Murder in the Fens: An utterly gripping English cozy mystery novel (A Tara Thorpe Mystery Book 4)
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Blake frowned. ‘What were you able to do for him?’
‘I was close to Julie, and she was a threat to him. At first, he just wanted the information I already had on her. She’d crossed his radar when she went on various marches against Lockwood’s, and then he got word that she was in an illicit relationship with his son, John. He thought it was that way round, and that she’d maybe hooked up with him to try to find out more about the family. But I was able to tell him it had been the other way about. Julie’s protests against the business became more extreme after she’d met John. I can remember telling Sir Alistair that, the day when I went to meet him at the Master’s Lodge. And the fact seemed to worry him. I think he suspected John had shared personal information with Julie that had made her feel sorry for him. She seemed to want to fight his corner, against his parents.’
She took another sip of water and blinked. Her eyes were dry now, but wide. She recounted events as though she was in a trance.
‘He made me an offer. I was to watch Julie: stick to her like glue, get myself into the same friendship groups as her and onto the same marches. He wanted me in her room, looking at her papers, peering over her shoulder to see what websites she was browsing. I was to report it all back to him – secretly, regularly. And if I did all that, so that he knew how far she was getting with her research on his firm and his family, he promised me there would always be a job for me with Lockwood’s. Not just something junior – a really well-paid executive role. I wouldn’t have to worry about passing my finals, or any of that. The only other thing he asked of me in return was to drop any idea of complaining about Lucien. It’s possible Lucien had some idea of what the master was getting out of the deal, and Sir Alistair bought his silence by making me stay quiet too.’
The building bricks Blake had erected when assessing Bella’s character and motivations had started to wobble as she spoke, and one by one they’d come falling down. ‘You dressed like Julie to try to fit in with her crowd?’
The student nodded. ‘It came across as false. I overdid it, but I’d got no experience of trying anything like that before. It was akin to working undercover, acting as a spy.’
‘Didn’t you feel guilty, for betraying your friend?’ Megan asked.
Bella winced. ‘It didn’t seem that harmful. And, to be honest, I always thought she went completely over the top with her protests and causes, so I could understand Sir Alistair being irritated by her efforts. It never occurred to me that anything I did would affect her future. But going along with Sir Alistair’s wishes secured mine – and that was a huge deal to me. Julie would have got top grades. She never had to worry. Or at least,’ her voice cracked, ‘that’s what I thought.’
Her sense of priorities made Blake’s insides contract. He paused for a moment. ‘Did your brief from Sir Alistair expand to include Stuart Gilmour?’
The girl nodded. ‘The master wasn’t sure how much Julie had shared with him. Or how much information he’d managed to acquire, rather.’
Blake raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘That’s what split them up. They both wanted careers as journalists.’ She took a great gulp and a sob escaped her. ‘Julie wanted to do some good – unmask wrongdoing – all that kind of thing. Sometimes I felt I couldn’t ever be PC enough for her. But she cared. I shouldn’t have mocked her.’
‘But Stuart’s different?’
She shivered and nodded. ‘He’s just driven by his own ambition. He’d worked out that if he could break a really huge story, he’d be made. Probably get a top job on one of the national newspapers. All of that. He got the idea that Julie was onto something big about Lockwood’s. At first, he tried to persuade her to share her research. When she refused, he took to bullying her.’
‘Yet she agreed to see him over the summer.’
Bella nodded. ‘I knew he’d visited. And afterwards Julie said she thought he’d taken some notes of hers, so I guess that was his reason for worming his way in. I tried to find out what was going on, as part of my work for the master, but I never got to the bottom of it.’
Blake remembered the text Gilmour had sent Julie. Read this! I know about John. And I’ve got evidence. Now tell me you don’t want to talk. Had he meant evidence about their relationship? Or had he been trying to tell her he’d got the information that she’d been looking for? If so, had it been a bluff? Either way, he’d known how to blag his way into Julie’s room.
‘Gilmour’s been pretty cagey with us each time we’ve interviewed him,’ Blake said. ‘Is he involved in what happened to Julie at all?’
Bella’s eyes were desolate as she shook her head. ‘I followed him just recently – so I could make my report to Sir Alistair. I saw him talking to the editor of Uncovered, the student paper Julie worked on. They argued. My guess is that he’s still trying to find the story he thinks Julie was onto. And maybe to work out for himself who killed her. He could sell the scoop to one of the nationals.’
There was a moment’s silence.
‘So, bring us up to date,’ Blake said. ‘It’s going to be hard, but you’ve done really well so far. What happened in the run-up to Saturday? Did something occur that put Sir Alistair on high alert?’
Bella shook her head, not meeting their eyes. ‘That’s not exactly how it was. I went to see Julie in her room, and she’d been doodling on her pad. She’d written Scotland and another name – a place name it looked like. I asked her what that was all about. She just shook her head and said nothing, but I noticed, after that, that she covered the pad up with a pile of books and shut her laptop lid. She was being secretive, and I got the impression it was far from nothing.’ She shrank down in her chair as she spoke. ‘When she went to the loo, I took a photo of the pad on my phone. I wasn’t due to see the master that day, but he’d been pushing me to find out more. He didn’t believe I was digging deeply enough. And suddenly, here was something fresh.’ Her eyes were welling up again. ‘By that time, I was scared of him, instead of my parents. So, I went to the lodge, but he was away. Lady Lockwood invited me in, and I could tell she knew exactly what I’d been asked to do. She wanted me to pass on my news to her, in case it was urgent.’
‘So, you showed her the photo you’d taken?’ Megan said.
There was a long pause before she nodded. ‘I knew the moment I saw her face that I was right – I’d hit on something crucial. She went very pale, and I could see how hard she was gripping my phone. Her knuckles were white. She asked me if I knew why Julie had written the words, but I had no idea.’
Blake was guessing that fact had saved Bella’s life.
‘She told me to call Julie that evening. I was to tell her that Lady Lockwood needed to confide in her, and when she knew the truth she’d understand. I wasn’t to go back to our lodgings, but I should offer to meet Julie outside the lodge so that we could see Lady Lockwood together, for safety and moral support.’ Bella gulped back a sob and shook her head. ‘I actually thought Julie would be pleased – that Lady Lockwood was going to pass on some kind of secret.’
Blake felt sick to the stomach.
‘I called Julie and she came straight away, as I’d asked. I understand now why Lady Lockwood arranged things as she did. If anyone saw Julie leaving our lodgings, she wanted to make sure they saw her alone. And she wanted her to leave for the lodge in a hurry, so she didn’t have time to tell anyone else what she was up to.’ Bella shook her head. ‘She wouldn’t have, anyway. She always worked independently.’
‘So, you went into the lodge together?’ Blake’s own throat felt dry now.
Bella nodded. ‘Lady Lockwood poured us a gin and tonic each, then went back to the drinks table. I thought she was about to pour one for herself. But instead of doing that she swung the decanter round and smashed it into the side of Julie’s head.’
Bella buried her head in her arms, down on the table. ‘I still can’t believe it! I went from having some kind of job and a future, to seeing my friend killed. I ha
d no idea what she was planning.’
‘Julie wasn’t dead. Not at that point. Why didn’t you raise the alarm?’
‘I couldn’t speak.’ She lifted her head slightly. ‘I was shaking all over and Lady Lockwood was still holding the decanter. She looked wild. She told me I must have realised what would have to happen if Julie found out something important. She said I was an accessory. It was my evidence that she was acting on, and I’d brought Julie to her. No one would believe I was innocent if it was her word against mine. Everyone knew I was obsessed with Julie and that I wanted her boyfriend.’ Her voice was muffled as she put her head back down on her arms again. ‘She’d done her homework, you see. That was how it looked. And I genuinely had fancied Stuart. We’d been having sex for a while.’
‘So, she persuaded you to help her?’
Bella nodded. ‘Julie was unconscious, so we carried her down to the basement and put her in Lady Lockwood’s harp case and fastened the lid.’ She sat up again now, her eyes wide with horror. ‘We went back upstairs but after a minute we could hear her, struggling down below. Lady Lockwood told me to leave. It was too late now. She made it clear that if I said nothing, the Lockwood family would always look after me, but if I told, she’d put her own spin on what had happened.’
She’d done that all right, but Bella could still have done the right thing. If only she’d gone for help immediately. The situation could have been so different…
‘I had the keys to Julie’s room. I removed the page of the notepad with the place name on it. Lady Lockwood had made me promise to take it to her that night, so she could see it was destroyed. And then I planted the heart, cut up into tiny pieces. She had various ideas about how to make the murder look like a crime of passion. She’d got it all planned. She must have worked quickly after I showed her the photograph of Julie’s notes.’ Bella’s hands were shaking.
‘You made it up, then, about Julie being sent the heart in advance, and about someone putting flowers in her bike basket?’
She nodded, once again not meeting his eyes. ‘Lady Lockwood thought of various… refinements that would help build up the right picture. It was she that suggested I should tell Tara Thorpe that I suspected her son, John, of being guilty of the murder, too.
‘On the night Julie died, in the small hours, I went back to the Master’s Lodge. The basement was quiet by then. I helped Lady Lockwood carry Julie’s body from there to her car. We lined the boot with bin bags before we put her in.’ Blake couldn’t imagine the memories in Bella’s mind. ‘We drove to Wandlebury Ring and heaved her body into the clearing. It looked like the sort of place where lovers might meet in secret. Lady Lockwood had collected some flowers from the college gardens. She put them in Bella’s pocket, and tugged off Stuart’s ring. She was violent about it. She even messed around with her underwear – yanking at it.’ Bella was shaking her head sharply now, as though the action could rid her of the images that were stuck in her mind.
‘She said it was because it would make it look as though a boyfriend had done it in a fit of anger, but it was she who was furious. She blamed Julie for sticking her nose in. That was how it seemed. On the drive back into town she said she should have been practising her harp all evening.’
‘And you never saw Sir Alistair that night, or made contact with him?’
She shook her head. ‘Lady Lockwood was expecting him, but in the end he didn’t come home. She was nervous the whole time, thinking he’d turn up at any moment – or that he might have been back whilst we were over at the Ring – so she must have been worried about acting without his input.’
It seemed he really had stayed in London, as he claimed.
‘Does he know what went on now?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘And what about tonight?’
‘Lady Lockwood thought Tara had clicked. Apparently, she said something to Douglas Lockwood about the harp case. His mother saw them talking and asked what had been said. The moment she heard, she called me and told me we were under threat. She said I had to get Tara Thorpe somewhere remote and get rid of her. I couldn’t believe what she was asking of me, but I felt trapped and utterly alone. I hadn’t got a clue what to do, but Wandlebury came to mind again. I’d left the party at the lodge early and I was with Stuart when she called. I came up with a story, and pinched his mobile, so no one would be able to reach him to verify what I said. I was very short of time, but Lady Lockwood said she’d sent Douglas after Detective Thorpe, to hold her up.’
‘He was in on the plan?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. She just asked him to check if there were any updates. I ran, hell for leather, to make it to St Oswald’s in time to catch Detective Thorpe. I was genuinely panicking – I could hardly breathe – so when I told my story, my fear was real. But it wasn’t Stuart I was frightened of – it was Lady Lockwood, and my own situation. I was having to make split-second decisions and I tried to go through with Lady Lockwood’s instructions. I felt as though I had to – I was in too deep. But I’ve never wanted to kill anyone. I could have done it. I had the chance – especially when I was standing there with the stake. But in reality, even if you hadn’t turned up and taken it off me, I’d never have gone through with it.’
Her principles hadn’t saved Julie though – and Tara’s head injuries could have killed her. Even before the scheme had turned violent, she’d been prepared to sell her friend down the river for the promise of a well-paid job. But perhaps her mind had been twisted by parents who cared about results and status more than they did about their daughter. He swallowed back all he wanted to say and glanced at Megan, who came to the rescue.
‘You still don’t know the significance of the words written on Julie’s pad?’
‘Scotland? And the other place name?’ Bella sagged in her chair. ‘No. I caused the death of my own friend, and I still have no idea why.’
And given the inconclusive search results in Julie’s internet history, Blake had a feeling she hadn’t known either. It made his heart ache.
Sixty-Five
Blake stood in his kitchen, back in Fen Ditton, nearing the bottom of a large measure of whisky. It was past 3 a.m. now, but he couldn’t bring himself to sit down, much less go to bed. The case sent him pacing round the room. That place in Scotland – what did it mean? And swirling in amongst the questions that remained came thoughts of Tara in hospital, and of Babette, upstairs in bed, and the words between him and his wife, as yet unsaid.
Battening down his feelings during the day, and quashing the desire to rehearse questions about Matt Smith and his wife’s relationship, had left him full of pent-up anger. How could she have told him such a fundamental lie? Let him think Kitty’s father had been a fleeting connection – a fling who didn’t live up to expectations when she ran away with him?
Now, with the whisky warming his insides, and the lack of sleep loosening the control he might have hung on to, all his frustration came to the surface. The lid of the box he kept his feelings in was off.
And at that moment, he heard the stairs creak.
A second later, Babette was standing in the kitchen doorway, her hair tousled, eyes sleepy, a pout on her lips.
‘I thought I saw a light on down here. You could at least come to bed and lie next to me, now you’re in the house. It wouldn’t compensate for never seeing you in the day, but it would be a start.’
If it hadn’t been for the whisky, the case, and the late hour – or for her lies, her selfishness, and her cowardice – he might not have thrown his glass down onto the tiles, watching it smash into what looked like a hundred pieces.
He heard Babette gasp, and she took a step back. ‘Garstin – what the hell?’
But it had given him the release he needed – brought him back to reality. For an anxious moment he listened for any sound from the children, but all was quiet upstairs.
He walked behind Babette, crunching shards from the tumbler underfoot, and closed the kitchen
door. ‘We need to talk.’
‘How can we possibly talk? I can’t even walk to sit at the table now you’ve covered the floor in glass.’
‘You don’t have to sit to talk. I got into a conversation with your mother about Matt Smith.’ He watched her eyes, saw the uncertainty there. She’d have no idea how much had been said, so she wouldn’t know how to frame her lies.
‘So you know…’
He nodded. ‘I know.’ He wasn’t going first.
‘Garstin.’ She tiptoed round the fragments of his whisky tumbler. ‘I let you think he was a brief fling, little more than a one-night stand, because it seemed so much more hurtful to admit the truth. It doesn’t alter the facts. When I ran off with him, I realised I’d made the most massive mistake of my life. It was you that I loved.’
She put her hand up to his cheek. He put his hand on hers, then wrapped his fingers round it and yanked it away.
‘Not good enough. I can’t be in a marriage that’s built on lies. It’s too much. You knew him for years, Babette.’ He caught his breath; paused to stop himself from shouting. ‘Your mother said the relationship was too passionate to be stable – on–off for all that time. So forgive me if I don’t believe your story about why you came home again. If you’d been in love with him for that long, there’s no way you’d have given up on your relationship after two weeks, because he wasn’t being sufficiently attentive to Kitty. You’d gone to bloody Australia, for God’s sake. You’d have told him how you felt, and you’d have worked at it. You came back for another reason. And frankly, I don’t even care what that was any more. This is the end. I can’t live with someone who lies to me in such a casual way.’
Babette dropped into a chair at the table, her eyes wide, face white. ‘I’ve left out information to protect you. We can be happy.’ He could hear the desperation in her voice. ‘We were happy.’