And then Sajid Khan had made his slip-up. At the end of our meeting, he mentioned that Katie had approached him and that he’d recommended someone called Wilcox. He’d quickly realised his mistake and he’d tried to cover it up but I’d known something was wrong. Why would Katie have been consulting a solicitor? Once again, the Internet had helped me. I’d started by typing ‘Wilcox London Lawyers’. I suppose I was lucky that it was a relatively uncommon name. My first search only brought up a dozen possible candidates. It was easy enough to dismiss Jerome Wilcox (trading standards), Paul Wilcox (intellectual property) and so on. Then I had a brainwave and tried ‘Wilcox Ipswich Lawyers’. I found Adam Wilcox on the first page. He specialised in divorce.
‘Did Gordon tell you?’ Katie asked.
‘I haven’t spoken to Gordon in a long time,’ I said.
‘Nor have I.’ She tried to smile but that wouldn’t work any more. ‘I didn’t want to tell you because it’s so boring,’ she said. ‘After everything I’ve said to you over the years, I thought you’d sit there and think I was pompous and stupid and that it served me right.’
I reached out and took hold of her hand. ‘I’d never think that,’ I said. ‘Not in a hundred years.’
‘I’m sorry.’ And now the tears came. She picked up her napkin and wiped her eyes. ‘I didn’t mean that. That wasn’t fair.’
‘Just tell me what’s happened.’
She sighed. ‘Gordon is having an affair with his secretary. Her name is Naomi. She’s twenty years younger than him. Isn’t that just the worst thing you ever heard?’
‘It makes him sound ridiculous,’ I said.
‘He is ridiculous.’ She wasn’t crying any more. Katie had become upset because she thought she’d been unkind to me. Talking about Gordon just made her angry. ‘I’ve had all the usual crap about how he loves me and he loves the children and he doesn’t want to hurt the family but how he was secretly unhappy and she makes him feel young again and we all need a fresh start and blah blah blah blah. He’s pathetic – but half of me blames myself. I should never have agreed to this “week in London, weekends in Woodbridge” arrangement. I should have known it would end in tears.’
‘When did this all happen?’ I asked.
‘It started a couple of years ago, just after you went to Crete. Gordon said he was getting worn out with all the commuting and wanted to rent a one-bedroom flat near the bank and like a fool, I agreed. At first it was just one or two nights a week. But suddenly he was only home at weekends and he even managed to miss a few of those. Conferences. Foreign trips. Golf with his boss. God knows, I should have seen it. The writing wasn’t just on the wall. It was in capital letters!’
‘How did you find out?’
‘A text. His phone pinged late at night and I saw it for a few seconds before it got covered over by his screen saver. I have a feeling sweet little Naomi probably did it on purpose. She wanted me to know. Of course she did.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Send you an email to Crete? What good would that do?’
‘I was here a few days ago . . .’
‘I’m sorry, Sue. I should have. I wanted to. But part of me was ashamed and I know that’s ridiculous because I’ve got nothing to be ashamed about, but at the same time I’ve always gone on at you about you and Andreas and how you should get your life together and maybe I just wasn’t brave enough to admit that my own life was falling apart.’
‘You know I’d have been there for you.’
‘I know. And don’t have a go at me or I’ll start crying again. I knew you’d find out sooner or later and I was dreading it.’
I had to ask. ‘I suppose Jack and Daisy know.’
She nodded. ‘I had to tell them. I’m afraid they’ve both taken it very badly. Daisy won’t even speak to him. She’s just disgusted by the whole thing. And as for Jack . . . You’ve seen him. I’m trying to put on a brave face. “You’ve still got a father”, “midlife crisis” – and all the rest of it. But if you want the truth, Sue, part of me is quite pleased that they’ve taken against him. He’s a selfish bastard and he’s made a complete mess of everything.’
There was more coming. I could tell.
‘He’s spent a lot of money on Naomi. At the same time, his work at the bank has gone downhill and he’s lost his job. Not that he cares at the moment. He’s in his love nest in Willesden and all’s right with the world. But we’re going to have to sell this house. I could buy him out but I haven’t got the money and basically it’s fifty-fifty. I’m not going to give you all the financial details. It’s a mess.’
‘Where will you live?’
‘I haven’t even thought that through yet. Somewhere smaller. Three Chimneys goes on the market next week.’
She got up from the table and put on the kettle. She needed to have a moment with her back to me. ‘I’m glad you know,’ she said, still not looking at me.
‘I’m so sorry for you, Katie. But I’m glad I know too. There shouldn’t be any secrets between us.’
‘Twenty-five years! It’s amazing how quickly it can all fall apart.’
She stood there waiting for the kettle to boil. Neither of us said anything. Finally, she came back to the table carrying two mugs of coffee. We sat facing each other for a few moments more.
‘Will you stay in Woodbridge?’ I asked.
‘If I can. All my friends are here and they’ve said I can work full-time at Greenways if I want to. Here I am, heading towards fifty and starting full-time work again!’ She looked into the black pool of her coffee. ‘It’s not fair, Sue. It really isn’t.’
‘I wish I could help you.’
‘Just knowing you’re there helps me. And I’ll be fine. This house has got to be worth quite a bit. I’ve got savings. The children are almost old enough to look after themselves . . .’
We talked some more and I promised I’d see her again before I left Suffolk and that I was always at the end of a phone if she needed me. And I know it was wrong of me, but all the time I was thinking of Andreas and wishing that we’d never had that argument in Crete, that I hadn’t written him that email, that I had never come to Branlow Hall.
Later that afternoon, I tried ringing him again. I still got no reply.
The Owl
It was three o’clock when I got back to the hotel and all I wanted to do was go up to my room, lie on the bed with a damp cloth over my eyes and put the whole business of Frank Parris and Cecily Treherne out of my head. Lisa Treherne had given me until twelve o’clock the next day to come to some sort of resolution but I wasn’t even close. I felt strung out after my meeting with Katie. I was worried about her. And talking about my so-called investigation had only shown me how very little I had managed to find out.
But as I entered the reception area to pick up my key I heard my name called out and, turning round, I found myself face-to-face with the last person I’d expected to see. Alan Conway’s ex-wife, Melissa, was standing there with a thin smile that said she knew I was surprised to see her rather than that she was surprised or even pleased to see me. It had been two years since we had met briefly, in her home in Bradford-on-Avon, and she hadn’t changed: short, chestnut hair, high cheekbones, an elegance that bordered on the austere.
‘You don’t remember me,’ she said.
I realised I had been staring at her. ‘Of course I remember you, Melissa,’ I said. ‘I just didn’t expect to see you here. What are you doing in Woodbridge?’
‘I lived here. After Orford, I rented a cottage in the grounds of Branlow Hall.’
‘Yes. I heard.’
‘I made a lot of friends here. Aiden MacNeil helped me at what was obviously a very difficult time for me just after my divorce. When I read about Cecily’s disappearance, I thought I ought to come up and lend my support. You know, you’ve quite upset him.’
‘I didn’t mean to do that.’
‘He seems to think you’ve got it in for him.’ I didn’t respond so she w
ent on. ‘I’m going back to B-on-A this evening, but I was hoping I’d see you. Would you have time for a cup of tea?’
‘Of course, Melissa. I’d like that.’
I didn’t want tea. And I certainly didn’t want to sit there being accused by Melissa. But at the same time, I needed to speak to her. She had been at the hotel on the Thursday before the wedding – in a bad mood, according to Lionel Corby, who had seen her at the spa. And although she had been separated from Alan Conway by the time Atticus Pünd Takes the Case was published, she had known him better than anyone. She had been married to him for eight years and she had been the one who had suggested he write murder mysteries in the first place. It was interesting that she had become friendly with Aiden MacNeil. I had thought Alan’s book had been the only link between the death of Frank Parris and the disappearance of Cecily Treherne. Now I realised that she was another.
We went into the lounge. I would have preferred to sit outside with a cigarette but she had led the way quite forcibly. We sat down.
‘So when did you see Aiden?’ I asked.
‘We had lunch together at the cottage just now. I came over to the hotel hoping that I’d find you.’ A waiter appeared and I ordered a mineral water. Melissa had coffee. ‘You know that he is very much in love with his wife,’ she continued once we were alone. ‘I saw them together before they were married and I can tell you. He dotes on her.’
‘Did they invite you to the wedding?’
‘No.’
So they weren’t that close then. She saw what I was thinking. ‘I was closer to Aiden than I was to Cecily. He was the one who showed me round Oaklands, and when I moved in he made sure everything was all right. I told him about me and Alan and he sort of took me under his wing. He arranged the free pass at the spa for me and I had dinner with him once or twice.’
‘So how well did you get to know him?’ I asked.
‘Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking? The thing about you, Susan, is that you always were very direct, never one to spare anyone’s feelings.’ She half smiled. ‘Aiden and I weren’t in a relationship. We didn’t have sex. The first time I met him was a few weeks before he got married, for heaven’s sake! Anyway, he wasn’t like that. He never tried anything on.’
‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ I said, although of course that had been exactly the thought in my mind.
‘I saw him maybe half a dozen times. And for what it’s worth, when I had dinner with him, Cecily was there too.’
‘What did you think of her?’
‘She seemed nice enough although she didn’t talk very much. She was probably nervous about the wedding. She’d had an argument with her sister and perhaps that had thrown her.’
‘Do you know what they had argued about?’
‘I have no idea. I’m not sure there was very much love lost between them.’ She paused. ‘Actually, I seem to remember that Stefan’s name came up. He was the man who was accused of the murder, wasn’t he? Cecily was annoyed that Lisa had fired him.’
‘Did you see much of Stefan?’
‘I saw him once. He came over to Oaklands to unblock a drain. I gave him five pounds as a tip.’
The waiter arrived with a tray. She waited until he had gone.
‘I didn’t really notice a lot of what was going on when I came here, Susan,’ she continued. ‘You’ve got to remember that I was in a difficult position. The man I was married to and who was the father of my child had just told me he was gay and that he wanted a divorce. We’d sold our house in Orford. Freddy and I had no idea where we were going to live.’
Freddy was her son. He had been twelve years old at the time. ‘Did Freddy stay with you at the cottage?’
‘Some of the time. It was one of the reasons why I rented it. He’d just started at Woodbridge School and I wanted to be close.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘He’s at St Martin’s School of Art.’
I remembered that he’d been applying when Melissa and I last met. ‘I’m glad he got in,’ I said.
‘So am I. I think what Alan did to Freddy was quite cruel. I’ve got absolutely no problem with a gay man coming out and I didn’t even mind that it ended our relationship. I mean, I wasn’t happy about it but I tried not to blame him. If that was his sexual identity, there was no point trying to hide it. But it was different for Freddy. He was twelve years old, in a new school, and suddenly he was reading about his famous gay father in all the newspapers. I have to say that the staff and teachers at Woodbridge School were marvellous, but of course he was teased and bullied. You know what boys are like. Alan never offered him any support. By then, he’d met James and moved into Abbey Grange and all we ever got from him were the monthly cheques.’
‘Did Freddy ever stay with him?’
‘He didn’t want to. I tried to build bridges. I thought that was the responsible thing to do. I was wasting my time. Freddy didn’t want anything to do with him.’
I’d witnessed that for myself. Freddy Conway had come reluctantly to his father’s funeral in Framlingham two years ago. He had shown no emotion apart from a desire to leave as soon as he could.
‘It’s extraordinary to think that you were actually here at the hotel the weekend that Frank Parris was killed,’ I said.
‘Who told you that?’
‘Lionel Corby.’ She had forgotten who he was so I reminded her. ‘He ran the spa.’
‘Oh. You mean the Australian. Leo. Yes, I used to train with him.’
‘Leo?’
‘That was what I always called him.’
It was a thought that had never occurred to me. ‘Did anyone else call him that?’ I asked.
She shrugged. ‘I don’t really know. Why? Is it important?’
I didn’t answer. ‘He said you were angry about something.’
‘When?’
‘On the Thursday.’
‘I really can’t remember, Susan. It was a long time ago. It was probably nothing. Leo could be quite annoying. He was very full of himself. Maybe he’d pissed me off.’
She was right about Lionel. I’d thought the same when I met him in London. Even so, I got the feeling there was something else on her mind. ‘Did you know Frank Parris?’ I asked.
‘Yes.’
‘You’d met him?’
‘I’d seen pictures of him in Campaign and Alan had talked to me about him.’
‘He arrived that same Thursday at the hotel.’
‘Yes.’ She sighed. ‘All right. It was quite an unpleasant surprise. I saw him in reception on the way to the spa. Maybe that was why I was in a bad mood.’
She leaned towards me. There were a couple of other people in the lounge and she didn’t want to be overheard. ‘Look, I’ve been very straight with you about me and Alan,’ she began. ‘We were married. He was gay. We got divorced. I’m not saying that things could have turned out any differently, but Frank Parris was the gatekeeper, if you like. He was the one who took Alan in hand and introduced him to this whole new world – the gay scene in London. They slept together, although Frank wasn’t Alan’s type. Alan liked younger boys from the very start. But Frank also took him in hand there – so to speak. He took him to clubs and helped him to find paid sex with kids barely out of their teens. And some of the stuff he was getting up to! I mean, I’m liberal-minded enough, but really, I didn’t want to know.’
‘He told you about it?’
‘He got drunk once. He told me enough.’
‘So you blamed Frank Parris.’
‘Not enough to hammer him to death, if that’s what you’re getting at, Susan. But let’s just say I didn’t shed too many tears when I heard the news.’
Despite myself, I was warming to Melissa. When she had accosted me in the hotel reception, she had seemed hostile and accusatory. It was also hard for me to forget that she had once had a relationship with Andreas – admittedly, before I met him. But the more she spoke, the more thoughtful and intelligent she seemed. She had
been the creator of Atticus Pünd as much as Alan. In another life, we would have been friends.
‘You know that Alan dedicated the book to Frank Parris,’ I said.
‘Atticus Pünd Takes the Case? Actually, I didn’t. I never read it.’
‘It’s the reason I’m here, Melissa.’
‘I know. Aiden told me. Alan came to the hotel six weeks after the murder. He asked lots of questions. And then he used it all for his new story.’ She shook her head. ‘That’s so typical of him. He could be a complete bastard when he wanted to be – which was most of the time, now I come to think about it.’
‘You didn’t see him when he was here?’
‘No. I was away, thank God. I wouldn’t have wanted to run into him. Not then.’
‘He put a lot of the people who worked here into the book. Lawrence and Pauline Treherne. Derek Endicott. Aiden. The main character is called Melissa. Maybe he was thinking of you.’
‘What happens to her?’
‘She gets strangled.’
Melissa laughed at that. ‘That doesn’t surprise me. He was always playing games. He did the same thing in Atticus Pünd Investigates and No Rest for the Wicked. And Magpie Murders, of course.’ She looked me straight in the eye. ‘Did he make Aiden the killer?’
‘No.’
‘He’s not, Susan. Believe me. That’s what I wanted to tell you. Nobody was kinder to me than Aiden when I first came here, and I told you, I saw him with Cecily. She was quite childish. She reminded me a bit of Dora in David Copperfield. A bit soppy. She never had anything very interesting to say. But Aiden was all over her. I think I’m a good judge of character and I can tell you, he’d never do anything to hurt her. You turning up and accusing him—’
‘I haven’t accused him of anything, Melissa.’
‘That’s not how he sees it.’
We might have begun an argument but just then Lars appeared, coming over to the table. ‘Miss Ryeland?’ he asked.
‘Yes?’
‘Do you drive a red MGB?’
‘Yes.’ I was puzzled and concerned.
‘Someone has just rung reception. They say you’re blocking their way.’
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