‘Tell how it was, Door,’ Inez murmured.
‘You see, she had Nella’s keys, she’d taken them while Nella was unconscious, to get in the house and telephone. And while Nella was in hospital — only a few days — she was in and out of Ferns, looking after things. Then, when Nella came home, she organised us all on a rota for meals and shopping and company. Nella never went out of her way to be grateful, ever — the Lynchets took everything as their due, that was the way she was brought up — but it was obvious it meant a lot to her. Things we all take for granted had never happened in that house — people coming and going, concerning themselves with her, laughter and jokes and gossip. And then … her cleaning lady, Mrs Waite, told her she’d several times seen Mrs Turner looking through papers in the study. The thing was, Mrs Waite had never been allowed in there — Alfred couldn’t bear the thought of anyone touching his “work”; afterwards Grandmother kept it out of bounds, so did Nella in her turn. I don’t know how long it would have taken Nella to realise what was going on — that all the while Jaynie had been helping herself to whatever interested her — prying, ferreting around.’
Annette said, low-voiced, ‘That really was betrayal.’
‘Exactly. Nella couldn’t even bring herself to accuse Jaynie, she just insisted she leave, made up something about other arrangements. I went to see her, I suppose just at the crucial moment, and she told me — not much, she’s very reticent, but she couldn’t hide how upset she was. She asked me not to speak about it, and I didn’t. I never told anyone — except you,’ she said to Inez, ‘because it was just after that you came back home.’
Collier said, ‘I would have thought she’d have jumped at the chance to get her own back — let everyone know what a dirty turn she’d been served.’
Three faces turned to him in complete silence. He had never met such consolidated female disparagement.
‘It takes a man, doesn’t it?’ Inez said witheringly. ‘Listen, for the first time in her life this pathetic woman had a friend, taking an interest in her life, bringing a bit of fun to it and then, then … ’ Words failed her.
Collier backed into the settle, made himself small, whispered, ‘Sorry.’
‘Inez is right,’ Annette said. ‘A man would have gone roaring all over the place making sure everyone knew he’d been made a fool of.’ ‘And as she’d been treated like one all her life by her ghastly grandmother, it’s not the sort of thing she’d want to advertise,’ Inez said. ‘Besides,’ Dora said pacifically, ‘it was just not the sort of thing that should be talked about. I suspect Mrs Waite got a bit of mileage out of it, but Nella would have put a stop to that. She’d have made it quite plain she wouldn’t become the object of talk.’
A fleeting glance between Annette and Collier carried the message: the Lynchets seemed to have a talent for keeping the lid on their affairs.
‘Of course,’ Dora went on, ‘no one could help noting they’d stopped being friends, but people were pretty tactful … And then Jaynie got into her stride with her researches and got on everyone’s nerves.’
‘This local history thing?’ Annette asked.
‘Yes. She had a massive folder she’d open and everyone would be fighting to get out of the room. You just didn’t know what she’d produce out of it. She said such hurtful things to people, and it began to get embarrassing —
‘Digging up people’s pasts?’ Collier suggested.
‘Oh, mostly silly things, nothing anyone bothered about much, a little hurt pride here and there. No, she became more and more spiteful to Nella.’
‘Because Nella had given her the bum’s rush?’ Annette said.
Inez said, ‘Yes. If you can’t join ’em, rubbish ’em. Mind you, she genuinely did think the Toddies were marvellous — if you can believe that — ’
Annette thought of the overdressed dolls, the garden with its mooning gnomes. Yes, she could believe it.
‘ — she felt she had a claim on Alfred’s, what? Kudos.’
‘She knew him, of course.’ Collier prompted unobtrusively.
‘Well, years and years back. Jaynie’s parents moved away to Chatfield when she was only a schoolgirl.’
‘Childhood sweethearts?’ Annette hazarded.
This drew a concerted reaction: ‘Alfred! Ugh … ’
Annette said, ‘Ah, he wasn’t a ladies’ man.’
Inez said, ‘That’s just the trouble — he thought he was. Insinuating gallantry. Always trying to get too close — ’
‘Any excuse — stairs, chairs — arm round the waist — ’ Dora said.
‘Hand beneath elbow. Damp hand — ’ Inez, interrupted by Annette’s yell of horrified laughter, said, ‘You know the type.’
‘Oh God, don’t I.’
Collier said, ‘Did he have any girlfriends?’
‘Is this male solidarity?’ Dora asked kindly.
‘How unlikely can you get,’ Annette murmured, heard only by Collier, who trod on her foot.
‘If he had, no one knew about them,’ Inez said. ‘He used to partner Nella occasionally, very condescendingly. She thought it was wonderful, poor thing.’
Dora said, ‘He’d never have got anyone past Grandmother, anyway. As far as she was concerned, no one was good enough for him. He agreed, of course.’
‘You amaze me,’ Annette said. ‘I’ve had completely the wrong impression. I would have — ’ She stopped, waved to Hunter as he came in.
He went to the bar, gave an order and came over, carrying a crackly bag which he put on the floor beneath the settle, and said, ‘Hallo, there,’ as it was whisked away. Ahhh … Annette whispered.
Dora said, ‘You’ll find him dead under there one of these days. OD’d.’
‘Probably his idea of doggy heaven,’ Hunter said.
The landlord appeared with a tray: wine for ladies — ‘Beer for chaps,’ Hunter said to Collier. ‘Local brew. What do you think?’
‘A worthy Frog and Nightgown.’
Inez and Dora looked too intrigued; to deflect them Annette said to Hunter, ‘I’m just learning how completely wrong I’ve been — about Alfred Lynchet.’
Hunter looked politely interested. A gleam in his eye said, Good on ya, gal.
‘Well, I had this picture of a feller — mature, yes, but older men can be so sexy — dashing, witty … ’
She paused, stared at by Inez and Dora. ‘The dear girl’s not well,’ Dora murmured.
Inez leaned forward, whispered, every word perfectly enunciated. ‘He was a nerd. Of the very first order.’
A pause. Collier put in, with deliberate inadequacy. ‘Not the toast of Clerehaven café society?’
‘Assignations, affairs? Delicious hints of scandal?’ Annette asked hopefully.
‘Scandal. Alfred … ’ Jointly, incredulously. Then Dora, ‘Grandmother would kill rather than allow the Lynchet name to be brought into disrepute.’
‘If he didn’t have girlfriends,’ Hunter said prosaically, ‘did he have boyfriends?’
They considered, briefly. Dora said, ‘No … That would have registered, over the years, wouldn’t it?’
Inez muttered, ‘Personally, I think he’d have had anything, given the chance.’
‘What I don’t understand,’ Annette persisted, ‘is how a man could create — well, whatever you think of the Toddies, they’re enormously popular — ’
‘That’s a guarantee of excellence?’ Hunter murmured.
‘No, of course not. But he must have had empathy, wit — personality, for heavens’ sake. Wouldn’t you say? Well, how could a man, who you say was an utter bore, create them?’
‘That’s what we’d all like to know,’ Inez said.
‘What are you getting at?’ Collier asked innocently.
‘Look,’ Annette said to Dora and Inez, ‘you didn’t know he had talent. So there was something in his character that wasn’t — evident. He had something — ’
Inez said, ‘You’re taking a rather romantic view of this, I’m afraid,
Annette, and it’s awfully misplaced. He was … repressed, I suppose. Panting and creepy.’
Dora said, ‘Maybe he would have made a good husband and father but he never had the opportunity — and, believe me, Grandmother would never have let him escape her influence. And maybe he didn’t want to, he could cope with his world as he knew it.’
Annette leaned forward. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, like a lot of inadequate men he was extremely vain, always hinting he was pursued, sought after, had to be careful not to fall into some unscrupulous woman’s hands. But that, poor man, was his fantasy. He never had to prove himself.’
For Hunter, behind this pleasant, gossipy atmosphere, an echo — Queenie’s failing yet harsh voice: He had that much trouble managing it … he were always edgy; trying to get it up, I had a few nasty moments meself …
Inez said drily, ‘Wonderful psychological profile, Door. The truth was he was a nerd.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
Annette and Collier saw Hunter early the next morning and gave him a brief run-down of what they had learned before he arrived at the One-eyed Rat. When it came to Nella’s accident, they were all of the same mind; as Hunter put it, ‘So Jaynie had the run of Ferns — and if there’d been any skeletons in cupboards she could have had them falling out all over the place.’
‘She did — well, little scraps of information here and there — that isn’t to say there wasn’t a lot more in her “research” folder,’ Annette said.
‘And everything on the Lynchets has gone missing,’ Collier added.
Hunter said, ‘But we don’t know when. Before — after her murder? Did she take it with her when she went out that last time? Did someone get in the house and remove it? Who had entry to the house?’
‘The cleaning lady’s out,’ Annette said. Hunter brooded for a moment. ‘Whatever, we need to ask Ms Nella a few questions. I want you both to go and see her this morning.’ They looked surprised. ‘But, guv, we assumed you … You’ve seen her once.’
‘Yes, and I know what I think. I want your opinion.’
‘Do we ask her about Alfred?’
‘Discreetly. We’re not showing our hand about that, yet. Hint, see if it unsettles her. Say there could be new evidence about his death. If she wants to know what, say you’re not at liberty to divulge it yet — oh, something … ’
‘It’s still being evaluated,’ Annette recited. ‘Fitted into the larger picture,’ Collier continued, then looked at Hunter more keenly. ‘Is there? New evidence?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Hunter said blandly, and told them about Queenie. When he had finished he said, ‘Stop jumping up and down. Just because the old girl’s at death’s door, there’s no guarantee she’s telling the truth.’
‘Do you think she is?’ Annette said urgently.
‘Bits of it, for sure, but … she could be just making trouble.’
Collier frowned. ‘Why should she?’
‘You know better than to ask, James — she doesn’t have to have a reason,’ Hunter said flatly. ‘Listen. I’m going to describe Queenie to you as I knew her five years ago — it’s no good you going to see her, she’s unrecognisable from the woman I knew. I asked her what she was wearing when she went to Ferns — because she’s a cunning old basket and I knew she wouldn’t go there in her tart’s outfit. Mind you, her idea of a respectable appearance isn’t necessarily anyone else’s, but she knew enough not to be conspicuous or have the door shut in her face … ’
They listened carefully, following his words and, as closely as possible, his thought. Finally, Annette said, ‘Nella came home — while she was there.’
According to Queenie. That’s something I want you to find out. Does Nella admit seeing her, can she in any way account for her — then, or later? Tread softly, both of you. We might, here, be on the way to solving two murders.’
‘Guv, do you think … Benjamin — ’
‘Right, Benjamin. I want you to use him as your approach only. Ms Lynchet’s pretty highhanded, she’s going to slap you down because she’s already told me about him — you’ll be wasting her precious time etc. Apologise and back off, that’ll give her a false sense of confidence. Then change tack. Start with Alfred, then Queenie. Now, Annette, this is where I want an input from your feminine intuition. You know I respect it.’
He did, it was not the first time — neither patronising nor cynical — he had asked for her response; he knew it to be more subtle than any man’s, he understood there were areas of a woman’s emotional psyche no amount of analytical expertise could fathom. ‘We’re dealing with such diverse females here: Nella and Jaynie, the old matriarch, raddled old Queenie. If we do it right, we can fit them together to make a picture.’ Then sending them away, with their enthusiasm and expectations, ‘Off you go,’ he said, adding, ‘my lambs,’ under his breath. Because they were going to the slaughter and it was Nella who would have their hides.
They were intelligent and tough, but they lacked the depth of experience to read a woman like Nella, and they were too young to have developed the resolute patience that was the gift of years. She would instantly put them down as subordinates; brush aside their enquiries as a mere matter of form and — whether or not she had anything to hide — intimidate and command them. The last thing she would expect, after such a triumph, would be a return visit from him.
*
Detective Chief Superintendent Garrett had been on leave, enjoying a surfeit of golf that was guaranteed to put him in a decent frame of mind for weeks. Unless something catastrophic happened. Hunter, sincerely hoping he was not that something, received a genial response to his suggestion he ‘drop by as he was passing’. Taking the Tracy Lyons file with him, he dropped.
Garrett looked through it, listened to what Hunter had to say about Queenie, thought for a moment and said mildly, ‘When I was a lad I had a Staffordshire bull terrier. Once it got its teeth into something you had to knock it unconscious to let go. I wonder why it reminds me of you?’
‘It’s the Queen Anne legs.’
‘So far, Sheldon,’ Garrett continued in the same vein, ‘you’ve come up with a man who left the area years before the crime, a dead man and a near defunct old pro who’s probably spinning you a line.’
Concession was in the air. Hunter thought back to the rambling, disjointed conversation. Take away the digressions and he was sure he had got at whatever facts were there. ‘Some of it has to be true.’
Garrett raised an eyebrow.
‘She’s been in that house — Ferns. She could only describe it in general terms, so it could be any house of that type — but she hasn’t the kind of background to know that. I’ve never met the old grandmother, but from what I’ve been told, Queenie had her to the life.’
‘Ah, yes, the grandmother. She’s dead, too, isn’t she?’ Garrett remarked, in passing, as he studied the file. ‘You believe Alfred was one of Queenie’s regulars. He just happened to change his habits the night she was away.’
‘That might not have been the first time, he could have done it before.’
‘But she felt sure enough of herself to go to Clerehaven in an attempt to blackmail him. Run that past me again.’
‘She’d had her hopes dashed with her “marriage”. She’d got something out of the relatives but no hope of anything else. She tried. Made a nuisance of herself but they sorted her out. She was pushing middle age, losing whatever pulling power she’d once had. She wanted security, the convenience of a few amenable punters. She was ready to have a go at anything. This just fell into her lap, she saw a chance and grabbed it.’
‘Did a deal with the old girl? Doesn’t that strike you as a bit odd, Sheldon? A highly respectable ancient lady starts trading with a prostitute the instant she turns up on the doorstep.’
‘No. She’s not going to shut the door in her face and let her wander off God knows where with her accusations. And the old grandmother knew — she got it out of Alfred the night before. She’d always known he was up
to something on a regular basis; men being men as she was probably brought up to believe, it could only be one thing. And she could weigh up the sort of woman she was dealing with.’
‘So Grandmother procures a van and careers off in it, running down her own — ’ ‘There probably wasn’t a van — ’
‘There was bloody something, Sheldon. He didn’t flatten himself into the tarmac.’
‘No, of course not. Queenie’s instructions from old Mrs Lynchet were these. She was to come to Clerehaven again the following day, do whatever she wished, walk up to the railway station at a specified time. Catch the next train back to Chatfield. As soon as the accident was announced in the paper and an appeal for witnesses, the old lady would phone Queenie. Who would present herself at Clerehaven police station, a respectable, middle-aged widow, who saw on the day in question — ’ Garrett read from the file, ‘a big blue van with the registration containing H7Y tearing out of the side road where the accident happened. And Clerehaven go off on a wild goose chase — ’
After a vehicle that never existed. I don’t think it occurred to Queenie until later how canny the old grandmother had been. By implicating Queenie she put the frighteners on her about going to the police or attempting any more blackmail later. To cover herself, Queenie swears she didn’t know what the old girl had in mind — ’
‘Did she?’
‘If she knew, or guessed, it wouldn’t have made any difference. She pretended to be shocked when she realised, after the event, but she said something to me about “we’re all the same, really” I think she saw herself getting revenge on a superior class. I’ve been doing some digging; someone who knows the family well told me that Grandmother would kill rather than allow the Lynchet name to be sullied.’
‘That’s not corroboration.’
‘No. But it’s a viewpoint. And anyway,
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