When Night Closes in

by Iris Gower

  ‘Be quiet!’ Sarah glared at Sally. ‘You are as guilty as she is. You slept with him, too. Don’t bother to lie, he gave his favours to anything that caught his fancy.’

  She stared down at Lowri. ‘Well, now are you happy? Now you have got what you wanted out of Jon?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Lowri was confused by the abrupt turn the conversation had taken. ‘Have you seen Jon?’

  ‘Of course not but before he vanished Jon gave you a package to look after for him, that’s what I mean, and I want it back. The contents are valuable to me.’

  ‘Valuable? Jon never gave me anything that was really valuable, like the truth.’

  ‘Don’t play games with me. Where have you hidden it?’

  ‘Hidden what?’ Lowri was growing exasperated.

  Sarah pulled open a drawer and tipped the contents onto the floor. ‘I’ll find it, if it kills me!’

  ‘Stop it this minute!’ Lowri was surprised at the fierceness of her own voice. ‘I would advise you to calm down, Mrs Brandon, before you find yourself in trouble with the police.’

  Sarah glared at her. ‘I just want what’s mine. You’ve already slept with my husband – you are not having his business too!’

  ‘I don’t want anything to do with him or his business. Now please leave.’ Lowri picked up the telephone and Sarah held up her hand.

  ‘All right, I’m leaving.’ She pushed the papers on Lowri’s desk onto the floor. ‘But I shall fight you, I shall have what is mine. Eventually.’ She left the office, slamming the door behind her. Lowri sank back into her chair.

  ‘What was all that about?’ she said.

  Sally shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me!’ She shook her head. ‘She phoned me at home last night wanting your number, and when I wouldn’t give it she threatened all sorts of things. She finally shrieked down the phone that she would be here first thing. But then she’s a nutter, isn’t she? You can’t believe a word she says.’

  Lowri picked up her bag and paused, looking directly at Sally. ‘Have you ever stayed at the Swan Hotel?’

  Sally glanced up. ‘You asked me that once before. It’s the one that’s on the cliffs overlooking the sea, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘I remember now, I did stay there once.’ Sally looked down at her hands, frowning as she saw a tiny chip in the varnish on one of her nails. ‘Dash! I’ll have to do that one again.’

  ‘Who did you go there with?’ Lowri tried to sound casual. Sally’s head was bent and it was difficult to see her expression.

  ‘With Timmy.’

  That was a lie. The description the receptionist had given Lowri was of a man, not a young lad like Timmy.

  ‘Why are you lying?’

  Sally’s head jerked up. Her eyes were wide, startled, the colour was rising in her cheeks. ‘Why should I lie?’

  ‘Look,’ Lowri said, ‘I know you were there with an older man than Timmy, a man with dark hair. Was it Jon Brandon? Tell me, Sally, I must know.’

  ‘You’re mistaken, I’ve never been there with an older man and definitely not with Jon Brandon.’

  ‘You were seen,’ Lowri persisted, ‘with a man who fitted Jon’s description. Come on, Sally, what’s going on, were you sleeping with him too? Sarah seems to think so.’

  ‘No!’ Sally said fiercely. ‘You’re crazy, Lowri. Whoever you talked to, they were wrong. All this is going to your head. Do you think you ought to see someone, a doctor or something?’

  It was quite a long speech for Sally. Lowri rubbed her eyes. Perhaps she was going mad – it certainly seemed like it at the moment. She picked up her keys.

  ‘Sod it! I’m going home,’ she said. ‘And I may never come back.’ On the way out, she almost collided with Mr Watson.

  ‘Good heavens, Lowri, what’s wrong? Not bad news about your mother, I hope?’

  ‘No, nothing like that. I came in to help Sally but I think I’ve done all I can so I’m going home. Is that all right?’

  He touched her cheek. ‘Of course it’s all right. Off you go with my blessing.’

  Lowri climbed into the Mazda, slammed the door behind her and drove as if the furies of hell were at her heels. She would go home and call Lainey, tell him that Sarah Brandon was back in town and he had better see her before she did anything foolish.

  Sergeant Brown answered the phone. ‘Detective Inspector Lainey is in a meeting,’ he said. ‘But I’ll tell him you called.’

  Lowri put down the phone. Why was it men were never around when you needed them most?

  9

  Lowri woke late the next morning. Her head ached and she had never felt less like work. She was disappointed that Lainey had not got back to her the previous day and she badly wanted to talk to him, but she was damned if she was going to call him again. She came downstairs yawning sleepily just as the thump of the mail on the mat told her the postman had arrived. Almost immediately the bell rang and, rubbing her eyes, Lowri opened the door.

  ‘One to sign for, love.’ The postman held out a pen and she signed her name. ‘Here’s your letter then, hope it’s something nice.’

  Probably not, Lowri thought grumpily. Morning was never her best time. She left the envelope in the hall and made herself coffee. Just as she sat down the phone rang.

  ‘No peace for the wicked,’ Lowri grumbled to herself. It was Sally. ‘She’s been here again, accusing you of all sorts.’

  ‘I suppose you mean Sarah Brandon?’

  ‘Of course I mean Sarah Brandon. She’s saying that Jon left you a fortune.’

  ‘How does she make that out?’

  ‘I don’t know, do I? But that detective has been here too, he wants to talk to you. I rang to warn you he’s on his way now.’

  ‘Shit!’ Lowri caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. She looked a sight with her hair, longer now, tousled around her pale morning face. Perhaps she would just have time to shower. The rapping on the door told her she was too late.

  ‘Come in,’ she said reluctantly.

  Lainey had his sergeant in tow and the two men stood in the hall, blocking out the light from the doorway.

  ‘My neighbours must be having a field day!’ Lowri said bitterly. ‘Come through into the kitchen and if either of you want a coffee there’s the tap and there’s the kettle. You must be as at home here now as I am!’

  She sat on one of the kitchen chairs and looked up at Lainey. ‘You’ve heard this stupid nonsense about Jon giving me a valuable package, I take it?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Lainey sounded distant. ‘What can you tell us about it?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing. All Jon left me with was egg on my face.’

  ‘Well, Mrs Brandon seemed sure of her facts.’

  ‘Really? I don’t think that poor lady is even sure of her own name.’ Lowri shrugged. ‘But search the place if you like. I have nothing to hide. In any case, I thought you believed Jon was still alive, so why don’t you find him and leave me alone?’

  ‘I might have been wrong,’ Lainey said. ‘Those things on the hall table, today’s letters are they?’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘Mind if I take a look?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know about that.’

  Lainey seemed not to hear her. He went into the hall and she heard him tearing open envelopes. He returned waving the letter she had signed for. ‘And here it is.’

  He leaned against the sink and read the document through. ‘According to this, you are a partner in Brandon’s latest business venture, a company called Software International. Have you got a computer here, Miss Richards?’

  She shook her head. ‘Never heard of the company and no, I don’t have a home computer.’

  ‘There must be records of Software International’s financial transactions somewhere. Have you got them?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Come on, I think you know more about Jon Brandon’s disappearance than you are telling us.’

  ‘Rubbish!’


  ‘Do you mind if I sit down?’ Lainey did not wait for a reply.

  Lowri shrugged her shoulders. ‘Make yourself at home.’ Her sarcasm was not lost on him. ‘You too, Sergeant.’

  The sergeant perched on the edge of an upright chair. ‘Did Mr Brandon ever talk about business to you, Miss Richards?’

  ‘No Sergeant Brown, he didn’t.’

  ‘Why not, if you were so close?’ Lainey asked.

  ‘I don’t know why not. I suppose it never occurred to me to talk about his bank balance, that’s all.’

  Lainey leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. ‘Are you sure he never left anything with you, a file perhaps?’

  ‘I’ve told you. Search the place, go through everything I’ve got, you won’t find anything of Jon’s here.’

  ‘Did you ever go abroad with Brandon, on a holiday perhaps?’

  ‘No, I have to work for a living or have you forgotten?’ Lowri pushed back her hair. ‘Look, I’m sick and tired of this. Are you going to charge me with anything?’

  ‘You are just helping us with our inquiries.’ Lainey spoke dryly. ‘I thought you wanted to find Jon Brandon as much as we did.’

  ‘I’ve helped you all I can.’ Lowri did not say that she could not care less whether they found Jon or not. He was a married man, he had made a fool of her and the sooner she was allowed to forget he ever existed, the better she would be pleased.

  Lainey got to his feet. ‘Can we look around or do you want the formality of a search warrant?’

  ‘Feel free. I’ve told you before, I’ve got nothing to hide.’ She walked to the door. ‘Is it all right by you if I take a shower? You can search the bathroom later if you like.’

  ‘We’ll look there first,’ Lainey said.

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t believe this, not any of it. What on earth could I be hiding that would be of any value to anyone?’

  Lainey did not answer and she sat there in the small kitchen, listening to the sounds of opening drawers and banging doors. Suddenly she was angry.

  ‘Mr Lainey!’ she called up the stairs. ‘As soon as I’m dressed I’m going to see a solicitor. I’ve had enough of being harassed by the police.’

  ‘That might be the best thing you could do,’ he called back, and Lowri bit her lip. It sounded as if she was in serious trouble. Why was Lainey being so arrogant and suspicious suddenly?

  The search of the house was completed quite quickly and Lowri slammed the front door the minute Lainey and his sergeant stepped outside. She had thought she could trust the detective to look out for her, and here he was treating her like a criminal.

  Later, as she walked into the office, Lowri saw that Sally was sitting at her desk. ‘Taking my place already, are you?’ Her tone was icy.

  ‘No,’ Sally appeared flustered, ‘Mr Watson wanted a file and I thought you might have it in your desk.’

  It sounded reasonable enough and Lowri was suddenly ashamed. Sally was not the brightest of people but she was very kind.

  ‘Sorry to be a grump.’ She sat on the edge of the desk. ‘Look, shall we go out tonight? We could go down to the pub or something.’

  Sally’s face brightened. ‘That would be lovely. Don’t bring your car, we’ll pick you up, Timmy and me. Half seven be OK?’

  ‘It’s a date. Will you phone through to Mr Watson, ask him can he spare me a few minutes?’

  Sally obliged and Lowri heard her boss agreeing at once to see her.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Watson,’ she said as she entered his cluttered office, ‘I think I am going to need help.’

  He lifted his spectacles; without them he looked more like a benign cherub than ever. ‘Then you have come to the right place.’

  As briefly as possible Lowri outlined what had been happening. ‘So the police seem to think that I am an accomplice in whatever it is Jon has done.’

  ‘Well, we can’t have that, can we? What is this detective’s name?’

  Lowri hesitated. ‘I don’t want to make trouble for him. Up until now he’s been very kind.’

  ‘His name?’ Mr Watson insisted.

  ‘Lainey, Detective Inspector Lainey.’

  He picked up the phone and dialled a number. ‘I want to speak to Detective Inspector Lainey and I want to speak to him right now, please.’ He nodded.

  ‘Yes, I am Watson from Watson Jones and Fry and this is a police matter.’ He winked at Lowri and put his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. ‘The police hate solicitors and what they don’t realize is it’s mutual. Hello?’ He listened for a moment and then spoke again.

  ‘I want all inquiries about Miss Richards to be channelled through me in future. Well, when you have this evidence we’ll talk again. Good day to you.’

  ‘There my dear, that settles that. These police will take advantage if you don’t know your rights. Now take the day off, you look all in.’

  Lowri had a coffee with Sally and then left the office. She took a deep breath of air, wondering what had become of her life. She had believed she was in love with Jon, had imagined foolishly that he was in love with her. It had all been a sham from start to finish.

  The crunch of dried leaves beneath her feet and the unmistakable smell of mist in the air brought with it a feeling of what she could only describe as grieving. She had meant to share the autumn days with Jon. They had even discussed moving in together, sitting at the fireside in winter, making toast and tea, all the things normal couples did together. Now she was alone and she wondered if she would always be alone.

  She climbed into the Mazda and negotiated her way out of the tiny car park just as Timmy was pulling in. She waved to him and he waved back. Sally was lucky, Lowri thought, Timmy was the sort of person whom you could trust. She ought to grab him with both hands. She pulled out into the main road and headed for home, ignoring the tears of self-pity that were suddenly rolling down her cheeks.

  Lainey studied the papers before him, details of Lowri’s bank account. Lately, there had been an influx of funds. Fairly large amounts of money had been deposited at irregular intervals. He only hoped she had some sort of explanation. He sighed. He would just have to talk to her again, bearing in mind she would have her solicitor present. That might prove a nuisance.

  He glanced at his watch: it was almost five, Watson Jones and Fry would be closing for the day. He stared out of the window for a moment; perhaps he should knock off early and see her on his way home.

  He took his jacket from the back of the chair and left the office. The corridor was quiet, which made a change. Usually the place bristled with eager-beaver young constables.

  Once outside, he breathed in deeply of the misty autumnal air; he felt alive, his senses heightened as they always were when he was presented with a particularly difficult case. He could swear that Lowri Richards was innocent of any crime. He had never lost his first impression of her, crouched in a chair at the Swan Hotel, her slim body clad only in the tiny scrap of cloth she called a wrap.

  She had looked shocked, her face pale beneath the fall of hair hanging over her eyes. If she knew anything at all about the case she must be the most superb of actresses. And yet . . . and yet.

  He sighed and climbed into his car. He had begun slowly to unravel a little of the mystery. He had looked into Jon Brandon’s business affairs but even while he found one piece of damning evidence against the man, something else had emerged that seemed to implicate Lowri Richards.

  When she let him in, he saw that she had been crying. He sat uneasily on the edge of the table in the sitting-room and cursed his inability to comfort her. She was a suspect in a fraud case, perhaps she was even a murderer. It was very strange that there had been no sign of Brandon after that last night at the Swan.

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ he said heavily. She nodded. He noticed her hair was longer now, she was letting it grow. It suited her.

  ‘I guessed as much. You do know you should have gone through my solicitor, don’t you?’

&nb
sp; ‘Yes, but I wanted to keep this as informal as possible, that’s why I’ve come alone.’ He hesitated, looking down at his hands.

  ‘I understand that there have been a few, shall we say unusual, transactions in your bank account.’

  ‘Really? Then you know more than I do.’

  ‘You do get statements, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, but as there’s never much coming in or going out I don’t check them regularly.’

  ‘But there has been quite a lot coming in, very large amounts actually. How do you explain it, were you keeping money safe for anyone?’

  ‘Who?’ She looked directly at him, her eyes wide with surprise. ‘Oh I see. Do you think Jon was paying me for something?’

  ‘I didn’t mention Jon Brandon. What about his partner?’ It was a long shot and he watched her carefully. She did not flicker so much as an eyelash.

  ‘What partner? I didn’t know he had one,’ Lowri said angrily. ‘I don’t know anything about his business or about the money. I don’t want any of this. I just want my life to get back to normal!’

  ‘Brandon was supposed to be in the import and export business. I have his phone bills as well as his faxes and e-mails. He communicated a great deal with firms in Europe as well as in the Caribbean. Did you know that much?’

  ‘I never asked him about his business and he never volunteered anything,’ she said more calmly. ‘Though I did get a postcard from him when he was abroad once.’

  ‘Where is it?’ He watched her walk to the drawer and rummage through the contents. It was weird how much rubbish women kept for sentimental reasons. She drew out a crumpled postcard and handed it to him. He read the brief message.

  ‘He says we are having a good time. Who is the “we”?’

  She shook her head. ‘I have no idea. Perhaps it was this business partner you mention.’ She smiled a little ruefully. ‘In light of what I know now it probably meant him and his wife. At the time I thought it was just a slip of the pen.’

  ‘Ah.’ He flipped the card over. The picture was of a spectacular sunset over a beach in Jamaica. It told him nothing.

  ‘What was he doing in Jamaica, could he have been trafficking in drugs do you think?’ He watched her face carefully. Was he hoping she would give something away or was he hopping she would not?