades of grey and had accordingly voiced his objections. Latham had duly noted them without changing any of his plans. Sometimes you had to take chances. Sometimes you had to shake things up a bit.
‘All set.’
‘Not long now.’ Barry glanced at his watch and withdrew.
Latham closed his eyes and let his thoughts settle like dust. The motive for Esther’s murder lay not in the recent past but in something more distant. He already had most of the answers but by the end of the day he hoped to have them all.
61
Saturday 24 September. West Henby
Lolly and Nick were the last to arrive in West Henby. Nick had been late picking her up, apologising, saying there was something he’d had to do. He hadn’t elaborated. Something work related, she’d presumed. She felt her stomach tighten as they approached the house, knowing she was in for a grilling. Could they prove she’d helped Mal to escape – evidence, fingerprints, something left by mistake in the summerhouse? – because if they could she might not be going home tonight. DI Latham had not demanded her presence here today but merely requested it as an aid to their enquiries. Saying no hadn’t really been an option. Saying no would have made it look like she had something to hide.
Nick had been distracted throughout the journey and she had given up trying to make conversation once they had passed through the Blackwall Tunnel. Instead she had sat quietly and listened to the radio, letting the music flow over and around her. Now as he parked between Heather’s red Mini and a cream-coloured Bentley, he seemed to suddenly focus again.
‘Well,’ he said, gazing at the Bentley, ‘either the police are getting paid way too much or we’ve got more company than we expected.’
‘I think that’s the Leightons’ car,’ Lolly said. ‘Claud and Anna. They were at the party.’
‘Any particular reason why they’d be here?’
‘Claud had an affair – well, another affair – with Esther after Mal went to jail. He left Anna for her. They’re back together now.’
‘Ah, love, hate and revenge – always good motives.’
They got out of the car and walked up the steps. There was a police officer on the door who sent them to the sun room. Here they found Jude and Heather. Mrs Gough was sitting in the corner like a lurking black spider. The Leightons were in the garden, strolling back and forth on the lawn.
Jude looked at them and nodded.
Heather said, ‘Hi.’
Mrs Gough didn’t bother to acknowledge their presence. Her gaze rose briefly but then descended to the floor again.
Lolly and Nick sat down in the wicker chairs. There was an understandable tension in the room, a feeling of nerves pulled tight. The heady smell of lilies floated in the air. Lolly tried to clear her mind, to drive the fear from her thoughts. She didn’t succeed.
‘How much longer are we going to have to wait?’ Jude asked of no one in particular.
And because nobody knew, nobody answered.
Claud had been grumbling before he arrived and was still grumbling now. ‘Why are we even here? It’s bloody ridiculous! If Latham wanted to talk to us he could have done it down the station.’
‘No one forced you to come,’ Anna said. ‘It wasn’t obligatory.’
‘You said it would look bad if we didn’t.’
‘Since when did you ever listen to anything I said?’
If truth be told, Anna was enjoying herself. She liked to see her husband discomfited, his nose put out of joint. And she was fascinated by the gathering of suspects. That she too was a suspect didn’t bother her in the slightest; it only added to the thrill. She rather liked the idea of being thought of as a femme fatale, a dangerous woman who was prepared to kill to get what she wanted.
‘Go home if you want to,’ she said. ‘Go, stay, it’s up to you, but just stop whining about it.’
Claud threw her a filthy look. ‘You’re enjoying every minute of this.’
‘If you didn’t murder Esther you’ve got nothing to worry about.’
‘Balls,’ he said. ‘Mud sticks and you know it. Anyway, I’ve got better things to do than hang around here all day.’
Anna shielded her eyes against the sun and smiled. ‘I hope you’ve got your story straight or the only place you’ll be hanging around is prison.’
Jude was the first person to be called. He jumped up, hesitated and then strode out towards the library. While he was gone Nick made small talk with Heather. Lolly half listened but didn’t join in. She would have liked to go outside – it was stuffy in the sun room even with the doors open – but feared she’d be instantly leapt upon by Anna and subjected to a cross-examination.
She poured herself some squash from a jug left on the coffee table, asked if anyone else would like some, but nobody did. The squash was warm but it was better than nothing. She sat and sipped from the glass, wondering if one of them would be arrested for murder today. Jude? Heather? Even Mrs Gough wasn’t above suspicion. Her eyes fell on the Leightons again. They were still walking but there was distance between them now. Claud had a face like thunder. Anna looked pleased with herself.
‘No sign of Hazel Finch yet?’ Nick asked Heather.
Lolly quickly transferred her gaze.
Heather inclined her head, gave a faint smile and said, ‘What, since yesterday?’
Nick smiled back. ‘She called you then. I wondered if she would.’
‘Yes, she called me. Did you find out what you wanted?’
‘You could have saved me the bother of a trip to Clacton if you’d been straight from the start. You knew Vicky wasn’t Kay, didn’t you? Hazel had already proved that to you.’
‘You’re the detective,’ she said. ‘Didn’t they teach you to always double-check your sources, to never take anyone’s word for anything?’
‘So what was the point of saying she’d disappeared?’ Nick asked. ‘You knew the truth was going to come out eventually. Or where you just playing for time, keeping Mal and Esther’s hopes alive while you gathered as much information as you could for your book? Once they knew the Vicky angle was a dead end, they might have changed their minds about collaborating with you.’
Heather shrugged. ‘What does it matter now?’
Nick, being provocative, said, ‘Esther wouldn’t have been too happy if she’d found out. Did she find out?’
But Heather was unfazed. ‘Esther never believed it in the first place. She was only letting the book go ahead to spite Mal. It was just another chance to put the knife in.’
Mrs Gough glowered at her from across the room but kept silent.
Lolly was less taciturn. ‘You made Mal believe Kay was still alive. If it hadn’t been for you, for your lies, he’d never have absconded.’
‘I didn’t lie about anything. All I said was that there was a chance – and there still was when I told him that. It’s not my fault if he took it as rock-solid evidence.’
Lolly knew Heather was twisting the truth, trying to put herself in a better light. In anger she almost blurted out what Mal had told her – about Esther being seen with Vicky, about his fear that his daughter would be snatched from him again – but managed to stop herself. Now wasn’t the time to be making stupid slip-ups. Instead, trying to keep her voice steady, she said, ‘I don’t suppose you discouraged him from believing it though.’
Heather shook her head. ‘That’s not true.’
Lolly’s lip curled but she kept her mouth shut. Better to say nothing more than to risk saying too much. One thing, however, was clear: for all her culpability when it came to Mal’s situation, Heather really didn’t have a motive for killing Esther. In fact, t
he opposite was true. Without Esther’s input, the book might never get published.
The room fell silent and the exchange left in its wake a bad taste, a sense of something sour. She suspected that this was what the police wanted, for them to turn on each other, for the accusations to start flying, for loyalties to be tested. With Heather an unlikely suspect, her attention moved on to the others. Both Claud and Anna Leighton were capable, she thought, but Jude had to be up there at the top of the list. Her attempt at uncovering his possible guilt had been thwarted by the Cecil brothers. Could he have done it? Would he have done it? She had no choice now but to leave the questions to the law.
*
By the time Lolly was called everyone else had been interviewed. The term ‘making her sweat’ came to mind. She went into the library with her nerves jittering. Latham and Barry were seated on one side of the desk and she was directed to the chair opposite. From here she had a view of the garden and a glimpse of the lake, the latter a visual reminder – perhaps a deliberate one – of where Esther had died.
‘Sorry to have kept you waiting,’ Latham said.
Lolly sat down.
The next ten minutes followed more or less the same pattern as her original interview, going over the events of Wednesday night: where she had been, who she had seen, who she had talked to. She kept her answers short and concise, repeating what she’d told them before. Even though everything she said was truthful she felt herself starting to sweat. She knew they were trying to catch her out in a lie, to find some small discrepancy in her responses.
‘Let’s move on to Jude Rule,’ Barry said. ‘You’ve known him a while, I understand.’
‘We used to live in the same tower block.’
‘In Kellston?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And you were close, the two of you?’
Lolly sensed some trickery in the question. ‘We were mates, that’s all.’
Barry gave a thin smile. ‘Close enough for you to give him an alibi over Amy Wiltshire’s murder.’
Although Lolly knew she shouldn’t be surprised by the fact they knew about this, it still caught her off guard. ‘Being close or not has nothing to do with it. I just told the truth. I was at his flat when it happened; we were watching a film together.’
Barry gave her a sceptical look. ‘And would you have still given him an alibi if you hadn’t been there?’
She glared at him. ‘What sort of a question is that?’
‘One you don’t need to answer,’ Latham said. ‘I apologise. No one’s suggesting that you gave a false alibi.’
Lolly guessed they were doing that good cop/bad cop thing again, with Barry asking the shitty questions and Latham pretending to be the nice one who was protecting her. ‘Well, I didn’t,’ she stressed. ‘I’ve never done anything like that.’
Latham smiled and nodded. ‘Of course not.’
Barry sat back and folded his arms across his chest. ‘But you were the one who introduced him to Esther?’
He posed the question as though it was an accusation.
‘We lost touch for a while. I moved here and . . . ’ She shrugged, thinking of the letters she’d written to Jude, the letters that had gone unanswered. ‘Then, after about five years, we got back in touch again. He came to visit.’
‘And started a relationship with Esther. Were you happy about that?’
Lolly was doing her best to maintain her cool, not easy when old hurts were being hurled in her face. ‘I don’t know anything about their relationship.’
‘But you said you were mates. Don’t mates talk to each other?’
‘It was around then that all the stuff between Mal and Esther blew up. Mal was arrested, everything came out about Teddy Heath and . . . ’
‘You took Mr Fury’s side.’
‘Yes.’
‘And Jude took Esther’s.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘That must have been galling.’
‘Not really. I had more important things to worry about.’ Did they believe her? She doubted it. Even to her own ears it sounded implausible.
Thankfully, the subject of Jude was dropped and they moved on to – for Lolly at least – the safer ground of Nick, Heather Grant and the Leightons. The book was discussed for a while. She was vague about it and vague about Claud and Anna too. ‘I barely know them. We’ve only met a couple of times.’
They seemed to come to a natural halt in the interview and for a moment Lolly thought it was over. Papers were shuffled, glances exchanged. Neither appeared to have any more questions. She was trying not to look too relieved when Latham burst her bubble.
‘I think we’ll break for lunch now. After that, would you mind accompanying us to the lake? We’d like to go over the route you took that night.’
Lolly did mind but she could hardly say so.
62
Saturday 24 September. West Henby
Lunch was served by Mrs Gough – lemon sole, potatoes and peas – before she sat down to join them. There were nine in all gathered round the dining table. Lolly felt the weight of something ominous. The room was overly warm, the atmosphere tense and uncomfortable. Only Anna Leighton seemed at ease, always in her element when she spotted vulnerability. Spoilt for choice, the woman looked around with the hungry eyes of a fox in a henhouse.
‘Poor Esther,’ Anna said. ‘Who’d have thought it would come to this?’ She gazed at Jude, her face all mock sympathy. ‘How are you bearing up, sweetheart?’
Jude glared back at her. ‘How do you think?’
‘Yes, it’s all been a dreadful shock. I still can’t believe what’s happened. Such a terrible thing. And now we’re all under suspicion . . . although I suppose some more than others.’
‘We all know who did it,’ Jude said. ‘The one person who isn’t here.’
‘Not if he was in Argentina,’ Lolly said drily.
‘Argentina?’ Latham enquired.
The inspector clearly hadn’t been apprised of this fanciful titbit. ‘Buenos Aires,’ Lolly explained. ‘Mal was seen there, apparently.’
Latham looked unconvinced.
‘It was just a rumour,’ Anna said. ‘Probably nonsense.’
‘Of course it’s bloody nonsense,’ Jude said. ‘If there’s one person who wanted her dead, it’s him.’
Anna begged to differ. ‘Oh, I suspect there’s more than one. I mean, when you think about it, we all bore our grudges. Take Claud for example.’ She glanced at her husband, a sly smile playing round her lips. ‘Rejection doesn’t sit well with some people.’
‘Just shut up, can’t you?’ Claud snapped. ‘No one wants to hear your half-arsed opinions.’
But Anna was enjoying herself too much. She looked at Jude again. ‘She’d have done the same to you eventually, my dear. Got bored and cast you aside. Esther had a very low boredom threshold. She picked people up and threw them away; that’s just the way she was.’
‘And what about you?’ Jude said. ‘When it comes to motive, you’re hardly out of the picture.’
‘You’re right,’ Anna said, almost triumphantly. ‘I can’t argue with you there. Esther stole my husband, albeit temporarily. I suppose I could have killed her for that, but all things considered, I’d be more likely to kill Claud.’
‘I’m sure you’ll get around to it,’ Claud said.
Anna ignored him. ‘And what about you, Mrs Gough? I heard that Esther was going to the States and leaving you behind. Or was that just idle gossip? If it’s true, I don’t imagine you were too pleased about it.’
Mrs Gough paused in her eating, her fork halfway to her mouth. She put the fork down and stared at Anna. ‘Mrs Fury is dead,’ she said stiffly. ‘Have some respect.’
Anna barked out a laugh. ‘Respect. Esther didn’t know the meaning of the word.’ Her gaze flew round the table again, resting briefly on Heather before moving on to Lolly. ‘And then there’s you, Lita.’
Lolly sighed, already tired of Anna’s game
. ‘What about me?’
‘No one would have blamed you, darling, not after the way she treated you. I mean, all those years of contempt, of ridicule. And then just to throw you out like that. Not to mention . . . ’ She glanced pointedly at Jude. ‘Well, if I’d been in your shoes, God knows what I’d have done. Everyone has a breaking point.’
‘I never wanted her dead,’ Lolly said calmly.
‘Really?’ Anna said. ‘Not even in the darkest depths of your imagination?’
‘Not even there,’ Lolly said, although it wasn’t true. Esther’s cruelty, her utter disregard for the feelings of others, had indeed provoked the occasional murderous thought. There was a difference though between thinking it and doing it.
Heather took a sip of iced water – the only refreshment available – and put down her glass. ‘I suppose I’m next on your list.’
Anna considered her, obviously trying to come up with a motive but struggling to do so. Eventually she flapped her hand. ‘Maybe you fell out over that book you’re writing, had an almighty row and . . . ’
‘Ah, yes. We authors are known for our vicious tempers.’
Anna smiled and ate some fish.
Latham wasn’t saying much, Barry nothing. Lolly was sure, however, that they were listening to every word. She would have liked to have been sitting beside Nick but had found herself on the other side of the table. There had been no chance to talk to him as her interview had followed directly on from his. She tried to catch his eye, just to make some contact, but he was chasing peas around his plate.
There was silence for a minute, broken only by the scrape of knives and forks.
‘And what about Nick?’ Heather asked. ‘You’re not going to leave him out, are you?’
Nick looked up. ‘Fire away.’
‘I’m afraid you’re a minor character,’ Anna said, ‘in this little drama, I mean. A walk on-part rather than a starring role. I think you can be disregarded as a suspect.’
