Kennedy 01 - Into the Shadows

by Shirley Wells

  ‘What about Andrew Collins?’ Max asked. ‘He sold the house to you so who’s to say he didn’t keep a spare?’

  ‘No one,’ Jill admitted. ‘He said he gave me all the keys he had but I don’t know. I suppose anyone could have one.’

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Max was idly shuffling papers on his desk, but his mind wasn’t on his work.

  The locks had been changed at Jill’s cottage and she was adamant that, tomorrow, she would go back home. Getting into Fort Knox without being seen would have been easier, but he still didn’t like it.

  Who the hell would put sodding roses and candles in her cottage? Apart from Valentine?

  Grace knocked on his door and pushed it open.

  ‘Guv, there’s a lady outside, a Mrs Margaret Green, who wants to speak to you. She says she has important information about Alice Trueman, and won’t speak to anyone but that nice Detective Trentham she’s seen on the television.’

  ‘You’d better show her in then,’ Max said, adding a grim, ‘Another crank is just what I need this morning.’

  Grace grinned and went away again.

  The woman she showed into his office didn’t look like a crank. She did, however, look very nervous. Nervous enough to get Max intrigued. He introduced himself, and shook her hand.

  ‘I’ve seen you on the television,’ she said.

  ‘Yes. Please, sit down.’

  She took a deep breath, fiddled with her black handbag, and looked straight at him. Margaret Green would be in her late fifties, Max supposed. A slim woman, fairly tall, with her hair styled neatly and a very erect carriage.

  She was wearing a dark blue skirt and jacket. A teacher perhaps.

  “I hope I’m not wasting your time, Chief Inspector, but ever since I saw the story on television about Alice True man, I thought I ought to say something. It’s been preying on my mind.’

  ‘Did you know Mrs Trueman?’ Max didn’t want to rush her, but he felt the stirrings of excitement. She was no crank, he was sure of it.

  ‘Sort of. Well, only by reputation,’ Margaret Green said, ‘and it was a long time ago. A very long time ago. I always wanted to be a dancer, you see, and I saw her in a few shows. She was good. A lot of it was her bubbly character and her natural sensuality coming through. There was never anything forced about her performances.’

  So how the devil had Alice Trueman, with her bubbly character and natural sensuality, married Jonathan True man and settled for what Max was convinced had been a stifling life at the vicarage?

  Come to that, if Margaret Green only knew her by reputation, what was she doing in his office?

  She fiddled with the straps on her handbag again.

  “I didn’t have what it took to be a dancer,’ she continued, ‘and my parents wouldn’t have allowed it anyway. So, instead, I trained as a nurse and got a job at a private clinic in Middlesex. The clinic offered vasectomies, fertility treatment, terminations …’ Her voice trailed away.

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’ Max asked, but she shook her head.

  ‘One day, a young girl was brought in for a termination.

  She was just eighteen, I learned. It was Alice Trueman except in those days, of course, it was Alice Walshingham.’

  ‘Are you sure it was her?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ She thought for a moment. “I knew it was her immediately, even though she was booked in under a different name. It was her age that surprised me but, apparently, she’d been dancing with Mainly Legs since she was fifteen. She was the youngest member the group had ever had.’

  ‘And she had an abortion?’ Max asked.

  ‘Yes. Sadly, there were complications and she was quite poorly. She was with us for over a week, I remember.’

  ‘Why did she book in under a false name? She wasn’t that well known, was she?’

  ‘No, but her father thought he was,’ she said grimly. ‘He was a lawyer and he disapproved of her boyfriend.

  I gather the termination was at his insistence. He was something of a bully.’

  Adrian Walshingham was dead now, as was Alice’s mother, but from what Max knew of the man, the fact that he was a bully didn’t come as any great surprise.

  ‘One day when I was on duty/ Margaret Green continued, ‘poor Alice cried and cried for her lost baby. She was distraught. I talked to her. Tried to console her.

  I thought that if I spoke of her dancing, it might remind her that she had plenty to live for. I told her I’d seen her on the television and knew who she was. She didn’t care about people knowing who she was, about dancing, about anything. All she wanted was the child she’d lost. And her boyfriend, of course.’

  ‘Do you know who that man was?’

  “I don’t,’ Margaret admitted. ‘He wasn’t allowed anywhere near her. Alice’s father made sure of that. Let me think - she did talk of him. She cried for him. Jim, that was his name. He was a student.’ She frowned. ‘He was studying something a bit different - ah, yes, I remember. He was at horticultural college.’

  A gardener called Jim!

  ‘He was at horticultural college in Middlesex?’ Max asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Margaret Green tugged nervously on her handbag’s straps. “I doubt if the poor girl ever saw him again.

  I imagine, however, that the murder of that child, as she saw it, haunted her until her death. I was pleased to read she’d had a son, though. I remember at the time that there were doubts about her ability to have more children. She must have gained a lot of pleasure from her son.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I believe she did.’

  ‘Do you have children?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Yes, two boys.’

  ‘Then perhaps you’ll be halfway to understanding how that poor girl felt.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Max couldn’t understand, though. His own father was a gentle, loving man. He’d been a strict father, but fair.

  All he had ever wanted for Max was his happiness. How could anyone understand how it felt to lose your own child, simply because your father disapproved of the child’s father?

  ‘That’s all I can tell you, I’m afraid,’ Margaret Green said, getting to her feet.

  Max also rose. ‘You’ve been very helpful. Thank you for coming to see me.’

  ‘Have I?’ She sounded surprised.

  ‘You have.’

  So helpful that Max now had to go and arrest Jim Brody for the murder of Reverend Jonathan Trueman.

  The thought filled him with no satisfaction whatsoever.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Max and Fletch arrived at Brody’s house just as Brody was pulling up outside.

  He got out of his van slowly, his dog running ahead slightly to see who the visitors were. Holly licked Max’s hand, but Max couldn’t look into those huge, trusting brown eyes. He was about to take her master from her.

  This was wrong. It should have been Alice’s father they were putting away.

  ‘He’s a murderer, guv,’ Fletch pointed out grimly, as if he could read Max’s thoughts.

  ‘He is, Fletch, and in his position, I’d probably be one, too.’

  Brody walked over to them. He waited for them to speak, but no one did. Fletch must have been waiting for Max, and Max couldn’t find the words.

  ‘How did you find out?’ Brody asked at last.

  ‘A nurse came to see me,’ Max explained. ‘She looked after Alice when she had her termination.’

  Brody’s eyes filled with pain, but all he said was, ‘Right.’

  Max left the formalities to Fletch.

  Fletch was already leading Brody to the car when Brody stopped and looked at Max.

  ‘Holly,’ he said simply. ‘She’s eight, and I doubt I’ll see her again before she’s gone. She don’t take to people as a rule and might be difficult to - well, will you see to her, please?’

  See to her? Put her out of her misery?

  Max looked from Brody to the dog and back again. It was far easier to look at Brody than the
dog.

  ‘Yes, I’ll see to her,’ he promised.

  ‘Thank you.’ Those two words were spoken with a quiet dignity that had Max wondering, not for the first time, what had happened to justice.

  ‘We’ll put her in the car with us,’ he decided. Brody had known enough grief in his life. Max was damned if he’d grieve for his dog, too. ‘Front seat.’

  ‘You what, guv?’

  ‘You heard.’

  Fletch had heard; he simply didn’t believe it. He didn’t like it either.

  Holly sat in the passenger seat, facing the back of the car and panting as she stared at her master. Fletch drove and Max sat in the back with Brody.

  They were almost at the station before Brody spoke. ‘We were so happy when we knew Alice was going to have our child, you know.’

  Max looked at him. ‘Did you follow her here?’

  “I would have followed her to the ends of the earth.’

  ‘And her husband killed her because she was finally going to leave him for you?’

  ‘Yes. Her father, her husband - they were both the same.

  They had to own her. She wasn’t even allowed to think for herself.’ He shook his head in disgust.

  ‘Why did she marry Jonathan Trueman?’ Max asked curiously.

  ‘Her father liked him so Alice was persuaded to marry him. Alice liked him in her own way, too. He was a good enough husband to her - so long as she stayed with him.’

  He fell silent again, and they were soon back at the station.

  It was late that night when Max finally drove home. He was tired, and in no mood to have a dog whining on his back seat.

  “I don’t like this any more than you do, Holly, but the choice is yours. You can either have a trip to the vet’s, a quick shot and end up being cremated, or you can come with me and make friends with Fly - always assuming Fly doesn’t swallow you whole. So what’s it to be, eh?’

  Holly threw her head back and howled.

  ‘Bloody hell!’

  Max grabbed a CD, one of Harry’s, put it in the player, increased the volume by several decibels, and allowed Eminem to drown her out.

  ‘Yes, I know it’s shite,’ he told her, ‘but it’s a bloody sight more tuneful than you.’

  Eminem had the power to silence the dog, but Max could feel her accusing eyes boring into the back of his head …

  Harry and Ben were still up when he walked into the house with a reluctant Holly following. Jill was in the process of picking up several model cars off the floor.

  There was no sign of Kate.

  It was good to be home, despite the mayhem that followed.

  Predictably, Fly raced around the newcomer and then jumped all over her. Holly stood still, trembling slightly, and trying her best to ignore the fuss. Meanwhile, Max attempted to answer his sons’ many questions.

  ‘Her owner’s had to go away, and she doesn’t take to strangers. I thought we’d see if she’d settle here with us. If not …’ If not, what? It would be no use trying to rehome her, and Max didn’t relish taking her to the vet’s. He certainly couldn’t mention such a fate to Harry. ‘If not, we’ll have to think of something else.’

  Jill stroked the dog, her eyes as sad as the collie’s. She would have recognized Holly as Brody’s; she must have guessed what had happened.

  The boys had been ready for bed when he’d arrived, but another hour passed while they tried to coax Holly to have some food. The dog merely lay down, her head on her paws, not interested in food or anything else.

  ‘She’ll feel better tomorrow,’ Jill told Harry and Ben, ‘which is more than you two will if you don’t get off to bed. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be awake to see Holly.’

  They argued, but they went. Eventually. Fly followed; the dog usually slept at the foot of Ben’s bed.

  ‘Do you fancy a drink, Jill?’ Max asked when they were alone.

  ‘Please. A small Scotch with lots of water.’

  He was pleasantly surprised; usually, she went straight upstairs to Kate’s flat. During the short time she’d been staying there, Max had hardly seen her.

  She sat on the floor with her drink in her hand. ‘What’s happened then?’ she asked. “I assume Jim Brody’s been arrested for Jonathan Trueman’s murder?’

  He told her of the conversation he’d had with Margaret Green, and the subsequent conversation he’d had with Jim Brody.

  ‘It seems that Alice’s father was a bully,’ he remarked grimly. ‘Funnily enough, he didn’t mind her dancing.’

  ‘No, it’ll be a Daddy’s little girl thing,’ Jill said. ‘He’ll have imagined her dancing for him alone.’

  ‘He didn’t want her falling in love with another man, though. He ended her relationship with Brody as soon as he found out about it. Then, when he discovered she was having Brody’s child, he whipped her off to a clinic for an abortion.’

  ‘Poor Alice. And had they been seeing each other ever since?’

  ‘No. Her father decided she ought to marry Jonathan Trueman and she went along with it. He must have been one hell of a forceful bloke. Or she was very weak. Anyway, she was happy enough, or at least content with her lot, I gather. Trueman was a good husband, and she tried to be content with that. And of course, Michael was her life. Brody says he pursued her. He spent all his time trying to track her down. He did - just before the True mans moved here. When that happened, he followed. No one in the village knew about their early relationship, not even Jonathan Trueman.’

  ‘And they fell in love all over again?’

  “I don’t think they ever fell out of love,’ Max murmured.

  ‘They both decided enough was enough, and they wanted to live together. Brody wanted her to disappear without telling Trueman where she was going, but even he knew that wouldn’t work. There was Michael for one thing. Alice insisted on telling Trueman the truth. She was frightened of his reaction. Terrified, according to Brody. He wanted to be with her when she told him, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She wanted to do the right thing.’

  ‘And Jonathan killed her?’

  ‘Yes. She’d told him she was leaving the night before, and she rang Brody the following day, saying that his reaction had been much as expected - a cold anger. His anger had frightened her. Anyway, it seems that Jonathan Trueman came home early the next afternoon, when Alice was in the bath, and went for her with a knife. She managed to get down the stairs and ‘

  ‘The poor woman.’

  ‘If Trueman couldn’t have her, no one else was going to.

  Brody had heard Molly say that Liz Hutchinson left a key outside for her. Brody knew Hutchinson had guns, and getting into that cabinet was easy enough. The key was on a hook in the kitchen.’ Max let out his breath on a long sigh. ‘He killed him quite calmly by all accounts. There’s no remorse whatsoever. I think,’ he added, ‘that if it hadn’t been for Holly, he’d have handed himself in at the start.’

  ‘God, poor Alice. What a sad life. And poor Michael.’

  Yes, it was Michael Max felt sorry for. Divorce was common enough these days and Michael would have coped with being part of a blended family, or whatever fancy term they used these days. He would have been happy with Alice and Jim, or with Jonathan. Instead, the poor kid had lost both parents.

  ‘Do you think Holly will settle?’ Jill asked. ‘And if she does, will you keep her?’

  “I hope she settles, but I don’t know. Brody’s been a bit of a loner, and the dog has spent almost every minute of her life with the man. I’ll keep her if she’ll stay. I just hope she doesn’t starve herself to death in the meantime.’

  ‘What a damn fool, Jim Brody I mean. Killing Jonathan Trueman wouldn’t bring back his Alice. All it’s done is deprive Michael, the boy who’d meant so much to Alice, of his father.’

  “I know,’ Max replied, ‘but I can understand it - his anger and perhaps his need for revenge, too.’

  Jill sighed. ‘Yes. So can I.’

  They fell silent, bot
h watching Holly. The dog was lying with her head on her paws - waiting. Waiting for a command from her master, waiting to feel his gentle hand on her head, waiting to please him, waiting for normality to resume. It was a depressing sight.

  Yet such unconditional love from a dumb animal was moving.

  ‘You and Grace?’ Jill asked suddenly.

  Max waited for more, but nothing was forthcoming.

  ‘What about me and Grace?’

  ‘Are you friends outside work?’

  ‘We’re friends, yes.’ Max considered the question. ‘If you’re asking if we’ve slept together, or are likely to sleep together, then the answer’s no. God, Jill, you’re the psychologist.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Meaning Grace is years younger than me, goes clubbing at every opportunity and insists on listening to Radio One.

  We’re miles apart.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Added to which, she got engaged to the man of her dreams last month.’

  “I didn’t know that.’

  ‘She’s been shouting it from the rooftops for a month.’

  Grace was a good officer, and Max liked having her on his team, but anything else had never crossed his mind.

  What a strange question.

  A disheartening question, too. Why couldn’t she see how much he loved her?

  But he knew the answer to that. He’d spent the night with another woman.

  Looking back, he found that hard to believe himself.

  Sharon had meant nothing to him. He’d barely known the damn woman. She’d been ten years younger than him, she’d had a great body with legs up to her armpits - and that had been it. He’d been flattered when she’d made it clear she was interested in him. He’d imagined a night with her would make him forget his problems. All it had done was make him long for Jill, the Jill he’d had before Valentine had screwed them up, before Rodney Hill committed suicide, before the fighting and the nightmares …