Come Death and High Water (George & Molly Palmer-Jones)

by Ann Cleeves

  “Charlie owned it,” John said, surprised. “He owned the island and the observatory.”

  “This place is the observatory?”

  John nodded. “ There are several around the coast, all owned by charitable bodies. We carry out a scientific study of birds, count them, ring them, and provide facilities for people to stay, and to help us. We have lots of school groups here, especially in the spring and summer. All the people staying here now are members of the observatory committee. They decide on policy. I suppose that they employ me.”

  “And Mr. Todd was a member of this committee?”

  “Yes. A very special member, because he owned the island, and besides my wife and myself he was the only resident. He lived in that wooden chalet down the island.”

  “Did he live here all the time?”

  “No. Sometimes he would stay for months at a time and we would see a lot of him, then he would disappear. He always came back for the committee weekend though.”

  “That was this weekend?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me exactly what happened, from the minute you picked up the party on the shore on Friday evening … Just a minute, Mr. Todd was with them?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long had he been away from the island?”

  “A week. I gave him a lift off last Saturday.”

  “Right. Carry on then.”

  John described meeting the party on the mainland and Savage let him talk uninterrupted until he reached the point in the narrative when he left the table in the middle of the evening meal.

  “Why?” he asked sharply. “Why did you walk out like that?”

  All the policeman’s questions came immediately, aggressively. John was given no time for thought.

  “I’ve tried to explain. I was very upset. If Charlie sold the island, it would mean that I would lose my job and my home.”

  “A bit melodramatic, wasn’t it, walking out like that?”

  John’s voice rose in anger.

  “Elizabeth is expecting our child,” he said. “I was worried about the future. Our future.”

  “I suppose that you’ll be in the same position now though, won’t you? The island will still be sold.”

  “I suppose so,” said John, then immediately regretted the easy, defensive answer. The policeman was bound to find out about the will. He might even know about it now. He looked up at Savage.

  “That’s not quite true,” he said. “ I hope that we’ll be able to stay now. Charlie left the island to the Observatory Trust in his will.”

  Savage raised his eyes but made no comment. “ Go on,” he said.

  John explained that he had been for a walk on the island, that some time later Elizabeth had come to meet him, then described the fire at the Wendy House.

  “How do you think the fire was started?”

  “I don’t know. Charlie thought that the tilly was knocked over by the cat, but it seemed unlikely even then. The tilly’s so heavy.”

  “You say that it was standing by an open window. Could somebody have reached in through the window and pushed over the lamp?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “You suppose so. What does that mean?”

  “Yes, someone could have pushed over the lamp.”

  “Did you see anyone while you were out on the hill, being worried?”

  “I didn’t see anyone, but I heard somebody walking down the track.”

  “Towards Mr. Todd’s residence?”

  “Yes.”

  “When was that?”

  “I’m not very sure. Perhaps three-quarters of an hour before the fire.”

  “Did you hear them return?”

  “No.”

  “Who was it?”

  “I told you. I couldn’t see.”

  He did not know why he lied. Perhaps it was an attempt to maintain some independence in the presence of this dominant man. So powerful did Savage seem that John almost expected him to detect the untruth, but the Superintendent continued:

  “Now. Go through the events of this morning.”

  His memory sharpened by the detailed questioning, by the intense concentration of the man who sat opposite, John relived for Savage the phone call from the coastguard, the tedium of helping. Elizabeth in the kitchen, the conversation at breakfast.

  “So while you were at breakfast you learned that Mr. Packham had arranged to meet Mr. Todd in the seawatching hide.”

  “Elizabeth told me. They had fixed it up at supper, after I’d left.”

  “Was everyone aware that this arrangement had been made?”

  “I don’t know. Certainly Nick and Mark were aware of it. That’s why they didn’t go into the seawatching hide. Charlie and Jerry worked together. Jerry did the drawings for Charlie’s books. The boys didn’t want to intrude.”

  “Do you know why Mr. Packham did not keep his appointment with Mr. Todd?”

  “No.”

  But the answer was not as definite as the others had been. Savage stopped the relentless questions, paused, then asked: “Are you sure?”

  This time John was unable to he. “Well, Jerry and Pam Marshall are known to be … friendly. They always sleep in adjacent single rooms when they’re here.” He allowed himself one of Mark’s schoolboy grins to cover his awkwardness. “I thought perhaps he’d had a tiring night and had overslept.”

  “Who else had been outside before breakfast?”

  “Nick and Mark had been doing a seawatch from the cliffs. Miss Carson had been out. She was looking very wet and bedraggled.”

  “What would she have been doing outside?”

  “Going for a walk, I expect.”

  “In that weather? She must be nearly seventy.”

  “Miss Carson always takes a walk before breakfast when she’s staying at the observatory. She wouldn’t alter her routine for a hurricane.”

  “Anyone else?”

  John hesitated and Savage repeated: “Anyone else?”

  “Elizabeth went out for a while while I was helping her to cook the breakfast. As I told you, she’s pregnant. She was feeling sick. She was only gone for ten minutes, and the hide was already cut off from the island then. She told me when she came in.”

  “Do you know what the other residents were doing while you were preparing breakfast?”

  “No.”

  “We’ll move on now to the time after breakfast. You and your two friends went to the sea watching hide together?”

  “Yes.”

  “What were the other residents doing?”

  “I don’t know. We went as soon as we had finished the meal.”

  “When you got there, the door was unlocked?”

  “Yes. I was surprised. It’s become a habit for us to keep it locked. In the summer we get a lot of trippers on the island. They’re not supposed to go to the north end, but they do, and once some kids tried to camp in it.”

  “How many keys are there?”

  “Two. Charlie had one and the observatory the other.”

  “We found the key to fit the hide padlock in Mr. Todd’s pocket. Where was the other kept?”

  “It was kept in the bird room, so that anyone could get it when they wanted.”

  “Did you notice if it was missing this morning?”

  “I didn’t come in here this morning, except to get the key. That was immediately after breakfast. It was here then. But if Charlie was in the hide, he would have left the door open. It’s impossible to lock from inside. Anyone could have got in then.”

  “So they could, but it’s a possibility that the murderer was there first. I understand that you can identify the nylon rope used to strangle Mr. Todd?”

  “Yes. It’s a mist-net guy. A mist net is a fine net used for trapping birds. It has shelves in it, where the birds are caught. The poles are held steady by guys. Nick told me last night that one of the guys was missing. Most observatories store the guys separately but it’s a tradition here to keep them in the mist-net bag.”r />
  “How did he know that the guy was missing?”

  “He and Mark went out last night, ringing waders. One of the nets had been messily replaced in its bag, and the guy wasn’t there.”

  “When was that particular net last used?”

  “Goodness knows. It could have been weeks ago. We don’t do a lot of mist netting, and we’ve several nets.”

  Superintendent Savage smiled, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room changed. Both men relaxed. The policeman’s attention was no longer focused solely and intensely on John. John felt exhausted, as if he had completed an important exam. It had been a peculiar experience, exhilarating, almost flattering to sustain the attention of another person for such a long period.

  “Thank you,” the superintendent said, standing up, holding out his hand. “Thank you. I hope that everyone is as helpful.”

  Connibear was surprised when Savage asked him to fetch George Palmer-Jones.

  “But sir, he wasn’t here. We saw him walking over when we were driving across.”

  “I know what I’m doing, lad. Ask him to come in please. And be polite about it, will you?”

  Connibear was polite, and if Palmer-Jones was surprised that he was the next to be interviewed, he did not show it.

  When the two men entered the bird room Savage stood up quickly, formally.

  “Good morning, Mr. Palmer-Jones,” he said. “ Very pleased to meet you again, sir.”

  Palmer-Jones looked at the face. Before his retirement, when he was working for the Home Office, he had met many policemen. The younger man was staring across the desk at him, willing him to remember. Then it came back to him. There had been an important corruption case in the north-west and he had been sent as observer, with no official status, just the requirement that he should report back to the minister. A young detective constable had come to him with information about one of the senior officers conducting the investigation. He remembered the meeting in one of the big, shabbily ornate pubs in Liverpool. It had been very smoky, the light had been poor, and in one corner an old lady sat drinking Guinness, singing. He remembered the policeman’s dark, angry eyes, and his resentment that no one within the organization had been prepared to listen. “It’s a bloody cover-up,” he had said over and over again. “A bloody cover-up.” Palmer-Jones had been able to use the information without implicating the constable. He understood that there had been changes in the Merseyside force after the inquiry which followed. At last the name and the face coincided.

  “Superintendent Savage,” he said. “ Congratulations on your promotion.”

  “Thank you, sir. It would never have happened without your help.”

  “How can I help you, Superintendent? I wasn’t here, you know, when the offence was committed.”

  “I know that, sir.”

  “I don’t expect to be consulted, or to be given any special consideration. I have retired. I won’t interfere.”

  “It’s not a question of interference, sir. It’s a question of helping the police with their inquiries.”

  “I don’t quite understand.”

  “Well sir, you are in a special position here. You know all the suspects. You share their interest and you’ve got their trust. I’m sure that they will confide in you, in a way they never would in Connibear or myself. And I’m sure that you would never put personal considerations before the pursuit of justice.”

  George’s immediate reaction was anger. What right had the little man behind the desk to talk in clichés about justice? His tone, however, was mild.

  “I hope that you’re not asking me to spy on my friends, Superintendent.”

  Savage took the question seriously. “Not that, sir. No. But if you were to be told something which might help, I’d be grateful if you’d pass it on. Murder’s not a matter of etiquette. You know that as well as I do.”

  Do I? thought George suddenly. Do I really care who murdered Charlie Todd? And realized that it did matter, very much. He recognized with some distaste the old relief that something out of the ordinary had happened; at least for a few days he would not be bored. And he recognized the old arrogance: If anyone can sort the matter out, I can. They need me.

  “I won’t do it secretly,” he said. “ I won’t pretend that I’m just asking questions out of interest. They’re too intelligent to believe that anyway. I will explain that because I know the set-up here, and because of my experience, you’ve asked me to keep an eye on things. And then I’ll pass on anything I learn, or anything that occurs to me.”

  “That will do very nicely, sir,” Savage said. “What’s your opinion to date?”

  George smiled. “Superintendent Savage, you overestimate my powers. I don’t know anything at all about it.”

  “I understood that Elizabeth Richards met you on the shore and explained what happened.”

  “She told me that Charlie Todd had been found murdered in the seawatching hide. She didn’t know any details. No one else has spoken to me.”

  The superintendent rewound the tape on the machine on his desk.

  “I’ve just been speaking to John Lansdown. I’d like you to listen to the interview.”

  George Palmer-Jones listened, writing occasionally on the back of an envelope with an expensive fountain pen.

  “That gives a broad outline of the matter. Did you know that Mr. Todd intended to sell the island?”

  “No, though I’m not surprised.”

  “I understand that he was somewhat … eccentric. Still, I don’t suppose that it’s relevant. It’s hardly a realistic motive for murder.”

  “Perhaps not.”

  “Except for Mr. Lansdown and his girlfriend. I presume they live together as man and wife. I wonder why they don’t get married?”

  George did not reply.

  “Do you happen to know if anyone gained financially from Mr. Todd’s death? Did he have anything else to leave?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know. He has the reputation of being a wealthy man, but I shouldn’t think that he had much left after buying the island. It would be different if he’d had a stake in the family business.”

  “So I believe.”

  The superintendent looked at his watch. “ Lunch will be at one o’clock, will it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ve time to see one more. Who do you suggest?”

  George hesitated. He was gratified, despite himself, to be given the power to shape the investigation, but disliked being put in the position of informer.

  “I was expecting you to talk to Pamela Marshall,” he said. Savage was, after all, only doing his job. “ Perhaps you don’t know. She was Charlie Todd’s niece. Perhaps she can give you more information about his financial affairs.”

  “Thank you very much, sir. That’s very convenient. Connibear, show Mr. Palmer-Jones back to the common room and ask Mrs. Marshall to come in to see me.”

  He hardly looked up. He had taken Palmer-Jones’s help quite for granted.

  She looked expensive, Savage thought, even in ordinary slacks and a hand-knitted jumper. She was in her late thirties, slim, blonde, discreetly made up. She reached out to shake his hand, and she even smelled expensive.

  “Good morning, Superintendent,” she said. “I don’t think that I can help you, but I’ll be pleased to try.” She had a pleasant, careful voice. He had expected sailing club stridency, but there was still a hint of a Devon accent. She smiled at him.

  She’s trying too hard, he thought, and asked: “ Did you go to see your uncle last night?”

  “No,” she said calmly. “ I had thought about it, before supper, but in the end I didn’t bother. Because he was my uncle I felt obliged to go to see him when I was here, to talk about the family, but we didn’t really have a lot in common.”

  “Did you go out at all yesterday evening?”

  “Just for a walk in the garden after supper.”

  “Did you see anyone?”

  “No one at all.”

  “C
ould you explain your exact relationship with Mr. Todd?”

  “My mother Dorothea was his elder sister.”

  “Did you and your family have much social contact with him?”

  “I never saw him, except when I was on the island. As I have explained we had very little in common.”

  “Do you know the terms of your uncle’s will?”

  “Only what he told all the observatory members. That he intended to leave the island to the trust. I don’t know what was to happen to the remainder of his estate.”

  “You didn’t expect to receive anything yourself?”

  “Good God no. I shouldn’t think that there was very much left, and even if there were, Charlie would be bound to leave it outside the family. He never really got on with the rest of us. He thought that we were all staid and boring.”

  “I see. Could you describe your movements this morning?”

  “Of course, Superintendent. But as I explained, I don’t think that I can be of any use to you. I woke up at 7.30, dressed and went down to the common room. I read there until the bell rang for breakfast. Afterwards, the boys went seawatching. I had planned to go with them, but they had gone before I was ready. I was just getting into my waterproofs to go out to join them when John came in. I could tell that something was wrong. I suppose I was curious. I decided to stay in. Later Elizabeth told us that Charlie was dead.”

  “Can you see anything of the island from the common room?”

  “Not really. The windows all look out to the sea and then the shore.”

  “Before breakfast, was anyone in the common room with you?”

  “Not at first. Then the doctor came down.”

  “Had he been outside?”

  She laughed unpleasantly. She’s stopped trying to attract me, he thought. She feels safe now.

  “Doctor Derbyshire doesn’t go out very often. Before breakfast it’s unheard of. He treats the observatory as a sort of social club.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “Mark and Nick came in next. They said that they’d been seawatching.”

  “What were they wearing?”

  “They’d taken off their boots and anoraks in the hall. Then I heard Elizabeth and Jasmine. The boys had left the common-room door open. They came in almost together. Elizabeth went straight into the kitchen, but I could see Jasmine through the open door. She was shaking out that big waterproof cape which she wears, then she hung it up with the other coats. She was just coming in to talk to us when the bell went for breakfast.”