Murder in the Dark - A Libby Sarjeant Murder Mystery (Libby Sarjeant Murder Mystery Series)

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Murder in the Dark - A Libby Sarjeant Murder Mystery (Libby Sarjeant Murder Mystery Series) Page 6

by Cookman, Lesley


  ‘Carl – I’m s–sorry,’ stuttered Adelaide.

  Libby, trying to breathe calmly, stepped forward and held out her hand. ‘Doctor Oxenford? I’m so sorry for your loss. My friend and I were just trying to catch up with Adelaide. It’s fairly urgent.’

  ‘This is Libby Sarjeant,’ mumbled Adelaide. ‘I suppose I’d better see what she wants.’

  ‘Right.’ Carl Oxenford nodded a bewildered understanding. ‘Did you want to come in?’

  ‘No,’ said Adelaide hastily. ‘I mean, I’ll just see what Libby wants and then I’ll come back.’

  ‘Oh, right. Yes.’ Carl nodded again, and leaving the door open retreated into the house.

  Libby led the other woman down the steps.

  ‘What do you mean by assaulting me like that?’ hissed Adelaide.

  ‘Assaulting you? What on earth do you mean?’ Libby was indignant. ‘We’re trying to help you, that’s all.’

  ‘Help? How?’

  ‘Look,’ said Libby, anger suddenly coming to the surface. ‘Twice now you’ve asked for my help – from me, a total stranger. And, when I’m continuing to do that, you accuse me of assaulting you? Honestly. You’re not worth it.’ And she turned away. Almost immediately, to her relief, she felt a hand on her arm.

  ‘Libby, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.’

  ‘No, you weren’t. And unless you want us to go straight to the police with what you told us this morning, you’d better listen.’

  Fran had got out of the car and come over to them.

  ‘What are you so scared of, Adelaide?’ she said now. ‘Apart from your husband, that is.’

  ‘My – ’ The words stuck in Adelaide’s throat and she shook her head.

  ‘Well listen,’ Libby went on. ‘Just after you left, I had a call from Chief Detective Inspector Connell. He’s sure there was something between Roland and Ramani, but no one will tell him anything, not you, Roland or Carl. Now we know that you have evidence, and when he asked Fran and I if you had told us anything,’ not quite true, but nearly, ‘we had to decide whether or not to tell him. We decided not to, but to try and persuade you to go to him voluntarily.’

  Adelaide looked hunted. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Then we will have to tell him,’ said Fran. ‘We could be charged with withholding information if we don’t.’

  ‘Look, we know that you think Roland will know if you tell the police, but all you’ll be doing is confirming what they already suspect.’ Libby put her head on one side. ‘If that makes sense.’

  ‘I –’ began Adelaide and stopped. Looking over towards the blue door, she said ‘Will you come in and explain that to Carl? It affects him, too.’

  Libby raised her eyebrows. ‘So you know him better than you admitted, too?’

  Adelaide’s blotchy colour rose once more. ‘No – well, yes. Will you come in?’

  ‘I’ll just lock the car,’ said Fran.

  Libby waited for Fran, then they followed Adelaide down a short corridor and into what appeared to be a library at the back of the house overlooking a high-walled garden. Carl Oxenford stood in the middle of the room, and from a winged armchair beside him rose a tall, distinguished black man.

  ‘Um, Libby thinks I ought to tell the police,’ said Adelaide.

  Carl Oxenford looked slightly perplexed, as well he might, thought Libby, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

  ‘About what?’ he asked eventually.

  Libby flicked a glance at the other man, wondering why he was to be privileged to hear this conversation.

  ‘The police suspect there was a relationship between your late wife and Mr Watson,’ she said baldly. ‘I know you both suspected there was, all I’m asking is that Mrs Watson tells the police of any confirmation either she or you might have.’

  Carl Oxenford sighed and gestured to chairs set round a low table.

  ‘I tried to avoid saying anything,’ he said. ‘It will serve no purpose. Roland was in Brussels when my wife was killed.’

  ‘Anything you can tell them will help, even if it’s only for elimination purposes,’ said Fran.

  Carl turned to the other man. ‘Edward, tell them why you don’t want to antagonise Roland.’

  All eyes turned to the black man, now leaning forward eagerly with the elbows on his knees.

  ‘My name is Edward Hall,’ he began. ‘I’ve known Ramani since university. I’m a historian, particularly interested in the English civil wars.’

  ‘Wars?’ said Libby. ‘I thought there was only one?’

  ‘It was more or less in three phases,’ continued Edward, ‘and in what is now called the second, there was an uprising in Kent, not just of Royalists, although they joined in of course. It culminated in the Battle of Maidstone on June 1st 1648.’

  ‘Just after our house was extended,’ said Adelaide.

  ‘In 1643.’ Edward nodded.

  ‘I’ve never heard of the Battle of Maidstone,’ said Libby. ‘Have you, Fran?’

  Fran shook her head.

  ‘Unless you’re a student of the period you probably wouldn’t have. It’s hardly as famous as Naseby or Edgehill.’ Edward smiled at them both. ‘Sorry, I’m not being very clear. You see, Ramani got in touch with me and told me that Mr Watson knew of a secret treasure at his house, which had been extended in 1643.’ He looked from one to another of them waiting for a reaction.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Fran. ‘I’m afraid I don’t see …’

  ‘War between the King and Parliament was officially enjoined in 1642. Country squires, who would have mainly supported the King, knew there could be trouble.’

  ‘Oh, I see! So whoever owned Dark House at that time extended the house and built what – a secret room?’

  ‘I believe that’s what Mr Watson thought.’ Edward looked at Adelaide. ‘Has he never told you, Mrs Watson?’

  ‘No.’ Adelaide looked down at her lap.

  ‘Wait a bit,’ said Libby. ‘This is all very well, but what’s it got to do with telling the police about Roland and Ramani?’

  ‘Then Mr Watson would never let me investigate his house,’ said Edward simply.

  Libby and Fran looked at each other, taken aback.

  ‘That’s rather selfish, if you ask me,’ said Fran.

  ‘Look.’ Adelaide gave a tired sigh. ‘ It was because of this that Carl found out about Roland and Ramani. She was excited about it, and told Carl she’d told Edward.’

  ‘And I wondered how she knew.’ Carl suddenly leant forward and put his head in his hands. ‘God, I can’t stand all this.’

  ‘You have no idea why your wife should have been killed, Dr Oxenford?’ said Fran suddenly. ‘Why she had taken the car?’

  He looked up. ‘Burglary gone wrong, the police think. They found the car, you know.’

  ‘They did?’ said Libby. ‘Where?’

  ‘Somewhere in the woods. Theyʼve taken it in for – well, forensics, I suppose. She must have surprised a burglar.’

  ‘During the night?’ Libby frowned. ‘She died during the night, didnʼt she?’

  ‘I – I donʼt know.’ Carl looked bewildered.

  ‘But she wasnʼt in her nightclothes – she was dressed,’ said Fran, cottoning on.

  Carl shook his head. Adelaide and Edward Hall just looked confused.

  Libby and Fran both stood up.

  ‘We shouldn’t be here,’ said Fran. ‘We’ll leave you to it, but Adelaide, don’t forget – tell DCI Connell. If you don’t, we’ll have to.’

  They left silence in the room, but just as they were crossing to the car, Adelaide appeared on the steps.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I couldn’t think what it all had to do with Ramani’s murder.’

  ‘And didn’t it occur to you that you could authorise Edward’s search just as well as Roland?’

  This time the colour fairly flooded Adelaide’s cheeks.

  ‘I couldn’t. Roland wouldn’t have him in the house.’

  ‘A
re you saying – racist?’ began Libby.

  Adelaide bit her lip.

  ‘But he was having an affair with Ramani,’ said Fran.

  ‘I know.’ Adelaide now looked thoroughly miserable. ‘It doesn’t make sense, does it?’

  ‘You say Roland never told you any of this?’ said Fran.

  ‘How would he have got round looking through the house without you knowing about it?’ said Libby.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, I know,’ said Libby briskly. ‘We can do it. And Lewis will help. He’s good on old buildings.’

  ‘Not with Roland there,’ said Adelaide, the hunted look coming back.

  ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘He wouldn’t allow it.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! He’d told Ramani, and she’d told Edward – and Carl, for that matter, so he must have intended to go through with a search.’

  ‘What did he mean to do with me, though?’ muttered Adelaide.

  ‘He would have just told you when it was happening and probably told you not to interfere, wouldn’t he?’ said Fran.

  Adelaide nodded.

  ‘Right. Now, are you going to call DCI Connell, or shall we do it?’

  ‘Will you do it? Just tell them everything.’ Adelaide turned to go through the door and then said, ‘Why do you think he told Ramani and not me?’

  ‘That was exactly what I was wondering,’ said Libby, as Fran found a place to turn the car and they left Dark Lane.

  ‘He told her to impress her, I expect,’ said Fran. ‘If she knew Edward Hall at university, it seems likely that she was a history student, too.’

  Chapter Nine

  ‘Time to recap,’ said Libby, back at number 17. ‘We now have Ramani Oxenford telling her old mate Edward Hall – who’s quite a dish, don’t you think? – about Dark House’s history, which she got from Roland Watson, with whom she’s having an affair.’

  ‘And both Adelaide and Carl suspected it.’ Fran sighed. ‘Ian’s not going to be pleased, is he?’

  ‘He will be with us,’ said Libby smugly. ‘But he won’t be very pleased with Adelaide or Carl. And I wonder why the police pulled Edward in?’

  ‘No idea. Go on, you’re supposed to be calling Ian.’

  When Libby had finished telling him what she and Fran had discovered, Ian sighed.

  ‘I don’t know how you managed that, and I don’t think I want to. What did you think of Edward Hall?’

  ‘Apart from the fact that he’s a bit of all right, you mean?’

  ‘Libby!’

  ‘Oh, OK. Well, he seemed quite nice, but a bit selfish. Very focussed on his subject.’

  ‘It didn’t seem odd to you?’

  ‘Odd?’ repeated Libby, frowning across at Fran. ‘He’s a historian with a special interest in the civil wars. Did you know there were three? I thought there was –’

  ‘Yes, yes, Libby, I meant that he should come looking for Ramani just because of what she’d told him?’

  ‘I think he probably would. He’d have been trying to get hold of her on her mobile, dying to get inside the house. They’re obsessive, you know, these historical and archaeological types.’

  ‘And you would know – how?’ asked Ian.

  ‘All right, all right. So, anything else we can do for you?’

  Ian laughed. ‘I’ll let you know if there is. And if the Watsons do start a search in the house, I want you to go with them.’

  ‘Oh, we’d already decided that,’ said Libby. ‘We’re going to ask Lewis to come with us.’

  ‘Oh, God,’ groaned Ian. ‘The whole Sarjeant chorus.’

  ‘With bells on,’ said Libby.

  When Ben and Libby returned from rehearsal that evening, there was a message on the landline.

  ‘Who was it?’ asked Ben, coming in from the kitchen with two glasses.

  ‘Adelaide, sounding very peeved that I wasn’t here, and demanding that I ring her as soon as I came in.’

  Ben laughed. ‘And will you?’

  ‘No, I bloody won’t,’ said Libby, plonking herself down on the sofa. ‘Even though I am dying of curiosity.’

  ‘Here,’ said Ben handing her one of the glasses. ‘So when will you ring her?’

  ‘In the morning.’ Libby curled her feet up under her. ‘Isn’t it funny? We’ve got Ian and one of the suspects both asking for our help.’

  ‘Ian’s asking you to spy for him.’

  ‘I know he is, but let’s face it, I don’t owe the Watsons anything, and it’s very interesting.’

  ‘Born nosy, that’s you,’ said Ben.

  Libby deliberately waited until late morning before ringing Adelaide Watson, ignoring the landline when it rang twice.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Adelaide’s voice rose in a petulant shriek.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Libby coldly.

  ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you since last night.’

  ‘I know. I’ve been busy.’

  ‘How? What have you been doing?’

  ‘Is it any business of yours?’ said Libby, ice seeping in to the airwaves. There was a short silence.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’ve just been so – so –’

  ‘Wound up?’ suggested Libby. ‘Yes, I can hear that. So what was so urgent?’

  ‘It’s Edward. Well, Edward and Roland. You see, Edward came round last night.’

  ‘To Dark House?’

  ‘Yes. And Roland tried to throw him out.’

  ‘Ah. What did you think I could do?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ wailed Adelaide. ‘I didn’t know who to turn to.’

  ‘What happened in the end?’

  ‘Edward left. But that inspector had been here talking to Roland in private and when they went he was furious.’

  ‘He thought you’d told about the affair?’

  ‘Well, of course he did, and I’d told you, so I couldn’t deny it. I tried to tell him Carl knew, too, but he pooh-poohed the idea. Said I’d been spying on him.’

  ‘What did you say?’ asked Libby.

  ‘I – I – nothing.’ Something in Adelaide’s tone told Libby this wasn’t all there was to it.

  ‘Adelaide, did he hit you?’

  Silence.

  ‘Right, that means he did. You really should leave, you know. You said you were going to.’

  ‘I know,’ said Adelaide in a small voice, ‘but where could I go?’

  Libby hardened her heart. ‘What about one of your sons?’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t! Besides, they wouldn’t have room for me.’

  Libby suppressed the thought of how her own children would react in this situation. Adelaide wasn’t Libby, and her sons were not like Adam, Belinda and Dominic.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Adelaide, her voice sounding stronger, ‘Carl and Edward said if I leave the house, he could try and maintain that I abandoned him and decide I couldn’t have half the value.’

  ‘I don’t think he could do that,’ said Libby, ‘but he might try and prevent you going back to it. When did you speak to Carl and Edward about it?’

  ‘After you left Carl’s yesterday afternoon. And Edward called me this morning.’

  ‘Where’s Roland now?’

  Adelaide sighed. ‘He had to go back to the station to give an amended statement. I think they’re trying to break his alibi.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ said Libby.

  ‘You didn’t like him,’ stated Adelaide.

  ‘No,’ said Libby. ‘Do you?’

  There was a pause. Then ‘No,’ said Adelaide in a surprised voice. ‘I don’t. I thought I loved him still, but even that’s not true any more.’

  ‘I should start making plans,’ said Libby. ‘You have every reason to leave him. Have you got a solicitor?’

  ‘Only the one who did the conveyancing on this house. I could ask her.’

  ‘More to the point, what about this treasure Roland said he knew about? Has he said any more?’

  ‘No. That was
what Edward wanted to ask, but Roland said he wasn’t going to let a – well – a black man in to the house.’

  ‘You could,’ said Libby slowly, ‘tell him to leave. You’d be entitled to, I should think. Is the house in joint names?’

  ‘Oh, yes. The solicitor made sure we knew all about tenants in common and joint tenants. She got quite firm with Roland.’

  ‘I bet.’ Libby grinned. ‘She sounds like the one for you, then. See what the legal position is. It might be that he will refuse to leave his own house, and of course, who could blame him, but you could always insist that you ask whoever you like into it.’

  Adelaide sighed. ‘I’ll try, but I’ve never been good at standing up to him.’

  ‘Meanwhile, do you think Edward would talk to me? I’m really interested in his research, and if we’re going to help look for this treasure, or whatever it is – if Roland lets us, of course – I need to know more about it.’

  ‘I’m sure he would. May I give him your phone number?’

  ‘Good idea. And listen Adelaide, ring me if you need to, just be aware I can’t always come immediately.’

  ‘I know.’ Adelaide sounded defeated. ‘You have a life.’

  ‘So do you, so chin up. I’ll speak to you soon, and keep me up to date.’

  Libby relayed this conversation to Fran immediately she stopped speaking to Adelaide.

  ‘If Edward agrees to meet you, I want to be there, too,’ said Fran. ‘I’ve got a feeling I might be of use in this search, if there is one.’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking of meeting him, just a phone call.’

  ‘No, we must meet him. We need to know if he’s a suspect as well as everything else.’

  ‘We–ell,’ said Libby, ‘I might slobber all over him, but you know best. And he is a suspect, we know that.’

  ‘I mean a suspect to us, not the police. And you will not slobber.’

  Libby decided she’d better do a supermarket run to stock up on things not for sale in the village. As the nearest supermarket was either the small one in Nethergate or a choice of larger ones in Canterbury, this was not something done regularly and usually ended up in confusion, Libby being unable to resist a bargain.

  Coming home laden with bulk buy toilet rolls and several packets of cereal on the buy one get one free basis, Libby saw the red light flashing on the answerphone.

 

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