“I don’t know.” Matt leant his elbows on the desk. “And why the old boy? Wouldn’t you have expected her to go for Anjali Kishtoo rather than him?”
“But they didn’t know about her.”
“True.”
For a few minutes they sat in silence, both preoccupied with their own thoughts. Matt got up and stood in front of the white board, studying it for a moment. “The sister,” he said, “Megan. She seems very upset about her father’s death – more so, I thought, than the rest of them. Fabia told me she was scared of him, but then, I think they all were in their own way.”
“I wish I’d met him,” Dilys said. “He wasn’t there when we went up to see about that silver. It’s so much easier to understand the motivations and all that if you know the victim.”
“But we very rarely do.”
“I suppose.”
“And then there’s Mrs Giordano, Nonna. Isn’t that Italian for granny?”
“Yes.”
“But isn’t she their aunt?”
Dilys shrugged. “Maybe it’s a diminutive of her name.”
“What did you think of her?”
“She seems a very calm person, but it could be like a swan, lots of stuff going on under the surface.”
“I found out that she came to live at the Abbey after her Italian husband deserted her. She’s been like a surrogate mother to Rodric and Megan. I wonder if there was more to her relationship with her sister’s husband than just helping out with the children.”
“Hard to tell. Why don’t you ask Fabia?” Dilys said with a little smile.
Matt glared at her. “Shut up, Dilys.”
Her smile turned into a full-blown grin, which Matt chose to ignore. Once again, he glanced at the whiteboard.
“And then we come to our friend, Mike Cotter.”
“Well now, there’s someone I’d like to take down,” Dilys said.
“You and me both.”
“Did you see the way he looked at me while we were interviewing him on Saturday? Slime ball.”
“I did. He’s certainly a nasty piece of work, the stuff Tom Watkins has turned up on him proves that. But, in relation to this, what motive would he have for getting rid of Mansell senior?” Matt asked.
“Maybe the old man found out about his activities.”
“Possible, but I’d expect him to lash out rather than use poison.”
“Perhaps he wanted to make it look as if someone else had done it.”
Matt’s eyes widened. “Now that, Dilys, is a definite possibility.”
“Have we got any more on what he’s been up to?”
“No,” Matt said. “And since he wasn’t there today, I don’t think we can do much else about him at the moment. Just get Tom to keep a weather eye and glean as much as he can from his Swansea contacts.” Matt rubbed at his eyes then glanced at his watch. “Come on, Dilys, that’ll do for today; let’s shut up shop and start fresh tomorrow.”
* * *
Fabia had found it very difficult to settle to anything all day. As a distraction they’d gone out to do some shopping earlier and she’d introduced Anjali to Reynold’s cheese shop in the High Street. Then Anjali had made a bee line for a newly opened fabric shop and spent ages talking to the woman who ran it. Now Fabia was preparing supper, pottering around the kitchen, her mind miles away from what she was doing as she wondered how Matt was getting on. When the phone rang, her heart leapt, but it wasn’t Matt.
“Fabia? Is that you?” The hesitant voice was instantly recognisable. Megan.
“Hallo, Megan. I’m so sorry to hear about your father, it must be dreadful for you all.”
“Oh Fabia, it’s all so awful.” There was a sob in her voice. “The police were here for ages today, questioning everyone. They go on and on and it’s so difficult to work out what they think.”
“I’m afraid they have to do that, Megan.”
“But it’s ridiculous. No-one would want to harm Da, no-one.”
“However,” Fabia said as gently as she could, “it seems someone did.”
Megan ignored this. “I know he could be a bit difficult at times, but deep down he was such a dear. It could have been an accident.”
“Could it?”
“Well, I know that wasn’t what the post-mortem said.” She seemed to take it for granted that Fabia knew what the result was. “But they could have made a mistake. You know about these things from when you were in the police. Surely there’ve been times when they got it wrong, haven’t there?”
“I suppose, but not often. I believe the results were pretty conclusive.”
“Have they interviewed you too then?”
“No, Megan, but I have spoken to–” Fabia could have kicked herself, stupid to say such a thing.
“To someone who’s part of the investigation? Who?”
Fabia ignored this question, tried to change the subject. “I’m sure you want whoever is responsible to be caught. I know how unpleasant an investigation like this can be, and I’ll support you in any way I can, but it has to be got through, and the more information you give the police, the sooner it’ll all be over.”
“Can I come around to see you tomorrow? It’d be such a help.”
It occurred to Fabia that it might be useful to Matt if she talked to Megan. Without thinking she said, “Of course you can.” And then she wondered if it’d be awkward, given Anjali’s presence in the house, but she could always keep out of the way while Megan was there.
“Getting away from here would help so much. Did you send the chapters to your agent – what’s her name?”
“Sheena Matthews. Yes, I did, she’s interested to meet you, but maybe this isn’t the time.”
“But Fabia, it would help so much. It’d take my mind off this horrible business.”
Fabia felt a little taken aback by this but didn’t comment directly. “Well, if you’re sure it would help.”
“Can I come before lunch tomorrow?” Megan interrupted.
“That’d be fine.”
“I know it may seem strange that I want to talk to you about the book, but I want to talk about everything else as well,” Megan assured her. Her voice dropped to a breathy whisper. “I’m so worried, Fabia. What if Rodi was involved, or Delma? She was always arguing with Da about the horses. And there’s that brother of hers, I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
Fabia didn’t know how to respond to this. But she didn’t have to as a moment later Megan said, in a totally different tone of voice, “Yes, yes, that’s very kind, thank you. Goodbye.” And the call was abruptly ended.
She guessed that someone must have interrupted the call and wondered who it had been. But there was nothing she could do about it, so there was no point in worrying, she told herself firmly.
* * *
Yet again there was a ringing, but this time it was Fabia’s mobile and one glance at the screen told her it wasn’t Matt. But still, it was someone Fabia was delighted to hear from.
“Hallo, Bella,” she said. “I was wondering whether or not to give you a ring. How are you?”
But there were no preliminaries with Bella. “Fabia, what the hell is going on? Garan told me about Caradoc’s death. He can’t be dead, Fabia, I only spoke to him a couple of weeks ago.” It was obvious she assumed Fabia would have all the details.
“I’m really sorry, Bella, but it’s true.”
“Sheryl sent me a rather incoherent text this morning saying there was more to it and that she’d phone later, but she hasn’t. I couldn’t get hold of her until this evening, and now she tells me the police are involved and they think he was murdered.”
“She’s right. I’m afraid it’s been confirmed by the post-mortem. He was poisoned.”
She didn’t question it, just asked, “What with?”
“A hefty dose of some animal tranquiliser.”
“Oh my God!” There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, then Bella asked, “The sort they use on ho
rses?”
“And other large animals,” Fabia said, judiciously.
“But which of– I mean who would do such a thing?”
“I’ve no idea, Bella. It’s only the start of the investigation. My friend Matt Lambert is on the case. Do you remember him?”
“Of course I do. He’s that gorgeous man you used to work with, isn’t he?”
“Yes. He’s good, and he’s got a great team in Newport. I’m sure they’ll find out who did it.”
“Do you think it has anything to do with Caradoc’s will?”
Fabia was surprised by this question. “What do you mean?”
Bella went on, her tone a little tentative. “Caradoc told me he was going to make changes, but he wasn’t specific. I knew he was a bit of a tight wad, used to tell him he had a hedgehog in his pocket, so I asked him outright if my Garan would be okay and he assured me he would – he was adamant he wouldn’t be changing that part of the will. I believed him because he always told me he’d look after my boy. The thing is, there was the other family – the one in Mauritius – he’d been thinking about them a lot lately.”
Fabia’s eyes widened in surprise. “How on earth did you know about them?”
“He told me about them ages ago, bless him. I think I was the only one he had told in fact. We used to talk a lot when he came around to see me, we’d play backgammon and just talk, oh, about everything.” Her voice broke slightly, and Fabia could hear her take a deep breath before she went on. “I think he found it a release, to be able to talk freely without all of them watching his every move and reacting to his every growl. And he knew I wouldn’t repeat anything he said.”
“You were a very good friend to him, Bella.”
“I suppose.” There was still a catch in her voice. “Garan was a mistake, a glorious one so far as I’m concerned, I love my boy to bits, but if the truth were known, Caradoc and I were never really suited. After those first few encounters, we decided just to be good friends. I was very fond of him and enjoyed his company and I think, in a way, we stopped each other being lonely. Can you understand that?”
Fabia smiled. “Of course I can.”
“I can’t believe he’s gone. He was such a– a force of nature. I wonder if his daughter in Mauritius should be informed? What was her name? Something like Serena or Sabita.”
Without thinking, Fabia said, “Sabita; she’s been told.”
“How come? Rodric and Megan don’t know she exists, at least, that’s what Caradoc told me.”
“There’ve been a few developments, love,” Fabia said. She took a deep breath and told her quickly about Branwyn Pierce’s researches and the final result. “Did you know about Anjali?”
“No. Just about his first wife, as he called her, though I don’t think they were actually married, and he told me about their daughter. But when he mentioned changing the will, I knew there was more to it. He did hint that he might have some interesting news for me soon, but he wouldn’t tell me any more than that. I had no idea all this had been going on. I’ve been away for the last week, on a yoga retreat, but that’s no excuse. I feel really bad now. Oh, Fabia, what a mess.”
“It is a bit,” Fabia said sympathetically. “So, you obviously weren’t aware that he and Anjali had met up in London about ten days ago?”
“No, no idea at all.”
“And no idea he’d changed parts of his will in her favour?”
There was a gasp from the other end of the line. “Oh lord, that’s what he meant. Garan didn’t tell me anything about that.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know yet,” Fabia suggested.
“Maybe. What on earth has Caradoc done?” Fabia could visualise Bella running a hand through her mass of dark hair. “He was always impulsive, just like me. Garan wouldn’t be here if we weren’t, but I always thought he was determined to keep the estate intact, to pass it on to his legitimate children.”
“I don’t think that’s changed, anyway the estate is entailed. But he has left a large part of the contents of the Abbey, and the stables, to Anjali, in spite of the fact he and her grandmother weren’t married.”
“But that wouldn’t have weighed with him,” Bella said. “Look at how good he’s been to Garan, in spite of the waves of disapproval from Elizabeth’s sister.”
“Rhiannon? Did she disapprove?”
“I’ll say, bloody Nonna. She used to cut me dead if we met in the village. It didn’t bother me, I’m too much of a gypsy to care what people think of me. I put it down to her religion. She’s a devout Roman Catholic, Elizabeth escaped it, I think, but Rhiannon stuck with what their parents believed. She thought it was all very immoral, Caradoc and me, and then when Garan was born, oh lord what a fuss!”
Fabia smiled. “I know what you mean about her. I don’t think she approves of me either. She said something about artists when I was staying at the Abbey, what was it? Oh yes, how nice it must be to be able to do a little bit of painting, how she wished she had the time. I got the message.”
“That sounds just like her. But she’s always been completely devoted to the family. She’s run that place like clockwork for years. You can’t fault her for her devotion to them. I think she might have been a bit in love with Caradoc, but he wasn’t interested, and I don’t think it lasted long with her. Given how hard she worked for them all, I used to tell Caradoc he was damn lucky to have her.”
“Look, Bella, there’s something else. Anjali came down to Newport to meet him but, by the time she arrived, it was too late.”
“Oh, poor girl.”
“Yes, and, well, she’s still here. She’s been staying with me since last Thursday.”
Bella reacted in a way typical to her. “Thank goodness you were there to scoop her up,” she said, and then asked, “Is she going to meet up with the rest of the family?”
“She met Rodric, through their solicitor. He wasn’t particularly welcoming. They’ve got a DNA test planned, but I don’t think he doubts that she’s Caradoc’s granddaughter.”
“I’m going to come down, Fabia. I want to see my boy anyway, and Sheryl’s a bit worried about him. One thing she did tell me, this was before I went away, is that Delma’s brother has been staying at the Abbey; Mike something or other, she says he’s an absolute shit.”
“His name’s Mike Cotter, and Sheryl’s right.”
“She thinks he’s responsible for Garan going back to gambling,” Bella said, “which is very worrying. Sheryl said she thinks he’s been threatening Garan.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me. Would you like me to mention it to Matt Lambert?”
“Would you?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you, Fabia.”
Fabia heard her take a deep breath.
“Right,” Bella said. “It’s definitely time for me to come and check everything out. Can we meet up?”
“Of course, let me know when you get to Castellgwyn and we can organise something.”
“Thank you, my friend. It’ll be like old times. And I’ll bring you one of my new pots, I think you’ll like them.”
They ended the call and Fabia tried Matt’s mobile, but it just rang and rang, so she sent him a quick text. She sighed as she put the mobile back in her pocket. Bella was right, it was one hell of a mess.
Chapter 14
It was a bright morning and Mike was very pleased with himself. Things were going well, in spite of the police interfering with his business activities. No way was he going to let them get anywhere with that.
He grinned to himself, thinking back to his conversation the day before. He prided himself on being a good judge of character and he’d got it right this time. He’d laid down his conditions: regular but reasonable payments – it was never a good idea to push too hard – but he’d made sure his terms had been clearly understood. There was no doubt in his mind this target could wriggle out of paying up – there was too much at stake. And if there was any sign of it, he’d come down hard. He grinned again
at the thought.
Carrying his golf clubs over his shoulder, and jingling the car keys in his hand, he made his way to the Porsche, and patted the bonnet. A round of golf at Celtic Manor was just what he needed; perhaps he could do some networking. It had been a good idea to take out that short term membership. He slung the clubs in the boot and set off. As he drove through the gateway, he gave the stone dragons the finger. Ostentatious crap. If this bloody family thought they were going to get the better of him, they had another think coming. First, another good strong cup of coffee at the pub, which he wouldn’t be paying for – that weakling, Garan, always gave in to a bit of pressure – and then he’d be on his way. As usual he drove at speed, down the lane from the Abbey to Castellgwyn, and screeched to a halt in the pub car park.
It was just after he got onto the motorway, half an hour later, that he began to feel sleepy and wondered why. It hadn’t been a heavy night and that poor sod hadn’t retaliated when he hit him. Mike flexed his fingers and grinned; that had been a good punch, it would teach the bugger a lesson. Then he frowned, shook his head. He was finding it hard to concentrate. What the hell? The car in front seemed to be accelerating then slowing, accelerating then slowing. God, the driver had to be some kind of dickhead. A moment later his vision became blurred and he shook his head again, trying to clear the fog, but it was no good. The Porsche seemed to be swerving to the left of its own accord. He heard a clamour of hooting and came to just long enough to see the tailgate of the juggernaut in front bearing down on him.
* * *
Anjali and Fabia were both working in the dining room, Anjali on her laptop, Fabia on a drawing pad. A companionable silence had reigned for some time, but it was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.
“That’ll probably be Megan,” Fabia said.
Anjali looked up. “I think I’ll keep out of the way, if that’s okay with you.”
“Of course,” Fabia said, and went into the hall to open the door.
Megan was standing there looking around her nervously, as if she thought she was being followed.
“Come in, come in,” Fabia said, at which she scuttled in and Fabia closed the door.
Murder at the Old Abbey Page 14