by Abi Silver
‘I’m a little confused,’ Judith said.
‘The window. At the Qabbanis’ house. The agent I hired to find where they lived threw a brick through their window. Isn’t that what you mean?’
Judith sat back in her chair, slightly off balance as a result of Brian’s revelations, but determined not to let it show.
‘I’m not here to talk about Mr Qabbani’s window.’ She recovered her composure. ‘This is about your Cayman Islands trust, as I said, before your interesting admission diverted me. Most people can’t find out anything at all about Cayman Island entities. But I’m not most people. My late husband had his fingers in lots of pies, including in the Cayman Islands, and I felt the need to resurrect some of his contacts only this week, after reading Mrs Hennessy’s Will. They told me an interesting story about the BB Charitable Trust, Brian’.
‘Oh,’ he muttered. ‘That.’
‘Sounds like you have a nice little nest egg there – nearly three million pounds, I heard, “off the record”, of course. Would you care to comment?’
‘No.’
‘That’s a shame. Because, given that Barbara was likely to be one of your wealthier clients, that suggests a lot more “tailor-made” provisions in other wills you have prepared. I could get a court order now to seize your files and we could examine how many times you have taken money from your clients in this way, and if any others have died in unusual circumstances.’
‘I haven’t taken anything. It’s a charitable trust.’
‘Over which you have absolute power. How much do you make each year? Three million pounds is a lot of money; certainly enough to kill for.’
‘Hang on. You came here because you think I killed Barbara. For her money. That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard! I loved Barbara, I loved her with all my heart.’
He paused to fling a loving glance over his shoulder at his portrait.
‘I should have married her,’ he told Judith, ‘years ago. I had it all planned but that son of hers, Joseph, he wouldn’t make himself scarce. He kept trying to get her attention, wanted her to push him on the swing, to help him climb the wall. Somehow I never found the time to ask her again. And no other woman could hold a candle to Barbara, no one.’
‘Oh, come on. Why put these provisions in her will if you loved her?’
‘I am not just a lawyer, I don’t just give legal advice. I spend time with people, often when they are at an all-time low, when they need help. And when you spend time with people and get to know them, it’s your duty to explain things to them. Wills are often written in a hurry, and years before a person’s death. In the intervening period, families often become estranged and children don’t always live up to expectations. My tailor-made offerings helped cover those eventualities. I didn’t let my feelings get in the way. I treated Barbara the same as my other clients.’
Judith guffawed. ‘Nonsense. You were trying to play God, Brian. This isn’t about helping fulfil the testator’s wishes, you want these people under your control; you choose whether they inherit or not, you wield tremendous power. And if they don’t, your trust pockets the money. You must have loved it.’
‘Tell me again why you are here.’
‘Your professed love for Barbara is all very convenient now she is dead. Perhaps it gives you a motive, if your passion was not returned. Just because Mr Qabbani was acquitted, you should certainly not consider the investigation closed. And there is one thing of which I am certain. Your sideline in unusual will provisions has to end here. You are taking advantage of people like Barbara Hennessy, who want to pass their hard-earned cash onto the next generation.’
‘All the testators – they agreed to the conditions – thought them an excellent idea. They wanted grandchildren. Funny how money makes people suddenly change their minds about procreation.’
‘All right. You feel so comfortable with your conduct, you’re so happy that you’re morally clean, you can explain your philosophy to the solicitors’ conduct board.’ Judith rose to leave.
‘No, Miss Burton, Judith, wait a minute. I’m sure we can work something out which means you don’t need to spend your valuable time on this matter. And let’s begin by my paying for that broken window. That’s the least I can do.’
Judith sat back down as Brian took out his cheque book and pen.
61
Constance and Judith walked down Braham Terrace with some misgivings. It was Shaza’s tenth birthday and they had been invited to a small family party. Constance was carrying a large teddy bear under her arm; the largest the toy shop had to offer. Judith had a plant in a pot, all wrapped up.
As they approached the house the two women were stopped in their tracks. A number of people were congregating outside, one was setting out some cakes on a table, another was busy blowing up pink and purple balloons and a third man was tying the filled balloons onto some string. And all the dumped rubbish which had previously overflowed the pavement had been removed.
‘Are you here for the party?’ Judith asked them, as casually as she could manage.
One of the people turned around and then Constance recognised her as the woman she had met on her first visit. ‘Cath, isn’t it? How nice to see you again,’ she said.
‘Oh, hello. I remember you. Wanted Mrs Qabbani. I sent you to the café. How was it?’
‘Very good thanks. Was this your idea then?’
‘We all wanted to do something. To show them they’re welcome here after…well, after what happened. My daughter baked the cakes. Mrs Qabbani knows we’re here. We’re almost ready for Mr Qabbani.’
Constance knocked on the door of the house and was surprised that Aisha opened it.
‘We’re a little early,’ she apologised, ‘but it seems you have some company already.’
Shaza bounded down the stairs and hovered at the bottom.
‘Hello Contents, hello Judith. Thank you for coming,’ she announced. ‘Do you want to come upstairs?’ she added cheekily. ‘You have to see my new bedroom.’
Constance obliged and Judith followed Aisha into the kitchen.
* * *
Shaza stood at the door of her room and waved Constance ahead of her. Constance placed the teddy bear down on the bed and Shaza made a space for it among her collection. The room was newly painted in a soft shade of pink and the fitted wardrobes were now a deep purple. At the bottom of one of the wardrobe doors someone had painted a whole shoal of mermaids with streaming black hair.
‘Wow, Shaza! How beautiful your room looks!’
The little girl beamed.
‘Yes it does. Baba painted the walls and Mama painted the mermaids. She said if I was sad about Shadya I could think of her as a mermaid with all her friends, if I wanted.’
‘You miss your sister?’
Shaza shrugged. ‘We talk a lot, so it’s OK I suppose. She loves my new bedroom too.’
‘That’s good.’
‘It was one of my three wishes, you know?’
‘Was it? What were the others?’
‘Number two was that Mama would be happy again.’
‘And how’s that one going?’
‘It’s starting. She still cries a lot, but now she laughs a bit too.’
Shaza sat down on the bed. Constance hesitated but curiosity got the better of her.
‘What was your third wish?’
‘Oh that,’ she said. ‘I wished for Dad to become the best doctor in the hospital, saving lots of people with his operations.’
‘That’s a lovely thing to wish for,’ Constance said.
* * *
Downstairs, Judith gave Aisha her gift.
‘It’s a pomegranate tree,’ she said as Aisha unwrapped it and placed it on the draining board. ‘It’s probably not as impressive as the ones you had back home, and you need to bring it inside from Octobe
r till May. But you might be lucky and get some fruit in a couple of years’ time.’
‘Thank you, Judith. That is a very thoughtful gift,’ Aisha replied.
‘Oh and I almost forgot.’ Judith fished in her pocket and handed Aisha a cheque for £1,100. ‘I understand you had a problem with a window a while back. This gentleman, he wanted to make a generous donation to the repair fund.’
Aisha smiled in astonishment, then folded the cheque and tucked it in her pocket. ‘That’s very kind. Please tell him we appreciate his donation.’
‘How’s Ahmad?’ Judith asked, spying him sitting in the back yard, at the centre of a group of men, talking loudly and confidently about their plans to make a garden.
‘He is better,’ she replied. ‘He had such good news. The medical course to qualify in the UK. They say he can start next month. But there will be no charge.’
‘That’s the best news. I’m so pleased.’
‘It was Dr Mahmood, from the hospital. He arranged it for Ahmad.’
Constance joined them in the kitchen.
‘Gosh,’ Judith said. ‘People never cease to surprise me.’
‘Yes,’ Aisha replied. ‘He came to see us a few days ago. He said it is all arranged. And that he would make sure Ahmad found a job when he finished the training.’
Ahmad suddenly looked up and noticed Judith and Constance in his kitchen. He made his apologies to his friends and headed inside.
‘Constance and Miss Burton. I didn’t know you were coming.’
‘We won’t stay long. We don’t want to intrude. We just wanted to see how you were and bring a gift for Shaza.’
‘That is so kind. You must stay for tea. Aisha has been preparing.’
‘All right, but first, you need to come and see what our neighbours have arranged,’ Aisha said, ‘if we can tear you away from your friends, that is.’
Aisha led Ahmad to the front of the house. He stood for some moments in silence before going out to each of the neighbours and shaking hands.
‘Dear friends, do come inside and celebrate with us. My wife will make you some tea to go with that wonderful cake,’ he declared loudly.
As the neighbours filed into the house, Ahmad held back to speak to Constance, clearly with something on his mind.
‘You know I still think about Mrs Hennessy, even though she caused me all this trouble,’ Ahmad began. ‘She was a nice lady. She talked to me like, well, like a real person. She was lonely I believe.’
‘Yes. Her daughter only visited once a month. And the son, hardly ever,’ Constance replied.
‘Ah.’ Ahmad held up a finger. ‘Now that is what I wanted to tell you, but there was so much going on.’
‘What?’
‘I saw him. The son, Joseph Hennessy.’
‘What? When?’
‘After the trial. I saw him on television, on the news, with the daughter, Tracy Jones. And then I knew I had seen him before. The night Mrs Hennessy died. I was just leaving the hospital and he was coming in, with a bunch of red roses.’
Constance leaned back against the wall of the house.
‘He lied about visiting her. Oh God, I’ve been so stupid. Thank you, Ahmad. I won’t stay for tea after all. I’d better grab Judith as well.’ She stuck her hand out and Ahmad took it in both his hands.
‘Goodbye, Constance Lamb. Bieltoufeek. I wish you good luck always.’
62
Joe Hennessy was incensed at being summoned from his early evening barbecue, the gleaming gas monstrosity a little treat he had purchased with his share of his mother’s money, together with an apron and some specialised accessories. He didn’t have any of the money yet, of course, but in anticipation of the large additional income soon heading his way.
Dawson was grim-faced when he entered the interview room, Constance and Judith this time behind the glass to view the show.
‘Mr Hennessy. Thanks for coming in to assist us.’
‘We’ve got friends coming round in an hour. I’ve had to leave Janice to get on with it. Will this be quick? She’s pregnant you know.’
‘You had a little visit recently from Trading Standards, I heard.’
‘Yeah. Bastards came during the trial. Pretended they didn’t know. No respect.’
‘But fortunately you were at work?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And has there been any fallout?’
‘I thought this was about Barbara. If you are going to ask me about that, I want my solicitor. But let’s say I’m not too worried, Inspector.’
‘You lost your foxy lady who was pulling in the punters. Do you think she was the one who spilled the beans?’
Joe scowled at Dawson. ‘No one says “foxy” any more,’ he said.
‘All right. Let’s get on with why you’re here. Is there a reason why you and your sister have not persisted in trying to find out what happened to your mother?’
‘How d’you mean?’
‘Well. The man who was prosecuted for her murder was not guilty.’
‘Yeah. You made a right hash of that one.’
Dawson’s shoulders tightened but he did not rise to the bait.
‘Can you explain to me why you and your sister have not been more active in asking us to find her real killer?’
Joe Hennessy grinned nastily. ‘That’s your job, isn’t it? Trace and me, we don’t want to interfere. We’re just pleased we were finally able to put Mum to rest and grieve.’
‘Well. Would you be pleased if I told you we had a new lead? Into your mother’s death.’
Joe swallowed and his smile began to unfold at the edges.
‘Yeah, ’course I would. But…I mean…it’s been months now.’
‘Let’s cut the crap. Why didn’t you tell us you went to see your mother on the evening she died?’
Joe’s face instantly drained of all colour but he didn’t flinch. He didn’t reply either.
‘I’ll make the question simpler so that you can answer “yes” or “no”. Did you visit your mother in hospital on Thursday the 11th of May, the day she died?’
Now Joe placed his hands flat on the table.
‘I told you. I hadn’t seen her for months. We had an argument.’
‘No. That’s what you told us when you gave your statement back in May. But that wasn’t true, was it? You see, there is a small car park at the back of St Mark’s Hospital. It’s quite hard to get in there –pretty impossible during normal visiting hours – but after 8pm, when people go home, that’s a good time to find a space. And, do you know what else?’
Joe remained silent.
‘On the right-hand side of the car park, there’s a tiny camera set up to record all the number plates of the vehicles as they enter.’
Now it was Dawson’s turn to gloat.
‘So your car, licence plate YY66 JOE was in the car park at 8:06pm that evening. I have two officers, as we speak, running through the CCTV. It’s only a matter of time until we find a nice mugshot of you. So, it’s just the two of us in here. Why don’t you tell me what happened?’
Joe Hennessy rested his head on his hands for some time. For a few seconds he broke into a tuneless whistle. Then he sat upright and stared over Dawson’s head.
‘OK. I went to see Mum that evening. I hadn’t seen her for months. We’d had an argument, like I said before. She’d thought I’d been doing stuff she didn’t approve of.’
‘The conviction at Mackenzies?’
‘That? That was years ago. There had been a theft at my new work six months back, just before Christmas. It had nothing to do with me, I swear. But Tracy had said something, and Mum overheard – and the look on her face. I’ll never forget it.’
‘She thought it was you.’
‘Yeah. Pathetic isn’t it. It didn’t matter what I did, hold do
wn a job for fifteen years, find Janice; we’ve been together for nearly eight. She still thought it was me – my own mother. Do you know Inspector, when we were kids, she never bothered with us much? Tracy used to make the meals and buy my clothes. She was either “in her studio” or at parties. Sometimes she used to bring people home who pretended they were interested in her art. One of them tried it on with Trace. I thumped him. He threatened me with the police and I told him I’d tell them why I’d thumped him.’
‘She never harmed you, your mother?’
‘Not in the way you mean, no. But she made me feel like nothing. I used to lie awake at night trying to work out why she loved Tracy and not me. I reminded her too much of Miles, I think. Stupid sod, lauding it about at the funeral. She pretended they were still friends but she never forgave him for leaving. Things were better when Janice and me got together. Although Mum didn’t like Janice. Janice is quite a big girl; Mum preferred small and dainty.
‘People thought she was easy-going because she was an artist; just the opposite when either of us found someone we liked. She thought Janice was too big and she didn’t like Pete either; thought he wasn’t clever enough for Trace. Funny how she was so fussy with our partners, whereas the guys she took up with were hardly Mr Universe or rocket scientists.’
He took out a packet of cigarettes and removed one, holding it between thumb and forefinger.
‘Janice said I should go and see her – said she must be a bit lonely – so I did.’
‘You went to see your mother in the hospital?’
‘I bought some roses.’
‘Red roses?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Did she like them?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She wasn’t there.’
‘When you arrived?’
‘At all. I looked everywhere. She wasn’t in her room. I went all around the ward in case she had gone visiting and then I wondered if I had the wrong room, but her name was on the door.’