Brandon was an idiot. She shouldn’t let him get to her. He’d wanted to sleep with her and now she was a slut.
She didn’t want tea now. Instead she lay down and put the pillow over her head. Pearl had been right about ‘not on your own doorstep’. She’d made a mess of her new start. On Monday, she’d look for somewhere else to live. The PhD students might still have space under their floorboards.
It was only six o’clock, but she was exhausted and fell into bed without undressing or even washing her face.
She was woken by someone shouting her name.
‘Julia!’
Outside it was still just about light.
‘Julia!’
Someone was calling her from downstairs. Genevieve? She had no idea of the time. Perhaps early evening. Whatever the hour, she needed more sleep. She decided to ignore whoever it was, turned over and put the pillow over her head.
‘Julia!’
It was Genevieve. Her voice was sharp, insistent, a contrast to her usual languid tones. Julia peeled the pillow from her head and sat up. Genevieve wasn’t going to go away. She went to the door and pulled it open an inch.
‘Is everything all right, Genevieve?’ she called.
A pause.
‘Would you come downstairs?’
Julia wasn’t in the mood for any more of Genevieve’s engineered dramas. She walked to the bannisters and leant over.
‘I’m very tired, Genevieve. Can it wait?’
‘No, Julia,’ Genevieve said. ‘You have to come now. The police have asked to speak to you.’
Chapter 44
2018 – Guildford Crown Court
The court erupts into chatter at Crane’s utterance of the word ‘murder’. Ralph looks surprised, despite knowing this was coming. I can’t help but glance at Brandon’s siblings. Their lips are pursed, their hands still intertwined. Their brother was a thief and now a murderer.
Ralph waits for the chatter to cease, before continuing. ‘Let me get this right: Ruth Fletcher actually called the police station and accused Brandon Wells of killing her sister, Mrs Pike?’
‘She did,’ Crane says. ‘Repeatedly.’
‘And what reason did Mrs Fletcher give for this belief?’
‘She had Mrs Pike’s savings account book. It showed that Mrs Pike had made three separate withdrawals of fifteen thousand pounds in cash over the three weeks prior to her death.’ Crane’s eyes wander towards the gallery and Brandon’s siblings. ‘On the day Mrs Pike took her own life, Mrs Fletcher had been in London, consulting a lawyer. She was trying to put measures in place to protect her sister.’
‘Was the money ever recovered?’ Ralph asks.
‘No, and it was assumed Brandon Wells had stolen it.’
‘Did you agree with Mrs Fletcher?’
All chatter, shuffling and coughing has died away. Luke Crane has the court’s full attention.
‘About the theft, I did agree with her, yes. The evidence was pretty damning. He’d taken off with all his belongings. Inquiries were made, and we accessed Mr Wells’ bank account. It had thirty-seven pounds fifty-six pence in it.’
‘Would you tell the court the date of the last transaction?’ Ralph asks.
‘If I may refer to my notes.’ Crane pulls out a pair of glasses and spends a moment reading from the sheets of paper next to him. ‘The last transaction was on Saturday 20th August. Twenty pounds were removed from a cashpoint in Ealing. We decided that Brandon didn’t need any money, not with forty-five thousand pounds in cash. I believe that’s what my senior colleague, who’s no longer with us, told Mr Patrick Wells when he contacted us and reported Brandon missing.’
A stifled yelp emanates from one of Brandon’s siblings. Judge Fleetwood’s eye is quick to turn upon them. They are hugging one another, both their faces hidden in the other’s shoulders. He considers them a moment. The yelp was almost certainly an involuntary reaction to their distress. Fleetwood makes no comment and nods at Ralph to continue.
‘At the time there was no suspicion or evidence that harm had come to Brandon?’ he asks.
‘A man who has stolen forty-five thousand pounds is unlikely to hang around. The only suspicion was that of theft.’
Ralph pauses and looks down at his notes.
‘Let me get this right: Brandon was seen alive after the date of Mrs Pike’s death, by his friend Grant McCluskey? If the housemates including my client had the money, they had no need to kill for it – and if Brandon had it, why would he return?’
‘As I said, I was not involved in any second investigation beyond Mrs Pike’s death and the missing money,’ Crane says.
‘We’ve established that the three defendants were the only people sharing the house at the time. But others had access to the property, didn’t they?’ Ralph says.
‘That’s not something I have recorded,’ Crane says.
‘Mrs Ruth Fletcher had keys to the property. And given her belief that Brandon Wells killed her sister, she had a strong motive to harm Brandon, wouldn’t you say?’
‘I’m not here to speculate as to Brandon Wells’ murderer. I’m in court to tell you what I saw at the time.’
‘Quite so. Thank you, Mr Crane,’ Ralph says.
Chapter 45
1994 – Guildford
Julia ran down the stairs, barefoot. Genevieve was in the hall, leaning on the bureau to steady herself.
‘What do the police want?’ Julia asked. ‘Has something happened to Mum?’
‘What’s your mother to do with it? They’re in the dining room and are insisting on speaking to everyone about Gideon.’
Julia relaxed a fraction.
‘Gideon – why?’
‘I don’t know. He left a couple of hours ago. Go, Julia. Go and speak to them. I want them out of my house.’
Genevieve was shaking. Julia put her hand out to comfort her. Genevieve drew back.
‘Please, Julia, just do what they ask, so they’ll go and leave us alone.’
Catching sight of her face in the hall mirror, Julia saw that her mascara had smudged, and her hair was tangled. Not a good look for a Sunday evening. She rubbed under her eyes to try to remove the smudges and scraped her hair into a bun before knocking on the door.
‘Come in,’ a gruff voice said.
The dining room was out of bounds to Genevieve’s lodgers. She’d never been inside before. It was as she had glimpsed it, containing a large mahogany table and sideboard, with a carriage clock and delicate china vases on it.
Two policemen occupied the room, neither in uniform. The older one, with iron-grey hair and wearing a charcoal-coloured suit and brown tie, sat at the table. The younger one, in dark trousers, light blue shirt and no jacket, was standing looking over the drive and across to the Downs beyond. He spun round as she came in, as if her entrance were unexpected, when he must have heard her outside.
Julia stood at the door, unsure what to do.
‘Sit down please, Miss …’
‘Winter,’ she said. ‘Julia Winter.’
‘I’m Detective Sergeant Bellingham and this is Detective Constable Lewes,’ the older policeman said.
‘Why … er … what?’
‘I understand you had a pleasant party on Friday night and last night, by the looks of it.’ He gave an insincere smile. ‘A barbecue was it? It’s the right time of year.’ He rubbed the ring finger of his left hand with his thumb. ‘Can you confirm what time you started and finished?’
Julia’s mind was fogged by sleep and she failed to see the importance of the question.
‘People started arriving around seven. I’ve no idea what time we finished.’
Bellingham took notes with his right hand and continued to rub the finger on his left.
‘Were you all in the house and garden the whole time?’
‘Apart from our walk – we went out onto the Downs.’
‘Together – all of you?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you returned to the h
ouse together?’
‘Yes.’
‘But Mr Risborough left after that, didn’t he?’
With this question, Lewes’ attention shifted from the window to her.
‘I wasn’t aware that he did,’ she said. ‘But it’s not like I keep an eye on him.’
‘Really, you’re not an item?’ Bellingham asked.
‘Absolutely not – who said that?’
‘Just the impression I got. My apologies, your relationship with Mr Risborough isn’t the focus of our inquires.’
Julia was tired, irritable at being woken up and wanted to go back to bed.
‘What is your focus?’ she said.
‘Mr Risborough’s movements.’
‘I told you, he was with us the whole time.’
‘Are you sure? You were drinking and taking other substances perhaps – it’s easy to lose track.’
That was it. Gideon was a drug dealer, the supplements business a front, the grass only a sample of a huge stash. They would all be implicated. A sick panic clenched Julia’s stomach and forced her awake and alert.
‘I wasn’t aware of Gideon leaving.’
‘So, you’re not one hundred per cent certain?’
‘I’ve told you. What’s this about?’
‘We’ll get around to that.’ Bellingham leant back in his chair. ‘I’d like to go over what happened later, when everyone returned to the house?’
‘We all went to bed,’ Julia said. ‘Alone, before you ask.’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Bellingham said. ‘But Mr Risborough’s room is directly under yours. You didn’t hear him get up?’
Until Bellingham said this, Julia hadn’t remembered Gideon’s phone call in the garden. She wasn’t sure what time it had been and anyway, Bellingham was annoying her. She wasn’t going to help. Especially if she was going to incriminate herself.
‘I only woke up when Genevieve knocked on the door.’
‘Fair enough,’ Bellingham said. ‘One other detail – does the name Devon Garvey mean anything to you?’
She had heard the name before but she couldn’t place it.
‘No,’ she said.
‘Are you sure? This is rather a serious issue.’ Bellingham looked straight at Julia, appraising her reaction. ‘At around 4 a.m. on Saturday morning a fire broke out at Mr Garvey’s house in Ripley. The fire brigade suspect arson. Fortunately, they’d spent the night away to attend a family wedding. You see how serious this is?’
Not drugs, arson and an attempt at something worse?
‘Yes, but—’
‘Mr Garvey has been in a long-standing business dispute with Mr Risborough and his godfather. They claim he owes them nearly eight thousand pounds.’
Now she could place the name. Gideon had told them about Garvey that night they ate pizza together and drank Chartreuse.
‘I’ve never heard of him,’ she said.
‘Taking into account the seriousness of the situation, I’ll ask you one more time,’ Bellingham said. ‘Can you confirm Gideon was here throughout the evening?’
Technically Gideon hadn’t left the house. Going into the garden to make a phone call didn’t count. It’s not as if he’d screeched his car onto the drive and come in reeking of petrol. She thought back to the phone call. What was wrong with it? Not the time in the morning, nor that Gideon had been in his boxers and T-shirt. She dismissed it. It wasn’t important. And Bellingham irritated her, this pompous middle-aged man, with his ill-fitting suit and light sweat patches under the arm. Gideon probably made him jealous. He was young, good-looking, could have lots of girlfriends, if he’d wanted. Unlike Bellingham, whose ringless finger, recently ringless if his body language was anything to go by – continually rubbing it with his thumb – probably went home to beans on toast and a cat.
‘I’ve told you, as far as I know, Gideon was here all night. If this Garvey bloke hasn’t paid Gideon, he probably owes money to lots of other people.’
‘Other people didn’t go to Mr Garvey’s house and threaten him in front of his wife and children.’
Julia was going to speak again, then stopped. This didn’t sound like Gideon. She couldn’t imagine him angry or menacing. He had probably gone to the man’s house to reason with him, and Garvey had exaggerated the encounter to the police.
‘Why do you believe this man and not Gideon? He’d never do anything like that. You say it was a coincidence the family being away, but was it? He’s in debt. He could have sent his family away and torched the place for the insurance.’
‘You can leave the detective work to us, thank you, Miss,’ Lewes said. ‘All we want from you are the facts.’
‘Which I’ve already given you. Has anyone said Gideon wasn’t here all night?’
The two detectives looked at each other. Julia sensed their indecision.
‘If there’s nothing else, I’ll go,’ Julia said.
Bellingham gave a reluctant nod. Julia left and shut the door behind her.
Genevieve was sitting on the bottom stair, her hands clasped in a knot of anxiety. This time she allowed Julia to place a hand on her shoulder.
‘What’s the matter? You’re not worried about Gideon are you? I think they’re just making inquiries. He’s not really a suspect or anything.’
‘It’s not that.’ Genevieve’s voice was faint and breathless. ‘It’s just, when they turned up here and showed me their identification, I thought … I thought …’
Genevieve’s breaths came fast and shallow.
‘Thought what, Genevieve?’ Julia asked.
‘I thought they’d come about Dominic. Like the last time. Oh, I couldn’t bear it, not again.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘If they’d found his body – what then?’ She spread her hands. ‘He’s alive. I know it. Whatever they told me. If he’d been killed, they would have found the body.’
Julia wanted to tell her the truth. That many, many people go missing in the mountains every year and their bodies are never found. Perhaps some of them do fake their own deaths and turn up years later at an Indian ashram. But most of them fall down a crevasse and are covered in snow and rock, making it too dangerous to search. If Dominic was still alive, he would have made his way home by now.
She looked at Genevieve. She was so thin, so fragile. It wasn’t the time for tough love.
‘This is just about Gideon. And no one’s been hurt. Why don’t you go and get some sleep – try to forget about it?’
Genevieve nodded but didn’t move. Julia placed an arm around her and pulled her to her feet, then led her upstairs to her attic bedroom. She’d imagined Genevieve’s bedroom to be some nineteenth-century boudoir, with silk scarves draped as a canopy above the bed, ornate mirrors and candlesticks. But it was plain, white being the predominant colour. A double bed was pushed under the slope of the eaves and most of what could have been standing room was taking up with a large oak wardrobe.
Julia coaxed Genevieve towards the bed, placed her down and removed her shoes. Genevieve lay down, obediently. Julia felt like a mother putting a young child to bed. She was about to pull the covers up when Genevieve said, ‘Wait.’
She pushed herself onto her elbows and turned to the narrow side table, on which a lamp, a glass of water and a small bottle of pills stood. The bottle was already open. Genevieve took two small white pills and swallowed them with some water.
‘Don’t tell Ruth,’ Genevieve said.
The bottle had no label and Julia wondered if it had been bought illegally.
‘Try to get some sleep,’ she said.
Genevieve closed her eyes and slid down under the duvet. ‘Turn the lamp on, will you, Julia? I hate the dark.’
Julia switched it on. She watched Genevieve sink into the pillow and close her eyes before she crept down the attic-room stairs.
Where the hell was Gideon and how had he managed to drag all of them into this mess? She had enough to worry about with Brandon. The whole day
had been a disaster.
She’d go to sleep and forget about it. She returned to bed, but she couldn’t sleep. She lay looking out at the dark shadow of the Downs. Genevieve wasn’t her responsibility. She was an adult, Audrey’s age. She couldn’t imagine her mother quivering under a duvet, reliant on sleeping pills. Genevieve should just pull herself together.
An hour later, she was still awake. Cursing herself for caring, she got up and went downstairs to the phone, clutching Ruth’s number on a scrap of paper. She had started dialling when the dining-room door opened. Brandon came out.
‘Who are you calling at this time of night?’
She put the phone down before it rang. ‘None of your business.’
‘Tell me.’
Julia turned to walk up the stairs. She wasn’t making the call with Brandon standing over her. He blocked her path and snatched the paper from her hand.
‘Hey,’ Julia said. ‘You’ve no right.’
‘Why are you calling Ruth?’
‘Are you the policeman now?’
He held the paper up, fingering it, as if the digits held some clue as to how he should act.
‘I guess you’re worried about Genevieve,’ he said.
‘She was really upset tonight. All of that stuff with the police reminded her of when they came to tell her Dominic had died. I had to put her to bed.’
‘I’ll go and check on her,’ he said. ‘No need to call Ruth.’
‘I think she really needs someone from her family.’
‘Ruth will take her pills away and make things worse.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Do you know how many times I’ve had to put her to bed?’
Julia didn’t want to think about it. ‘She shouldn’t be taking those things. They don’t even have a label.’
‘It’s more dangerous to stop suddenly – trust me, I’ve seen it.’
Julia looked at the phone. She had a good memory for numbers and didn’t need the piece of paper to phone Ruth. Would Brandon physically stop her if she tried?
‘I know you’re trying to help Genevieve,’ he said. ‘But I know how to deal with her.’
Brandon wasn’t going to move. Julia’s courage failed her. She returned to her room. Brandon followed her up the stairs then continued up the next flight to Genevieve’s room.
The Verdict Page 21