‘You think they planned Lauren’s murder together?’
‘That’s still to determine. But if he did it, where’s the car he used? I hope we don’t have to scour miles of woodland for him.’
Ali swung sharply into the car park at Halse woods. It was after five p.m. and there were just a few cars still parked and several bikes in the cycle ramp. The sky was cloudless, the sun intense. They headed for the warden’s office. Siv pushed the door open without knocking. Half a dozen people including Granger sat around the table, with Kitty Fairway at the head of it, her hand on a large map. They all looked up when Siv stepped in.
‘Sorry about the intrusion,’ Siv said. ‘I need a word with Mr Granger.’
‘Can’t it wait? I’m about to photograph an important survey for publicity,’ Granger said testily.
‘No, it can’t wait. I have important news about your family. Perhaps we can talk in the car.’
He looked nonplussed. Ali had moved near to where he was sitting.
‘It’s okay, Mason,’ Kitty said. ‘You need to go if it’s about family. We can catch up with the rest of this later.’
He muttered something and then stood, grabbing his rucksack. Ali walked behind him while Siv led the way outside.
‘What’s this about?’ Granger asked.
‘Let’s sit in the car. We don’t want to discuss private matters in public.’
He muttered again but went with them. Ali sat in the front of the car and Siv got in the back with Granger. Despite being parked in the shade, the car was warm and Ali opened the front windows. Granger was wearing a peaked cap. He pushed it back and folded his arms.
‘Well?’
‘I’d like you to come with us to the station to discuss some important matters,’ Siv told him.
‘What matters?’
‘Various. It would be better at the station.’
‘Better for whom? What’s this about? I don’t want to come to the station, thanks. Whatever it is, we can talk about it here or you can bugger off and let me get back to my work.’ He was starting to shout.
‘Oh, wind your neck in, big man. We’re not impressed with your blather,’ Ali told him.
That rendered Granger temporarily speechless, and Siv seized the chance.
‘Look, Mr Granger — or shall I call you Frankie? What we have to discuss includes what’s happened to your godmother.’
‘You what?’
‘Julia Stenning. Your godmother. She calls you Frankie, I understand. She’s in intensive care in Berminster General at the moment.’
He frowned. ‘What’s the matter with Julia?’
‘I’m afraid she tried to kill herself. With scissors.’
‘Christ. How is she?’ His shoulders twitched. It was hard to read his reactions behind the smoky lenses.
‘She’ll be okay. Seems odd that she hasn’t asked for you, given that you live nearby.’
He stayed silent, shaking his head.
‘Difficult news for you,’ Ali said. ‘Shall we head off now and talk somewhere cooler and more comfortable?’
‘What about my bike?’
‘We can arrange that for you.’
‘Just a minute. What are these “matters” you want to talk about?’
‘At the station,’ Siv said firmly. ‘I can arrest you now if you like, or you can agree to answer some questions.’
He thought about it, fiddling with the strap of his rucksack. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘Good. Now let’s enjoy the drive. Ali, put some music on — something classical and soothing.’
* * *
On the way to the interview room, Patrick called to say the plastic bag had been found at Aldmarsh, stuffed deep into the base of a tree. It had gone to forensics. Granger sat at the table with his cap still on, sipping tea. He looked relaxed. Ali took the lead. We give him nothing, no advantage, Siv had instructed.
Ali rolled up his shirtsleeves. His skin was smooth and dimpled around the elbows, his forearms covered in fine dark hair. ‘Can you confirm that you know Ms Julia Stenning and that she’s your godmother?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Tell us about your relationship with Julia and her husband,’ Ali said.
Granger shrugged. ‘It’s been more of a distant friendship, to be honest. My mum was Julia’s friend. Mum was a traditionalist, wanted a godparent for me. I can’t say it’s ever meant much to me and I’m not religious. My dad died in a car crash when I was a toddler and then Mum died when I was thirteen. I lived with my gran in Ashford after that. Julia used to send me a card and money for my birthday, that sort of thing.’
Ali nodded. ‘Do you know what happened to Sophie, Julia’s daughter?’
‘Yeah, my mum told me. I was a baby when it happened. Crap for them. Poor little kid. It was a terrible way to die. It was a bit of a taboo subject, not to be mentioned. Like don’t talk about the war.’
‘When did you move to Berminster?’
‘Couple of years ago.’
‘Why here? Was it to be nearer your godmother?’ Ali asked.
‘Not really. My gran had to go into a home. I’d visited Julia once or twice over the years and I liked the town. Wanted to be near the sea, and the rents are affordable here as well.’
‘Have you seen much of Julia?’
‘Now and then. I went to James’s — her husband’s — funeral. She’s not a relative as such so, you know. It was just the odd contact.’
‘When did you last see her?’
Granger pursed his lips. ‘Let’s think. Last year. I’d been for a cycle and I called by. Had a cuppa and a chat. She was in good form. She supports Minstergreen’s work, so we talked about that a bit.’
Siv shifted her notepad. ‘Did Julia talk to you about her husband’s betrayal?’
‘No. What betrayal?’
‘He’d had an affair and fathered a child in Berminster,’ she said. ‘He left Julia a letter that she found after his death, informing her. It came as a terrible shock.’
‘Wow! I can imagine! I’d never have thought James was the type. Seemed very straightforward, a bit boring even. I suppose you never can tell, though. Julia never mentioned it. But you know, we’re not close like that and I suppose maybe she was embarrassed. What a bastard, doing that to her!’
‘So you didn’t know about the child, or who she was?’ Siv said.
‘No.’
He was calm and confident, the answers coming easily. Siv tried looping back. ‘When I first met you, I showed you a photo of Sophie. You said you didn’t recognize her.’
‘Like I said, I was a babe in arms when she died. I don’t think I’ve even seen any photos of her.’
‘How well did you know James Stenning?’ Siv asked.
‘A bit. Never met him more than a couple of times.’
‘Yet he mentioned you in the letter he left for Julia. Said he was sorry he hadn’t left Frankie anything in his will.’
‘Oh, right. Well, I didn’t know anything about his will and I hadn’t expected him to leave me anything.’
‘It seems odd that Julia wouldn’t have mentioned that to you,’ Siv said. ‘The way the letter was written, it sounded as if they’d discussed it and she’d expected him to leave you some money. She has no close family nearby, and usually if you’ve thought of naming someone as a beneficiary in your will, it indicates some level of fondness.’
‘You’d have to ask her. Sorry, I can’t help you.’
‘So you don’t know the reason why Mr Stenning had altered his will and not left you anything?’
‘No. Shame. The money would have come in handy, but as I had no expectations I don’t know what I missed, do I?’
‘Are you named in Julia’s will?’ she asked.
He laughed, folding his arms. Nothing so far had discomfited him. ‘How would I know? It’s not the kind of thing you ask someone. At least, I wouldn’t. It would sound as if you were only interested in them for their money.’
&nb
sp; ‘But Julia might have told you,’ Siv said.
‘Well, she hasn’t, so I’ve no idea.’
‘Why do you think Julia would try to kill herself with scissors?’
‘I haven’t a clue. She isn’t the kind of person I’d expect to feel suicidal. She’s always seemed very strong and capable. Look, where is all this going? I’m not sure what you’re after with these questions. I’ve had very little to do with my godmother. I’d like to visit her, though, now that I know what’s happened.’
‘James Stenning’s child, the one Julia didn’t know about, was Lauren Visser.’
He put his lips together in a soundless whistle. ‘Oh, wow! That’s amazing. So . . . hang on, did Julia ever meet Lauren?’
Siv ignored the question and left a pause. His surprise seemed genuine. Whatever had gone on between them, the next bit of information should get a reaction. ‘Julia Stenning has confessed to murder.’
His head jerked forwards. ’What? Oh, come on. No way!’
‘It’s true. And we’ve found the evidence she told us about. She’s been arrested and charged.’
‘But . . . Julia could never harm anyone. She’s a good person. Who is she saying she’s murdered?’
‘I can’t give you that information right now,’ she said.
‘What . . . hang on, is it those recent murders? Is she saying she murdered Lauren and that guy?’
‘I can’t comment on that. Mr Granger, you lied about your last contact with Lauren Visser and you have no one to verify where you were on the morning of the twenty-ninth of April. Do you know anything about the murders of Lauren Visser and Matis Rimas?’
He held his hands up. ‘Of course I don’t! We’ve been over this. I explained why I didn’t tell you about my visit to her. If I’d wanted to murder her, I could have done it there and then, when she was home alone. Much easier than loitering around a river. I was working at home, earning a living, not killing people at Lock Lane.’
She stared at him. ‘I don’t believe you. I think you do know something.’
‘Really? What’s your evidence? If you had anything to go on apart from a distant friendship between Julia and me, you’d have arrested me. So I’m known as Frankie to some people, Julia’s my godmother and James cut me out of a will I didn’t even know about. I knew nothing about Lauren being James’s child. You can think what you like. I’m fed up with this. I’ve tried to help you and I want to go now. Any more questions, I want a solicitor.’
This was going nowhere. Siv was frustrated and tired. Granger was spot on, she didn’t have enough to arrest him. ‘I want to ask you again — do you have a car or have use of one?’
‘No. I used to drive, I had a courier job when I was a student to make ends meet, but I’ve never owned a car and I use a bike. That clear enough for you?’
‘Wait there for now, Mr Granger. I’ll let you know what’s going to happen shortly. You won’t be able to see your godmother just yet. I can pass on a message if you wish. Do you want more tea? A coffee?’
‘No. I want to go home.’
They left the room and Siv headed for the door that led to the courtyard garden. As they stepped outside into the dusk, Ali was already lighting a Gitanes. There were half a dozen lights placed around the paving, casting a silver glow. A bat swooped across, a fleeting shadow.
‘Where do we go from here?’ Ali asked.
‘We have to let him go. There’s no grounds for detaining him. We’ve found nothing in his flat and no trace of a car. He goes home and we have to talk to Julia again. She knows what happened. If they planned the first two murders between them, they must have made contact, so we focus on that. We scrutinize Julia’s mobile and landline and ask around Aldmarsh and Polska for any sightings of the two of them together. And we talk to Granger’s neighbours and the members of Minstergreen, check again if anyone’s ever seen him driving a car or saw him on that Monday morning.’
They glanced at each other in the greyish light. Siv felt drained. Look at us, one grieving, slightly crazed detective and one diabetic chain smoker with a coffee stain on his shirt. She suppressed a smile.
‘Meeting first thing in the morning. We’ll get there,’ she said with a confidence she didn’t feel.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Siv couldn’t sleep, worried by the lack of progress. She gave up at five and, as dawn broke, went for a walk by the river. The sky was streaked with red and gold. Ripples broke on the surface of the calm, clear water and a flotilla of ducks glided upriver, pausing now and then to investigate the sedge and reeds. This was the peaceful time of day, a time when Lauren might have been preparing for a swim, Matis putting his fishing gear in the boot of a borrowed car, Alan Vine walking his dog. She thought about an anxious family in Krosna, waiting to hear that the English detectives had brought their Matis’s murderer to justice.
When she’d made tea and toast, she checked her emails and saw that she’d had one from her mother.
Horrible of you not to reply to me. I don’t understand why you’re so unkind to me. I suppose your father poisoned you against me years ago. My life wasn’t easy at times, you know, and I had my own battles to fight. I have so many happy memories of when you were little and I hope you do too. Anyway, I’m so unhappy, Sivvi. I’ve been living with Ernst for a year but he’s decided to go back to his wife. I’m devastated as I really thought we were long term and I’m not getting any younger. You know that song — men grow cold as girls grow old — and I don’t even have any diamonds to comfort me. I think I’ve had enough of being in Turku. Everyone knows your business, and the people here can be terrible gossips. So I have to put my thinking cap on.
Do send some news. Love from your Mutsi.
She shook her head and ran her fingers over her scar. She missed Ed so much right now. On the rare occasions when they’d seen Mutsi, he’d acted as a protective bulwark against her. She’d been at their wedding, flirting with all the men, and had visited them twice in Greenwich. Ed was gallant with her but also steely, allowing her just so near and no further. Mutsi had flirted with him too, of course, stroking his arm and being girlish in a way that made Siv want to puke. And Ed had absorbed and deflected it all, allowing Siv to breathe. She’s a monster, he’d said after their wedding, but a sad sort of monster.
She checked the time before she rang Betty Marshall. ‘I hope this isn’t too early.’
‘No, I’m just finishing my breakfast. Any news of Julia? I rang but they said no visitors.’
She didn’t want to give the news she had over the phone, and she wanted to see if Betty could tell her anything more about her friend. ‘Could I call round and see you now, before you go to work?’
Betty lived in a small semi on a modern estate called Spinney Dale. It had a front garden planted with runner beans, peas, tomatoes and spinach. Betty saw her looking.
‘I got the idea from Lauren. I used to have flowers growing at the front but she suggested it made more sense to grow my own vegetables there as well as at the back, especially as the front faces south. She reckoned if more people did that, we’d be using less of the planet’s resources and of course, she was right. So I’m almost self-sufficient now.’
Siv thought of Lauren’s own manicured, vegetable-free garden and thought that she didn’t walk the walk. But maybe she was being unfair and Visser had laid down the law about what they planted.
She sat in Betty’s kitchen and accepted a cup of tea. There was an aroma of frying bacon and eggs. The house had a dated look, all the fixtures and fittings from thirty-odd years ago. The kitchen was done out in pine and there was a gas cooker with an overhanging grill. It was comfortable, and Siv could see spring cabbages through the back window. Washed dishes were stacked at the side of the sink. They were dark blue ceramic patterned with orange flowers. She had a memory of similar plates at a friend’s house when she was a teenager. She’d used to loiter there when she truanted from school, until her father found out and told her that if she wanted to
carry on missing her education that was her choice, but she could do it living at her mother’s. A terrifying but effective threat and the only time she had known her father be so assertive.
Betty was already dressed in her work tabard, cotton trousers and sensible shoes. ‘Tell me how Julia is.’
‘Julia’s doing okay.’
‘Why won’t they let me see her then?’
‘They can’t. I’m afraid I have some more difficult news for you. Julia’s been charged with the murder of a man called Alan Vine. She confessed to it yesterday.’
Betty had been lifting a cup to her lips but she set it down again with a clatter. ‘Murder? What on earth? Who’s Alan Vine?’
Siv explained, watching perspiration funnel down Betty’s cheeks. ‘In fact, Julia has confessed to three murders in total, including that of Lauren. Lauren was James Stenning’s daughter, the result of an affair with a woman in town. Julia didn’t find out until after her husband died. She says she murdered Lauren because she had no right to live when Sophie was dead.’
Betty reached for a gingham tea towel and held it to her face. She pulled roughly at the neck of her tabard as if she was choking and then got up and wrenched the back door open. She stood there, drinking in the air.
Siv sat, letting the cool air wash over her and sipping her tea. She glanced at her watch. ‘I’m so sorry to have to tell you this about your friend.’
‘My friend!’ Betty’s voice was faint. She sat down heavily, pushing her tea away. ‘Was she getting information from me about Lauren so that she could — you know — plan all this?’
‘I’m not sure. Some of the time maybe. Did Julia ever talk to you about a godson called Frankie?’
A slow shake of the head. ‘No. Right now I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me she had a dozen children I’d never heard of.’
These Little Lies Page 28