Wake the Dead

by Dorothy Simpson

  Gwen stirred and opened her mouth but Thanet shot her a warning glance and she subsided again.

  Pamela looked nervously at her daughter and said defensively, ‘If she was going to be my mother-in-law I felt … Well, I suppose I felt I had the right. If she was severely incapacitated I might well have to take my turn in looking after her … I just wanted to see for myself, that’s all.’

  She glanced down at Fairleigh, who by now had apparently decided that it would be politic to make the best of the situation. He gave her an encouraging nod. ‘Perfectly understandable.’

  ‘Crazy, if you ask me,’ muttered Gwen.

  ‘I thought we agreed no interruptions,’ said Thanet.

  ‘Oh, I see! He can say whatever he likes, but I’m not allowed to say a word!’

  ‘Precisely!’ said Thanet. ‘I am interviewing your mother and Mr Fairleigh. He is entitled – indeed, I wish him to make any comments he chooses to make. But if you want to stay you will remain silent. Understood?’

  She gave a sulky nod.

  ‘Please go on, Mrs Raven.’

  ‘There’s not much more to tell. When I went into the room I thought at first she was asleep. Then I realised she wasn’t breathing, that … that she was dead.’ Pamela stopped, her face reflecting what she had felt at that moment: shock, disbelief.

  ‘Did you touch her?’

  ‘No! I just … Well, I panicked, I suppose. I went straight off to find Hugo. That was when I ran into the woman who must have told you she’d seen me, in the downstairs corridor.’

  ‘Pam came to me in the garden,’ said Hugo. ‘She was upset, naturally, and I told her I thought she ought to go home. At that point, of course, I didn’t know that there was anything … unnatural about my mother’s death, I just assumed she’d had another stroke. I hurried up to her room to check, then I remembered seeing Doctor Mallard only a few minutes before and thought I’d better get him to take a look at her, just in case there was anything to be done. One hears of these cases when one assumes someone’s dead and they’re not …’

  ‘Did you touch your mother?’

  ‘Just felt for her pulse, that’s all.’

  ‘Or anything else?’

  ‘I told you. No. On the way back in with Doctor Mallard we met my wife and told her what had happened. She came with us. Well, the rest you know, you’ve heard it all before.’

  ‘And you, Mrs Raven, left immediately after speaking to Mr Fairleigh?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Which explained why her name had not been on the list compiled at the gate.

  ‘I understand that your mother wasn’t too pleased about your proposed divorce and remarriage, Mr Fairleigh.’ This was a gamble, but a gamble worth taking. There was still no confirmation that that row had been with Fairleigh and, if it had, what it had been about. It would be interesting and possibly revealing to see his reaction.

  ‘I really don’t think that that’s any business of yours, Inspector.’

  ‘Don’t you? You and she had a row about it, didn’t you.’ It was a statement, not a question.

  Fairleigh stared at him and Thanet could see him trying to make up his mind: was Thanet guessing? Had someone overheard? Would it be best to deny it, and risk being proved a liar, or to admit it and find himself having to answer further questions?

  Pamela frowned. ‘Is that true, Hugo?’

  Fairleigh’s shoulders twitched in irritation. It was obvious that, used to getting his own way, he resented being forced into replying against his will.

  She took his silence for assent. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I didn’t want to upset you.’

  So it was true. Thanet decided to press his luck a little further. ‘It was because of that row that she had her stroke, I understand.’

  ‘Hugo!’ Pamela was on her feet, staring down at him. Either this was all news to her or she was a very good actress.

  It was too much for Gwen. She too jumped up, and confronted her mother. ‘You see?’ she shouted. ‘I told you Hugo would bring you nothing but trouble, but you wouldn’t listen! That wretched old woman! She made you suffer last time and now it’s happening all over again!’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake keep out of this!’ said Fairleigh, standing up and pushing his way between the two women.

  Gwen tried to elbow him aside. ‘Why should I?’ she shouted. ‘She’s my mother, isn’t she? Why should I just stand by and see her hurt?’

  ‘Gwen …’ said Pamela. ‘Hugo …’

  ‘That’s enough!’ said Thanet. ‘I will not have this interview reduced to a family brawl.’

  ‘Don’t worry!’ Gwen flung at him. ‘I’ve heard enough, thank you. But believe me,’ she said to Fairleigh, ‘I’ll have plenty more to say in the future!’ And she marched out, slamming the door behind her.

  They heard her run upstairs, another door slam.

  ‘See what you’ve done?’ said Fairleigh, turning on Thanet. ‘If you hadn’t allowed her to stay …’

  ‘Sit down, Mr Fairleigh,’ said Thanet quietly.

  ‘It was obviously a ridiculous idea …’

  Thanet raised his voice a little. ‘Mr Fairleigh. Sit down, please.’

  ‘It’s all your fault!’

  ‘Is it?’ said Thanet coldly. ‘I think not. And I repeat. Please sit down. Or are you going to flounce out of the room too?’

  His deliberate choice of verb achieved the desired effect. Fairleigh could not now leave without feeling that he had been made to look ridiculous. He shot a furious glance at Thanet before seating himself again.

  ‘Mrs Raven?’

  Thanet was interested to see that this time she did not return to the arm of Fairleigh’s chair but sat on the stool which Gwen had vacated.

  ‘Now,’ said Thanet. ‘I believe we’re getting somewhere. It would of course have been a great deal easier on everyone if you had both volunteered all this information instead of having to have it dragged out of you. And it does, naturally, make me wonder if there are still things you haven’t told me.’ He noted the flicker in Fairleigh’s eyes. No doubt the MP was thinking of his mother’s threat to change her will. Was this the right moment to bring that up? No, he decided, he would keep that card up his sleeve for future use. Pamela’s expression remained unchanged. Fairleigh obviously hadn’t told her about that, either.

  ‘What, for instance?’ said Fairleigh, already regaining his aplomb.

  ‘You tell me,’ said Thanet.

  Fairleigh shook his head. ‘No, there’s nothing else. It should give you great satisfaction, Thanet, to know that you have succeeded in dragging, as you put it, everything out of us. You can return home knowing that your work is well and truly done.’

  ‘For the moment, perhaps. But I’m sure you understand that you are both in a somewhat difficult situation.’

  ‘Oh come, Inspector! You are surely not suggesting that I killed my own mother just because she was against my proposed remarriage!’

  Thanet rose. ‘Your suggestion, not mine, Mr Fairleigh. But murder has been done for much less.’ And for much, much less than half a million pounds. ‘I would ask that neither of you makes plans to go away in the immediate future.’

  Fairleigh jumped up. ‘But that’s ridiculous! My work takes me all over the place.’

  ‘I see no reason why your work should not continue as normal, provided that you notify us of your whereabouts – and provided that you don’t leave the country, of course.’

  For once Fairleigh was speechless.

  SEVENTEEN

  ‘Luke, what on earth are you doing?’

  Thanet was on his knees in the hall, surrounded by piles of newspapers. When he arrived home he had been disappointed to find that Joan was out. He’d forgotten that it was the second Monday in the month, Victim Support Group night. He’d eaten the supper which she had left for him and then dived into the cupboard under the stairs, where they kept discarded newspapers until the Scouts collected them for charity.
r />   He sat back on his heels. ‘You remember that article in one of the Sunday supplements? On famous dyslexics?’

  ‘Yes. Why?’

  ‘It’s Richard, Mike’s son. They’ve been having a lot of problems with him. Louise took him to see a child psychologist today, and he’s been diagnosed as dyslexic.’

  ‘Oh, no. What a shame. He’s such a bright lad.’

  ‘I know. Mike’s feeling pretty low about it, as you can imagine. I tried to cheer him up, but I don’t really know enough about it to be of any help. Anyway, I remembered that article and thought I’d try and look it out.’

  ‘It was some time ago, I think. I’m afraid it’ll have gone.’

  ‘Looks like it. I’ve nearly finished going through these.’

  Joan was feeling the soil in the pot of Alexander’s hydrangea. ‘This is a bit dry. I must remember to water it in the morning. I’ll make some coffee. Or would you prefer tea?’

  ‘Tea, please. I won’t be long.’

  But the magazine was not there. Thanet rose stiffly, careful of his aching back, and put the newspapers away before joining Joan in the kitchen.

  ‘I remember Susan Hampshire was in it. She wrote a book about dyslexia, didn’t she?’

  ‘Yes.’ Joan frowned, thinking. ‘Let me see, who else was mentioned? There was Jackie Stewart …’

  ‘The racing driver?’

  ‘Yes. And Christopher Timothy. And Beryl Reid … Oh, and Richard Rogers, the architect. I can’t remember any more, I’m afraid. But there’s a lot of help available now, from the Dyslexic Association.’

  ‘So I gather. They gave Louise stacks of information at the clinic. Thanks.’ Thanet took the cup Joan handed to him and followed her into the sitting room. He lit his pipe and relaxed, easing his stiff back muscles into a comfortable position. They went on talking for a while about Richard and then Thanet gave Joan a brief résumé of his day’s activities.

  ‘We’re not getting very far, I’m afraid. The trouble is they were all there, in the house, at around the time of the murder. So they all had the opportunity. And the means, of course, was to hand.’

  ‘And most of them had motives, too, by the sound of it. Hugo Fairleigh and his aunt because they both knew they’d benefit under her will …’

  ‘Yes. And Hugo an even more powerful motive if the old lady was threatening to cut him out of it.’

  ‘You don’t really know that yet though, do you?’

  ‘No. But I’m pretty certain of it, judging by Bassett’s behaviour when we talked to him.’

  ‘What about the woman he’s in love with, Pamela Raven? Could she have done it, d’you think?’

  ‘Well, there again she had the means and the opportunity, and if Hugo had told her that the old lady was against the marriage … I’m pretty certain, judging by her reaction, that she didn’t know they’d actually had a row about it and certainly she was pretty shocked when she heard that it was that argument which had caused the old lady’s stroke, but even so Hugo might have told her that his mother was threatening to disinherit him … Pamela might have thought this would make Hugo call the whole thing off, and could have seen his mother as the sole obstacle to their marriage all over again. Oh, I forgot to tell you. Her daughter came to see me this morning.’

  Briefly, Thanet recounted what Gwen had told him of the subtle way old Mrs Fairleigh had gone about undermining Pamela’s confidence in her ability to cope with Hugo’s lifestyle.

  Joan frowned. ‘Nasty. And it worked, apparently. It was Pamela who broke it off, you say?’

  ‘According to Gwen. Took her mother years to get over it, she said.’

  ‘So you think Pamela might still bear a grudge?’

  Thanet shrugged. ‘I don’t know. She seems a nice woman, I liked her. But you can never tell, can you? Old wounds go deep, as we both know, we’ve seen it often enough in our work. And she did know that the old lady would be unattended, except for Grace’s half-hourly visits; Hugo told her. So she’d only have had to watch out for Grace coming back out of the house into the garden and she’d have known the coast was clear. But if she did do it, I wouldn’t think she planned it. Maybe, as she says, she just wanted to have a look at old Mrs Fairleigh out of sheer curiosity. And then, when she saw her lying there, the temptation was too great …’ Thanet shook his head, raised his hands helplessly. ‘I just don’t know,’ he repeated. ‘It even crossed my mind that they might have been in it together, but I think that’s a bit of a non-starter. I really don’t think I can see Pamela Raven sitting down and plotting it all with Hugo. And I’m pretty certain he was telling the truth when he said he had no idea she was coming to the fête.’

  ‘What about this Mrs Tanner? She sounds pretty unbalanced to me.’

  ‘I agree. And I certainly don’t think we can rule her out. She was there, on the spot, and of all the people I’ve met in the case she’s the one who is most outspoken about her hatred of the old woman.’

  ‘Isn’t that a good reason for thinking she must be innocent? I mean, if she’d done it, surely she’d keep quiet about how she felt?’

  Thanet frowned. ‘I’m not sure. She’s not very bright.’

  ‘And what about Grace Fairleigh? You haven’t mentioned her yet.’

  Thanet grinned. ‘Ah yes. Grace. Mike suggests she’s bound to have done it, on the grounds that according to the rules of detective fiction she’s the most unlikely person!’

  But Joan took the suggestion seriously. ‘Not so unlikely, surely. It sounds to me as though anyone having to put up with Isobel Fairleigh as a mother-in-law might be tempted to finish her off if the opportunity to do so presented itself. And Grace is the only person who actually admits to being there in the room around the time of the murder.’

  ‘I know. But I just can’t see it, somehow. She doesn’t seem to care enough about anything to commit murder for it. And if she’s managed to put up with the old lady all these years, why kill her now, when it’s pretty obvious she’d never be the same again, after such a severe stroke? And in any case Grace wouldn’t have had to put up with her much longer, in view of the proposed divorce. No, it just doesn’t add up.’

  Suddenly Thanet was sick of talking about the case. ‘Anyway, that’s enough about me. What about you? What have you been doing today?’

  Joan grimaced. ‘Well I’m not getting very far either. Not with Michele, anyway.’

  The battered girlfriend again, the one whose father had walked out in her teens, who was convinced that it was her bad behaviour that had driven him away and had been trying to punish herself ever since.

  ‘Ah, yes. You said her mother had died a couple of weeks ago and she’d heard from her father again. He wanted to see her and she was trying to make up her mind whether to agree.’

  ‘That’s right. Well she did. See him, I mean. Yesterday. And it’s had an absolutely devastating effect on her.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She’s discovered that it wasn’t her father’s fault the marriage broke up, it was her mother’s. He didn’t abandon them, it was her mother who more or less threw him out. When Michele asked him why, in that case, he had just walked out like that, without telling her he was going and why, he said he couldn’t bring himself to do it, he was afraid he would break down. And that he’d left her mother and her in their flat so that she, Michele, wouldn’t suffer too much from the break-up by losing her home as well as her father.’

  ‘It sounds as though he did care about her, then. But if so, why didn’t he keep in touch?’

  ‘Said he thought it was best to make a clean break, that it would be easier for her to adjust.’

  ‘So how did she take all this?’

  ‘Well that’s the point. As I say, she’s devastated. She’s spent all these years blaming herself for the break-up – and I must say, her behaviour at the time does sound pretty extreme, enough to drive any parent up the wall – and now she finds she’s been looking at the whole thing the wrong way around. She’s comple
tely disorientated.’

  ‘But she’ll adjust, surely. It’s a very positive thing, to have discovered for certain that she wasn’t to blame. As we said when we were talking about her the other day, this could be the breakthrough you were hoping for.’

  ‘True. No doubt, in time, it’s bound to be all for the good, especially if she and her father now keep in touch.’

  ‘Does he want to?’

  ‘Apparently. But the thing she’s finding so hard to deal with is her anger with her mother. She and her mother got on reasonably well. I wouldn’t say they were close, but at least her mother was always there. But now Michele simply can’t forgive her for allowing her to think all those years that her father just walked out on them. And the awful thing is, her mother’s dead, she can’t have it out with her, so this anger is going to stay unresolved.’

  ‘You can only hope she’ll come to terms with it eventually.’

  ‘I know. It would help if she didn’t spend all her time thinking about it, if she had something positive to focus on, a job for instance. But with her record of unemployment …’

  ‘What about the drinking?’

  Joan shook her head. ‘That was never a problem, really. I know she was drunk when they picked her and her boyfriend up joy-riding, but I really do think she was just unlucky there. He’s a bad influence on her. I’m sure she’d never have stolen a car on her own account and she’s not an alcoholic, never has been.’ Joan sighed. ‘If only I could get her to smarten herself up and lose some weight she’d be quite presentable. She eats to compensate, you see, and I think she feels there’s no point in dieting, no one will ever give her a job anyway.’

  Thanet had an idea. ‘Is she grossly overweight?’

  Joan’s eyebrows rose. ‘Not grossly, no. Not really. Why?’

  Thanet told her about Caroline’s coffee bar and her policy of employing no one under size sixteen. ‘She’s recruiting staff now. In fact, she actually asked us if we knew of anyone suitable.’