by Rebecca Tope
‘You did, though,’ said Ben calmly. ‘Perhaps you should tell us how you hurt your knee. And how you’ve been in touch with a solicitor in Manchester who’s taken on your application to inherit the family farm, left by Gwendoline. How the only serious rival for it was Karen Wheelwright, whose father died this year, leaving her free to pursue her claim. Simon wasn’t interested, was he? But Karen most certainly was.’
Richard stared furiously at him. ‘You little snoop! Where have you got all this from?’
‘I admit I got into your computer and read the messages from Brock, Clinton and Dannington. Why go to a Manchester firm, I wonder? My guess is that any solicitor around here is either a relative of yours, or knows someone who is. It wouldn’t be safe to put anyone on the alert, would it?’
Richard turned to Norma, who was looking very pale. ‘So there you have it. Wild accusations without a shred of evidence. What do you make of it, eh?’
It seemed to Thea that the man was genuinely outraged. She had seen the way a murderer generally behaved when confronted with his crime. Mostly they went quiet, or began to tell a string of unconvincing lies. Sometimes they turned violent or tried to run away. She couldn’t remember one who had maintained such a dignified stance.
‘You should probably try to explain yourself, then,’ Norma said tightly. ‘Because I can testify to the fact that you were in that house on Sunday morning. I saw you from my bedroom window.’
‘Uh-oh,’ said Ben, slightly shakily. ‘We weren’t expecting that, were we?’ He looked at Caz and then Thea.
Thea was straining every nerve to make everything fit neatly into a coherent picture. The family inheritance … Gwendoline Wheelwright … Manchester … the business park … ‘Um …’ she said. ‘Shouldn’t you have mentioned that before? When the police questioned you on Sunday, for instance?’
‘He’s my cousin,’ shrilled Norma. ‘I wasn’t going to betray him if I didn’t have to, was I?’
Thea’s voice gained in confidence. ‘But I don’t think it was him you saw, was it? I think it was much more likely to have been his brother Edward. He’s the elder of the two, after all. Wouldn’t he have a better claim to the inheritance?’
‘Shut up. You’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘And who moved the ashes from the barn?’ Thea threw in, almost at random. The frustration and embarrassment of the afternoon still remained with her. ‘The ashes of the woman who started this whole business, as far as I can see.’
‘Thea.’ Caz Barkley spoke with unmistakeable authority. ‘Back off, will you? You’re not helping.’
‘She could be right, though,’ said Ben slowly. ‘Edward might have a stronger motive.’
Richard’s face grew redder than ever, but he remained silent. There were too many people, Thea realised. It was sure to turn into a chaotic mess at any moment, unless somebody made a decisive move. She hadn’t expected it to be Grace Berensen.
‘Karen went to Manchester last week,’ she said. ‘She had a letter from those solicitors, asking her to go and see them. She told me she wasn’t sure when she’d get home, because there might be reasons why she’d stay there over the weekend.’
‘Didn’t you wonder why she hadn’t phoned you? What did you think she was doing all this time?’
‘I thought she must be working on her case. We don’t live in each other’s pockets,’ she said. ‘I was working all weekend, anyway. I had a bit of a crisis of my own, as it happens.’
She hadn’t noticed herself still using the present tense about her partner, Thea observed. The reality still hadn’t sunk in very far.
‘But she believed she’d got a strong claim to the family property?’
Grace nodded. ‘Her father was Gwen’s favourite. He was always good to her. She knew it was going to be a hard battle, but she was confident she’d win eventually.’
‘All very stupid,’ grated Richard. ‘By the time the solicitors took their fees, as well as courts and barristers and all the rest of it, the value of the farm would be eaten up, anyway.’ He spoke to Ben. ‘Which is why I decided not to take it any further. Those emails you saw were out of date, laddie.’
A squeal from Norma alerted everyone to the inevitable descent into something much less civilised. ‘Liar!’ she accused. ‘Bloody rotten liar.’
Barkley acted quickly. ‘All right. That’s enough. Thea, please come with me. And Ms Berensen. As for the rest of you, there will have to be formal interviews to get to the bottom of all this. There will be a team of officers from Cirencester shortly on their way. Please ensure that you all make yourselves available for questioning. I suggest you go indoors and sit down. It’s getting chilly out here.’
Ben opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it again. Then made a fresh attempt. ‘What about me? Do I have to stay here with these two? And aren’t you worried they’ll concoct some sort of story together while you’ve gone?’
She gave him a very adult look. ‘Seems to me they’re more likely to do the opposite. But you can come with us if you’re not comfortable here. Just please don’t make any more accusations.’ She turned to Thea. ‘Exactly who is this boy?’ she asked. ‘And where did he spring from?’
‘I think he might be an alien,’ Thea replied. ‘He seems to have superhuman powers, anyway.’
‘Well, I’m glad he’s on our side,’ said Caz.
Thea felt very awkward ushering Caz, Ben and the real Grace into Tabitha Ibbotson’s house. It was even worse having to take Grace up to the attic, leaving the others downstairs. ‘But there’s not even a bed in here,’ was the first response.
‘No. There were blankets and cushions, but the police have taken them all away now. She wanted to be up here. She thought she’d be safe.’
‘Huh!’
‘I know.’ Thea was feeling more and more wretched, as she saw herself through this sad woman’s eyes. ‘The whole thing’s so dreadful.’
They stood there for another half-minute, saying nothing. Then, as they turned to go, Thea burst out, ‘So who did she hurt?’
‘What?’
‘She said to me, “We fear those we hurt” and she was frightened. She expected somebody to be after her. So who was it? What did she do?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Grace flatly. ‘It all feels like being in a ghastly nightmare, where nothing is even slightly rational. Karen could be very determined, and outspoken, but she would never hurt anybody.’
When they got back to the living room, Ben and Caz were both leaning over his smartphone, unaware of anything other than the little screen. ‘What?’ asked Thea, aware of a rising tension in the air above their heads.
‘The solicitor’s website. There’s an out-of-hours number. We’re going to call it,’ said Ben. And he did, there and then, apparently with Barkley’s blessing. He asked a few questions, clearly unsatisfied with the replies. ‘It’s a police matter,’ he repeated.
Thea met Caz’s eyes – and whispered, ‘So why isn’t it you talking to them?’ Caz waved a silencing finger, shaking her head at the same time.
‘Could you give me his number, then?’ the boy was insisting. ‘That can’t do any harm, can it?’
Apparently, he was triumphant, since he scribbled down some digits on his ever-present notepad.
He waved the phone at Caz – ‘You or me?’ he asked.
‘Best be you. I’m well outside the rules already. And – though it pains me to say it – you seem to be more across the details than I am.’
But Ben hesitated. ‘We need to talk it over first,’ he said. ‘If you’re not sure …’
‘I think I know who she hurt.’ Grace’s voice was low and slightly choked. ‘Karen – you said she must have hurt someone. I think I know who that must be.’
They gathered round her, eager and solicitous. ‘Sit down,’ said Thea. ‘In your own time,’ said Caz. Ben was holding his notepad and pencil.
Grace took the upright chair that Thea urged her towards, and lea
nt her head on one hand, elbow on the table beside her. ‘It started with Simon – Karen’s father,’ she began haltingly. ‘He was a very committed socialist. Communist, really, at least in the old days. Remember he was married to a Chinese woman. He was a devoted follower of Chairman Mao, back in the sixties. Anyway – that meant that he never approved of private property. When Gwendoline died leaving the farm, Simon was the one with the best claim on it. But he refused to have anything to do with it. So that meant the Jackson brothers and a few cousins all scrambled over each other to get it. All those years of wrangling, endless legal fees and false hopes. Karen would talk about it now and then, but there was nothing she could do while her father was alive.’
‘But then he died,’ said Ben. ‘And she could do what she liked.’
‘So who did she hurt?’ Thea demanded impatiently.
Caz flapped a hand at her, and Grace ignored her. ‘She went back on a promise. Simon made her promise never to make a claim on the estate. He made her sign an agreement, and sent copies to the relatives. But she broke it. She said it wasn’t valid after he died. So she went up to Manchester last week to see the solicitor handling the whole business, to tell him she wanted to apply for the inheritance.’
‘And ran into the other claimants who drove her back here, trying to talk her out of it, and when she refused to co-operate, they killed her,’ Ben summarised.
Grace heaved a heartfelt sigh. ‘That’s what it looks like, doesn’t it?’ Tears were trickling down her face. ‘But who would ever imagine they would kill her for it.’
‘So – the Jackson brothers did it, did they?’ asked Thea, with a frown. ‘And Richard twisted his knee on these stairs, when rushing to get away afterwards.’
She tried to assemble all the new facts into a better picture. ‘But who took those ashes out of the barn?’ That had been nagging at her all afternoon.
‘My guess would be Norma,’ said Ben. ‘But I don’t think it matters much now. The main thing is that somebody’s gone to the trouble to make her a little memorial, and think about her. That’s quite nice, whoever it was.’
Thea remembered that Gwendoline was also a relative of Ben’s, even if she died before he was born. She still hadn’t got the family relationships straight, and wondered whether she ever would.
‘We’d better go back over the road and talk to them,’ said Barkley.
After a stunned silence, Thea said, ‘But … won’t that be a bit risky? I mean, you won’t want all of us tagging along, will you?’
‘We need to know whose car brought her back here from Manchester,’ said Ben, tapping his notebook with a finger.
‘That’s an easy one,’ said Caz. ‘Edward Jackson’s vehicle was caught on the CCTV camera at the business park on Saturday morning. But of course he was dismissed as a local who had property there, so nothing was made of it. We can check cameras between here and Manchester to confirm it was the same car that brought her here.’
‘Norma says she saw Richard leaving this house on Sunday,’ Thea reminded them.
‘But Norma was lying,’ said Ben, on a sudden thought. ‘Because Richard’s wife told me this afternoon that he spent most of Sunday morning at the A&E in Cirencester, after twisting his knee. He fell down some steps in their garden and landed awkwardly. I’ve only just remembered – she talks so much, you tune her out after a bit. But you can check that, can’t you?’
‘We can check everything,’ said Caz, slightly uncertainly. ‘But if that’s where he was, why didn’t he say so earlier, when Norma claimed to have seen him?’
‘He did say she was lying. I think he’s the sort of man who doesn’t see any need to explain himself. He thinks his probity is self-evident,’ said Thea. ‘He knows he’d never kill anyone, and he assumes everybody else knows that as well.’
‘Norma stands to lose most of all,’ said Grace. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Norma Chadwick passionately wants that farm. And Karen just laughed at her. I guess you could say that’s the person she really hurt.’
Caz then revealed that there had been two uniformed officers from Cirencester sitting in a car outside the Chadwick house for the past hour. It took no time at all to walk over to them, request them to follow her into the house, and arrest Norma as being wanted for questioning. Thea stood in the gateway of the Corner House, and watched as the woman from across the road was slotted onto the back seat of the vehicle. Richard Jackson stood and watched them go. Thea couldn’t tell whether he’d seen her, along with Ben and Grace, who were in the driveway, talking quietly. So she called out softly, ‘Hello! Would you like to come over for a drink?’
He glared at her. In the fading light his expression was hard to read, but she thought it looked every bit as angry as before, ‘I do not, thank you very much,’ he snarled.
Ben was suddenly at her side. ‘He blames you,’ he said quietly. ‘You made it so easy for them to kill poor Karen, didn’t you?’
She was still trying to complete the picture, filling in gaps and stumbling over loose ends and puzzling questions. ‘Them?’ she repeated.
Ben raised his voice. ‘Edward and Norma did it together, didn’t they? She must have seen you and Karen going into the house on Saturday afternoon, and felt that fate had lent a hand. There was her hated rival, served up on a plate.’
‘Be quiet!’ Richard Jackson thundered. He came limping across the road at top speed. ‘Do you want the whole village to hear you?’
‘Oh, Uncle,’ sighed Ben. ‘It’s a bit late to worry about that, don’t you think?’
Somehow they all found themselves back in the house. Richard Jackson was plainly a broken man, holding himself together by sheer willpower. He accepted a mug of coffee, but made no move to drink it. ‘There was a meeting up in Manchester for all the claimants to the estate, including Norma. She went with Edward,’ he mumbled. ‘I was supposed to go, but Edward said he could speak for both of us. He phoned me on Friday night and said it had gone very badly, and there was almost no chance of us inheriting anything at all. Norma’s case was stronger than ours, but this girl of Simon’s was almost certain to win. He said we should just cut our losses and forget about it.’
‘And did you agree with that?’ asked Ben.
‘For myself, I never much cared. But Norma’s been a pal all our lives. More like a sister than a cousin. We hated to see her lose out, just when she’d thought it was in her grasp. The thing is,’ he raised his head, ‘that husband of hers, Bernie. He’s been borrowing money against the expectation of landing the farm. If they lose it now, he’s going to be in quite a mess. He’s already got a hopeless credit rating, after getting into trouble in his youth. Norma’s spent years trying to live that down.’
‘Ah!’ said Ben and Thea together, fitting another piece into the picture.
‘So, Edward backed Norma up when she turned nasty in the car. Karen must have been left in no doubt what they intended to do. No wonder she was so scared when you found her,’ said Ben to Thea. ‘That more or less wraps it up, doesn’t it?’
Thea had said nothing since the moment when she understood that Richard blamed her directly for everything that had happened. ‘She saw us from the window?’ she said now. ‘So – what would have happened if I hadn’t ever met her? Karen, I mean. If she’d crawled off on her own and somehow got back home to the real Grace with no harm done?’ She gazed miserably at Richard. ‘You’re right. It is all my fault.’
‘Stop it,’ Ben ordered. ‘You can’t go thinking like that. You thought you were doing her a kindness. You couldn’t possibly have known what was going to happen. Besides, Norma didn’t have to do what she did, did she?’ He turned to Richard. ‘And you knew all along what had happened, didn’t you? You knew and never said a word.’
The elderly man nodded slowly. ‘I thought it best just to let everything settle down without sullying the family name. The woman said her name was Grace. Nobody had the slightest idea who she was. I thought perhaps it would all just rem
ain unresolved for ever.’
Thea could see her own feelings of disgust clearly reflected in the faces of the other two.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was almost eleven when she got back to Broad Campden, having returned the borrowed car and been given a lift by Barkley. Fridays were popular for funerals, but she could not recall Drew saying there was one that day. The family car was in the driveway, which was not conclusive evidence of anything. She quietly opened the front door, eager to surprise him and the children.
But she had reckoned without her dog. Hepzie came flying out of nowhere less than a second after Thea stepped into the hallway. The spaniel’s ears flapped and the pink jaws flopped. The dog wriggled and leapt and slavered and wagged, and Thea gathered her clumsily to her chest for a prolonged and guilty hug. Still no sign of human life, she noticed.
They must be outside, she concluded, so she went through to the back door and looked out. A strange little tableau met her gaze.
Stephanie and Timmy were washing the hearse, very seriously and quietly. Soapy water dripped down the headlights, thanks to Timmy’s efforts, and Stephanie was giving the long side windows a similar concentrated attention.
Drew was lying on a garden lounger, his head turned away, facing a big straggly rose bush that had boasted four handsome pink blooms in recent weeks. Now the petals had turned limp and brown around the edges. A few lay scattered on the ground. Seeing that Timmy had spotted her, she put a finger to her lips and advanced on her husband. ‘Oh!’ cried Stephanie, as she too realised what was happening.
Drew slowly turned his head, and Thea stopped, aghast. ‘My God! What happened?’ she gasped.
There was a white surgical dressing on one cheek, and as she scanned his whole body, she realised he was wearing a dressing gown. ‘What …? When …?’ she stammered. Whirling round to the children, she demanded, ‘What’s been going on? Why didn’t somebody tell me?’
‘I fell downstairs, and landed on that bucket we’d left there for the past month or more. Cut my face and broke three ribs. Nothing serious.’