Sculptress

by Minette Walters

  “So how did he know the child’s name?”

  Archly, Mr. Hayes tapped the side of his nose.

  “No names no pack drill, young lady. Always best.”

  Hal leaned forward aggressively and held up a hand.

  “One moment, please, Miss Leigh.” He drew his brows together in a ferocious scowl.

  “You do realise, Mr. Hayes, that if your son doesn’t work for Mr. Crew then, strictly speaking, he’s committed an offence by being in receipt of confidential information. The legal profession is bound by the same codes as the medical profession and if someone in Mr. Crew’s practice is talking to outsiders, then both he and the police would want to know about it.”

  “Bah!” the old man snorted contemptuously.

  “You never change, you lot. What shall I say? Quick as lightning to bang up the innocent while the bloody thieves wander around, free as birds, nicking anything they feel like nicking. You should do what you’re being paid for, Sergeant, and not go round threatening old men.

  It was Mr. Crew himself gave out that information. He told my lad and my lad told me. How’s he supposed to know it’s confidential if the blooming solicitor’s telling everyone? Stands to reason he’d pass it on, seeing as how I was the only friend Bob had at the end.” He glared suspiciously from Hal to Roz.

  “What you bring a policeman for, anyway?”

  “Because there’s some doubt of Olive’s guilt,” said Roz glibly, wondering if being economical with the truth constituted deliberate impersonation of a police officer.

  “This gentleman is holding a watching brief while I talk to people.”

  “I see,” said Mr. Hayes. But it was obvious he didn’t.

  “I’m nearly finished.” She smiled brightly.

  “I found the Clarkes, by the way. Had a chat with them a week or so ago.

  Poor Mrs. Clarke is completely senile now.”

  The watery eyes looked amused.

  “That doesn’t surprise me.

  She was pretty far gone when I knew her. I sometimes thought my Jeannie was the only sensible woman in the road.”

  “I gather Mr. Clarke had to stay at home to look after her?”

  She raised her eyebrows in enquiry.

  “But he spent more time with Robert than he spent with her. How friendly were they, Mr. Hayes? Do you know?”

  It was obvious he understood the point of her question. He chose out of delicacy? not to answer it.

  “Good friends,” he muttered, ‘and who can blame them? Bob’s wife was a dip so and Ted’s was the silliest creature I’ve ever met. Cleaned the house from top to bottom every day.” He gave a grunt of contempt.

  “Hygiene mad, she was. Used to walk around in nothing but an overall, no undies in case she spread germs, swabbing everything with disinfectant.” He chuckled suddenly.

  “Remember once she scrubbed the dining table with neat Domestos to sterilise it. Hah! Ted was hopping mad. He’d just paid for the thing to be french polished after Dorothy’s last effort with boiling water.

  And now she’s completely senile, you say. Not surprised. Not surprised at all.”

  Roz sat with her pencil poised above her notepad.

  “And can you say,” she asked after a moment, ‘if Ted and Bob were lovers?”

  “No. It weren’t none of my business.”

  “OK.” She gathered her things together.

  “Thank you, Mr.

  Hayes. I don’t know if there’s anything Mr. Hawksley wants to ask you.” She looked at Hal.

  He stood up.

  “Only the name of your son’s security firm, Mr. Hayes.”

  The old man eyed him suspiciously.

  “What you want that for?”

  “Just so I can put a quiet word in the right ear about the leak of privileged information.” He smiled coldly.

  “Otherwise I shall have to report it and then there’ll be an official complaint.” He shrugged.

  “Don’t worry. You have my word I won’t make an issue out of it, not unless I have to.”

  “The word of a policeman, eh? That’s not something I’d want to rely on. Certainly not.”

  Hal buttoned his jacket.

  “It’ll have to go through official channels then, and it’ll be an inspector coming to see you next time.”

  “What shall I say? Blooming blackmail, that’s all this is. STC Security, Bell Street, Southampton.

  There now. Let’s see if your word’s worth something.”

  Hal looked past him towards the photograph of his son.

  “Thank you, Mr. Hayes,” he said pleasantly.

  “You’ve been very helpful.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Roz walked back to the car deep in thought.

  “What’s up?” Hal asked her.

  “Just something he said.” She put her bag on the roof and stared into the middle distance, trying to pick up an elusive thread.

  “It’s no good. I’ll have to go back through my notes.” She unlocked the door.

  “So what do we do now? Go to the police?”

  She released Hal’s door and he climbed in beside her.

  “No. We’d be there all day answering questions and there’s no guarantee they’d act at the end of it.” He thought for a moment.

  “And it’s no good tackling Crew either. If we’re going to nail him we’ll have to do it through Stewart Hayes and his security firm.”

  Roz winced.

  “We? Listen, Hawksley, I’ve already had my hair pulled out once by that gorilla. I’m not sure I fancy it a second time.” She meant it, too.

  Hal put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think I fancy it much either.” He could smell the scent of soap on her face and with a sigh he moved away.

  “But we’ve got to get it settled one way or another,” he said coolly.

  “I can’t stand much more of this.”

  Her insecurities resurfaced.

  “Much more of what?”

  “Sitting around in confined spaces with you,” he growled.

  “It requires too much blasted self-control. Come on. Let’s grasp the nettle. I’ll phone Geof Wyatt and see if I can persuade him to hold my hand while I offer the Poacher for sale.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier just to have Hayes arrested?”

  “What for?”

  “Breaking and entering.”

  “On what evidence?”

  “Me,” she said.

  “I can identify him.”

  “He’ll have an alibi by now.” He flicked a strand of hair from her cheek with a gesture of casual affection.

  “We need to tempt Crew into the open.”

  It was Roz’s turn to sigh. In the cold light of morning, she was having doubts.

  “It’s all guesswork, Hal. Crew could be squeaky clean as far as the Poacher’s concerned. Mr. Hayes likes to give the impression he knows more than he does. It makes him feel important.”

  “But it’s the only scenario that makes sense.” He stroked his jaw and smiled at her with a confidence he didn’t really feel.

  “My nose is twitching. It’s always a good sign.”

  “Of what?”

  “That I’m on the right track.”

  “You’ll lose the Poacher if you’re wrong.”

  “I’ll lose it anyway.” He drummed his fingers on the dashboard.

  “Come on,” he said abruptly.

  “Let’s go. Head for the city centre. Bell Street runs parallel with the main shopping area.

  We’ll stop at the first telephone we see. And keep your eyes peeled for an electrical goods shop.”

  She fired the engine and pulled out into the road.

  “Why?”

  “You’ll find out.”

  He dialled Dawlington police station and asked to be put through to Geof Wyatt.

  “It’s Hal.” He let the angry recriminations run for a moment, then broke in.<
br />
  “Save your breath. I’m trying to sort it now, but I need your help.

  What do you have on STC Security in Bell Street? No, I’ll wait.” He propped the receiver under his chin and took out a notepad.

  “OK. Hayes. ExAriny. Clean as a whistle. You’re sure? Right. Can you meet me there in half an hour?” More squeaks.

  “For old time’s sake, that’s why. No, you bastard, I don’t give a monkeys toss if you still feel sick. At the very least, you owe me for Sally. Half an hour.” He hung up.

  Roz examined her fingernails with studied uninterest.

  “Who’s Sally?” she asked.

  “Myex.”

  “Why does he owe you for her?”

  “He married her.”

  “God!” She hadn’t expected that.

  He smiled at her startled expression.

  “He did me a favour but doesn’t know it. He thinks it’s why I left the Force. His guilt is huge and extremely useful at times like this.”

  “That’s cruel.”

  He lifted an eyebrow.

  “It hurt at the time.”

  “Sorry,” she said regretfully.

  “I keep forgetting we both have pasts.”

  He pulled her against him.

  “The marriage was long dead, and Geof didn’t set out to poach Sally.

  He’s a decent sort. He held her hand out of friendship, and ended up with more than he bargained for. And that’s genuine gratitude talking, Roz, not bitterness.” He kissed her nose.

  “Poor bastard. He had no idea what he was signing on for.”

  “Olive’s revenge,” she said slowly.

  He frowned as he dialled Directory Enquiries.

  “I don’t follow.”

  Roz gave a hollow laugh.

  “She makes clay figures in her room and then sticks pins into them. She did one of me when she was angry with me. I had a migraine for a week.”

  “When was that? Yes,” he said into the phone, “STC Security, Southampton, please.”

  “A couple of weeks ago.”

  “Someone beat you up a couple of weeks ago,” he pointed out.

  “That’s why you had a migraine.” He wrote a number on his pad and hung up.

  “My ex-husband,” she agreed.

  “I told Olive I wanted to kill him and he turned up out of the blue. I could have killed him, too, if I’d had a knife, or been better prepared. I was angry enough.” She shrugged.

  “And then there’s you and Crew and the Poacher, and Wyatt taking your wife, and her father dying. All people she blames for what’s happened to her.” He looked surprised.

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  She laughed.

  “No, of course I don’t.” But she did. Only she knew how much her head had hurt when Olive turned the pin.

  “STC Security,” said a woman’s bright voice at the other end of the wire.

  Hal looked at Roz as he spoke.

  “Good morning. I’d like to discuss security arrangements for my restaurant with Mr. Stewart Hayes.”

  “I’m not sure he’s available to talk at the moment, sir.”

  “He will be for me. Try his number and tell him that Hal Hawksley of the Poacher is on the line.”

  “One moment, please.”

  Several moments passed before she came back to him.

  “Mr. Hayes will talk to you now, Mr. Hawksley.”

  A bluff, friendly voice swelled down the wire.

  “Good morning, Mr. Hawksley. How may I help you?”

  “You can’t, Mr. Hayes, but I can help you. You have a window of opportunity which will stay open for the length of time it takes me to reach your office. Roughly half an hour.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m prepared to sell the Poacher, but at my price, and today.

  That’s the only offer you’ll ever get.”

  There was a short silence.

  “I’m not in the market for buying restaurants, Mr. Hawksley.”

  “But Mr. Crew is, so I suggest you consult with him before you allow the window to close.”

  There was another silence.

  “I don’t know any Mr. Crew.” Hal ignored this.

  “Tell him the Olive Martin case is about to blow wide open.” He gave Roz a broad wink.

  “She is already taking legal advice from another solicitor and is expected to lodge an appeal against the terms of her father’s will within seven days on the grounds that she is innocent. Crew buys the Poacher today, at my price, or he doesn’t buy it at all. You have half an hour, Mr. Hayes.” He hung up.

  Geof was waiting on the pavement when they arrived.

  “You didn’t mention you were bringing company,” he said suspiciously, bending down to look through the open passenger window.

  Hal introduced them.

  “Sergeant Wyatt, Miss Rosalind Leigh.”

  “Jesus, Hal,” he said in disgust.

  “What on earth do you want to bring her for?”

  “I fancy her.”

  Geof shook his head in exasperation.

  “You’re mad.” Hal opened the door and got out.

  “I trust you’re referring to my motives in bringing her here. If I thought you were impugning my choice, I’d bop you on the nose.” He looked across the roof at Roz who had got out on the other side and was locking her door.

  “I think you should stay in the car.”

  “Why?”

  “You might get your hair pulled.”

  “So might you.”

  “It’s my battle.”

  “And mine, if I’m really thinking of making this relationship permanent. Anyway, you need me. I’m the one with the Tampax.”

  “They won’t work.”

  Roz chuckled at the expression on Geof’s face.

  “They will.

  Trust me.”

  Hal tipped a finger at Wyatt.

  “Now you know why I brought 7 her.”

  “You’re both bloody mad.” Geof dropped his cigarette butt on to the pavement and ground it out beneath his heel.

  “So what do you want me for? By rights I should be arresting you.” He eyed Roz curiously.

  “I suppose he’s told you everything.”

  “I shouldn’t think so,” she said cheerfully, walking round the back of the car.

  “I only learnt half an hour ago that his ex wife’s name was Sally and you married her. So, on that basis, there must be an awful lot more still to come.”

  “I was referring,” he said sourly, ‘to the numerous prosecutions he’s about to face when this little farce is over and I take him down the nick.”

  “Oh, them.” She gave a dismissive wave.

  “Bits of paper, that’s all they are.”

  Geoff not altogether happy with his new marital arrangements, watched her amused exchange of glances with Hal and wondered why other people, infinitely less deserving than he, had all the luck.

  He listened to Hal’s instructions for him with a hand pressed to his queasy stomach.

  Roz had expected something seedy and run-down like the Wells-Fargo office: instead they walked into a clean, brightly painted reception with an efficient-looking receptionist behind an efficient looking desk. Someone, she thought, had spent a great deal of money on STC Secwity. But who?

  And where had it come from?

  Hal favoured the receptionist with his most charming smile.

  “Hal Hawksley. Mr. Hayes is expecting me.”

  “Oh, yes.” She smiled in return.

  “He said to show you straight in.” She leaned forward and pointed down the corridor.

  “Third door on the left.

  Perhaps your friends would like to take a seat Out here?” She indicated some chairs in the corner.

  “Thank you, miss,” said Geon.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” He hefted one as he passed and took it with him down the corridor.

  “No,” she called, “I didn�
��t mean take one away.”

  He beamed back at her as Hal and Roz disappeared through the third door without knocking and he stationed himself on the chair in the middle of the closed doorway.

  “Very comfortable, I must say.” He lit a cigarette and watched, with some amusement, as she picked up the phone and put through a flustered call.

  On the other side of the door, Stewart Hayes replaced the receiver.

  “I gather from Lisa that you have a minder, Mr. Hawksley. Would he be a policeman by any chance?”

  “He would.”

  “Ah.” He clasped his hands on his desk, apparently unconcerned.

  “Sit down, please.” He smiled at Roz and gestured towards a chair.

  Fascinated by him, she took it. This was not the man who had tried to strangle her. He was younger, better looking, bluff and friendly like his voice. The brother, she thought, recalling the photographs on the sideboard. He had his father’s smile, with all its sincerity, his father’s old-world charm, and under different circumstances she would have found him easy to like.

  Only his eyes, pale and carefully guarded, implied he had something to hide. Hal remained standing.

  The smile embraced them both.

  “OK, now perhaps you’d like to explain what you said over the telephone. I’ll be honest with you’ his tone suggested he was about to be the exact opposite “I don’t understand why I’ve been given half an hour to buy a restaurant from someone I’ve never met, someone I’ve never heard of, and all because a self-confessed murderess wants to contest her father’s will.”

  Hal glanced about the well-appointed office.

  “Expensive,” he said.

  “You and your brother are doing well.” He fastened speculative eyes on Hayes.

  “Your father thinks you’re on the bread line Hayes gave a slight frown but didn’t say anything.

  “So how much does Crew pay for the baseball-bat treatment?

  It’s risky so it won’t come cheap.”

  The pale eyes showed faint amusement.

  “You’ve lost me, I’m afraid.”

  “Your brother was very easy to identify, Hayes. Photographs of him litter your father’s sideboard. But then Crew obviously never warned you about the loose cannon on board. Or perhaps you should have warned him. Does he know your father lived next door to Olive Martin?” He saw the other’s incomprehension and nodded to Roz.

  “This lady is writing a book about her. Crew was Olive’s solicitor, I was her arresting officer, and your father was her neighbour. Miss Leigh has visited us all and she recognised your brother from his snapshot.