by Ann Granger
‘The view,’ returned the thin man simply.
Morton persevered. ‘Are you a visitor to the area?’
The man turned to look at him again, appearing faintly shocked. ‘Good heavens, no! I live in Weston St Ambrose.’ After a moment, during which he assessed Morton as Phil had him, he added, ‘My name is Purcell. If I may ask you a question in turn, are you by any chance connected with the police?’
‘Yes,’ admitted Morton. He fumbled in his jacket for his ID. Purcell looked at it and nodded but made no comment.
‘How did you guess?’ asked Morton, irked.
‘Stranger,’ said Purcell briefly. ‘Not a tourist.’ He pointed towards the line of trees in the distance. ‘Something to do with that business, I’m guessing.’
‘Correct, Mr Purcell. You weren’t out here the day it happened, by any chance? Didn’t hear a shot, perhaps? Or see anything unusual?’
‘Sorry,’ returned Purcell. ‘I wasn’t here that morning.’
Morton, whose ear was attuned to witnesses making statements, fancied a very slight hesitation on the other’s part. But it would be no use pressing the point. Purcell had returned to studying the view.
‘I’ve painted this scene many times,’ he said unexpectedly. ‘Always from this viewpoint and at all seasons of the year.’
‘Ah, you’re an artist, Mr Purcell?’ asked Morton, surprised.
‘Only an amateur,’ confessed Purcell a touch sheepishly. ‘I belong to a group. “Countryside Artists”, we call ourselves. All amateurs, but keen, you know.’
‘Nice to have the talent,’ said Morton.
‘Well,’ said Purcell, squinting at the view, ‘I was thinking of having another go at it, this landscape, but I’m not so sure I can improve on what I’ve done before.’ He took off his woollen hat, smoothed his thinning hair and pulled down the hat. ‘Nice to have chatted to you, Sergeant Morton,’ he said.
‘Likewise,’ said Morton. He watched the thin man step out briskly along the edge of the road.
Morton returned to his car and, as he drove past Purcell, raised a hand in farewell.
Purcell raised his hand in acknowledgement but did not slow his pace.
‘Rum lot around here,’ murmured Morton. ‘And cautious, too.’
‘Unlawful killing!’ Ian Carter had said to Jess earlier, as they left the coroner’s courtroom that morning. ‘What we expected, but it does now free us up to do what’s needed. Come on. I’ll buy you lunch and we’ll talk over where to take our investigation next.’
‘There’s a place about five miles down the road, The Crown,’ suggested Jess. ‘They do bar lunches but, honestly, I ate rather a lot last night with Tom. I took in a curry for us both.’
‘Ah, Dr Palmer,’ said Carter. ‘The man with the intermittent memory, who now remembers a mysterious blonde driving a black Range Rover who may well have been Mrs Kingsley. A great pity he didn’t think to mention it at the scene of the crime, before you interviewed that lady.’
‘He wouldn’t have forgotten to mention it at the scene, but for his cold and feeling muzzy,’ said Jess, in Tom’s defence.
‘Those symptoms didn’t put him off his food, though, did they? Neither did the grisly sight in the woods. Curry, indeed! Weren’t you put off your chicken madras?’
‘No,’ said Jess. ‘I just put Carl Finch out of my mind. If I brooded on every grim sight I saw in the course of a working day, I’d never eat.’
‘Point taken. But Palmer should have told you about the driver. You heard it all at the inquest. Someone blasted Mr Finch out of this world and then dumped him, artistically arranged, in Crooked Man Woods. So all we have to do now is find out who.’
‘Phil Morton’s gone out to talk to Mrs Briggs again. As soon as I hear from him, I’m going back to see Harriet, before she thinks up another version of events.’
She sounded so fierce that Carter cast her a quizzical look. ‘Well, here we are at the pub. Any idea what you’d like?’
A little later, when they had both settled for the ploughman’s platter, Jess said, ‘He was in the coroner’s court this morning. Captain Kingsley, I mean.’
‘I saw him. He scuttled out before we could speak. He’d call it making a strategic withdrawal.’ Carter gave a grunt of disapproval. ‘Gone home to confer with his wife. I’m afraid they may have had time to cook up a new story, as you suggested they will.’
‘Are we considering either of them as suspects?’
‘We have to put them at the top of the list. After all, Carl was being a nuisance, and had been one, it seems, since they married. There is that business of the will. Finch thought he was entitled to money – more money than he received. Kingsley was frank about the bad feeling between him and Finch and the trouble Finch caused them. He was so vehement about it I don’t know whether he realised that he was providing himself with an excellent motive for Finch’s murder!’
‘Double bluff?’ Jess speculated. ‘He’s so open and upfront about it all that we think he can’t possibly be guilty?’
Carter’s normally stern expression melted into a sudden grin, making him look much younger. ‘What a suspicious mind you have, Inspector Campbell! We know Kingsley’s own gun wasn’t the murder weapon, because we have that. We’ve checked out Kingsley’s shotgun, by the way, as a matter of routine. All licensed and nicely locked away in a good gun cupboard.’
‘He might have been able to get hold of another gun – the murder weapon – from somewhere,’ Jess suggested.
She was thinking: it’s the grey hair that makes Ian look older than he is. Makes him look more strait-laced, too. He’s really quite easy to get on with, but people who don’t know him very well are made nervous.
‘Certainly, but where, when, and from whom? The answers to that could be hard to find.’ The smile had gone, and he looked now, if anything, irritated. ‘The murder weapon appears to have been unlicensed, and I’m told it might be pretty old. The trouble is that, in the countryside, there are quite a few old weapons like that lying around, passed on from father to son, together with the general goods and chattels of the family home.’
‘So it could even have been a gun belonging to John Hemmings, Harriet’s father?’ Jess said excitedly. ‘Finch could have got hold of that!’
‘It’s a possibility. Listen.’ Carter sat back and pushed away his plate. ‘I’m going to get in touch with the Met today and make a trip up to London in the morning. You’d better come with me. We need to get a look inside the dead man’s home. We don’t have his keys, but we can now legally force an entry, or the Metropolitan Police can on our behalf. But I want to be there.
‘For now, you concentrate on the Kingsleys. Get the truth out of the pair of them and make them sign statements. They’ll soon realise it’s a mistake to try and make fools of the police!’
At the Old Nunnery, Guy Kingsley was making an identical announcement to his wife. ‘Unlawful killing!’ he announced. He pulled off his coat and threw it in the general direction of a sofa.
Harriet, from the depths of her father’s Queen Anne chair, whispered, ‘That means they believe it’s murder, don’t they?’
‘Yes, my sweet, it does.’ Guy dragged another chair nearer to his wife and sat down, leaning forward, with his forearms resting on his knees and his hands loosely clasped. ‘Look here, Hattie, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I don’t like being made a fool of!’
‘I haven’t tried to make a fool of you . . .’ His wife’s voice wobbled.
Kingsley drew a deep breath. ‘All right, all right. For pity’s sake, don’t cry!’ He reached out and took her hand in reassurance, but when he spoke his voice was still brisk.
‘Listen up, Hattie, you’ve got to tell me everything! Please don’t repeat any of that little drama you and Tessa put on for my benefit. I admit I was taken in. But now I know it was a load of codswallop. I don’t know what you and Tess are playing at, but it’s a mistake. This is murder! It would be bad enough if Carl had s
hot himself, but he didn’t. Someone else did. The police will be back here sooner rather than later, and this time they will want the truth. What’s more, they won’t be very happy at being given the runaround the last time they came. Any more than I am. So you’ve got to get up out of that chair and start acting sensibly.’
‘I didn’t kill him,’ Harriet said, still in a whisper.
‘My dear girl, I am not suggesting for one minute you blasted the poor blighter with a shotgun! I know you didn’t kill him. Come to that, neither did I, in case you’re wondering.’ Guy paused. ‘Did you think I might have done?’
‘No!’ Harriet sat up straight. ‘If you want to know, I was sure the coroner would rule suicide. Not that it wouldn’t still be an awful thing, as you said, and I’d feel responsible for not doing something to stop it. I do feel wretched about refusing to share out the money in the first place, years ago, when Dad died. I don’t mean that I’d have sold up and given Carl half. Just given him a bit more than Dad left him.’
‘Why, for pity’s sake? If your father had wanted him to have more, he’d have put that in the will!’
‘Carl thinks – Carl thought – Dad would have done, but for us persuading him not to.’
Guy said quietly, ‘Harriet, you can never buy off someone like Carl. No matter how much you’d given him at the time, he’d still have come back for more, as he did.’
‘I know.’ Harriet sounded resigned. ‘But knowing it doesn’t help. Anyway, I couldn’t have given him any more. I have, I admit, given him money in the past. But these projects of yours have cost us such a lot over the years that, when I told Carl this time we had none to spare, I was speaking the truth!’
Guy reddened. ‘This holiday accommodation plan – it’s going to work, Hattie.’
‘Yes, yes! Listen, Guy,’ Harriet said earnestly. ‘We mustn’t start squabbling over things like that. You’re right. I shouldn’t have misled you yesterday and I do need to tell you exactly what happened. But I can’t tell you who killed Carl because I can’t imagine that anyone would want to do that.’ Harriet put up a hand to tuck back an errant lock of fair hair. ‘Do you mind if I have a very small brandy first?’
‘Yes, of course. I could do with one, too!’ Guy got up and went to fetch two glasses.
‘Was it very unpleasant, at the inquest?’ Harriet asked when he came back.
‘Routine stuff, and it wasn’t a proper inquest, just a brief hearing. The police presented their evidence to date, the coroner agreed it was a case of – they don’t call it murder at this stage, just unlawful killing. The police have been given time to complete their enquiries. Investigate, in other words. When it’s all over, the coroner will rule finally. Now then, Hattie, let’s have it. Had you arranged to meet up with Carl that morning, in the woods?’
She nodded and sipped her brandy. ‘Before that, I need to explain why. I’d been having quite an exchange of emails with Carl. I didn’t tell you, because you’d have hit the roof.’
‘He wanted money again, I suppose?’
‘Yes, and he was sounding increasingly desperate. I do now realise there was some special reason for it, though he didn’t say what it was. I think he was afraid. At the time, I thought he was being extra difficult.’
‘You should have told me, sweetheart.’
‘What good would that have done? Sorry, Guy, it would just have been another row with Carl and, frankly, I was afraid you’d do something violent. I don’t mean shoot him, for pity’s sake! But you had threatened to throw him out of the house, using force if necessary. So I couldn’t let him come here.’
She paused before adding, ‘You know, Guy, that upset Carl very much, when you said you’d throw him out. This had been his home from the age of nine until – well, until we married, you and I. I know he had his place in London. But he’d always felt he had the right to come here, if he wanted. You can see his point of view, can’t you?’
‘I can see it, but I don’t agree with it. He had no right at all!’ Guy got up and went to pour himself another tot of brandy. He looked at her questioningly, holding up the bottle.
Harriet shook her head. ‘No, thanks. I’m all right now. I had to keep the two of you apart, Guy. To tell you the truth, I was afraid that Carl might turn violent. Not towards me. And I don’t mean using a weapon. I thought he might take a swing at you, and you’d have a real fight.’
‘So you fixed up to meet him somewhere else? Was it in Crooked Man Woods?’
He was doing his best, Harriet knew, to sound understanding, but he couldn’t help it. It was that military training. She still felt as if she’d been hauled up to face some sort of court martial. ‘Yes, I knew I had to have a meeting. I wanted to tell him, once and for all, to leave us alone. That we don’t have money to spare. I hoped finally to get him to understand that. But when I got there – to the woods – he was dead. I just – I just couldn’t believe it. He was sitting there, Guy, his face was half gone and—’
Her voice had begun to tremble again. She tossed back the remainder of the brandy. ‘Who would kill him, Guy? Why?’
‘We’re not the only people he was in dispute with, is my guess. For heaven’s sake, Hattie! Why did you call Tess, when you came rushing home? Why couldn’t you tell me?’
‘You were outside arguing with Derek Davies. I wanted tell someone – but I didn’t want to tell you I’d arranged to meet Carl behind your back. Of course I didn’t!’
‘All right.’ Guy made a placatory gesture. ‘I understand. I still wish – but if you didn’t, it’s my fault, I suppose. Yes, I would have gone with you and it would have been unpleasant.’
‘So I rang Tessa. She came at once and she – suggested I stay here and say nothing to you at all. She’d go back to the woods and “find” Carl.’ Harriet raised her hands and made quotation marks with her fingers. ‘She’d report it to the police and I wouldn’t be involved. It was a crazy plan, and it didn’t work because, when she got there, the police were already all over the place. She’d taken Fred along with her and he knew it was Carl. He ran over to – to the body, and starting howling.’
‘It was a crackpot plan,’ Guy agreed emphatically. ‘You wouldn’t have gone along with it if I’d had the slightest inkling what the pair of you were about! Blast Tess! Why couldn’t she mind her own business?’
‘Don’t be cross with Tessa, Guy. She was trying to help me.’
‘All right. We’ve got more important things to worry about now than Tess.’
‘Who – who did find him, Guy? How did the police get there so quickly? Tessa said she nearly fainted when she saw them all round the body.’
‘I somehow don’t imagine Tess fainting!’ Guy managed a brief grin. ‘It was a bit of – well, I won’t say bad luck. It was one of those quirks of fate that you can’t factor in when you’re planning something, as you and Tess found out. A chap called Dr Palmer was just walking in the woods and came across the body. Apparently, this Palmer sometimes does work for the police, so he knew the drill. That’s how they got there so quickly. He’d also decided, by the time they arrived, that Carl’s body had been moved. He hadn’t examined it. It was just something to do with Carl sitting on very wet ground and his clothing being too dry. Anyway, then there was a post mortem. Another doctor did that, and he found there was other evidence of the body being moved. They also called in firearms experts, who judged the fatal shot to have been fired from a couple of metres away. It had been fired from the shotgun found with the body. That had been wiped clean of prints and the murderer had tried to stick Carl’s prints on it – but that’s not easy and it was too clumsy a job to fool anyone. The coroner inevitably returned a verdict of unlawful killing.’
Harriet stood up. ‘I’d better ring Tessa and tell her.’
‘I’ve done that. I rang her from my mobile with the coroner’s ruling.’
‘I’ll call her anyway. The police will want her to make another statement, won’t they?’ Harriet scrambled from the chair.
‘I must speak to her first, tell her I’ve spoken to you and explained it all.’
‘Oh, my, yes!’ Guy sounded almost satisfied. ‘The cops will want to speak to Tess.’
But when Harriet returned after calling Tessa, she looked so dismayed that he jumped up. ‘What’s happened now?’
‘They’ve been to see Tessa already,’ she said miserably.
‘Both Superintendent Carter and Inspector Campbell were in court this morning!’ Guy scowled. ‘How did they get over to Tessa’s place so fast?’
‘It was that sergeant of theirs, the big chap with the sour expression. The one who talked to Tessa here, out in the garden. He’s been again. The police know, Guy! They know I was at the woods and found Carl. Oh, Guy, whatever are we going to do?’
There was the sound of a vehicle drawing up outside. Guy went to the window.
‘No time to discuss it any more now, love, the law is back here already. It’s that woman with the red hair.’
Chapter 8
‘I feel a fool,’ Harriet said to Jess Campbell. ‘I can only plead circumstances. I was very shocked when I found my brother. It knocked commonsense out of my head. I would never have agreed to Tessa’s plan otherwise.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘I really am very, very sorry.’
Strike while the iron is hot. Jess was following this excellent principle. She’d driven out to the Old Nunnery after hearing from Phil Morton that Tessa Briggs had admitted originally learning of the body in the woods from Harriet. Phil had been cock-a-hoop about getting Tessa to own up, and rightly so, thought Jess. Now, she had every intention of forestalling any attempt by the Kingsleys to cook up another plan of action of their own. They hadn’t been pleased to see her, but they hadn’t been surprised, either.
Jess began, ‘I hope, Mrs Kingsley—’ But she got no further.
‘If there is any blame, it should be put at my door,’ Guy Kingsley interrupted loudly. ‘I did not at first know that Hattie and Tessa Briggs had invented any story to put me off. My wife did not want me to know she’d arranged to meet Carl. She thought I would be angry, and I would have been. We’ve told you why. Carl was a bloody nuisance and always after money. He and I had several heated exchanges about it. I had told him to stay away from the house. But Hattie has told me all about it now, and if anyone, other than myself, is to blame, it’s Tessa, although even she had the best of motives, I’m sure.’