Hushabye

by Celina Grace

  She’d phoned ahead to check that Gemma was at home, for once not at the Fullmans’ place. She did at least have a few days off now and then, it seemed. Kate rapped smartly with the new doorknocker, already loose on its nail.

  Gemma was slow in answering the door. She peered somewhat suspiciously through the gap between the frame and the door, frowning a little when she saw Kate standing there.

  “Good morning,” said Kate briskly, stepping forward. This was almost always the easiest way to get in a house quickly – most people didn’t have the nerve to hold their ground. Gemma was no exception. She stepped back and Kate pressed on.

  “Lovely morning,” she said, now fully in the hallway. “I was hoping to have a chat with you about a few things, as I said on the phone. Could we sit down somewhere?”

  Obviously accustomed to taking orders, Gemma turned obediently and led her into the small living room. Kate’s heels clacked on the laminate flooring. The cheaply smart theme was echoed here in the interior decoration. There was a feature wall of gaudy wallpaper, large silver flowers and red tendrils entwined. There was a glass coffee table, a small black leather sofa and matching armchair. No books, but a pile of glossy magazines in a heap by the armchair. A large flat screen television dominated the small room.

  Kate perched herself on the armchair. Gemma sat down hesitantly opposite her. She was wearing black leggings and a fluffy white tunic, belted tightly around her tiny waist. She looked odd in casual wear, not quite comfortable, as if her natural inclination was to be strapped into tight-fitting and uncomfortable suits.

  “Do you want tea?” said Gemma, after a moment.

  “Yes, lovely, thanks,” said Kate. She almost always agreed to a drink in these circumstances – it gave you a good opportunity to have a look around. As Gemma jumped up and left the room, Kate allowed her gaze to drift about. It snagged on a large cardboard container resting at the side of the sofa, one of the bags which upmarket shops give to their customers to carry their goods away. Kate leaned closer. Very upmarket. She noted the Mulberry logo, the satin ribbons that tied the top.

  “You’ve got a new bag?” she asked, as Gemma came back with two steaming mugs of tea.

  Gemma nodded, after a moment’s hesitation.

  “May I see it?” said Kate. “I love Mulberry.” A lie, she didn’t know a Mulberry from a raspberry, but it might put the girl at her ease.

  Gemma hesitated again. Then she pulled out the bag and extracted the handbag from within, all padded sides and gleaming clasps.

  “Lovely,” said Kate, examining it. “Quite pricey, though, aren’t they? Thought you’d treat yourself?”

  Gemma nodded. After a moment, she said, “I got my bonus. From Nick.”

  “Great,” said Kate. Then feeling it was time to cut to the chase, she handed the bag back to Gemma and leaned forward.

  “I was hoping you could help me, Gemma. In cases like these, it’s important that we cover all the angles, so to speak – the background detail, the minutia – you know, in case there’s a small point that’s really important. Something that otherwise we might miss, but could be vital in solving the case. Do you see what I’m saying?”

  Gemma was holding the Mulberry bag on her lap like a shield. She nodded, biting her lip.

  Kate went on.

  “It’s useful to us to get a sort of picture of the people involved, their histories, their habits and so forth. As you’ve worked for the Fullmans for some years, I thought you’d be able to do this, give me an idea of, well, the sort of people they are. Are you able to do that?”

  Gemma was still for a moment. Then, exhaling, she put the bag back into its container and sat back in her chair, crossing her long legs. “Yeah, I can do that,” she said. “What did you want to know?”

  “Can you tell me about Nick – Mr Fullman? What’s his history? Where did he grow up?”

  Gemma laughed. “He’s an Essex boy. Funny, isn’t it? You’d never guess it from the way he speaks. His dad was a builder, but he made money, enough money to send Nick to private school. That’s why he talks the way he does, not all – well, Essex, you know. Not all rough.”

  “So he’s from a wealthy family?” Kate asked. “Well, a prosperous family at least.”

  Gemma nodded. “I guess, although I remember Nick saying his dad lost loads a few years ago, when the credit crunch hit. I think Nick had to lend him some money, bail him out, you know.”

  “Nick wasn’t affected by the property crash?”

  “Not so much. He kind of diversified into commercial property then and that didn’t seem to take such a hit. He always seemed to have loads of work coming in, anyway.”

  “You’re obviously paid well,” said Kate. Gemma looked a little offended, as people tended to do when money was mentioned. “Clearly you also work long hours. You work hard for your money.”

  Gemma looked mollified. “That’s right. It feels like twenty-four seven, this job, sometimes.”

  “Nick obviously works very hard. Do you think that it ever put a strain on his marriage?”

  Gemma sniffed. “Is that what Casey said? She doesn’t know, she’s born. It’s not like she has to work hard. She just gets to sit around and spend his money.”

  “Do you think Mr Fullman resents that? I mean, does it seem as though he dislikes working so hard?”

  Gemma laughed a laugh with no humour in it.

  “Nick doesn’t resent anything to do with work. He’s, like, a workaholic. That’s all he thinks about. I’m pretty sure that’s why he and his last girlfriend split up, the fact that he spends all his time working. And they’d been together ages.”

  “If that’s the case, do you think Mrs Fullman – Casey – finds that difficult?”

  “I don’t know.” Gemma was rolling a strand of hair back and forth between long-nailed fingers. “She doesn’t really talk to me much. She doesn’t like me.”

  “Why is that?”

  Gemma shrugged. “Probably resents all the time I spend with Nick. We work together a lot, you know. Casey’s bound to be a bit jealous. Wives always are.”

  Kate hesitated, wondering whether to push this further. Ask too probing a question and Gemma would clam up – but then, she needed to know...

  “Does Casey have any grounds for jealously?” she asked. “Is there anything more between you and Mr Fullman than perhaps there should be between work colleagues?”

  She braced herself for anger and indignation but to her surprise, Gemma seemed quite pleased at the prospect. A small, smug smile showed briefly on her face. After a moment, she shook her head.

  “No,” she said slowly. “There’s nothing like that.” She sat up in her chair suddenly. “But just try telling Casey that! She only thinks that because she–” Her voice stopped suddenly, and she dropped her eyes to her lap, picking at the arm of the chair.

  Kate raised her eyebrows. “Because she what?” she prompted, after a moment.

  “Nothing.” Gemma took up her lock of hair again, looking away. “It’s nothing.”

  The gates had clearly clanged shut and that was all she was going to say. Kate paused for a moment, re-running the conversation through her mind. There had been something – what was it? Oh yes...

  “You mentioned Nick’s ex-girlfriend, Gemma,” she said. “You said they’d been together ages. Can you tell me a bit more about her? Presumably you met her.”

  Gemma’s restless fingers stilled for a moment. “Rebecca?” she said. “Yeah, I met her. Several times. She’s all right.”

  “She and Nick were together how long?”

  “God, ages. Ten years, maybe?”

  “They were married?”

  Gemma shook her head. “No, they never got married. Don’t know why. I think they were engaged, but they never actually got married.” She leant forward a little, conspiratorially. “You know, I’m pretty sure Nick left her for Casey, you know. I don’t know for certain, but after they split up, it was only a month or so before Casey appe
ared on the scene. And it was only a month or so after that that she got pregnant.”

  Kate tapped her fingers on her legs, thinking.

  “So it wasn’t because of Nick’s work that the relationship broke down?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just guessing. All I know is that Nick was with Rebecca for years and then all of a sudden he was with Casey and getting married and having the baby and all that.”

  Kate nodded.

  “How did Rebecca take that?”

  Gemma’s eyes flickered. “Okay, I guess,” she said. She put the end of the lock of hair into her mouth, making her next few words indistinct. “I don’t really know. You’ll have to ask her.”

  Kate nodded again. There was a long moment of silence.

  “Well, if that’s all…” said Gemma, eventually.

  Kate leapt to her feet.

  “Yes, thank you, Gemma. That’s all for now. Thanks for your help.”

  Was it her imagination or did Gemma relax, just a little? It was probably nothing, but Kate noted it just the same. She pulled on her jacket and gathered up her bag. Gemma stood up as well.

  Kate took a last look around the room. A framed photograph on a shelf caught her eye.

  “Is that your fiancée?” she asked, gesturing.

  Gemma turned around to look. She blushed. “Um, no. That’s my brother,” she said.

  “Oh, right,” said Kate. “Nice-looking guy.”

  Gemma smiled unhappily. “I’ve got a picture of my fiancée around somewhere if you want to see it,” she said after a moment. “His name’s Paul.”

  Kate had already reached the front door.

  “Another time, thanks Gemma. Thanks for the tea.”

  The door shut smartly behind her as she was three steps up the tiny front path. She looked back. Gemma was standing in the living room window, half hidden by the curtains. Kate raised a hand, and the girl turned sharply away, twitching the curtain shut.

  Chapter Nine

  Olbeck looked up at the sound of Kate’s exclamation.

  “What’s up?”

  Kate looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “I’ve been looking up the prices of Mulberry bags.”

  Now it was Olbeck’s turn to look surprised. “Going to splash out on one, are you?”

  “Splash out is right.” Kate tapped a few keys to print out the current picture on her computer screen. “If I had a spare few thousand pounds, I’d be spending it on something other than a big leather bag, for God’s sake. I had no idea they were so expensive.”

  Olbeck perched himself on the edge of Kate’s desk. “Is there a point to this?”

  Kate looked up at him, tapping a pencil on the edge of her jaw.

  “Gemma Phillips has just bought a new one. A brand new one, of the most expensive type, if I remember correctly.”

  “And?”

  Kate paused. “Well, even with a bonus, would someone on a secretary’s wages be able to afford a Mulberry handbag?”

  Olbeck shrugged. “She probably stuck it on a credit card.” He grinned. “Or maybe she stole it.”

  “Ha, ha. She had it in the official bag, so I suppose not.” Kate pushed her chair back from her desk, sighing. “You’re probably right, it’s nothing.”

  Olbeck patted her on the shoulder. “She has an alibi, you know. We checked it out, first thing. She was out on a hot date – we’ve got witnesses placing her in a restaurant and then clubbing and finally the two of them entering Gemma’s house at about four o’clock in the morning from the taxi driver who dropped them off. The whole night accounted for.”

  Kate half-smiled. “That would be with the fiancée. Paul somebody.”

  Olbeck snorted. “Fiancée? Hardly. If it’s Paul Dinnock you’re talking about, and it probably is, it was her first date with the guy. We contacted him and he gave us the full story.”

  Kate swung round on her chair to stare at him.

  “Seriously, it was her first date? With this Paul?”

  “Yes. I don’t see why he would lie. He was quite open about it, the fact that they’d slept together. I didn’t get the impression that it was anything other than a one-night-stand.”

  “Right,” said Kate, slowly.

  “Does it matter?” said Olbeck.

  “Apart from the fact that she’s a liar?”

  “Is she?”

  “Yes. She told me she was engaged to the guy. She called him her fiancée.”

  Olbeck raised his eyebrows.

  “That’s – odd. Slightly odd, at least.” A thought seemed to strike him. “Or is it? Don’t women lie about that sort of thing all the time?”

  Kate grinned. “Well, that’s just it. She lied to me about having a fiancée. Is that just embarrassment at being single – I got the impression that that was a bit of a sore subject – or is it that she’s just a liar, full stop? And if she is, what else has she lied about?”

  She related the particulars of her recent conversation with Gemma to Olbeck. He nodded at various points.

  “We need to interview the ex-girlfriend,” he said, when Kate had finished speaking. “Don’t we?”

  “I think so. If only to get a bit more background on the Fullmans. I looked her up, her name’s Rebecca D’Arcy-Warner. Minor aristocracy, daughter of a brigadier.”

  “Let’s do it–” Olbeck broke off as the whirlwind that was Anderton was seen and heard approaching down the corridor. “After the meeting.”

  *

  Rebecca D’Arcy-Warner had an attractive voice, low and clear and unmistakably upper-class. For all that, she sounded at first aghast and then suspicious when Kate had explained the reason for her call.

  “I hardly think–” Rebecca said and then broke off. “I heard about it all, of course. I read about it in the papers. But what on earth has it got to do with me?”

  Kate attempted to explain. She could almost feel the woman’s disbelief radiating down the phone line.

  “We’re merely trying to gather some more background information,” she finished, fearing that her words were falling on stony ground. “As you were with Mr Fullman for so long, you’re probably just the person to fill us in on the background details.”

  “Well,” said Rebecca, doubtfully. There was a pause. “I still don’t see…but if you think I could help, I don’t know–”

  “We’d only take up a few minutes of your time, Ms D’Arcy-Warner,” said Kate. “Should we come to you?”

  “No. I mean, that’s not very convenient at the moment. I could come to you – wait, I know. I’ll be over at my father’s house this afternoon. He lives at Cudston Magna. That’s quite near you, isn’t it? I could meet you there, if it’s really only going to be five minutes. It’s just that my father’s not well, you see, and I don’t want him confused or upset.”

  Kate hastened to reassure her. She and Olbeck set off for the hour’s drive in his car, only slightly delayed by the now-traditional shovelling of accumulation from the front passenger seat to the back footwells.

  Cudston Magna was a tiny village, virtually a hamlet, set amidst rolling green hills and pastures grazed by sheep and cattle. Cudston Manor was a beautiful piece of Georgian architecture with golden stone balustrades and two wings extending out to either side of the original house. Kate got out of the car, feeling insignificant.

  Rebecca D’Arcy-Warner looked thoroughly at home here. She came down to meet them, shaking hands with the forthrightness of someone taught social grace from an early age. What surprised Kate was that she was considerably older than Nick Fullman, perhaps by as much as ten years, which meant she must be in her mid to late forties. She was an attractive woman, something of an Amazon in height and build, but with a mane of deep red hair and a broad, high-cheekboned face. She was certainly nothing like Casey Fullman in the looks department.

  “I’m sorry for being so abrupt on the phone” she said, ushering them through the front door. “It just didn’t seem like anything I could assist you with and I was worried about my fat
her being worried, if you see what I mean. He’s quite elderly, and I don’t like him to be upset in any way. It’s not good for him.”

  Kate nodded. Rebecca led them into a small, charming sitting room.

  “I’m not sure how I can help you,” she said, sitting down and clasping her hands together. There were no rings on her fingers. Kate remembered that she’d never actually been married to Nick Fullman.

  Kate began.

  “We were hoping you could tell us something about Nick Fullman. We’d like to know more of his background, from people who knew him well. I believe you were with him for some considerable time?”

  Rebecca nodded. “Eleven years.” Her face flickered for a moment and then cleared. “We met just before the millennium. We both belonged to a property investor’s network –that’s where we met.”

  “You and Mr Fullman were engaged?” said Olbeck.

  “Yes. We were engaged for two years.”

  “But – forgive me – you never married?”

  Rebecca shook her head. She was sitting very upright and very still, her hands gripping one another. “No, we never actually got married.”

  “Why was that?”

  She blinked. “Is that relevant?”

  “I’m sorry but it may be.”

  Rebecca looked away. “I hardly see how.” There was a pause and then she said, “Well, it’s old news now, anyway. I’m not sure why it didn’t work out. We just drifted apart really. It wasn’t anything very dramatic.”

  “You didn’t have any children together?”

  Kate was watching closely. As she asked the question she saw the minute jerk of Rebecca’s shoulders, almost too small to notice. Then the movement was gone, and Rebecca answered the question in a calm, steady tone.

  “No, no children.” She laughed, rather harshly. “I’m not very maternal, I’m afraid. Children have never really been in my life plan.”

  Olbeck nodded. “So there were no hard feelings between you and Mr Fullman when your relationship ended?”

  “Well, nothing out of the ordinary. I mean, it was painful. We’d been together for years. It took me a while to recover. I mean, when your life’s being going one way and then all of a sudden, there’s an enormous detour…that takes a while to get over, doesn’t it?” She gazed at them both, earnestly. Her words rang with sincerity. “But after the dust had settled, I could see – we could both see – that it was really for the best.”