Element of Doubt

by Dorothy Simpson

  ‘Sir,’ called Lineham.

  Marilyn Barnes came out into the corridor, closing the door behind her as Thanet hurried back.

  ‘She’ll be all right for a few minutes now,’ she said. ‘What did you want to ask me?’

  No point in wasting time. ‘It seems that Mrs Tarrant had taken a new lover,’ said Thanet. ‘Could you tell us who he is?’

  Marilyn gave him a long, considering look. ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Shall we just say that it has … emerged, during the course of our investigation.’

  She sighed, shook her head, lips compressed. ‘Have you talked to Mr Tarrant about this?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘He denies all knowledge of it. He seemed distressed.’

  ‘He didn’t know. I was hoping he wouldn’t find out.’

  ‘You’re sure he knew nothing about it?’

  ‘Pretty sure, yes. Mr Tarrant rarely comes home in the middle of the day.’

  ‘So who …?’

  The bedroom door opened and Lavinia Tarrant stood dramatically framed in the opening, posing with one foot forward, like a fashion model.

  ‘Is that you, Jack?’

  Thanet suppressed a gasp. Could this really be the sweet old lady they had talked to the previous day? She was heavily made-up and might have stepped straight from the fashion pages of the late nineteen twenties. Her dress was of pale orange crêpe, with a low, boat-shaped neckline, a very short, gathered, two-tier skirt and a low-waisted, tubular bodice decorated with a geometric design of brightly coloured sequins. Pointed shoes, dangling earrings, and a waist-long string of pearls completed the flapper image. But once again the effect was merely grotesque, the contrast between the bright young clothes and the shrunken body within them a tragic reminder of mortality. Thanet remembered a conversation he’d had once with an old lady in her nineties. ‘The sad thing is,’ she’d said, ‘I still feel sixteen inside.’ Would Lavinia Tarrant say the same? he wondered.

  ‘No, Lavinia,’ said Marilyn. ‘Jack’s not here yet.’ Then, in an undertone, to Thanet, ‘Jack was her husband.’ She turned back to the old lady. ‘You said he wouldn’t be here until this evening, remember?’

  Lavinia frowned, eyes clouded with the effort to resurrect the memory. She shook her head. ‘Did I? I don’t remember.’

  Marilyn took her arm. ‘Why don’t we go into the sitting room?’ She began to steer her charge along the corridor.

  ‘Miss Barnes,’ said Thanet urgently. ‘You still haven’t told me who he is.’

  She paused, glancing back at him, her expression wry.

  ‘It was Tim Speed,’ she said.

  FIFTEEN

  Thanet raised a hand in a gesture of acknowledgement, then hustled Lineham away. At times like this, even after all these years in the force, the sergeant’s streak of puritanism tended to surface. Sure enough, as soon as the door had closed behind Marilyn Barnes and Lavinia, Lineham hissed, ‘But she was old enough to be his mother!’

  Thanet glanced around, then frowned at Lineham and shook his head. Lineham took the hint and remained silent as they went down the stairs, across the hall and through the front door into the sunshine.

  They both blinked and screwed up their eyes against the sudden transition to brilliant light.

  ‘What’s the time, Mike?’

  Lineham squinted at his watch. ‘Quarter past twelve, sir.’

  ‘Right. Speed starts his lunch hour at twelve thirty. There’s time for a sandwich and a quick pint at the Dog and Pheasant before seeing what he has to say for himself.’

  ‘OK, sir.’ Lineham set off across the gravel.

  ‘Where are you off to, Mike?’

  ‘The car.’

  ‘Mike, do you realise how far away the Dog and Pheasant is?’

  Lineham shrugged. ‘Four hundred yards, sir? But I thought we were going on to Mr Speed’s house after that.’

  ‘We are. And that’s another four hundred yards or so. Half a mile in all. You’ll lose the use of your legs one of these days.’ And Thanet set off at a brisk pace for the gate.

  ‘I just like driving, that’s all,’ Lineham protested, falling in beside him.

  ‘There’s more to life than a gleaming bonnet and a powerful engine, Mike. Anyway, we’ll have time to talk.’

  ‘He’s only eighteen,’ said Lineham, instantly slipping back into gear again. ‘And her son’s friend.’

  ‘Not unheard of,’ said Thanet. ‘Come on, Mike, don’t be naive. You’ve come across far worse than this. They’re both consenting adults, after all. He’s a good-looking young man and she was a very beautiful woman.’

  ‘You don’t seem too surprised, I must say. You’d already guessed, I suppose.’

  ‘The possibility did cross my mind, I must admit, while we were talking after seeing Mr Tarrant just now. I could kick myself for not seeing it before. No, what I find much more interesting are the implications.’

  ‘You mean, how the other people involved would have reacted if they knew.’

  ‘Yes. I rather think that’s the crux of the matter. Did they know?’

  The two men walked in silence for a few moments, then Lineham said, ‘I’m not sure about Mr Tarrant. I think I believed him, but … I suppose, if he did know, it would be understandable if he hoped it wouldn’t get out. It would make his wife’s reputation sink to an all-time low, if it was generally known she’d been cradle-snatching.’

  ‘Quite. But as far as the Speeds are concerned, I’d guess they do know, wouldn’t you agree? And I shouldn’t think they’d want it to get out, either. It would certainly explain why they were so touchy every time Tim was mentioned.’

  ‘I bet they only found out that lunchtime,’ said Lineham. ‘Yes,’ he went on excitedly, ‘if you think about it, it all fits. Remember the family row the neighbour overheard, and the atmosphere between Speed and Tim which PC Driver noticed, that afternoon? And if Speed had known before then, why would he have been lurking in those bushes? No, I’d guess he suspected she’d found someone else – perhaps because she’d put him off once or twice, whatever – and wanted to find out who it was. So he hung about until Tim came out and then …’

  ‘What?’

  Another silence, while they speculated.

  ‘It must have been an awful shock for him,’ said Lineham. ‘It’s one thing to suspect you’re being given the push, another to know you’ve been supplanted by your own son. I should think he’d have gone after him there and then, caught him up in the garden.’

  ‘That neighbour of the Speeds, Mrs Shrimpton … What time did she say she heard them having that row?’

  ‘One fifteen I think, sir. And she saw Tim leave ten minutes later.’

  ‘Yet his lunch hour is supposed to be from twelve to one. It looks as though they both went straight home from High Gables.’

  ‘They didn’t leave together in the car, though, sir. That witness who saw Speed park in the field would surely have mentioned it, if he had arrived alone and left with someone else.’

  ‘But as we were saying a few minutes ago, it’s only a short distance to the Speeds’ bungalow. Perhaps Speed didn’t want to get into the car with Tim after what he’d just learned, and told him to walk home.’

  ‘And he did! Pretty obedient of him, don’t you think?’

  ‘Perhaps he thought he might as well face the music and get it over with. What are you drinking?’

  On this lovely summer Saturday the Dog and Pheasant was crowded with weekend drinkers. Lineham spotted a sign to a rear garden and they carried their beer and sandwiches outside. The tables under their striped umbrellas were well spaced out, affording more privacy.

  All the same, they automatically lowered their voices, leaned together like conspirators.

  ‘Well,’ said Thanet, ‘It would certainly strengthen Speed’s motive, that’s for sure. He must have been in a real turmoil, that afternoon.’

  ‘I bet he was mad
with Mrs Tarrant, for choosing Tim of all people … It wouldn’t be in the least surprising if he grabbed the first chance he had and slipped back to the house during that test drive, to give her a piece of his mind.’

  ‘And what about Mrs Speed, Mike? This would give her a much stronger motive too.’

  ‘Yes. But wait a minute. That’s a thought. Don’t you think it’s a bit odd, that Mr Speed would have chosen to have it out with Tim at home, when he knew his wife would be there?’

  ‘He probably wasn’t thinking straight. As you say, he’d just had a pretty nasty shock. The garage would have been a bit public, too, for the sort of conversation he would have had in mind. Customers could have kept walking in and interrupting them.’

  ‘True. I suppose, in the heat of the moment, he could even have forgotten his wife would be there. Or maybe he did remember, and deliberately chose to have it out with Tim at home, knowing that she’d be as outraged as he was, if for a different reason, and would back him up.’

  ‘She would certainly have been furiously angry with Nerine. First of all stealing her husband and then seducing her son … During the afternoon she must have been plucking up the courage to go and tell her what she thought of her. If you remember, she was first seen hesitating outside the gates of High Gables just after four. Obviously her nerve failed, on that occasion. But later, at about ten past five, she was actually seen going up the drive …’ Thanet drained his glass. He was eager to hear what the Speeds had to say about all this. ‘Ready, Mike?’

  The hall of Shangri-La smelled of boiled cauliflower. Mrs Speed reluctantly invited them in. She was wearing a pink nylon overall and looked hot, her plump cheeks mottled an unhealthy shade of red. She showed them into the living room and left to fetch her husband. By daylight the garish colours of the carpet, upholstery and curtains could not conceal the fact that the room was shabby and much in need of refurbishment. When she returned with Speed she had shed her overall. They were both looking apprehensive.

  As they sat down Speed pointedly consulted his watch. ‘I’ve got to be back at work in half an hour.’

  ‘We’ll try not to keep you too long.’

  Thanet had been trying to make up his mind over which tactics to employ: the shock approach or the more subtle one? Which would be most effective with these people? On the surface they appeared ordinary, inoffensive types, but Thanet had long ago discovered just how deceptive appearances can be. It is always difficult to tell how people will react in a crisis, and the situation in this house both now and last Thursday could certainly be described as that. If they were both innocent what they now needed was a period of calm in which to regain their equilibrium. Unfortunately this was just what he could not allow them. If one of them were guilty … It was the same old dilemma and he knew that once again he had no choice in the matter. He had to find out the truth, and to do so he would have to press as hard as was necessary. But, how best to do it?

  He looked at them sitting side by side on the settee staring at him, Mrs Speed perched uncomfortably on the edge, Speed even now a prey to vanity, running a hand over his balding head to check that the thinning strands were evenly spread out. It was difficult to visualise either of them pushing Nerine off that balcony, and even if one of them had, Thanet was prepared to believe that it was in the heat of the moment rather than in cold blood. But the fact remained that each of them had a classic motive for murder. Revenge and jealousy are emotions which only too easily get out of hand.

  Unfortunately, if one of them were his quarry, there was so far not a single scrap of evidence to prove it. He had to hope for a confession. If he tried the shock approach and failed, there would be nothing left to fall back on. But if he proceeded cautiously, eroding their defences bit by bit, he might in the end succeed in winkling the truth out of them.

  Thanet was not perturbed that the silence had become uncomfortably protracted. The Speeds were obviously finding it difficult to cope with and were showing signs of tension. Speed was smoking a cigarette with quick, nervous puffs, and now he stubbed it out, cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak. Mrs Speed shot him a quick glance and caught his eye. The message that passed between them was clear: wait.

  But after only another minute or two Speed couldn’t stand it. With a defiant look at his wife he burst out, ‘Well? How much longer’re we going to have to sit here like a couple of lemons?’

  ‘We were just waiting for you to begin, Mr Speed.’ Thanet’s tone was conversational, courteous.

  ‘Me, begin? Why should I begin? This is your idea, not mine.’ Speed lit another cigarette and sucked the smoke in greedily.

  ‘We thought you might have something to tell us,’ said Lineham.

  The belligerence drained out of Speed’s face and although he and his wife did not so much as glance at each other Thanet picked up their unspoken thought. Oh God, how much do they know? He had noticed it many times before, this telepathy between married couples in times of stress.

  ‘We’ve told you all we know,’ said Mrs Speed. But her attempt at firmness was a dismal failure and the statement almost became a question.

  ‘Really?’ Thanet sat back, folding his arms and looking from one to the other and back again, as if searching for something he failed to find. ‘I really don’t understand it, Sergeant, do you?’

  ‘Understand what?’ Speed was sweating now and the reek of motor oil was growing stronger as his body temperature rose, an emanation as distinctive as a fingerprint.

  Suddenly Thanet remembered: the first time he had entered Nerine Tarrant’s bedroom he had caught an elusive whiff of something incongruous. Now he realised what it was. It is notoriously difficult to recognise smells out of context and he supposed that he might be excused for not having been able to identify motor oil in all that silken, feminine elegance. Although Tim had only been working at the pump and in the office garage his clothes must have picked up the smell and left that almost undetectable imprint upon the air.

  ‘Why is it, do you think, Sergeant, that when people wish they hadn’t been in a certain place at a certain time, they seem to manage to convince themselves that they were invisible?’

  ‘Beats me, sir.’

  ‘Invisible? What do you mean? What are you talking about?’

  But they had both understood him. Thanet could read it in the flare of a nostril, an averted eye, a whitening of the knuckles.

  ‘Oh, I think you know what I mean, Mr Speed.’ Abruptly Thanet abandoned his jocular, almost benign tone and leaning forward said accusingly, ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘No!’ Speed glanced at his wife for support. ‘No, we don’t, do we, Ceel?’

  Celia Speed did not reply for a moment. She gave Thanet a level, assessing look, then said, ‘I think we’d better hear what the Inspector has to say, don’t you? I think he’s rather angry with us.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Thanet. ‘You could say that. I’m angry because this is a murder investigation and I don’t like people wasting my time. Both of you, I find, have lied to us. No,’ and he raised a hand as they both made to speak, ‘don’t say anything at the moment. Just hear me out. Now it’s always very difficult, when people do lie to us, to work out their motives in doing so. They might be innocent of the crime we are investigating and merely trying to conceal some little family secret they don’t want broadcast – no, I’m sorry, you really will have to wait until I’ve finished, you had your opportunity to speak and you didn’t take it – or, or they might be lying because they are up to their necks in the crime in question and are trying to wriggle out of being suspected. I’m not sure which it is, in your case.’

  ‘The first,’ they said together, and stopped.

  ‘But naturally, you would say that, wouldn’t you?’ said Thanet. ‘Being the lesser of two evils.’

  ‘But it’s true!’ said Speed. ‘I did explain to you, at the garage …’

  ‘Oh no, Mr Speed,’ said Lineham. ‘We’re not talking about that. This is something else.’


  ‘Something else …?’

  ‘Suppose you come right out and tell us what we are supposed to have done, Inspector,’ said Celia Speed.

  ‘No. Suppose you try to set the record straight. Suppose you tell us anything you “forgot” to tell us the first – or in the case of Mr Speed, the second – time around.’

  Mrs Speed made as if to rise. ‘Do you mind if I get a glass of water?’

  ‘Sergeant Lineham will get you one.’

  While they waited for Lineham to return Thanet said, ‘Let me just say this. If you are innocent of this crime, you have nothing to fear. Unless what you tell me is relevant to the investigation and eventually has to be used in court, I assure you that it is not going to become a matter of gossip amongst your neighbours through any indiscretion on our part. I think you understand me.’

  They exchanged glances. They do know about Tim.

  ‘But,’ Thanet went on, ‘this time I really want the whole truth and nothing but. Otherwise …’

  There was no need to spell it out. Otherwise you’ll find yourselves in deep water indeed.

  Lineham returned with a cup of water. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t find the glasses.’

  Mrs Speed took the cup with a murmur of thanks and drained it at a draught.

  ‘So who’s going to begin? Mr Speed, perhaps?’

  SIXTEEN

  ‘Let’s start from the moment you parked your car in that field, shall we, Mr Speed? And remember, we’re not just guessing at all this. We do have witnesses.’

  Mrs Speed closed her eyes tightly, as if to shut out the view of a too harsh reality, and swallowed hard. But this did not succeed in stopping the tears which now began to force themselves between her closed eyelids. With an exclamation of impatience she flicked them away with the back of her forefinger, groped in her pocket for a handkerchief and failed to find one. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘There are some tissues in the kitchen …’ And again she dashed away the tears with her finger.