From the corner of his eye he saw a little Ford take the corner.
Peggy was back.
Jack slid into his car, and put the little camera and Harry’s phone directory down on the seat beside him.
And as soon as Peggy slowed and turned into her driveway, taking it as slowly as an aged driver would, Jack started his sports car and pulled away.
*
Sarah heard the downstairs door open, then someone coming up the steps to her office.
She looked at Grace.
“We expecting anyone?”
“Don’t think so.”
Then Jack came in, and Sarah guessed he’d successfully made it out of the house before Peggy’s return.
She looked over at Grace.
It might be okay for Grace to stay and listen.
But still Sarah felt cautious about discussing their ‘cases’ in front of her assistant, especially when it sometimes involved doing things that were, well, not quite legal.
And with a smile, Grace looked from her to Jack.
She got the message.
“I’m just going to pop over to the bank for a minute. Weekend looming,” she said with a smile. “Trying to stick with a ‘cash only’ plan.”
And as Sarah’s assistant passed Jack, she gave him a big grin.
“Hey Jack. Still loving life on the river?”
“Couldn’t be better, Grace.”
Then with a smile, Grace hurried down the steps leaving them alone.
After Sarah heard the door below shut Jack said: “She still seeing that guy?”
“Hmm, I think so. Grace’s playing her cards a little close. But she does seem pretty happy these days.”
Jack gave a look to the stairs. “Good. She deserves it.”
Sarah kept her eyes on Jack. She had found out something that could be important.
But had he also found something significant?
“Get the kettle on?” she said.
“You bet.” And Jack grabbed a chair and pulled it close to Sarah’s desk.
*
“Those stairs,” she said. “Suspicious, you think?”
“Very. Somebody played with them. Add the fact that Harry was up there … when he doesn’t go there. But that’s just for starters.”
“I thought you were looking pretty pleased with yourself,” said Sarah, smiling.
“You know the expression slam–dunk?”
“I do believe we Brits have been known to use it, yes.”
“Well, that’s what I had looking round the Platt’s residence. A detective slam–dunk.”
She watched him take out something from his pocket, like a magician doing a trick — then he turned his hand toward her and opened his palm to reveal …
…a tiny camera.
She took it from him and turned it gently in her hand.
“Spy camera,” she said. It looked familiar, but she couldn’t think from where.
“It was placed in the hall way,” said Jack.
“I don’t understand,” said Sarah. “Who would put a camera there?”
“Exactly.”
“Someone watching the carers?” she said.
“That’s what I thought,” said Jack. “Remember I said Maria had bruises? What if that partner of hers ‘helped her out’ with the clients sometimes?”
“So someone already had suspicions, if they put a camera there. But who?”
“Could be family. Or maybe even the care company” said Jack, picking up the camera again. “Guess there’s no way you can find out where this thing beamed its signal to?”
“Only by getting into the Platt’s Wi–Fi network,” said Sarah. “And to be honest, I didn’t even know they had one.”
“Maybe that’s been dismantled as well. And not sure I can go back again,” said Jack.
“I’ll talk to Tony,” said Sarah. “See if he’s had access to bills, maybe I can sneak into the network somehow. But that might take a day or two.”
“Sure,” said Jack. Then he seemed to remember something else.
She watched him take out of his pocket a tatty, faded book.
“For your next trick …” she said, smiling.
“The Platt address book,” said Jack. “Found it by the downstairs phone.”
Sarah took the frayed phone directory, the entries written in a neat penmanship, many so old the ink was fading to near invisibility.
“You going to explain?” she said.
“Harry phoned Kirsty that night,” said Jack. “Rambled on at her …”
“Really? You mean, the night he died?”
“Maybe minutes before he died. So I’m thinking — what if he phoned other people too that night? People here — in this book.”
“You think these phone numbers might be the answer?”
“I know the wonders you can work …”
“I wouldn’t exactly call them ‘wonders’.”
“To me they are.”
“Hmm, Jack — tracing phone numbers is one step too far — even for me.”
“Not possible huh?”
“Even forgetting the ethical question — which I can’t — I think hacking phone data is one of those activities that — these days — carries a prison sentence.”
“Shame,” said Jack.
“But there’s nothing to stop me going through the book, calling people, seeing if Harry rang them.”
“Sure. Guess that’s the next step …”
She watched him sit back in his chair.
“Well, that’s what I got, partner. How about you? You said you had something good?”
“I do. I met Peggy, had a nice little chat, ordered tea. But after I found out something about Harry. Well, Peggy reacted …”
Then she told him about Harry’s first marriage, the charges of abuse and about Peggy, the once probably stunning other woman.
And how the widow didn’t like talking about that at all.
“Wow. We’ve heard enough people say they didn’t like the old guy. Makes sense. And to be honest—”
“No more lies, hmm?” she said, grinning.
“Right,” he said with a laugh. “Okay, we have the stairs. The camera. The phone call. Our suspicions. No love lost for Harry. But somehow — it’s not hanging together. Least for me. What does it all mean?”
The kettle began whistling from the small kitchen area in Sarah’s office, and she fixed a small pot of tea.
Jack took his cup and cradled it in his hands.
“Maybe I should head back to Gloucester, have a chat with Maria — but on her own this time.”
“Makes sense. And I can line up some phone calls from the address book. I’ll get right on it.”
Then she noticed that Jack looked away for a moment after a sip of tea.
One moment he was there, the next not.
Something here he wasn’t saying.
“Jack — everything okay?”
He looked back, returning to the room, the conversation.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sure.”
Sarah held her look. By now, she could tell when Jack wasn’t being completely forthcoming.
A bit more of a wait …
“Just — that I sent my daughter a text. Just checking up on things. She practically lives with her phone.”
“Who doesn’t these days?”
“Yeah, so … no response. I mean, it’s not like her.”
“No service, maybe?”
“In California, outside Los Angeles? They have service in the mountains in that state.”
Sarah was about to say those things that one says to reassure someone that all was okay.
But instead: “Give her a bit of time. Then try her again?”
Jack stood up, tea only half finished. “Yup. Will do that. Now I need to head back to the Goose. Take Riley out for a quick walk — poor dog has hardly seen me these last couple of days. Then Gloucester. Call me if you find out anything.”
“I will.”
Then Jack turned and hurried down the stairs.
And while Sarah sipped her still hot tea, she flipped through the address book.
Who would a confused and wandering Harry make calls to?
She doubted this was going to turn up anything useful.
But, she thought, you never know.
13. The Trouble with Harry
“Oui?” said a male French voice.
“Bonjour,” said Sarah, sitting forward in her office chair and hoping this whole conversation wasn’t going to be in French. “Je voudrais parler avec Laura — elle est là?”
The phone went quiet. Then a woman’s voice: “Yes?”
“Is that Laura Platt?”
“Laura Marcousin — please. But yes.”
Sarah explained her connection to Tony Standish and why she was calling.
“I really can’t help you, Ms. Edwards,” said Laura brusquely.
“You don’t have any thoughts on the will?”
“No. And nor do I care about it.”
“I gather you didn’t see the family much …” said Sarah, trying to find any way in.
“I left home when I was eighteen. I haven’t been back since.”
“Do you mind me asking why?” said Sarah.
There was a long pause.
“Hello? Laura?” said Sarah, thinking the line was dead.
“Listen. My father … he was a violent man. The minute I could get out of that house — I did. And right now I do not want to think about it anymore, okay?”
Sarah worried Laura would put the phone down: “Laura, I promise this will be very quick — and I won’t phone you again. But please — it’s important — you must tell me more.”
There was another long pause, then Sarah heard a long breath.
“My father was a bully. He used to hit my mother. And my brother, Geoffrey. Talk to him — he’ll tell you. It never stopped.”
“And he hit you too?”
“When I was little. Then when I got older I stood up to him. He didn’t like that. Anyway, I got out. Came here. And now he’s dead. So it’s end of story — okay? Good riddance.”
Sarah suddenly felt so sad listening to this much hatred of a parent. The anger in Laura’s voice held a lifetime of bitterness, loss.
Those words spoken of a father — good riddance.
Beyond imagining.
“But you could come back — see your mother, no?” she said.
“She let him beat us up, didn’t she? She was no better. Her choice. Him or us, she chose him.”
Sarah didn’t know what to say.
“You got what you need?” said Laura.
“Yes, I think …”
“Good,” came the voice over the phone. “Please don’t call back.”
And then the line went dead.
Sarah clicked her phone off, sat back in her seat and shut her eyes.
A window had opened into the Platt family. She wasn’t prepared for what she had seen.
Was Harry’s violent nature the reason why everybody in this case was so nervous? But the man was dead. How could he still be having an effect on all around him?
*
Jack sat at the little kitchen table and watched Maria Slaski make two mugs of tea.
He’d dropped by the bookies on the corner before coming up to the flat and — as he’d expected — Robert Grieco was in there, staring up at the TVs watching some horse race beamed in from the other side of the world.
The desperate eyes of a gambler hooked on chance, on luck … even as a big financial ship was about to come in.
Jack could easily imagine what would happen to all that money.
He knew he didn’t have long — the bookies would shut in half an hour and Grieco might well come back before heading out to the pub.
“I knew you would come back,” said Maria, putting the tea down on the table and taking a seat opposite him.
“You didn’t tell me everything, Maria, did you,” said Jack softly.
“No,” she said. “I lie to you.”
“That’s okay,” said Jack. “Not a crime.”
“It was Robert. He told me … say nothing. He said keep quiet or the money will come slowly. Or maybe not at all.”
Jack sipped his tea and waited a few seconds. “So that night — the night Harry died — was Robert in the house with you?”
“No, he was in the car.”
“But then he came in?”
He watched her carefully. She seemed surprised by his question.
And now he was surprised by her answer.
“No. He sit, listen to music. Smoke. Like he always does.”
Jack watched her. No doubt about it — she was telling the truth now. But it wasn’t the truth Jack had expected.
Maybe I’m getting this all wrong, thought Jack. Maybe this isn’t about Robert Grieco at all.
“Just trying to work out who was there,” said Jack, reassuring. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
And nothing had prepared him for what he was about to hear …
*
Sarah had called Geoffrey at his shop.
But the call had gone straight to answerphone. Then she’d tried the mobile number on the card he’d given her — but again, answerphone.
She pulled the Platt address book closer and flicked through the pages until she found the entry for Geoffrey.
It filled a whole page — so many houses he’d lived in since leaving home, each address and number carefully crossed out.
Finally, an address in Chipping Norton. She dialled. A woman answered.
“Mrs. Platt?”
“Yes.”
“Sarah Edwards here, I’m working with Tony Standish on your father–in–law’s estate. Is Geoffrey there?”
“You’ve just missed him I’m afraid. Was it urgent?”
“Well, I do need to talk to him today …”
“Hmm. Well, if you’re in Cherringham, he’s actually just round the corner. Said he had to go to his mum’s house, do some repair work.”
“You mean the Platt house?”
“Yes. I’m sure he’ll still be there. Dashed in from work, just an hour ago, picked up his toolbox — off he went. Very dramatic!”
“Sounds like it was an emergency …” said Sarah.
“What he said!” said Mrs. Platt. “If you see him, tell him his tea’s in the oven! His bloomin’ mobile’s off.”
“I will,” said Sarah, clicking off her phone.
What was going on?
Had Laura phoned Geoffrey, told him about her call? Why the rush to go to his mother’s house?
Then she thought … Jack had removed the security camera just a couple of hours ago.
It hadn’t occurred to either of them that it might still be connected — or even that someone might be monitoring the live feed.
And then … a jigsaw piece finally finding its place … the security systems and cameras on the shelves in Geoffrey’s mobile phone shop.
What if Geoffrey himself had installed that system — and had spotted that it was down? Or even played back the footage to show Jack reaching up to take the camera?
And Geoffrey was at the house right now — with his toolbox. What was he up to?
She reached for her phone again and dialled Jack.
14. Family Secrets
Jack had picked up Sarah from her home, and now she watched him driving fast, racing to the Platt house.
“What do you think he’s doing there?” she said.
“Dunno. But I bet it has something do with the camera … and hope he is still there when we arrive.”
“Red–handed?”
He smiled at that.
She thought he was taking the corners a bit too fast.
But if there was anyone she trusted behind the wheel of the little sports car, it was Jack.
Sarah had quickly updated him about Geoffrey, and Jack said he had learned something important as well.
On the way, wh
ile making the Sprite’s wheels screech, he had told her that Grieco had not even been in the house that night.
But Maria had been. Had seen Harry lash out violently at Peggy.
All seen — he now guessed — by Geoffrey on the security cameras.
And with Peggy’s son’s own history of being abused, it seemed clear who killed Harry by having him fall down the stairs.
In a few breathless moments, with Jack way over the speed limit, they finally pulled up beside the small Platt house.
“Ready for this?” he said.
And Sarah nodded. For a case where everything they had seemed to be leading nowhere, it now all came down to this … confronting Geoffrey who was inside, probably trying to remove any signs of foul play.
*
Jack didn’t knock on the door.
And when he grabbed the door handle, Sarah hoped it would just open.
If Jack had to fiddle with his lock pick set, it could alert Geoffrey, give him precious seconds to cover his tracks.
Jack looked at her. A nod, then he gave the handle a sharp twist.
The door opened, and they raced in. From the hall it was easy to spot Geoffrey.
Whose expression couldn’t look guiltier.
*
As she and Jack walked up the stairs, Geoffrey froze in whatever he was doing.
Hammer in hand.
Ready, it appeared, to use big nails to secure the banister.
But Sarah guessed he was worried about more than just fixing a key element in Harry’s tumble.
The camera Jack had found.
Was it still on the network? Had Geoffrey seen Jack locate it, grab it …?
Knowing what it might mean. That Geoffrey was spying on Harry, the carer …
That he had seen his father strike his mother that night.
And that this time — he had felt that enough was enough.
She and Jack walked up the stairs together and Geoffrey lowered the hammer.
He opened his mouth, searching for what to say.
But it wasn’t until they were just a few steps below him that he finally said.
“Wh–what are you two doing here?”
*
Sarah looked at Jack. She’d take the lead.
“Geoffrey, the camera, probably others. They’re yours.”
Geoffrey’s eyes darted as if searching for an answer that might help.
But instead — he nodded.
A Death in the Family Page 8