by Ted Tayler
“Blessing visited her parents, and her father dropped a bombshell. He’s started the ball rolling on an arranged marriage. Her father is strong on tradition, and Blessing is reluctant to go against his wishes. We can’t afford to lose her, guv.”
“I can’t see Blessing agreeing to go along with that arrangement,” said Gus.
“She’s hoping her mother can persuade her father that whoever Blessing marries, it will be her decision. Is there anything you can do?”
“It’s not for me to come between father and daughter,” said Gus. “An arranged marriage differs from a forced marriage. That’s been illegal in this country for four years. Her father can’t force Blessing to marry against her will. Let’s hope common sense prevails, and Kelechi allows his daughter to marry for love whenever she finds the right partner.”
Lydia stood by her Mini and waved her car keys.
“Come on, guv,” she said. “You know it makes sense.”
Gus lowered himself into the bucket seat, buckled up, and hung on for grim death.
Gus had been a passenger in this Mini before and knew what to expect.
A few minutes ahead of her forecasted arrival, Lydia turned onto The Avenue and then drove onto Oakley Road. The estate had a mix of three, four and five-bedroomed properties. Gus wondered what possessed planners to accept so much variety in extensions and conversions.
Back in the Sixties, Pete Seeger had sung of ‘little boxes’ that all turned out the same. Here Gus spotted properties that started life with the same floor space, but one owner had extended the front room on the ground floor to align with the covered porch. The porch was left open next door, as it had been originally, and a two-storey side extension had sprouted instead. The entire street was a mish-mash, where no two properties were alike.
“Wouldn’t it have been cheaper to move?” said Gus out loud.
“For Theo Reeves, do you mean, guv?” asked Lydia.
“Don’t mind me,” said Gus. “I’m a dinosaur.”
Lydia didn’t know what Gus was on about, but she had spotted Theo Reeves's property where he’d lived with Marion and the two kids.
“Here we are, guv,” she said. “Still only five to ten.”
Gus guessed that the eighty thousand pounds Theo and Marion Reeves had set out to spend in 2011 concentrated on the interior. From the outside, it looked like a standard four-bedroomed detached property with a double garage. Until they got inside, he wouldn’t know whether Theo Reeves had extended the property at the rear or added an en suite bathroom with gold taps to the master bedroom.
Lydia rang the bell. Gus saw the net curtains twitch on the next-door property.
A tall, smart-looking gentleman wearing a white shirt and black trousers answered the door. His black leather shoes didn’t bear a hint of a mark. His silver hair was cut short, with a side parting. Gus wondered whether the word elegant was the correct one to use for a sixty-five-year-old retired graphic designer.
“Theo Reeves?” asked Lydia. “We’re from Wiltshire Police. You were expecting us.”
“Of course, come in,” said Theo Reeves, standing back from the door and pointing to the first door off the hallway. “Please, go through to the lounge.”
The furniture and decor looked in good order. Gus wondered how much this room had changed in the past seven years, if at all. Gus spotted two photographs on the mantlepiece above the faux fireplace. One was of Theo and Marion, which looked to have been taken soon after they married. Perhaps it was a honeymoon photograph. The other showed an attractive young woman with long dark hair taken more recently, who Gus assumed was Stephanie Reeves.
There was no sign of Martyn Street.
“Your colleague informed me that this meeting concerned Marion’s murder,” said Theo Reeves. He sat forward in a chair near the fireplace. Gus and Lydia sat at opposite ends of a four-seater sofa against the interior wall.
“That’s correct,” said Lydia. “I’d like to introduce my boss, Mr Freeman. He’s a consultant with Wiltshire Police. Our Crime Review Team has handled a series of unsolved cases this year with considerable success. The detectives on the original investigation didn't bring your wife’s killer to justice, despite their best efforts. We intend to take a fresh look at the evidence and enable our colleagues at London Road, Devizes, to bring the guilty party before the courts.”
“I see,” said Theo Reeves. “I cannot see how you could do that since none of the evidence has changed. How would you find fresh evidence after so many years?”
“We intend to interview some of the same people DI Wightman and DS Price spoke to back in 2011,” said Gus. “However, as that didn’t produce a positive result, it’s clear to me they didn’t identify the right people to speak to and possibly asked the wrong questions of those they did.”
Theo Reeves didn’t look convinced. Gus knew how he felt. Gus was feeling his way, trying to gauge the man sat opposite him. It could take time to learn whether he had something to hide.
“How did you and Marion meet?” asked Gus.
“The same way most couples met thirty years ago, Mr Freeman,” replied Theo. “There was no online dating in our day. I was in Salisbury for a concert at the City Hall, and afterwards, we visited a nearby pub for a last drink before going home.”
“You went to the concert with someone?” asked Lydia.
“A group of friends and colleagues who enjoyed comedy, drama and music,” said Theo. “I can’t remember exactly how many of us were there that night, but it was anything between six and sixteen. We didn’t always sit together, but for several years it became a habit to discuss what we’d seen over a pint in the Haunch of Venison.”
“The oldest pub in Salisbury,” said Gus.
“You know it?” asked Theo.
“I was a copper on the beat before I became a detective,” said Gus. “I spent almost forty years in the city.”
“Then you know they served a good pint in the old days,” said Theo. “I haven’t been in there in years. No doubt it’s gentrified and attracts a different crowd. They’re far more reliant on food these days, aren’t they?”
“Everywhere has changed, Mr Reeves,” said Gus. “Was Marion Street with one of your group that night?”
“Not at all,” said Theo. “The bar was always crowded on a Saturday night. I fought my way to the bar to buy a drink and spotted Marion standing alone at the far end. It was hard to miss her. Marion was by far the prettiest girl in the place that night. She was out of my league, so I was fully prepared to fight my way back through the crowds with my drink to rejoin my friends. While I waited for the barmaid to pull my pint, I looked up and realised Marion was staring at me.”
“Had you ever seen Marion before?” asked Lydia.
“I may have done,” said Theo. “Salisbury had forty thousand residents in those days. When you’re single, as I was, you often bumped into the same groups of people doing the rounds of the pubs, restaurants, and shops in the centre, day or night. They were faces you recognised without ever knowing who they were. You know what I mean, I’m sure.”
“What happened next?” asked Gus.
“When I got my pint, I told the people I came in with I had seen someone on the other side of the room that I wanted to see. They expected me back any minute. I took my courage in both hands and made my way over. I discovered Marion’s name. She told me she was lonely and hurting after walking out on her husband. I told her I was a good listener. That was the start of it. We married ten months later.”
“You weren’t out of her league after all,” said Gus.
“I suppose not,” said Theo.
“Was Marion still married to Graham Street when you met?” asked Gus.
“They had separated,” said Theo. “Street didn’t want to prolong the agony any more than Marion did. So, the divorce went through quickly enough. When you are as wealthy as that, it’s easier to get things moving. Money talked back in 1990. It talks even louder today.”
“W
hy did Marion walk out on her husband?” asked Lydia.
“Marion never spoke about the marriage,” said Theo. “From that first Saturday night, she insisted we didn’t dwell on the past. Marion wanted to concentrate on her future; however it turned out. I wasn’t keen to learn the details of their married life anyway, so I was happy to fall in with her wishes.”
“When did you learn Marion and Graham Street had a child?” asked Gus.
“Marion brought Martyn with her in a pushchair on our first proper date the following weekend. We met near the Cathedral and just walked and talked in the sunshine.”
“Did you both work in Salisbury?” asked Gus.
“Marion didn’t need to work while she was with Street. He had more than enough money for both of them. Marion returned to work as soon as we married, and apart from taking maternity leave when Stephanie was born, she carried on in full-time employment until the day she died.”
“Did you know Graham Street before you met Marion?” asked Gus.
“I’d seen him around,” said Theo. “We didn’t move in the same circles. He was several years older than me. That alone always puts distance between people, but several of the crowd Street went around with had both class and money. The rest, including Street, were tolerated because they had money. People such as that live in a different world, Mr Freeman. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed out of all recognition over the years.”
“There was quite an age gap between you and Marion,” said Lydia, “did that concern you?”
“Why should it?” asked Theo.
“Well,” said Lydia, “on that Saturday evening you first met, what caused Marion to stare? You were in your late thirties, handsome, and well-dressed, based on the man I see in front of me this morning. Perhaps, she hoped you were her next meal ticket?”
“I walked into the bar with other people, but I was buying my own drink,” said Theo. “A woman who was only interested in the size of my bank balance would have discounted me straightaway. No, Marion might have preferred an older man, but she knew I wasn’t as well off as Graham Street. Within a few weeks, we knew we wanted to be together. I’d been in love before, but not like that. I knew Marion was the one for me.”
“Did you have any reservations about taking on the responsibility for both mother and son?” asked Gus.
“Not at first,” said Theo. “Marion met with Street and their solicitors frequently as the divorce went through. Graham threatened to stop proceedings altogether when he learned we were keen to set a date for our wedding. Street was a swine. He persuaded Marion to accept a derisory cash settlement in return for not delaying things further. After the divorce, Street washed his hands of Martyn altogether.”
“Graham Street wasn’t interested in his only son?” asked Gus.
“He had several children, with different women, Mr Freeman. I thought you would know that.”
“We’re digging into his background as part of this fresh investigation, Mr Reeves,” said Gus. “Twenty years had passed since the divorce, and our colleagues didn’t consider Graham Street had any part in your wife’s death. Graham Street’s alibi checked out, and they looked elsewhere for her killer.”
“That’s as maybe,” said Theo Reeves, “but there was another reason he wanted to rid himself of Martyn. There was nothing wrong with the boy physically, but he struggled at school. He was a slow learner. I soon became an expert in what that term meant, Mr Freeman. His IQ score classed Martyn as having a borderline intellectual disability. Thirty years ago, students like Martyn did not qualify for special services, special education, or even an individual learning plan. Marion and I did our best, but we couldn’t bridge the gap between Martyn’s academic achievements and his peers. When Stephanie started school, my focus was on my real first child. It might have seemed cruel, but that was what happened.”
“How did Martyn’s condition affect your relationship with Marion?” asked Lydia.
“It brought us closer together if anything,” said Theo. “Marion needed my help with Martyn. She knew Street would never have lent a hand. The trick was to convince Martyn that whatever level he achieved in a subject was an enormous success. There were never recriminations because he fell way short of what Stephanie achieved on the same task a few years later.”
“Did Martyn and Stephanie get on well?” asked Lydia.
“Stephanie knew there was something amiss with her older brother when she was a toddler. Because of the way we treated Martyn, Stephanie protected him when we weren’t around.”
“When other children picked on him,” said Lydia, “and made fun of him.”
“Not while Stephanie was about they didn’t,” said Theo. “Stephanie came home with a few bruises where she had stepped in to tackle an older boy or girl who bullied her brother.”
“Did that closeness and protective nature remain throughout their childhood and teenage years?” asked Gus.
“As far as I could tell, yes,” said Theo. “Of course, when Martyn left school at sixteen, things altered somewhat. We were fortunate to find him the job at Wilton House. Martyn loved working in the open air, carrying out all manner of maintenance across the estate. His boss gave Martyn something different to do every day. Martyn found a place where he could be happy.”
“Stephanie attended the grammar school,” said Gus. “I imagine Martyn’s secondary education took place elsewhere?”
Theo Reeves nodded.
“Did you go to the school for parent’s evening events?” asked Gus.
“Once or twice,” said Theo. “More often than not, Marion went alone. We tried our best, but there was never any real improvement.”
“Where is Stephanie now?” asked Gus, nodding towards the photograph on the mantlepiece.
“The school thought it fairer for Stephanie to defer her A-levels until later in the year. She was in no state to sit them a matter of weeks after her mother’s murder. Stephanie passed her three exams with good grades, but during the long wait, before she could reapply for a university place, the fight went out of her. Before I knew it, the boot was on the other foot, and Martyn was looking out for his sister. He’d make sure she got home from the pub despite her being falling-down drunk. The anniversary of Marion’s death was a particularly challenging time.”
“When did Martyn move out?” asked Gus.
“You must remember that at the time of the murder, Martyn was already twenty-three, Mr Freeman,” said Theo Reeves. “Marion and I both hoped Stephanie would go on to university in the autumn. She would have been away from home for large parts of the next three years. Who knows where she would have gone after that? Martyn and Stephanie had never given us any reason to think there was anything between them, you know? Maybe it was all in my head. I was alone, grieving for Marion, and Stephanie was suffering a meltdown. When Martyn almost carried his drunk sister through the door one Sunday morning, I suspected he was taking an unhealthy interest.”
“Had Martyn gone out with other girls?” asked Lydia.
“Not as far as I was aware,” said Theo. “The next day, I suggested it was time he left home and found a place to live.”
“How did he react to that?” asked Lydia.
“Not well,” said Theo. “He didn’t understand. I spoke to his manager at Wilton House, and he promised to help find him somewhere closer to his work. Martyn rents a room that overlooks the woods on the edge of the estate. He has a five-minute walk to work now, instead of thirty.”
“And Stephanie?” asked Gus.
“She drifted for about a year, then met someone in Salisbury. They live in Downton. Stephanie works at a primary school as a teaching assistant. It wasn’t the career we had imagined for our daughter, but she’s happy, and the chap she lives with seems a decent sort. I don’t think Stephanie’s spoken to Martyn since the day he left home.”
“Do you suspect something happened?” asked Lydia.
“I pray it was all in my head,” said Theo. “Nothing that happened sev
en years ago ever made any sense. The nightmare has never ended.”
“What happened here after the murder?” asked Gus.
“I’m not sure I understand the question,” said Theo. “The police spent ages questioning everyone. I had a funeral to organise. Stephanie and Martyn were a mess.”
“What about MP Builders?” asked Gus. “Did they stay?”
“The builders promised they would be out of our hair by September,” said Theo, “but everything was up in the air after March the eighteenth. It was the following April before we saw the back of them. I was trying to hold on to my job because I couldn’t afford to take early retirement. Then, Stephanie’s problems blew up, and I was trying to resolve those as well as resettle Martyn. Stuart Milligan and Derek Preston pottered about finishing bits and pieces on my house in between other jobs they had taken on. I’d see them one week for two hours and then nothing for a fortnight.”
“Did they know about the money?” asked Gus.
“You mean the missing six thousand pounds? They said they hadn’t mentioned needing a part payment to Marion. I had told them at the outset that if they wanted something to assist their cash flow, to give me a shout, and I’d get the money for them. Marion had precious little left of the settlement Graham Street gave her to pay out large amounts like that.”
“Marion withdrew the cash though, Mr Reeves,” said Gus. “So, you still claim to have no idea who or what the money was for?”
“None, whatsoever, Mr Freeman,” said Theo. “In twenty years, we had had no secrets from one another. Or at least I didn’t think we did. I could never understand why Marion hadn’t come to me if there was a problem.”
“What happened to Marion’s mobile phone?” asked Gus. “The police checked her diaries for any meetings arranged for that Monday morning and found nothing. You saw her handbag after the police recovered it from the Lexus. You told the officers nothing was missing. Marion’s purse, keys, and mobile phone were still inside.”
“That’s correct,” said Theo. “The police took the handbag into evidence. I can’t recall it ever getting returned to me. Why?”