Rooted in Evil:

by Ann Granger

  Behind them all, in the hall, Guy had overheard, and they heard him exclaim, ‘Nancy! I might have guessed she was at the root of all this!’

  Harriet had wrapped her arms around herself and was swaying to and fro.

  Natalie demanded of her, ‘Can you imagine what that meant to me?’

  Harriet whispered, ‘Yes.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to lose him again! It took me ages to track Carl down, and there were gaps when I couldn’t devote as much time to the hunt as I wanted because of other commitments. But three years ago, I found him!’ Nancy’s voice rose in triumph. ‘When I told him who I was, do you know what he did? He cried. He told me all about himself, and how happy he’d been after Nancy married John Hemmings, because he had a great childhood here in this house, and John had treated him in every way as a son. Then, when Hemmings died, the ground just collapsed under his feet. He’d been cut off with a measly sum and just abandoned by that other sister – her.’ Natalie pointed at the cowering Harriet. In a voice that echoed with hate she said, ‘I believe she killed him. Or her husband did. I’d found my brother, and she – she took him away from me again!’

  So fascinated had they been by this story that all of them were watching Natalie. Harriet was temporarily ignored. Now, the Queen Anne chair rocked on its feet as Harriet was suddenly galvanised into action, leaping up and pushing it away from her. She crossed the room, darting past them before they could stop her. A second later and she was through the open door and in the hall beyond.

  ‘Stop her!’ Carter shouted.

  Morton was still gripping Natalie by the arm. The few seconds it took to release her and turn to pursue Harriet were enough for Harriet to reach the open front door. But there, she came face to face with Guy Kingsley.

  Guy shouted, ‘Hattie, darling, no!’ He stepped forward, his arms held wide open to stop her running out of the house.

  Harriet whirled and fled away from him, across the hall and up the wide staircase.

  ‘What the hell—’ muttered Carter, as he and Jess started in pursuit. ‘Where’s she going?’

  He, Jess, Morton, Natalie and Guy were now all in the hall, and tangled together. Carter was bellowing at Morton to take Natalie outside. Jess tore herself from the group and raced up the staircase. She could hear the thud of Harriet’s feet above her head, climbing higher and higher. When Jess turned the newel post at the top of the stair on to the upper floor, she had a fleeting sight of Harriet at the far end of a long corridor, beginning to climb another, narrower staircase.

  Jess ran down the corridor, realising that Guy was at her heels. He was shouting to his wife to stop. But by the time they reached the small staircase, Harriet had got to the top, where there was a door. She pushed it open, dived through it and slammed it in their faces, seconds before Jess could grasp her. They heard the click of a key turned in the lock.

  ‘Harriet!’ Jess shouted. She rattled the handle of the door, fruitlessly. ‘Harriet, open the door!’

  She turned to the panting Guy and demanded, ‘What’s up there?’

  ‘Former maids’ rooms, and the rest of the attic.’

  When the Kingsleys had spoken of old furniture and unwanted items stored in the attic, Jess had automatically imagined one long, large open space. But, of course, a house this size had had, years ago, a permanent staff. Bedrooms for them had been created above their heads, beneath the roof.

  Carter had caught up with them.

  ‘She’s locked herself in the attics,’ Jess told him briefly. ‘Where’s Natalie?’

  ‘Morton’s taken her outside to give into the charge of Bennison and Nugent.’ He glared at Guy. ‘Have you got a key?’

  ‘For the attics? No, there’s only the one, and it’s kept in the lock. Well, there might be another – probably is – but I have no idea where.’ Guy’s expression was one of desperation, but also resolve. ‘I’ll break the door down.’

  ‘That will spook her even more,’ Jess argued. ‘We’ll try and persuade her to open it.’

  ‘You don’t understand!’ Guy burst out. ‘She’d have time to get out.’

  Carter asked quickly, ‘There’s a second point of access? Where?’

  Guy shook his head, his face desperate. ‘There’s no other way in. There is a way out! It’s through a trapdoor in the ceiling. It lets you get out on to the roof.’

  Pounding footsteps announced the arrival of Morton. ‘She’s in the car, and Tracy is doing her best to calm her down,’ he said. ‘Where’s Mrs Kingsley?’

  Jess pointed to the locked door. ‘In the attics. We’ll have to break the door down if she won’t open up and come out.’ In a lower voice, she added, ‘She’s able to get out on to the roof, and she’s very distressed.’

  She turned back to the door and knocked on it. ‘Harriet? It’s Jess Campbell. We understand you’re scared, but just open the door and we can talk.’

  There was no reply. Carter asked Kingsley, ‘What is the roof like? Very steep?’

  ‘It slopes from the eaves up to the chimney pots. But the incline isn’t too bad and, if you slip, there is a parapet. It’s not very high, but it would stop anyone working up there – doing repairs, or maybe a chimney sweep in the old days – from falling right off. But it’s only a low parapet. Anyone could climb over it,’ Guy told him miserably.

  ‘You think your wife might climb over it and jump off?’

  ‘She’s bloody scared!’ Guy snapped. ‘You’ve frightened her out of her wits, and that damn woman claiming to be Carl’s natural sister was the last straw!’

  ‘Go down and outside, Sergeant,’ Carter ordered. ‘See if you can spot her up there on the roof and phone up to us her exact position.’

  ‘Yes, sir!’ Morton clattered away.

  ‘We need a trained negotiator,’ Carter said to Jess.

  ‘With respect, there’s no time to wait for that,’ Jess replied.

  ‘Of course we can’t hang about here doing nothing while you wait for some other person to get here from miles away!’ Guy exploded. ‘Hattie!’ he roared at the door. ‘Hattie, please, open up and let me in!’

  From the other side of the door came a clatter, and they held their breaths. But Hattie didn’t come to the door. Then Jess’s phone jangled.

  ‘She’s climbing out on to the roof!’ Morton’s voice said in her ear. ‘I can see her head and shoulders.’

  But Guy had overheard. He lunged forward, hurling himself at the door, and it splintered around the lock and flew open. Carried forward by his weight and impetus, Guy tumbled through it, blocking the space for the others. By the time they had scrambled into the attics, Harriet had disappeared.

  The trapdoor was open, and a ladder leading up to it had been pulled down. Light was pouring through the open hatch, together with a cold fresh breeze sweeping through the attics.

  ‘She’s on the roof,’ Jess muttered to Carter. ‘We can’t wait for a negotiator.’

  ‘If one of you goes up there, you’ll spook her even more and she – she could do something . . .’ Guy’s voice stammered into silence. ‘Let me,’ he begged. ‘Let me talk to her.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ said Jess quietly. ‘It’s my job.’

  Unexpectedly, Guy replied in a quite a different tone, calm, authoritative. ‘Sorry, Inspector Campbell, but it really is mine, you know.’

  Before she could prevent it, he had dodged past her and Carter, crossed the floor and was climbing the short hatch ladder.

  Jess started after him, but Carter caught her arm. ‘If Harriet hears a scuffle, it will unsettle her even more. We have to let him try.’

  ‘Phil?’ Jess put her phone to her ear. ‘Can you see her now?’

  ‘Yes,’ came Morton’s voice in her ear. ‘She’s standing just above the eaves, behind a sort of ornamental stone parapet, not very high. She’s just staring out. Hang on a minute, someone else is coming through the hatch, a man – it looks like Kingsley!’

  ‘It is Kingsley,’ Jess told him.
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  ‘Damn!’ muttered Carter beside her. ‘We should have prevented him.’

  ‘He’s talking to her,’ said Morton’s voice.

  ‘How near is he to her?’

  ‘Too far away to grab her. He’s just talking to her.’

  In the attic, at the foot of the ladder leading up to the roof, Carter and Jess held their breath and strained to catch the sound of Guy’s voice. It came faintly, drifting down from above their heads.

  ‘Take my hand, darling. Just move a little to your left and you’ll be able to do that. I won’t move. I’ll stay here. Hattie?’

  Then Harriet’s voice, even fainter, replying, ‘It shouldn’t have happened. I didn’t want it to happen. It was an accident.’

  ‘Of course you didn’t mean it, darling. Nobody believes that you did. I don’t care what happened at the woods. You were under great stress, and Carl was a fool. He should have kept away. Hattie? I don’t care what you did, we can sort it out, but please, just move a little to your left so I can take your hand.’

  ‘He’s holding out his hand,’ said Morton’s voice in Jess’s ear. ‘But she’s not moving. She’s still standing there like a blooming statue, staring out.’

  Then Harriet’s voice again, asking, unexpectedly, ‘Where is that woman?’

  ‘Natalie?’ Guy sounded surprised but then went on calmly, ‘The police have taken her into custody. You don’t have to worry about her any more.’

  ‘Is she really Carl’s sister?’

  ‘She says so.’

  ‘How much she must hate me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t let that trouble you, Hattie. She’s a pretty fierce sort of person and probably has a list of people she hates. They probably can’t stand her! Come on, Hattie. Does it matter? About Natalie? I’m here, and I love you. Does anything else matter?’

  Morton’s voice spoke in Jess’s ear again: ‘She’s turned her head towards Kingsley. Otherwise, she hasn’t moved, but she does seem to be paying attention to what he’s saying.’

  Kingsley pleaded, ‘For my sake, Hattie, please? Forget the others, they don’t matter. They never did.’

  Morton, his voice full of suppressed emotion, hissed, ‘She’s moving! I think, yes, she is! She’s edging towards Kingsley – oh, hell!’

  ‘What’s happening?’ Jess demanded.

  ‘She’s wobbling . . . she looks as if she’s going to faint . . . she’s tipping forward . . .’

  There was a scrabbling from above their heads, the sounds breaking into the quiet, like a salvo of gunfire. Carter called up the ladder, ‘Kingsley! I’m coming up there.’

  Then Guy’s voice in reply, panting but triumphant, ‘No, no, it’s OK. I’ve got her. There isn’t room for another person. Come on, Hattie, bear up! I’ll guide you. Hold me and put your foot on the top rung . . .’

  So they descended, Harriet clinging to each rung of the ladder with a limpet grip and having to be cajoled into descending to the next lower one. At last, both she and Kingsley had reached the bottom rung and then the solid floor.

  ‘OK, Phil,’ said Jess into her phone. ‘She’s down safely. If anyone asked for a trained negotiator, cancel it.’

  Chapter 16

  ‘I’ve been trying to think,’ Harriet said, crinkling her forehead, ‘when it started. I suppose Carl began to ask for money as soon as the terms of my father’s will were known. But I knew that Carl’s envy and resentment had begun much earlier. For a while, I thought it started when I married Guy. Now I wonder if it was always there, even when we were children and I thought we were such good friends. It’s a terrible thought.’

  ‘It’s hard to know what’s going on in another person’s mind,’ Jess told her.

  To herself, Jess was thinking, it started when John Hemmings met Nancy and her little boy on that train.

  They sat in the small interview room, Carter and Jess on one side of the small table, Harriet and her solicitor on the other. The solicitor was an elderly man with silver hair and a moustache. His attitude towards his client seemed fatherly. Family friend as well as family legal advisor, thought Jess. He must have known Harriet most of her life. Natalie guessed right about that. Or Carl told her the truth about that small point, at least.

  As for Harriet, she looked pale but seemed calm, almost resigned. It’s easier for her now we all know about it, Jess’s thoughts ran on. Concealing what she’d done was worse, much worse, an intolerable strain. That’s what sent her up on to the roof. I wonder, if Guy hadn’t talked her down, I could have done it, or even a trained negotiator, if one could have been brought there in time.

  Aloud, she said, ‘Let’s start with Carl’s last request for money.’

  Harriet had seemed sunk in thought. Now she stirred and looked up. ‘I’d told him so often,’ she told them earnestly. ‘I couldn’t give him any more money. Guy and I – Guy’s projects have cost us a lot. We’ve been hoping the guest accommodation plan would earn some of it back. But all the building work, furnishing the apartments – everything cost more than we’d originally expected. More than the money, Carl’s continual grumbling and pestering threatened my relationship with my husband. Guy couldn’t stand Carl. It was a mutual thing. I always knew Carl hated Guy. I suppose it was jealousy. At first I thought he was jealous because I cared more for Guy than I did for him. But then I began to realise it went deeper. He envied what we had – chiefly, the house. The house represented something special to him. I suppose it was security. Something he wanted and couldn’t have. But in the end, I have to accept it was basically about money.’

  ‘It very often is,’ said Ian Carter. ‘But this last time, you said, you were determined not to give Carl any more.’

  ‘That’s right. I couldn’t, and I didn’t want to. What Guy had said from the first was true. Every time I helped Carl out, it encouraged him to think I always would. He’d begun to consider it his right. He’d always said we influenced my father at the end of his life, but that’s not true. My father had underestimated Carl, that’s all.’

  She fell silent again. The solicitor leaned towards her and asked quietly, ‘All right, my dear?’

  Harriet nodded. ‘This time, I meant to make him really understand that the days when he could come to me with his money troubles were over. I knew it would be difficult. He was begging me to help him. I believe he was scared. But I had made up my mind so I hardened my heart and told him “no”.’

  She paused. ‘I didn’t mean to kill him,’ she said, looking them full in the face. ‘I never meant to do that. You have to believe me. I didn’t even know the gun was loaded.’

  How many times have I heard that? thought Carter sadly. She might not have meant to shoot him dead; perhaps only fire a warning shot or to signal her resolve not to give way. But she’d fired and Carl was dead. He realised that Harriet was looking at him entreatingly, wanting him to say he believed her. But the truth of her claim would be tested in court, and the decision would not be his.

  When he said nothing, Harriet plunged on. ‘He was a dreadful nuisance, and I knew he was behaving badly, but I loved him, despite it all. But I still had to say I couldn’t give any money. “Tough love”, they call it, don’t they? He insisted on coming to Gloucestershire to see me; and I knew I had to face him. Every time that happened, it ended with my giving in. So I had to do something to make him understand how determined I was.

  ‘That’s when I remembered my grandfather’s old gun and where Dad had hidden it, in the secret cupboard. He didn’t want Nancy to see it, you understand. If he’d put it in a normal gun cupboard, she’d have known about it and insisted he got rid of it. But he didn’t want to do that because it had been his father’s.’

  ‘So you arranged to meet Carl in Crooked Man Woods?’ Carter prompted.

  ‘Yes, so that Guy wouldn’t know. I didn’t want Tessa to know, either. She was as difficult as Guy about Carl. I arranged to meet him on the access road the maintenance workers use. This time of year, there isn’t much going on in that l
ine and I was fairly certain no one else would be parked there.’

  She spread out her hands in a gesture of resignation. ‘It went exactly as I’d dreaded it would. Carl refused to accept anything I said. He started on about Dad’s will again. He was horrible about Guy. I had to do something. I turned and ran back to my car, grabbed the shotgun from the back seat, where I’d put it – and I pointed it at him.’

  ‘That must have given him a shock!’ observed Carter.

  ‘I meant it to give him a shock. I wanted to make him understand I really wouldn’t put up with his nonsense any longer. He was startled for a moment. Then, he asked, “Where the hell did you get that antique, Hattie?” and he laughed. Just laughed! I felt stupid and angry and – hopeless. Wasn’t there anything I could do to make him understand?

  ‘Then he shrugged and said: “Oh, all right, I can see there’s no use talking to you now.” He walked back to his car and opened the driver’s side door. If he’d just got in and driven off, it would have been all right. But he paused and turned to face me, and called out, in such a casual way, “We’ll discuss it again when you’ve calmed down.”

  ‘I yelled, “No, we won’t!” The gun jumped in my hand – and it went off.’

  There was a longer silence. Harriet drank some water. The solicitor asked her again if she wanted to go on, or to recommence later.

  ‘No, I can go on,’ she said. ‘I just want to tell it all now. He fell back into the car. I ran up to him . . . his face – his face was dreadful. The lower half of it was a red mash. Above that his eyes were open, and he looked so surprised. But I knew he was dead. If he’d still been alive and badly injured, I’d have called an ambulance, I really would! But he was dead and I was standing there with a corpse.