Death at Hazel House

by Betty Rowlands

  ‘I’d be grateful for anything you can do, Jim. I can’t afford to lose my job.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think it’ll come to that. How about some more tea?’ He released her hand and held out his cup. To his consternation, she burst into tears. He was at her side in a moment, pulling her to her feet, putting his arms round her. ‘It’s all right, darling, it’s just delayed shock… you’ve had a nasty experience… you’ll be OK.’

  ‘It isn’t that,’ Sukey sobbed. ‘It’s just… I know that when it comes out there’ll be a lot of nudge-nudge wink-wink… wanted photos of his swimming pool, hee hee… a likely story. You know how people are. That was what Mrs Bayliss thought, I know she did.’ She looked up at him through her tears and he stroked her hair, thinking how badly she needed someone to look after her, how much he wanted to be that person. ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’ she begged. ‘I had my suspicions all along, but I took a chance. I do so want to be able to give Fergus that trip – he’s such a good kid and he’s had so much to put up with – but I’d hate you to think—’

  Her mouth puckered like a little girl’s and he held her more closely. ‘You are just plain wet,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘That would never have occurred to me. But listen,’ he pushed her back into her chair and sat down again, ‘this bloke who attacked you has got to be caught.’ A thought struck him. ‘It couldn’t be Bayliss himself, could it? Maybe some kind of sexual perversion—?’

  She frowned, considering. ‘It’s possible, I suppose, but… no, I don’t think so. He – the bloke who attacked me, I mean – was roughly the same build, but I had the impression that he was younger, although I never saw his face. It all happened so quickly – I never had time to get a description.’

  ‘Let’s see how much you can remember.’ Jim’s professional instinct took charge and he began asking questions, jotting down her answers in his notebook. ‘You’ll make sure you put all this in your statement, won’t you?’ he said in his official voice when he had finished.

  Sukey, once again her normal, buoyant self, grinned at him. ‘Of course, Guv,’ she said. From upstairs came the sound of water cascading through pipes. ‘Fergus will be down in a minute. You won’t mention any of this, will you? By the way, what sort of day have you had?’

  He outlined the visit from Katherine Percival, his subsequent interview with Terry Holland and the details of the man’s birthday that had so fortuitously fallen into his lap. ‘He’s our man, I’m sure of it,’ he said, ‘but we desperately need some cast-iron evidence. All I’ve got at the moment is a couple of Day-Glo elastic bands.’

  ‘What about the prints on the loo seat?’

  ‘All they tell us is that it was handled by someone other than Chant or Holland.’

  ‘Which seems to confirm the housekeeper’s hint that Mrs Chant had more than one lover.’

  ‘Exactly. If we could track down “Walter Baby” it’d be a help. Oh, by the way, we do have this.’ He put his notebook away, took out the pictures of the missing valuables and showed her the one of the jewellery Holland had recognised.

  Sukey glanced at it and was about to hand it back when she exclaimed, ‘Just a minute! Mrs Bayliss was wearing these – or ones very like it.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  She studied the picture more closely. ‘I couldn’t swear to it, but it’s an unusual design, not the sort of thing you buy from a high street jeweller. I noticed because she was fiddling with it while we were talking – the earrings as well.’

  ‘Brilliant!’ His spirits rose again at the prospect of a breakthrough. ‘If it was a recent present from her husband, maybe he’ll remember where he bought it.’

  ‘I wonder if it was a peace offering,’ Sukey commented drily as she handed the photo back. ‘She had some nasty bruises on her face.’

  ‘A wife-beater as well as a womaniser, eh?’ Jim was deadly serious again. ‘You took one hell of a risk, Sook.’

  ‘I reckoned I could take care of myself.’ There was a familiar, obstinate tilt to her chin as she added, ‘Proved it, didn’t I?’

  ‘Don’t do anything like that again… promise?’ She looked so vulnerable sitting there, her fine-boned hands fiddling with her empty teacup, her sharp features pale and tired under the cap of short, dark curls. ‘Please, Sook. And about the school trip… I can help out if you’re short.’

  She shook her head and her small mouth set in a firm line. ‘Thanks, Jim, but I’d rather not borrow. Anyway, Paul should really fund it, but it’s difficult for him …’ There was no need for her to go on; Jim knew how things were with Myrna.

  He glanced at his watch and stood up. ‘It’s getting late and you need some rest. Will I see you at the weekend?’

  Her expression brightened. ‘I hope so. Fergus would like you to come and watch him play cricket, if you’re free on Saturday.’

  ‘I’d love to. By the way,’ he added as he put on his jacket, ‘have you mentioned what we were talking about yesterday?’

  ‘You mean about his sex life?’ She gave an odd, secretive smile. ‘Oh yes, I mentioned it.’

  ‘Everything OK?’

  ‘Everything’s fine.’ Her eyes glowed and she stood on tiptoe, putting her hands on his shoulders. Her lips brushed against his ear and he felt his heart thumping as she whispered, ‘Tell you about it on Saturday evening.’

  Sixteen

  Before leaving for work the following morning, DI Castle phoned DC Hill at his home and told him to make a point of finding out whether the five thousand pounds paid in at the Cheltenham branch of the Western Building Society had been secured in bundles, and if so, how. On reaching his office, he instructed Sergeant Radcliffe to give priority to a check on Terence Holland, born on 15 June 1956. He then called the county headquarters in Cheltenham and spoke to his old friend Inspector David Mahony, saying that he would be in the town shortly and arranging to call in for a brief chat later that morning. Then, after dealing with a few routine matters, he set off for The Laurels.

  There was a dark blue Ford Granada parked on the drive. Castle hoped it was Bayliss’s car, which would mean he hadn’t yet left for his office. He would be more likely than his wife to know where the necklace came from.

  A bespectacled, prematurely balding man whom Castle judged to be in his mid-thirties answered his ring. His expression was guarded and he kept one hand on the latch, holding the door less than half-open. Like Rita Holland the previous evening, he gave the impression that the visitor was unwelcome.

  ‘Mr Bayliss?’

  The man shook his head. ‘No, my name’s Lovett. I’m the late Mr Bayliss’s office manager.’

  Castle felt his jaw move floorwards. Of all the rotten, lousy breaks – just when he reckoned he was getting somewhere. ‘The late Mr Bayliss?’ he repeated. ‘I’m sorry… I had no idea—’

  ‘He was found dead yesterday evening,’ Lovett informed him. ‘A heart attack, I understand. What was it you wanted?’

  ‘Detective Inspector Castle, Gloucester CID.’ Mechanically, he held up his warrant card. ‘I realise this must be a very inopportune moment to call, but if it’s possible, I’d appreciate a word with Mrs Bayliss. It shouldn’t take long.’

  ‘If it’s about the report of an intruder—’

  ‘No, that’s being dealt with here in Cheltenham. This is a different matter.’

  ‘Can’t it wait? She’s very shocked. It was so sudden.’

  Much as Castle hated the thought of intruding on private grief, he had a job to do. ‘I quite understand, sir, and normally I’d be more than willing to leave it for another time,’ he said, ‘but it’s in connection with a murder inquiry.’

  Lovett hesitated, then stood back for Castle to step inside and closed the door behind him. ‘I’ll have a word with her and see if she’s up to it,’ he said. ‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting.’

  He disappeared into a room leading out of the hall, leaving the door partially open. Castle heard him say ‘Barbie!’ and there followed a brief c
onsultation in low voices before Lovett returned and said, ‘Would you like to come this way?’ and beckoned him into the sitting room.

  A petite woman in a white satin robe and matching mules was standing with her back to the door. She was silhouetted against a wide picture window that gave a view over the patio, with the swimming pool and garden beyond. It gave Castle a sensation like a kick in the stomach to realise that it was there that Sukey had fought for her life against her faceless attacker. For a second or two his imagination dwelt on the bleak emptiness that his life would have become had she lost that battle. Then, as the woman turned to face him, he switched his mind back to the job in hand.

  ‘Mrs Bayliss?’

  ‘Yes.’ She moved away from the window, sat down in an armchair and motioned to Castle to do the same.

  He put her age at somewhere in the forties, but possibly shock and grief were making her look older than she actually was. The bruises Sukey had mentioned appeared to be fading, but they didn’t help. She had a generally well-groomed appearance; her hair, although slightly dishevelled, had obviously been cut by a first-class stylist and her hands, which she held clasped on her lap, were expertly manicured.

  ‘Mrs Bayliss, I do apologise for troubling you at this sad time,’ Castle began. ‘I explained to Mr Lovett—’

  ‘It’s all right, but you must excuse the déshabillé.’ She pronounced it ‘dizzibiw’ and her faint smile and the way she settled the robe to conceal her legs held a hint of coyness. ‘What can I do for you, Inspector?’

  ‘I’d like you to tell me if you recognise this necklace and earrings.’

  He handed her the photograph and she gave a little cry as she took it from him. ‘Of course! It’s the set my husband – my late husband – gave me the other day. Lovely, innit?’ Her smile, half sad, half proud, gave way to an anxious frown and she shot a glance at Lovett, who was sitting apart from them in an upright chair close to the door. ‘Where d’you get this?’

  ‘You still have this jewellery?’ Castle enquired.

  ‘Course I do. But why—?’

  ‘I have reason to believe it was among items stolen from the home of Mr and Mrs Arthur Chant.’

  Mrs Bayliss appeared shocked. ‘Wasn’t Mrs Chant the woman what… who was killed the other day?’

  ‘That’s right. Did you know her?’

  ‘No, course not… just read about it in the paper.’

  ‘Did your husband know her?’

  She glared at him. ‘Here, what are you getting at?’

  ‘Really, Inspector—’ Lovett half rose from his seat, but she waved him back with an impatient gesture.

  ‘’S all right Steve, I can handle this.’ She turned back to Castle. ‘You suggesting my Charlie nicked this?’ she demanded.

  Castle was taken aback at this sudden show of aggression, but he concealed his surprise as he replied soothingly, ‘Of course not. Whoever murdered Mrs Chant almost certainly stole her jewellery and disposed of it through a fence. Now, if you happen to know where your husband bought it, it would be a great help to us in our hunt for her killer.’

  ‘Sorry, I’ve no idea.’

  ‘Can you remember when he gave it to you?’

  ‘Not exactly, a couple of days ago maybe.’

  ‘You can’t be more precise than that?’

  ‘Really, Inspector,’ Lovett interposed for the second time, ‘can’t you see how distressing this is for Mrs Bayliss? Surely these questions can wait?’

  This time she shot him a grateful glance. She handed the photo back to Castle and said, ‘Is that all?’

  ‘Not quite, I’m afraid. I must ask you to let me take the necklace and earrings for identification by Mr Chant.’

  Her face crumpled as if she was going to cry. ‘They was the last things he gave me,’ she whispered. She fished in the pocket of her robe, brought out a lace-edged handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. Then she looked at Lovett. ‘Do I have to?’ she faltered.

  ‘I don’t think you can refuse, Barbie, not in such a serious matter,’ he said gently. ‘It may turn out to be a mistake. Your necklace may not be the one in the picture after all.’

  ‘In that case, it will naturally be returned to you without delay,’ Castle assured her. ‘And of course, I’ll give you a receipt.’

  Reluctantly, she got to her feet. ‘It’s upstairs. I’ll go and fetch it.’

  Castle stood up as well. ‘I’m sorry this had to happen at such an inopportune time,’ he said, thinking how futile it sounded. She nodded and went out of the room, closing the door behind her. Castle turned back to Lovett. ‘It must have been very sudden,’ he said quietly. ‘Do you know what happened?’

  ‘We found his body in the sauna.’ Lovett nodded over his shoulder towards the window. ‘He’d had it installed just a short while ago. He was something of a fitness freak, but he had a heart murmur and he’d been warned against overdoing it. Unfortunately, he tended to ignore his doctor’s advice.’

  ‘Very foolish,’ Castle remarked, then said, ‘You were with her, then?’

  ‘Yes. She was worried because he hadn’t returned home and she called me to find out if I knew anything. I was concerned as well because he’d been out of the office all day and there’d been that report of a prowler attacking someone, so I came over. Eventually, that’s where we found him.’

  Further discussion was prevented by the reappearance of Mrs Bayliss holding a small lacquered box. She opened it and held it out to Castle. ‘Is that the one?’

  He took it from her, sensing her reluctance to let go of it. ‘That’s the one,’ he said gently. He closed the lid and put the box on the arm of his chair while he completed and signed the form of receipt he had brought with him. ‘Thank you for your cooperation,’ he said. ‘I’ll see myself out.’

  Stage one successfully accomplished, Castle thought to himself as he went back to his car. Before driving off he carefully slid the box into a plastic envelope. Then he called Radcliffe and instructed him to arrange an urgent meeting with Mr Arthur Chant before making his way to police headquarters and seeking out his former colleague.

  ‘Nice to see you, Jim,’ said David Mahony. ‘Any joy with your enquiry?’

  ‘I think so.’ He followed Mahony into his office and went over to the window, watching the traffic streaming along Lansdown Road. ‘I’m pretty sure I’ve got hold of some of the jewellery missing after the Lorraine Chant murder.’

  ‘Congratulations! How did that come about?’

  ‘Pure luck. One of my SOCOs recognised it from a photo of one of the pieces… said she’d seen a woman wearing it yesterday. I’ve just been round to pick it up.’

  ‘That was lucky. Did the woman say where she bought it?’

  ‘That’s where the luck ran out. Her husband gave it to her, and he died yesterday from a heart attack.’

  ‘Very inconsiderate of him,’ Mahony commented, without a ghost of a smile. Gallows humour had always been one of his specialities. ‘Think of the legwork he could have saved your people by hanging on for another twenty-four hours.’

  Castle grinned and nodded. ‘At least this item’s turned up quickly,’ he said. ‘More chance of a fence remembering who flogged it to him.’

  ‘Who was the bloke, anyway?’

  ‘A Mr Bayliss, of The Laurels in Charlton Kings.’

  ‘That rings a bell. We had a 999 from there yesterday morning. Some woman said she’d been attacked. A patrol car got there within ten minutes and the officers had a good look round, but found nothing untoward. None of the neighbours saw or heard anything, but one of them knew where the householder worked so we contacted his office and left a message. No one’s come back to us so far.’

  ‘They got the message all right… a chap named Lovett, Bayliss’s office manager, was there with Mrs Bayliss when I called. He thought at first that was what I’d come about.’

  ‘Was anything else said?’

  ‘Nothing. I thought of asking, but Cheltenham isn’t my patch and in
any case it was obvious the poor woman had had enough of answering questions.’

  ‘We were almost inclined to write it off as a hoax, except that the caller gave her name and promised to call in today to make a full statement.’ Mahony reached for his notebook. ‘I’ll check in a minute whether she’s been. And we should really speak to Mrs Bayliss, to make sure nothing’s missing.’

  ‘Sure. Now, there’s something else I wanted to mention.’ Castle pulled up a chair and sat down. Lowering his voice to a discreet level, he said, ‘The woman who made the 999 call is the one who spotted the necklace.’

  ‘Your SOCO?’ Mahony raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Right. I told her not to call in to make her statement until I’d had a word with you. The fact is, she was at The Laurels doing a bit of moonlighting. This Bayliss character – he owned the Bodywise Health Clubs, but I guess you already know that – pitched her a yarn about wanting some photographs of his garden and swimming pool. Unfortunately she bumped into the wife, who was just going out for the day and who obviously assumed she had an assignation with her husband.’

  Mahony’s brows lifted for the second time. He looked knowing. ‘Natural mistake,’ he commented.

  ‘But nevertheless, a mistake.’ Castle could hear his voice becoming over-emphatic and hastened to cancel any suggestion that he might be personally concerned by adding, ‘So Mrs Reynolds assures me. Anyway,’ he went on as Mahony made no further comment, ‘she went wandering round to the back of the house looking for Mr Bayliss, saw the patio door open and went in. It was then that someone jumped her.’ It wasn’t the complete story, he knew. Sukey would have to fill in the details herself. ‘She was pretty shaken.’

  ‘Understandable,’ said Mahony. ‘I take it you’d like me to see that word doesn’t filter back to George Barnes in Gloucester?’ he added shrewdly.

  ‘If you could. She’s a first-class SOCO and I don’t want to see her in hot water. She’s also anxious not to have it thought that she had any sort of relationship with this Bayliss character.’