He raised his voice and called, ‘Mrs Wood?’ then knocked at the door on the left, confident that that was where he would find her.
SEVENTEEN
Thanet put his head around the door. ‘May we come in, Mrs Wood? Don’t be alarmed, it’s the police. We showed our identification to your neighbour and she told us where to find the key.’
‘Come on in.’
The figure in the bed by the window was so thin and frail that she barely made a hump in the bedclothes. He must surely have been wrong in his estimate of her age, thought Thanet. This woman was in her seventies. She must have borne her daughter much later than he had guessed. Her straight white hair had been cut short by an inexpert hand and her skin was so pale as to be almost translucent. Her hands were pitifully swollen and gnarled with disease. On top of the bedspread lay a lightweight aluminium walking stick and beside the bed was a cluttered bedside table, a walking frame and a commode. The room was large and had evidently once been a sitting room, but the temperature in here didn’t seem to be much higher than it was in the hall; a solitary bar glowed on the electric fire which had been put in the middle of the floor, facing the bed. A portable television was running and an advertisement was urging viewers to book now for a winter sunshine holiday.
Mrs Wood invited them to sit down. A couple of chairs had been placed near the bed, for visitors.
When they were settled, Thanet said, ‘I don’t know if you’ve heard, but a former lodger of yours died the other day …’
An extraordinary change came over Mrs Wood’s face. Her eyes glittered and a tide of red, startling against the colourless hair and washed-out nightgown, flowed up towards her hairline.
If her physical condition had allowed it she would have clenched her hands into fists, Thanet thought, watching the misshapen fingers curl. There was something, then. His scalp prickled with excitement.
The colour had ebbed as swiftly as it had appeared, leaving her skin more devoid of colour than ever. ‘Zak Randish, you mean,’ she said. ‘Oh yes, I heard about that all right. Murdered, wasn’t he.’ And she smiled, a small, cold, satisfied smile.
There was somehow something shocking about this pathetic old lady displaying such vindictiveness, thought Thanet, though why that should be he wasn’t quite sure. ‘I wonder,’ he said, ‘would it be possible to turn the television off for a while?’
The remote control was to hand and after a couple of abortive attempts, Mrs Wood managed to stab the correct button. ‘It’s no more than he deserved, I’m sure,’ she announced loudly into the ensuing silence.
While they waited for her to turn the set off Thanet had noticed that on the bedside table, with their backs to him, were a couple of photographs. Would one of them be of Elaine? he wondered. How could he get a look at them? ‘You obviously didn’t like him,’ he said, half his attention on the photographs and aware that this was an understatement if ever there was one.
‘I hated him!’ she said vehemently. ‘He killed my daughter!’
She wasn’t even looking at them to gauge the effect of this announcement but was gazing fiercely into space, focused upon some inner vision that had nothing to do with their presence here. Thanet and Lineham raised eyebrows at each other and shrugged. Neither of them believed she had meant it literally. Then she seemed to become aware of her surroundings again and her eyes wandered over the bed, her pathetic hands, the single-bar electric fire and finally Thanet and Lineham. ‘I wouldn’t be stuck here like this now, all alone, if it wasn’t for him. I’d still have my Jill to look after me.’
‘How is that?’ said Thanet. He recognised the signs. People who lived alone, especially those who were elderly and incapacitated, were almost invariably eager to talk, usually about whatever it was that they spent their time brooding upon – their health, a grievance, their memories. Once launched, the occasional question here and there was all that was necessary to prompt them into further elaboration. He sensed Lineham beside him going into what he thought of as the sergeant’s invisible mode; over the years, when Lineham judged that a witness was about to open up, he had developed the knack of fading into the background. Still as a statue, only the occasional blink betrayed the fact that he was alert and absorbing everything that was going on. Whenever Thanet was stuck with an inexperienced officer who fidgeted, coughed, scribbled ostentatiously and generally distracted the witness he thought longingly of this trick of Lineham’s and wished that it was part of standard training procedure.
Her tale was much what he expected. A boyfriend had ‘taken advantage’ of Jill when she was fifteen and had dropped her flat when he heard she was pregnant. Not long before that a neighbour had had an abortion that had gone wrong and been desperately ill, so Jill had refused even to consider having one. Around that time her father died and she and her mother had had to think of some means of earning money. They had decided to take in students from the nearby agricultural college. A number of local people did this, and it would mean that Jill could stay at home and look after the baby when it arrived. In fact, later on, when Linny went to school, Jill got a job in a shop in Lewes.
Thanet pricked up his ears, wished again that he could take a look at those photographs. This was the first time the child’s name had been mentioned, its gender even hinted at. Linny sounded like a girl’s name and could well be an abbreviation of Elaine. He would ask later if necessary. The old lady was well launched and he didn’t want to interrupt the flow.
All went well until Zak arrived, at the beginning of the third and final year of his course. During his first year he had been in college residential accommodation; during his second he had been living on the farm on which he had been doing his year’s practical experience. Until then Jill, wary of men after that early, disastrous experience, had not taken much interest in the opposite sex, but reading between the lines Thanet gathered that one look at Zak had changed all that. According to Mrs Wood, of course, it was Zak who had made all the running.
‘Promised to marry her, he did,’ she said bitterly.
Wishful thinking, thought Thanet. In view of Zak’s long-term plans for the future he very much doubted Randish had ever had any such intention. Alice Randish, with her father’s spreading acres, would be a much more enticing proposition.
‘She couldn’t believe it when, after he left, she didn’t hear a single word from him. She waited and waited, wrote him time and time again, but never a word from him did she hear. She was beside herself. It was awful to see her watching and waiting for the postman every day, I got so that I’d wake up in the mornings feeling sick to think of her disappointment when there was no letter for her yet again. In the end she said to me, “There’s nothing for it, Mum, I’ll just have to go and see him. Perhaps he’s ill, perhaps he’s broken his arm and can’t write …” And perhaps pigs might fly, I thought to myself. I didn’t say so, of course, it wouldn’t have done any good, but I saw from the first what he was like, with his smarmy ways. A real ladies’ man, that’s what. If he ever got married I bet his wife had a terrible time of it. Anyway, I did try to persuade Jill not to go. I guessed it would end badly. But she wouldn’t listen, go she would. So she went. And I never saw her again.’
‘What happened?’ said Thanet, startled into a direct question.
‘She crashed the car on the way home, on that big hill the other side of Etchingham. She was killed instantly, they said.’
‘Are you suggesting it wasn’t an accident?’
‘No one knows.’ Mrs Wood was shaking her head, the tears coming to her eyes. ‘No one will ever know.’ She groped blindly for a box of tissues on her bedside table and Thanet handed them to her. Clumsily she pulled one out, dabbed the tears away. ‘Thanks. But it makes no difference, don’t you see? Whether it was a genuine accident or whether she … she did it on purpose, it was him what killed her. If it was an accident, it was because she was so upset after seeing him. She was a good driver, careful …’
Even the best of drivers can have ac
cidents, Thanet knew, but he could see that there was no point in saying so. Mrs Wood’s ideas were too deeply entrenched for a brief conversation with a stranger to alter them even slightly. And after all, it was quite likely that she was right. Even if Jill Wood had not intended to kill herself, her concentration may well have been poor after a final rejection by Zak. ‘I expect your granddaughter was a comfort to you,’ he said, pleased that his patience had been rewarded and he had at last been able to introduce the subject which had brought them here.
And as he had hoped her response confirmed that the child had been a girl.
‘She was only ten! What can you expect from a child of that age, especially when she’s so upset herself? Still, you’re right. She was a comfort. Until she went away to college, that is. Mind, I wouldn’t have wanted to hold her back. She’s done very well.’ Mrs Wood began to grope for one of the photographs. ‘That’s her, there.’
Thanet leaned forward with alacrity to help her. As he turned the photograph around a thrill of triumph shot through him. There was no doubt about it, this was Elaine Wood, a little younger, perhaps, but instantly recognisable. He held it out for Lineham to see. ‘She’s a beautiful girl.’
Mrs Wood fumbled for the other photograph. ‘And that’s her mother.’
Further confirmation. This was definitely the girl he had thought might be Elaine’s mother. ‘They’re very alike.’ He passed the second photograph to Lineham, who held them side by side to compare the two young women. ‘I suppose your granddaughter is very much the same age now as your daughter was when that was taken.’
‘Yes, she is. She’s doing very well. Works with them new-fangled computer things.’
‘How did she get on with Mr Randish when he was here?’
‘Oh, all right. He went out of his way to worm himself into her good books, so she wouldn’t make things difficult for him with her mum. And, of course, she’d never had a father, so she did tend to make a beeline for the men. But after Jill died I made sure Linny knew it was all his fault Oh yes, I made sure of that all right.’
‘Does she come to see you often?’
‘Whenever she can get away. It’s difficult for her, she doesn’t work locally. She works in …’ Mrs Wood broke off, stared first at Thanet, then at Lineham, then at Thanet again. At first welcoming the distraction of visitors and then becoming engrossed in her story, until this moment she had not really questioned the reason for their presence. Now, perhaps, she had sensed danger for the first time. ‘Where … Where did you say you were from?’
‘From Sturrenden. We are investigating Mr Randish’s murder.’
‘Why have you come to see me?’
She had talked so freely until now that Thanet was certain she had no idea that her granddaughter had been involved with Randish. If he told her, he would perhaps cause her a great deal of unnecessary distress. If it turned out that Elaine had in fact killed Zak then that distress would be unavoidable. Meanwhile it would be best to keep her in ignorance. ‘Naturally,’ he said, ‘we are trying to talk to everyone who knew him.’
He stood up and watched her relax a little at the thought that they were leaving. ‘It’s a pity your granddaughter doesn’t live nearer. She might have been able to help you more.’ Why wasn’t Elaine doing more for her grandmother, anyway? With her qualifications there would surely have been plenty of jobs available in Lewes or Brighton. Not that it was any of his business, but still …
The old lady had sensed his unspoken criticism and was shaking her head. ‘I’m here because I want to be. I always said I didn’t want to go into a nursing home, I’d die in my own bed. And that’s what I’m going to do.’
‘It must be very difficult for you.’
‘I manage.’ She waved a hand. ‘People come. I get meals on wheels, and the district nurse comes in to bath me.’ She scowled at Thanet. ‘I wouldn’t want Linny ruining her life for my sake. You’re only young once, and you should be free to enjoy it.’
Outside Thanet was thankful to see that it had stopped raining.
Lineham said, ‘You got into her bad books there, sir. Daring to hint at criticism of her precious Linny.’
‘I did it on purpose, to distract her, as I’ve no doubt you realised, Mike. Anyway, I don’t know about you, but my feet have gone numb.’
‘Mine too.’
‘Early lunch, I think. I wonder if that pub back there has a fire. What was it called?’
‘The Half Moon.’
‘That’s right. Let’s go and find out.’
They were in luck. As soon as they stepped through the door a blissful warmth enveloped them. The Half Moon had not one fire but two, a woodstove at one end, near the dartboard and billiard table, and an open fire at the other. Best of all, there was an empty table near the latter.
‘What d’you think that means?’ Lineham nodded at the smoke-blackened concrete lintel over the fire, on which some words had been chiselled.
WOOD FEEDS FIRE WORDS IRE.
‘Ire means anger, doesn’t it?’ said Thanet.
‘Ah. I see. Life would be pretty boring if we all took a vow of silence, though, wouldn’t it?’ Lineham stretched out his feet to the welcoming warmth. ‘Wish I could take my socks off!’
‘I don’t think you’d be too popular with the landlord!’
They contented themselves with eating something hot – home-made moussaka – and allowing the heat to soak into their bones. Afterwards, Thanet sat back and lit his pipe, watching his wet trousers steaming gently. ‘That’s better.’ He waited until his pipe was drawing properly and then said, ‘Well, Mike?’
‘OK, sir, so I owe you an apology. You were right. But I’ll tell you this. Although I didn’t like Elaine Wood and, frankly, I wasn’t too keen on her grandmother, either, I do hope she’s not our murderer. She’s all the old lady’s got.’
‘I think it must be advancing years that are turning you soft, Mike. First you say you hope it wasn’t Fester, now you say you hope it wasn’t Elaine. Are there any other candidates you’d like to put out of the running?’
‘Oh, all right, sir. So I’m going soft. You may not be saying so, but by your past record I bet you feel exactly the same underneath.’
Thanet laughed. ‘Touché. But in any case, you have to admit now that Elaine does have a motive.’
‘A real classic, isn’t it: revenge for the death of her mother. Yes. I’m sure old Mrs Wood would have missed no opportunity over the years to make sure Elaine had got the message. And Elaine would have recognised Randish the minute she saw him, don’t you think? Between their twenties and their thirties people don’t change all that much.’
‘She might have realised who he was before that, Mike, if she’d heard his name before she went out to the vineyard, which is quite likely. It’s pretty unusual, after all.’
‘So she might have been on her guard. The question is, would he have recognised her?’
‘She would have changed a lot, between ten and twenty-five. If he did, it would be because of her resemblance to her mother.’
‘As you pointed out, sir, she is very much the same age as her mother was when Randish knew her.’
‘Quite.’
‘Her surname might have rung a bell, too.’
‘If he heard it, Mike. You know how informal people are these days. She was probably only referred to as Elaine. And that wouldn’t have meant anything to him if he only knew her as Linny.’
‘Perhaps he did recognise her, sir. Perhaps it added spice to the situation, as far as he was concerned.’
‘Possibly, yes. In any case, if either of them did recognise the other, I wonder if they let the other person know. Quite an intriguing situation, really. What d’you think?’
Lineham considered. ‘I’d say that he might have, but she probably wouldn’t have.’
Thanet tapped his pipe out on the ashtray. ‘Come on, let’s go and find out.’
EIGHTEEN
On the way back to Sturrenden the weather
was at its most capricious: periods of brilliant sunshine followed by heavy outbursts of rain. On one occasion visibility became so poor that Lineham pulled in to the side of the road until the worst was over.
The heater was on in the car but both men were still uncomfortably aware of damp feet, and Thanet decided that before going to Compu-Tech to interview Elaine and question Fester about the lie he had told it would be sensible to go home and change. He would collect his raincoat, as well.
They called at Thanet’s house first, Lineham electing to wait in the car. In the hall Thanet almost fell over a pair of discarded trainers lying in the middle of the floor – Bridget’s, presumably. He picked them up to move them out of the way. It looked as though she had been caught in a downpour too. They were sodden, the patterned soles caked with mud and embedded with pieces of gravel and even a splinter of glass. What on earth had she been up to?
‘Dad! What are you doing home? For a minute I thought we had burglars!’
Bridget had appeared at the top of the stairs, a towel wound around her head.
‘We got soaked, like you.’ Thanet waggled the trainers at her.
‘Oh, sorry. I was going to put them in the kitchen to dry as soon as I’d changed. I wasn’t expecting anyone else home for hours yet.’
‘I’ll put them on the mat by the back door.’ Thanet did so, first picking out the fragment of glass in case Bridget didn’t notice it and cut herself. He dropped it in the waste bin, then hurried upstairs.
A minute or two later she appeared at his bedroom door as he was pulling on some dry trousers. ‘Got time for a cup of coffee?’
‘No, sorry, love, Mike’s waiting in the car outside and we’re on our way to an interview. It’s just that I knew I’d be in trouble with your mother if I spent the rest of the day with wet feet.’ Thanet was tugging on fresh socks as he spoke.
‘Quite right, too,’ said Bridget with a grin.
No Laughing Matter Page 18