Dirty Secrets

by JANICE FROST

  “I appreciate that,” Neal said.

  At the end of the meeting, Lesley agreed to compile a full report on the state of Russ Marsh’s financial affairs, and on Cornish and Marsh as individuals, and present it to them as soon as possible. In the meantime, she would make herself available to discuss the case as and when the need arose.

  “Okay if I liaise with DS Knight, as a point of contact?” she asked, before Neal could assign the role to anyone else.

  “That okay with you, Tom?” Neal asked. After a moment’s hesitation, Tom nodded.

  “Catch you all later, then,” Lesley said breezily, addressing Tom more than the others. Their eyes followed her as she sashayed off. Lesley was shaped like an engorged pear. Tiny waist, round bottom and full hips. She wore tight black trousers and a leather bomber jacket. It was sort of mesmerising watching her exit.

  “Ava, you’re with me this morning. We’re going out to Crystal Lakes to see Gail Cornish. She contacted me earlier and asked if she could speak with us. Grab a coffee, I have some urgent emails to attend to first.” Neal retreated to his office.

  Ava and PJ exchanged grins.

  “So, Tom. You interested?” Ava said.

  “What?” Tom was all innocence.

  “Come on, her eyes were all over you,” PJ said.

  “You think so?”

  “You know so.”

  “Bet you’re looking forward to liaising with her,” Ava said.

  “Now you’re embarrassing me,” Tom protested. Ava thought of all the times she’d been on the receiving end of lewd comments from male colleagues, and felt no pity. She picked up her empty coffee cup and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Neal was ready within twenty minutes, and they drove out to the Cornishes’ place. Crystal Lakes was a new development of homes, retail outlets and leisure facilities arranged around a purpose-built marina and a series of artificial lakes, which led to a canal that ran through the centre of Stromford, two miles away. Set in acres of countryside, it represented the ultimate in luxury living for well-to-do professionals and retirees looking for prestigious accommodation with recreational facilities a stone’s throw from the city. Or so went the blurb that Ava had read on the property developer’s website.

  Crystal Lakes boasted award-winning designer homes — luxury apartments with balconies overlooking the marina, and luxury houses with their own private jetty. The residential area was gated, providing twenty-four-hour security.

  “How the other half live.” Ava looked around her as they drove in.

  “Wouldn’t be my cup of tea,” remarked Neal. “Wealth and privilege barricading itself in a fortress against the masses.”

  Ava chuckled. “Come the revolution, eh, sir?”

  Neal scowled, but not at Ava’s remark. He’d spotted the security post.

  “Police,” Neal said, and then smiled. The guard was one of the workers, after all.

  “Thank you, sir.” His accent was Eastern European. He was in his twenties, and probably on minimum wage.

  “Can you direct us to the Cornishes’ house?” Ava asked.

  “Right at junction and follow curve of road to leisure club. Right again past club, then second left and is fourth house along.”

  “Thanks.”

  The houses seemed to get bigger and more elaborate the further they proceeded. Ava whistled softly. “It’s like Hollywood without the sunshine.”

  “This seems to be the most exclusive part,” Neal said with distaste.

  “They go for more than half a million,” Ava observed. “This is it,” she said, and they pulled up at a tall security gate, the only chink in a formidable brick wall. “A fortress within a fortress.”

  Ava jumped out of the car and pressed the buzzer on the intercom. The gates slid open and they drove up a blue-gravelled drive and round a circular island landscaped with shrubs and low-hanging trees.

  “Wow. Makes the Marshes’ place look like a slum, doesn’t it?”

  A woman stood waiting in the porch.

  “Mrs Cornish?” Neal asked. The woman shook her head, smiling.

  “Dana Schell. I’m the Cornishes’ domestic help.” Neal and Ava exchanged looks as she led them inside. She showed them into a large sitting room with a view of the lake. “Please wait in here.”

  “Bit showy, isn’t it?” Ava said, running her hand along the back of a sumptuous, black leather sofa. Everything in the room was black, grey or bright pink — an oblong zebra-striped rug, furry grey cushions, two very small, very pink chairs. One whole wall looked to be made of slate, though closer inspection revealed that it was in fact wallpaper. Another wall, made entirely of glass, looked out over a manicured lawn to the marina. True to its name, Crystal Lakes sparkled in the autumn sunshine.

  Neal looked around at the décor. “Tasteless.”

  “Designer tasteless.”

  A polite cough alerted them to Mrs Cornish’s presence. Ava coloured.

  “Gail Cornish. Thanks for coming. I might have some information for you, or I might not. Either way, I thought I should tell you what I know.” Neal nodded and introduced himself and Ava.

  Gail indicated for them to sit down. “I was shocked to hear about Russ,” she began, “but I’m not going to lie. Of late there’s been no love lost between my husband and him.”

  Ava smiled inwardly. Nothing like being direct, is there? Saves everybody time.

  “I knew it would get back to you sooner or later, so I thought it best to get it out in the open straightaway. You might as well know the truth from the outset. Last week, Russ and Paul had a fight. Here, in this very house, Russ Marsh threatened my husband’s life.” Gail’s eyes flashed in anger. “Russ actually told Paul he’d better, and I quote, ‘watch his back.’”

  Her voice shook. She took a moment to regain her composure. “Dana heard it too. You can ask her. I’m telling you, because I know that if the news got out and you thought we’d been keeping it from you, you’d look upon Paul as your prime suspect. That’s right, isn’t it? Paul would move right to the top of your list?”

  Ava assumed the question was rhetorical. “What was the disagreement between your husband and Russell Marsh about, Mrs Cornish?”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  This was a little surprising. “You just said you witnessed their argument,” Ava said.

  “Only the end of it. They were in the study. They started shouting, and I went to see what was going on. Dana must have heard them too, because she’d already come out of the kitchen.”

  “Did you discuss it with your husband afterwards?” Neal said.

  “Paul refused to talk about it. He said it was a stupid difference of opinion over something. It escalated quickly because they were both a bit drunk.”

  “Did they often fall out? Over the business? Or other things?” Neal asked.

  Gail reddened. After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “I expect this will come out with the rest of the dirty washing, so I’ll say it now. Russ and I slept together. Once. Two years ago. We were both drunk and, well, you know. It happened. I’m not proud of it. Paul found out. He forgave me, marched straight round to the Marshes’ place and punched Russ in the face.” A grimace.

  “Thank you for telling us about this, Mrs Cornish,” Neal said.

  “Are you involved with the business, Mrs Cornish?” Ava asked.

  Gail shook her head. “I used to be a physiotherapist but I gave it up when the business took off. We have four children, Sergeant. I’ve been kept busy.” She nodded at a poster-size photograph showing the Cornish family, all six of them, posed in their show home.

  “Oh. Yes. Nice. Is that a recent picture?” Ava asked.

  “It was taken six months ago. The twins, Rupert and Quentin, are at the Cathedral School studying for their A levels. Very clever boys.” Gail’s voice was full of pride.

  “Our daughter, Kitty, is at the same school. She’s fifteen. Very talented musically.”

  Her eyes came to res
t on the final Cornish child, a dark-eyed boy. Ava wondered why he’d been left to last.

  “Our other son is Hector. He’s the eldest. Twenty-three next month,” Gail said briskly.

  “Is he brainy too?” Ava asked. Her gaze lingered on the picture. The informal family portrait was clearly taken by a photographer who had artistic pretensions. It reminded her of the kind of portraits you see in glossy magazines.

  The twins looked bemused. Kitty, smoky-eyed, tousle-haired, pouted. Standing next to her rather bullish husband, Gail seemed diminished in stature. Hector stood behind his parents, looking like he belonged to an entirely different family. Of them all, he was the only one smiling, albeit ironically. All six were framed by the wide French windows overlooking the marina. Behind them, the sky was an ominous, muted grey, signifying an approaching storm.

  Gail bristled at Ava’s question. Was Hector the odd one out in the family? Ava wondered. After a moment’s pause, Gail said, “Hector has just graduated from Cambridge.”

  “Cambridge?” Gail mistook Neal’s exclamation for admiration, but Ava suspected that, like her, he was struck by the coincidence of the Cornishes’ son studying at the same university as the Marshes’ daughter.

  “Ruth Marsh went to Cambridge too, didn’t she?” Ava said.

  “Yes.”

  “So what’s Hector going to do next, then? Follow in his dad’s footsteps and become a financial wiz?” she asked.

  “Actually, yes. He’s starting a job soon. In the City.”

  Of course he is.

  “You must be very proud of him.”

  There was just the slightest delay before Gail said, “Yes, I am.”

  “And your husband? He must be proud of Hector too, I imagine.”

  “Er . . . yes. I suppose he is.” A sigh. “Paul and Hector aren’t on the best of terms at the moment.”

  So there were undercurrents in this family too. “Why’s that, Mrs Cornish?” Ava said.

  Gail looked irritated. No doubt at herself for revealing more than she’d needed to. “That’s a private family matter, Sergeant. It has nothing whatsoever to do with Russ Marsh’s death. I shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”

  Ava was about to say that in a murder investigation, nothing was private, but she bit back her words. Gail would learn this soon enough if the information proved to be relevant.

  Gail glared at Neal. “You and your sergeant seem to have sidetracked things. All I really wanted was to put you in the picture about certain matters, not indulge in family gossip.” She stood up, signalling that the visit was over. But Neal wasn’t finished.

  “We’ll need to interview your husband, Mrs Cornish.”

  Gail gave a curt nod. “Obviously. Paul’s a very busy man, Inspector Neal, but I appreciate you’ll need to talk to him about . . . things. Given that my husband and Russ Marsh were business partners, it’s pretty obvious really that . . . that Paul and the business will come under scrutiny.”

  Gail seemed to be falling apart in front of them. Her initial haughty demeanour had given way to uncertainty.

  “Are you okay, Mrs Cornish? Is there something else you want to tell us?” Ava asked.

  “No. It’s just . . . you know. All the upset.” Gail looked close to tears.

  “We’d like to question the young woman who let us in,” Neal said, “Dana, is it? You said she was present when your husband and Russ Marsh had their disagreement.”

  Gail called Dana, who arrived a little too promptly, as though she’d been listening at the door.

  “The officers would like to speak with you now, Dana,” Gail said.

  “In private,” added Neal. Gail hesitated, then left the room making a show of closing the door behind her.

  “Please, sit down,” Neal said to Dana.

  Ava looked at her. She seemed to be around her own age, or a bit younger. Dana had described herself as the Cornish family’s domestic help, but there had been a hint of irony in her tone. Ava wondered about her relationship with the various members of the household.

  “This won’t take long, Dana,” Neal said. “Perhaps you could begin by telling us how long you’ve worked for the Cornish family?”

  “Too long,” Dana said. Her voice had none of the affect of her employer. “I’ve been here about two years. I’m saving up to go travelling. They don’t pay much, but I get a nice room and all my meals provided, plus Gail — Mrs Cornish — has paid for me to join the gym and the other leisure facilities here.”

  “Wow,” Ava said. “Lucky you.” Ava was a fitness enthusiast. “Yet you’re counting down the days?”

  “The work’s dead boring and,” Dana lowered her voice, “you know the term ‘dysfunctional family?’ Doesn’t begin to describe this lot.”

  It seemed as though Dana wouldn’t take much prodding to spill all the Cornish family’s secrets.

  “Must be a bit weird when the Cornish kids are not much younger than you,” Ava commented. “Do they boss you about?”

  Dana snorted. “I’d like to see ’em try. Kitty’s a stuck-up cow, the twins are so clever it’s like they’re from another planet, and Hector . . .” A glance at the door. “Well, Hector’s okay sometimes, I suppose.”

  “And Mr and Mrs Cornish?”

  “Gail can be a bit . . . you know . . . can’t think of the word, sort of up and down: alright one minute, all wrong the next. You never know what mood she’s going to be in. She can be a real bitch when she’s got a mardy on. And between you and me, I don’t think her and Paul are all that . . . if you know what I mean?” Dana paused, possibly regretting having said too much. “Didn’t you say you wanted to ask me about that argument between Paul and that Russ Marsh?”

  Actually, they hadn’t. Not while Dana was in the room, at any rate. Ava noted that Dana had left Paul Cornish out of her appraisal of the family members. Why was that?

  “Did you witness the argument?” she asked.

  “Only the end of it, when they was shouting.” Dana had lowered her voice again. “Paul and Russ Marsh were in the study. I were in the kitchen, clearing up. I could hear their voices getting louder, so I came through into the hall to see what was going on. I could see the pair of them sort of puffing their chests out the way men do when they’re about to have a fight. Squaring up to each other. Russ’s face were bright red. He were sort of stabbing his finger at Paul’s chest. Not actually touching him, but, you know, being pretty aggressive.”

  They let Dana run on. She’d clearly found the whole incident exciting. Ava asked, “Were you able to make out anything that was said between them?”

  “No,” Dana said. A little too decisively? The men had been shouting, after all.

  “Nothing at all?” Ava said.

  “Something about money, maybe? Sorry, but I couldn’t catch what they was saying, really.”

  “Did you witness Mr Marsh making a threat against Mr Cornish?”

  Dana thought for a moment. “Yeah, he said something like, ‘You better watch your back, mate.’ It’s the sort of thing people say, in’t it, when they’re angry? I don’t think he really meant it.” A pause. “To be honest, it were more like a warning than a threat.”

  “Were any of the Cornish children in the house at the time?” Neal asked. Dana shook her head.

  “Do you know why Hector Cornish fell out with his dad?” he said.

  Dana looked slightly fazed by the abrupt change of subject. “No. No one tells me anything around here.”

  “Did Mrs Cornish and her husband socialise much with the Marsh family?” Ava asked, suddenly recalling Val’s assertion that they ‘used to socialise,’ and her hint that the families were no longer particularly close.

  “No.”

  “What do you think of the Marsh family? Did you ever meet their daughter, Ruth?”

  “I only met Mrs Marsh once. She seemed kind of . . . aloof? Is that the right word? Not chatty. Ruth lives in Cambridge. She’s my age but she’s got a kid. Mr Marsh came here occasionally. To ta
lk business with Paul, I suppose.”

  There was a knock at the door. Gail Cornish asked if they were nearly finished. Neal gave a nod. Gail looked at Dana. “I’d like you to drive into Stromford and pick up some things for me, Dana. When you’re ready.” In other words, now.

  Gail Cornish saw them to the door.

  “Thanks for the information,” Neal said. “We’ll be in touch. Just one more thing,” he added, sounding like Columbo. “Did Russ Marsh contact the police after your husband assaulted him that time over the affair?”

  “Assault is a bit over the top, Inspector. Paul gave him a black eye, that’s all. No, Russ didn’t report it. Maybe he felt he had it coming.”

  Gail closed the door almost as soon as Neal and Ava turned their backs.

  “If Paul had given her a black eye instead of Russ, I doubt she’d have felt she had it coming,” Ava remarked. “What a lot. Funny, isn’t it? Ruth Marsh didn’t speak to her father, Hector and his dad had a falling out. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? About the parents, I mean.”

  Neal was quiet. Maybe he was worrying about Archie falling out with him.

  “And did you notice the way Dana avoided saying what she thought of Paul Cornish? She was a bit evasive about Hector too. What was that all about?” Ava said.

  “Are you saying you think Dana might have been having an affair with Paul or Hector?” Neal gave a grimace of distaste.

  “Or both,” Ava answered, ignoring the look.

  Dana was certainly pretty enough. Gail Marsh must have been aware that the presence of a pretty young woman might lead to some sexual tension in a predominantly male household. Ava’s mind strayed to the bawdy comedy sketches on TV from years ago, involving au pairs and their employers. Her grandfather laughing at old Benny Hill videos . . . Paul Cornish chasing Dana around the kitchen table.

  “Dana’s probably right in describing the Cornish lot as dysfunctional, though I reckon the Marshes could give them a good run for their money. Come to think of it, most families would fit that description, mine included,” Ava said.