She raised tear-filled eyes. Siv found the pain in her face unbearable. She tried to speak but her voice was trapped in her throat.
Ali glanced at her white face. Both women looked agonized. He fiddled with his shirt cuff for a moment and then spoke softly. ‘Mrs Stenning, do you have a car in your garage?’
She wiped a tear from her cheek, focused on him slowly. ‘I’m sorry, I hate crying. Yes, I have a car.’
‘Do you mind if I take a look at it?’
‘Ahm . . . no, of course not. The garage is open. The door catches a bit. You have to slam it hard when you close it.’
Ali left the room. Siv recovered, embarrassed that he’d spotted her distress but glad of his intervention. She watched him go past the front window and down the steps. Julia watched him too. Siv believed this woman’s grief but not her evasions. ‘Mrs Stenning, what was the connection between Sophie and Lauren?’
But Julia had had time to recover as well. ‘I don’t know. I just don’t know. There isn’t one. How could there be?’
‘Yet they both died from scissor wounds, and Sophie’s photo was at the scene.’
Julia shook her head.
‘Did you put a card through Lauren’s door that had a scissor shape pasted on it and a threatening message?’
‘Of course not! Why on earth would I do such a thing? I didn’t know her, just of her!’
‘Do you have family members or friends who would have a photo of Sophie or have access to one?’
The question obviously threw her and she stammered, ‘I . . . I don’t think so.’
‘Where was that photo taken?’
‘In the back garden in Ashford. James took it. It was his favourite photo of Sophie. He claimed he treasured it. He always had a framed copy on his bedside cabinet.’
There was something dark surging in her voice as she said that. She’d taken a tissue from her pocket and was pressing it to her lips. Within seconds her expression had shifted from misery to a set, hard look. Siv heard the garage door clang shut. Julia glanced towards the window, half rising from her chair. An ear-shattering noise suddenly filled the air, making Siv jump.
‘Smoke alarm!’ Julia Stenning dashed through the door and was gone towards the kitchen.
Siv went after her, the insistent bleeping reverberating. The dense smoke filling the kitchen stung her eyes and confused her for a moment. The smoke billowed from a pan on the cooker, the gas flame burning full beneath it. She flicked the knob on the cooker and then saw that the back door was wide open. Julia Stenning had gone. Siv ran out and saw her jumping the low wall at the bottom of the garden and racing across the field at the back of the cottages. She took off after her. The grass in the field was short, cropped by sheep that were now panicking and scattering, bleating harshly to their lambs. Their droppings were everywhere, small pellets covering the ground that was dry and hard from days of heat. She saw Julia slow at the edge of the field by a barred gate, and caught her breath. The hot air shimmered around Julia, catching the glowing highlights in her hair. She raised an arm, there was a flash in the sunlight and she fell to the ground.
As Siv reached her she saw what Julia had done, saw the rush of blood. She threw herself to her knees beside her, wrenched her jacket off and pressed it to the pumping wound on the side of her neck. She could hear Ali thudding up behind her, hear his Ach, God, no! He fumbled for his phone and called an ambulance.
The blood was soaking through the jacket, onto her hands. She pressed harder to try to stem the flow. The woman below her was white and silent.
The long, sharp scissors she had used lay inches away, their gleam dulled by blood.
Chapter Twenty-six
Julia Stenning was conscious but not yet well enough to speak to them. Ali brought Patrick up to speed while the guv spoke to Betty Marshall.
‘Julia Stenning was quick thinking. After we arrived she must have put the saucepan over the full flame when she said she was going to the kitchen to turn off the oven. She’d dropped butter in the saucepan. The smoke was bitter. I suppose she left the scissors ready by the back door.’
‘We still don’t know if she killed them, then.’
‘Her car tyres are all Dunlop and the front left looked fine to me. That’s all we’ve got until we search the house and forensics check the car and look at the scissors. The guv couldn’t get any link to Lauren from her.’
‘Why would she try to top herself though, and using the same method? It has to have been her or she wouldn’t have run.’
‘I dunno. The guv was soaked in blood. It was a grim one. Mortimer called her in. I reckon she got a roasting, judging by her face afterwards. It’s not good when a suspect tries to top herself while you’re interviewing her.’
‘You could hardly have seen that coming,’ Patrick said.
‘No. But it doesn’t work like that, does it? I hope the guv stood up for herself.’
‘I reckon she would’ve. She’s no pushover, and she hasn’t exactly been slacking since she walked through the door. I bet she stood her ground.’
‘Hope so, but you know what a wee bastard Mortimer can be when he feels like it.’
* * *
Betty Marshall was sobbing. Siv had given her a cup of tea and a box of tissues and was waiting until she gained control. Siv could still taste smoke. It would be a while before she ate butter. Mortimer had been curt and sarcastic, saying that what had happened was very bad publicity.
‘Makes us look incompetent, DI Drummond.’
She wanted to say that she could see it wouldn’t play well on Twitter. ‘I don’t see why, sir. We could hardly have suspected what Julia Stenning was planning.’
‘She gave no indication at all?’
‘None.’
‘So did she carry out these killings?’
‘I don’t know. We didn’t get that far, but once we can question her I hope to find out more.’
He’d scratched his face. ‘Don’t let the doctors pussyfoot around over that. You know what they’re like, wanting to protect their patients.’
‘I do, yes. I’m okay, by the way and so is Sergeant Carlin. I’ve washed off the blood but my suit won’t survive.’
‘Oh . . . yes. Good. Of course, I’m relieved that neither of you sustained any injury.’
Thanks for the concern, she’d muttered, closing his door a tad too forcefully. Now she focused on Betty, who had a pile of soggy tissues in front of her but was calming down.
‘Drink some tea, Betty. The best thing you can do to help your friend now is tell me about her. We haven’t been able to find any next of kin and I need to know what you can tell me. How long have you known Julia?’
Betty swallowed hot tea and crumpled another tissue in her hand. ‘Not that long. We met in that café at the beach — Horizon — early last year. We just got chatting. It was a chilly day and we were the only people in there. I asked Julia if she’d finished with the paper. We hit it off straight away, ended up sitting for hours over coffee and cake. We exchanged numbers and we’ve seen each other pretty much every week since, and talked on the phone in between. It was lovely to find a new friend like that, and we’re both single so we could meet when we liked. Julia filled a real gap in my life, I can tell you. I don’t understand why she’d do a thing like that. Try to take her own life. She never seemed that way inclined at all. The glass was always half full with her. When can I see her?’
‘I don’t know. That will be up to the hospital staff. She’s no longer critical but she’s still in intensive care. Did you know that Julia had a daughter who died?’
Betty’s mouth dropped. ‘No! When was that?’
‘In 1993. There was a terrible accident at their home in Ashford. Sophie, the little girl, died. She was three.’
‘But . . . no, that can’t be right! Really, it can’t! You must have made a terrible mistake.’
‘It’s true. Julia confirmed it to me. Why do you find it so hard to believe?’
‘Becau
se . . . because I told Julia that I had a little girl who died. My daughter, Erica, died of a brain tumour when she was almost four. Julia was so kind when I talked about it. I told her that day when we first met in the café. Minster Beach always reminds me of Erica because we took her there all the time and it would have been her birthday the following week. Her twenty-seventh. I was feeling sad. I didn’t even realize how sad until I started talking about her. I was tearful and Julia put her arm around me. That was such a comfort. I explained to Julia that we couldn’t have any more children, and then my husband Terry left me for someone else and started a family with her.’ She sniffed and cleared her throat. ‘Surely Julia would have told me if that had happened to her as well? It would be a natural thing, wouldn’t it, because we had that in common? She gave me the impression that she’d never had children. I just don’t understand. Why didn’t she tell me?’ She looked up beseechingly.
‘I don’t know. Betty, the photo of the little girl I showed you when we talked at the nursery — that was Sophie Stenning, Julia’s daughter.’
Betty sat, muddling her way through this news. ‘But you found that photo at the murders, didn’t you?’
‘That’s right. I showed it to Julia when I first met her. She denied knowing the child.’
Betty shook her head and took another tissue. ‘I just can’t understand any of this. It doesn’t make sense at all. Why would Julia have said she didn’t know her own child?’
Siv looked at her blotched face and was moved by her distress. She’d have much more to come if Siv’s suspicions proved correct. She thought that Betty had been the lonelier of the two women and the more trusting, needy friend. That might dawn on her at some point. Then she would feel hurt and foolish. ‘You haven’t known Julia that long, despite the warmth of your friendship. Maybe she had her reasons for not wanting to talk about Sophie.’
‘I suppose. I don’t know what to think. Julia’s my closest friend these days, someone I can rely on. I wish she could have told me about her little girl. I hope she will when I get a chance to see her.’
Siv regretted having to push the knife deeper but it was necessary. ‘Did you know that Julia moved from Ashford to Aldmarsh with her husband about eighteen years ago?’
Betty gave a dull shake of her head.
‘Has Julia ever talked to you about her husband?’
‘A bit. She told me he died suddenly of a heart attack and she’d had to learn to cope without him. That was about all, really. He worked in finance, something like that. I got the impression she was okay for money but not as okay as she thought she was going to be. She did say there were a few muddles to work through after he died.’
‘Did it sound like a happy marriage?’
‘Yes, I’d say so. Julia said she missed him. She is going to be all right, isn’t she?’
‘It looks that way.’ Depends what you mean by all right. ‘Julia has never mentioned any other family to you?’
‘No. She came from somewhere in the Midlands, but she said it was a while since she’d been back there. I got the impression there was no one else anywhere near. Gosh, it’s warm in here.’ Betty took a tissue and patted her face and neck.
The mid-afternoon sun shone full beam on the window and the small fan in the corner wasn’t having much effect on the climbing temperature. ‘I’ve opened the window as far as it will go. I won’t be much longer.’ Siv waited. She wanted Betty to concentrate on the next questions. ‘Has Julia ever discussed Lauren Visser with you?’
‘Lauren? We . . . we talked about Lauren now and again. I’d helped her with her nursery qualification so I told Julia a bit about that, and of course about our work in Minstergreen. Julia thought she might join at one point but then she decided she was already too busy with her other commitments.’
‘And your suspicion that Lauren might have been having an affair — did you mention that to Julia?’
Betty bit her lip. ‘Yes, just the once. Julia’s the kind of friend you can confide in, share a burden with.’
‘What was Julia’s take on that?’
‘She said that I needed to be careful because I had no proof. She thought that if it was true, it showed that some people didn’t know when they were well off. Like me, she disapproved of affairs and nonsense that broke up marriages.’
‘Did Julia mention to you that Lauren had visited Polska and put up a poster there about a campaign she was crowdfunding for?’
‘I don’t think so, no. What campaign?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Would you have mentioned Lauren’s swimming to Julia?’
‘I might have done, yes. Just in passing. I don’t understand these questions. Julia didn’t know Lauren. Why are you asking about her and Lauren?’
‘I’m trying to build up a picture of Julia, I want to understand why she panicked and harmed herself when I was about to speak to her.’ Siv was going through a timeline in her head and thought she already understood some of it. Now it was a matter of evidence and details.
* * *
Ali was waiting for her at her office when she’d finished with Betty.
‘Guv, Steve Wooton says they’ve finished the search of Julia Stenning’s house. No evidence of anything to connect her to our deaths. Her front car tyre is a Dunlop. By the look of it, she hasn’t had it replaced recently. The scissors she stuck in herself have slimmer blades than the ones used on the Lock Lane victims. But they did find this in her filing cabinet, and Steve dropped it in. It’s written by the dead husband and it’s quite a read.’
He handed Siv a typed, undated letter. She waved him to a seat and read:
Dear Julia,
This is a coward’s letter and I’ve agonized over whether or not to write it. I’ve done you a terrible injustice and I can’t face you and tell you. If I die before you, you should know about what I did. When you’ve read this, no doubt you’ll think badly of me and maybe you won’t mourn me. Well, I expect that’s what I deserve. There are things I need to explain.
I have a daughter, Lauren Visser. She’s married and lives in Berminster. She was born a while after Sophie died. I have no excuses. I met her mother, Sue, when I called at the garage where she was working. I didn’t intend to deceive you. I was grieving and a mess and we were cold to each other. I only saw Sue a couple of times before I ended our affair. I didn’t know she was pregnant. Sue contacted me years after Lauren was born to tell me about her. She’d had an attack of conscience, I suppose, and a friend who worked in health had told her she should find out what she could about my family and medical history, for Lauren’s sake. She only allowed me to see Lauren once and I agreed because I felt so guilty and agonized. I knew I didn’t deserve to get a second chance at being a father. I’ve never seen either of them since.
I wanted to tell you but how could I after all the pain we’d gone through? Sue didn’t want to accept anything from me but I have given her money towards our daughter over the years. I thought it was only fair and I hope you think that too. I gave her a lump sum when Lauren was eighteen, as that seemed right, and Lauren might have needed it for higher education or other hurdles or opportunities life might bring. I’m glad I did, as I saw that Sue died a couple of years ago and that Lauren had then married.
You’ll know by now that I changed my will without your knowledge and that will have made you angry. I’m sorry that I’ve left you rather less than you expected but you have the house. I know I promised you that I’d leave money to Frankie but in the end, I had to reconsider as my expenses over the years regarding Lauren had had quite an impact. I couldn’t tell you because then I’d have had to reveal the whole truth and as I started by admitting, I’m a coward.
I didn’t set out to hurt you. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect our little girl as I should have done. If it’s any comfort to you, I haven’t had a day’s peace since she died, and knowing that Lauren was in the world was extremely painful as well as joyous. Maybe you will find it in your heart to forgive me.
&nbs
p; I’m so sorry. James.
Siv looked at Ali, puffing her cheeks out. ‘Dynamite. Julia must have been shattered when she found this.’
‘He was such a coward, wasn’t he?’ Ali said. ‘Farewell wifey and by the way, there’s a wee girl you need to know about that I’ve spent our money on, on the q.t. He’d have done better to hold his tongue.’
‘Confession’s a powerful urge, especially if you’re not going to be around to suffer the consequences. That was his fishing gear on the rug in the photo I found in Sue Farthing’s album. The one time he was allowed to meet his daughter. No doubt fishing was his alibi for being out for the day.’
Ali took some mints from his pocket and offered her one. It was silky on her tongue.
‘Are you supposed to eat these?’
He looked furtive. ‘One or two’s okay, as long as I ration them.’
She couldn’t imagine Ali rationing anything successfully. It wasn’t in his expansive, addictive nature. She knew from Ed that it was hard work, helping your body against a daily battle. They sat in silence for a few moments. Siv realized that someone in the outer office was staring at her blankly while he talked on the phone.
‘Pull those bloody blinds shut, will you?’ she said to Ali. ‘I feel like a sex worker in Amsterdam displaying my goods.’
He gave an embarrassed laugh, reached behind him and turned the rod. ‘Who’s Frankie when he’s at home?’ he asked.
‘Or maybe she. It can be a female diminutive. Julia could tell us if she wanted but I’m not hanging around until she’s well enough.’ She related what Betty Marshall had told her. ‘I wonder whether Julia didn’t tell Betty about her dead daughter because she was already thinking of killing Lauren and didn’t want to divulge anything too personal. Certainly, she got information about Lauren from Betty. Maybe she engineered the meeting and the friendship.’
These Little Lies Page 26