Grace Smith Investigates

by Liz Evans

  ‘OK, the car wasn’t on. What next?’

  ‘I got him to prove he could really get into the house. He opened the door at the back of the garage. That’s when we heard Luke arguing with that woman.’

  ‘You mean you weren’t lurking in the coat cupboard?’

  ‘No. We never went inside the house. Not then. Carter wanted to leave soon as he heard them. But I wanted to listen.’

  ‘Eavesdropping is one of my favourite hobbies too.’

  ‘It wasn’t that. I thought she was a girlfriend. And if they were having a row and breaking up, Luke might want, you know ...’

  ‘A bit of consoling.’

  ‘Sort of. Can I have another coffee?’

  I waved to Shane, who was demonstrating the hand jive with a couple of sugar shakers, and told Kelly to go on. ‘What happened after she left?’

  ‘Carter wanted to bolt again. Anyhow, we’d just started to leave when we heard her outside. She was trying to get in the garage. She even got the door up a couple of inches before Carter managed to grab it and hang on. She went away after a while, so we could get out again.’

  ‘And this wasn’t the point where you dashed back and flung an enormous - and rather heavy - lance at Luke?’

  ‘No.’ She’d caught the scepticism in my voice. ‘And I didn’t have to fling it. But it wasn’t then. It was much later. Carter asked me to come up to his for tea. It was a birthday tea. His gran does them. It was gross. Stupid little iced fancy cakes and dinky sandwiches cut into stars and circles and things. I’d just die of embarrassment if my mum did that to me. I mean, it’s like she thinks he’s nine or something.’

  ‘But you hung in there.’

  ‘Yes. I did. And I bought him a card. And I had to look at his stupid space stuff. I mean, like I’m really going to be interested in quasars or black holes. I even put up with him drooling down my dress. He went to the loo once. I’m sure he - you know - did it to himself in there.’

  ‘That when you took the keys?’

  ‘Yes. How did you know?’

  ‘Just a lucky guess, Kelly. After which you dumped Carter and made straight for Luke’s?’

  She nodded, less sure of herself now she was getting to the nastier details. ‘I thought he’d be pleased. He was always saying these things - chatting me up, like - when he came to the pub. Only my mum and dad are always around there. I thought he wanted to see me on me own.’

  ‘What about your boyfriend? Or had you already had a row with him by then?’

  ‘Ricky? No. We never really had a row, I just had to dump him because ... Look, you’re getting it muddled again. I went up Luke’s because he was a film producer. And he had this great car. And it’s not like Ricky and me were engaged or nothing.’

  ‘Fair enough. Go on. You used Carter’s keys to let yourself in.’ ‘Luke was in the sitting room. At first I assumed that woman had come back. He’d got the curtains drawn and there were noises - like someone making out, you know? Only it wasn’t that. He was watching a DVD.’ She did her best to look cool. ‘It was no big deal. Some of the boys bring that sort of stuff into school.’

  ‘Did Luke know you were there?’

  ‘No. Not then. I didn’t want to embarrass him or anything, so I stopped in the junk room. That’s where the door from the garage comes out.’

  ‘I know.’

  It had been one of the rooms Peter had searched during our futile hunt for evidence of his mum’s affair with Luke. It was on the left side of the sitting room, opposite the kitchen, which led off to the right. I’d poked my head in briefly during Peter’s exploration, noted the accumulated junk of years that was kept because it ‘might come in handy one day’, and the big stone butler’s sink under the window that suggested it might have been the original kitchen or laundry room of the cottage.

  ‘Anyhow, when Luke had finished and gone into the kitchen with the DVD, I slipped inside and sort of got comfortable on that red velvet couch thing.’

  I could see it now. Had she gone for the sideways hip thrust with the dress hitched to thigh level or lain on her stomach, one foot waving and plenty of cleavage on show? All heaving hormones and moist lipgloss?

  Lots of blokes might have thought that an attractive package to find on their sofa. But not Luke, apparently.

  ‘He went mad. I mean, really off his head. I’ve never seen him like that before. He was scary. Asking me how long I’d been there. And what I’d seen. I tried to tell him it was OK. I said why didn’t he bring the film back and we’d watch it together? Sort of get in the mood.’ Her eyes grew larger and the pupils seemed to expand as she left Pepi’s fuggy breakfast atmosphere and travelled back to that early evening in Luke’s cottage. ‘He was shaking me and shouting what had I seen.’

  Unconsciously her hands slid up her arms to massage the faded bruises that had supposedly been caused by Carter’s enthusiastic necking technique.

  ‘I was really scared. He looked like he was going to kill me. He just wouldn’t listen. I was screaming at him to let go but it was like he didn’t even hear. I managed to get free for a sec, but he lunged towards me again. So I did a Tomoe-nage on him.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘A stomach throw. You stick your foot in the stomach, drop, and flip them over your head. He was coming at me so I got a good momentum. He really went high.’

  I remembered the trophy-filled bar room at the Royal Oak. And all those plagues inscribed to ‘K. Benting’ that I’d assumed belonged to Keith.

  ‘How long have you been doing judo?’

  ‘I don’t no more. But I was junior county champion. Will that make it worse?’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘With the police,’ Kelly said impatiently. ‘Because I knew what I was doing. Even though I never meant to kill him. I didn’t know he was going to land on that lance, did I? It’s not like I aimed for it or anything. I just wanted to stick it to him and get out of there.’

  Instead of which, she’d skewered him. ‘Did you try to help him?’

  ‘I don’t think so. It was all so fast. I didn’t know what was happening at first. There was like all this blood going everywhere and Luke was making these sounds .. .’ She shuddered. ‘I’d never heard anything like them before. He was gurgling and writhing around on the floor. And then he pulled himself up and he came at me again and his hands were all blood ... and ...’ She held her own fingers wide, palms towards me to demonstrate the horror that had staggered towards her. ‘And he kept saying “mob .. . mob”, only I didn’t understand.’

  ‘Mobile,’ I suggested. ‘The police found his mobile phone in the bedroom.’

  ‘Oh?’ A self-pitying tear slid down her cheek. ‘I couldn’t move. I really couldn’t. I mean, not if he had been going to kill me, I couldn’t have.’

  ‘Did he try to?’

  ‘No. He sort of lurched at the phone on the table. And he was banging his hand up and down on the buttons like ...’ She slapped the table to demonstrate Luke’s growing disorientation as he tried to beat life into that disconnected line.

  Shane took it as the call of a fellow rocker. With a wink in our direction, he took up the rhythm on his counter and finger- drummed his way through ‘Have I the Right?’.

  ‘Luke?’ I prompted. ‘Unconscious. Dead?’

  ‘I don’t know. I couldn’t bear to touch him to find out. I thought he might be faking. If he’d have grabbed me with those awful hands, I think I’d have just freaked ... And then Carter came.’

  ‘Came how?’

  ‘Same way as me. I hadn’t locked it behind me or anything. He was brilliant. He told me to stand very still so I didn’t spread the blood, and then he went and got these plastics bags from the garage. We put them on our feet and hands.’

  ‘While you moved the chaise-longue under the light fitting?’

  ‘That was Carter’s idea too. He said it had to be something heavy that had left marks in the floor. So they’d spot it had been moved and that would make them start t
hinking along the right lines.’

  ‘Or in this case, the wrong ones.’

  ‘Carter was great. He did something to the old bulb to make it blow. He really knows about all that science stuff. And then he put on a pair of Luke’s shoes and jumped around on the chaise so they’d pick up the right dirt and stuff from the seat and arm. Then he ... he ...’

  Her voice got tighter and she had to gulp a mouthful of cold coffee dregs before she could describe how Carter had carefully trodden in Luke’s bloodied footprints before he’d exchanged the shoes with the ones Luke had been wearing.

  ‘He couldn’t use those, see, because they already had blood on them and they wouldn’t have had when Luke was climbing on the chaise.’

  ‘Yes. I got all that, thanks, Kelly. What happened to the old pair?’

  ‘Carter chucked them. He was so brilliant that day . ..’ She said yet again. ‘He went back to the shop to get a new light bulb. He said he’d tell the police Luke had come in for it just before they closed. I didn’t like that bit much. I had to stay in there with Luke. I really kept thinking he was going to get up. Like in a horror movie.’

  ‘Why on earth didn’t you call the police? Or at least an ambulance?’

  ‘I don’t know. I was scared. I thought I’d go to prison. Carter sort of took charge. And once we’d done it all, it just seemed easy to go with it. We made up that story about going in for the birthday present to explain why my fingerprints were in the house. Carter said we shouldn’t mention that woman. Not first off. Keep it simple, he said. The less we tell, the less they can prove is a lie. If the police got too near the truth, we could sort of mention her casually and send them off in the wrong direction again.’

  ‘Why’d you tell me about her then?’

  ‘Don’t know. Yes I do. I was fed up with Carter being so pleased with himself. I thought I’d screw up his plan a bit.’

  ‘It was your plan too,’ I reminded her.

  ‘I guess.’

  I prompted her again, reminding her she was supposed to have been at the amusement park with Carter that evening.

  ‘I was. After we’d fixed things at the cottage, he made me go tell my dad I was going to the park with him. We had a taxi. And we went to all the places that have security cameras in Seatoun - so we’d have plenty of alibis. Carter said they can’t really tell exactly when someone died - not like in the TV programmes. Is that true?’

  ‘More or less.’

  ‘Nice one. All that science stuff comes in handy sometimes, doesn’t it?’

  I asked her if she hadn’t been covered with Luke’s blood.

  ‘A bit. Most sprayed the other way. It was lucky the bar was getting busy. I sneaked up the back stairs and got in the shower. Me and Carter put the clothes I’d been wearing in a rubbish skip in Seatoun. That weekend was awful. I kept thinking, when are they going to find him? But Carter said there was no way we should go near the cottage. He said the police always suspected the person who discovers the body.’

  ‘He’s a right little fund of knowledge, our Carter, isn’t he? Lucky I called in, wasn’t it? Put you out of Luke’s misery.’

  ‘I’m glad you found him,’ Kelly said simply. ‘I wanted him to be buried properly. It was horrible thinking of him lying there like that. Even if he did turn out to be a nasty shit.’

  ‘So why have you decided to confess all now? Conscience?’

  ‘No. Well, a bit. It’s Carter. I was really grateful. I was even going to stop the rest of them getting at him at school. But . .. but ...’

  ‘But Carter wanted a lot more.’

  ‘Yes.’ She stared through the windows. ‘He’s awful. Sweaty and horrible. And he hurts me.’ Tears threatened as she recalled what must have virtually amounted to rape. ‘I try not to mind. I take some stuff before I see him and just sort of block it out until he’s finished, but I can’t do it no more. I’d rather tell the police and go to prison.’

  ‘Why don’t you just tell Carter to go stuff himself in future?’

  ‘He’ll shop me.’

  ‘Then you’ll be no worse off than if you shop yourself. And who knows? Maybe he won’t. Tell him you’ll tell everyone what he made you do if he tries it.’

  ‘You think?’ Hope filled her eyes. A sunny morning and breakfast were starting to make the world look less bleak.

  ‘It’s worth a try,’ I suggested.

  ‘I guess.’ She bit her lip doubtfully. ‘But... what am I going to tell my dad? He’s going to go spare about my not coming home last night.’

  In the end she borrowed telephone change from me and managed to rustle up a school friend who was prepared to swear she’d spent the night. ‘Her parents are away. She’s got a floor full of people sleeping over. If I get round there before me dad drives over, he’ll never know. ’Bye. Ta for breakfast.’

  Her mood had already changed. I’d offered her a lifeboat and she’d gone from a third-class ticket-holder to Kate Winslet in seconds.

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ I called as she headed for the door. ‘Who moved the DVDs to the sofa?’

  Kelly looked blank. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You said Luke took the DVD into the kitchen. But I found Whiplash Wendy and her friends stuck down the back of the sofa.’

  ‘No. Those are Carter’s DVDs. He wanted me to watch them with him. Pathetic little creep. I don’t know what happened to Luke’s. I suppose it’s still in the kitchen.’

  So how come we hadn’t found it when we searched the place?

  37

  It was like a rerun of that first morning that I visited St Biddy’s. Only then I didn’t have a clue what was at the end of my bicycle ride, and now I did. I wasn’t sure the first option hadn’t been preferable.

  Since my initial visit, Harry Rouse and Luke Steadman were both dead; Atch had been carted off to a psychiatric ward somewhere; Kelly Benting was nursing a guilty secret and Carter was an accessory to concealing evidence. On balance, I reflected, pedalling into another fine morning, the inhabitants of St Biddy’s probably regarded my arrival in much the same spirit that their ancestors viewed the appearance of the plague cart.

  I’d popped into the office before heading out to Brick Cottage. Life in Vetch (International) Associates Inc. was returning to normal. Which is to say, Jan was slumped in reception prepared to repel all comers with an Olympic-class performance in the sulk, snarl and supine event; Vetch was huddled behind his overlarge executive-style desk wrestling with a sheaf of notes in Annie’s handwriting and wearing that smug expression that managed to suggest he knew something the rest of us didn’t; and Annie herself was upstairs slapping paint on her office walls.

  ‘Pink,’ I said. ‘How do you know the next tenant won’t want something a bit more butch?’

  ‘Hibiscus. And I like to leave things tidy.’

  ‘You’re still relocating to London, then?’

  ‘Possibly. There was a call for you earlier. 1 left the number on that pad.’

  I didn’t recognise it, but attempting to dial it on Annie’s phone brought a sharp ‘no’ from the decorator in question. ‘Use your own extension. And by the way, I’d just painted that door you were leaning on.’

  Luckily most of the pink - sorry, hibiscus — had missed the sleeveless singlet. I swabbed with turps whilst I punched in the unfamiliar numbers. Faye answered on the second ring.

  ‘Grace, thank heavens. I was just about to switch the phone off. I went for an early walk, but I’m almost back at the house. I can’t talk for long. Have you got the negatives?’

  ‘Afraid not. But I’m still working on it.’

  She said something under her breath. Even over the erratic connection I could hear she was agitated. ‘Has something else happened?’

  ‘Yes. Well, perhaps not happened. But there’s something not quite right. I can’t put my finger on it, but I keep getting this odd feeling that Hamish knows something.’

  I was darn sure he did. ‘Is he giving you a hard time?’

  �
�No. In fact, he’s being particularly charming.’

  ‘And this is a problem?’

  ‘You’re not married. You don’t understand. I really need those negatives, Grace. They are the only real proof of mine and Luke’s ... friendship.’

  Friendship? Nice one, Faye. The great passion was fading already. Isn’t it amazing how self-preservation kicks in again as soon as sex is no longer an option? But I owed the woman: how many people would nurse a virtual stranger through food poisoning rather than pack her off to the local hospital sharpish?

  I swore to Faye that I wouldn’t stop looking until I’d prised the relevant incriminating evidence out of my client. (Although how I was going to do that without alerting Barbra to the fact there was something rather special about her portrait collection was still beyond me.)

  Faye rang off abruptly as she reached the pathway to her in-laws’ house, I assumed.

  Annie had declined to give me a lift to St Biddy’s. Instead she’d delivered another lecture on the subject of replacing my car. It was back to Grannie Vetch’s pride and joy again.

  I’d left it too long between rides. My calf muscles and thighs were aching with the strain; someone seemed to have taken a lathe to the saddle and sharpened it to an even more impossibly narrow angle, and the shock absorbers had decided they’d absorbed enough shocks for one lifetime, thanks a lot - from now on, my bottom could do the job.

  By the time I reached the general store I was glad to dismount and wheel it the last stretch down Cowslip Lane. A car glided past as I was disentangling myself from the pedals. I glimpsed a subdued Kelly in the passenger seat. Her eyes met mine briefly, and imperceptibly she touched her forefinger to her lips. I nodded.

  There was no answer at Brick Cottage. I tried doors and banged on windows but couldn’t raise any response. Even the garage was shut down tight. It looked like Peter had gone. I experienced a twist of disappointment in my chest. Up until then I hadn’t realised quite how much I’d been looking forward to seeing him. I realised my mind had made itself up - without any conscious effort on my part as far as I was aware - to go with the relationship and to hell with what anyone else thought.