Suspicious Death

by Dorothy Simpson

  On impulse, Thanet swung open the car door and got out. ‘Let’s walk for a while, shall we? The car should be all right; I shouldn’t think there’ll be many tractors around at this time of night.’

  Without speaking, Lineham followed suit, and they set off at a leisurely pace along the narrow lane between tall country hedges of hawthorn and blackthorn, field maple, dogwood and hazel, some distinguishable only by their bark, others just breaking into leaf.

  ‘Does she have anything specific in mind?’ Thanet asked, eventually.

  Lineham shrugged again. ‘She seems to think it would be a good idea to start our own business. Says that’s where the money is these days and that the opportunities to do so have never been better, what with all the advice you can get free from the Government, and the ease with which you can get funding.’

  ‘What sort of business?’

  ‘She … We haven’t made up our minds, yet.’

  ‘But you, Mike?’ said Thanet softly. ‘Have you made up your mind?’

  Lineham shook his head miserably.

  ‘I can see what a dilemma you must be in … Worrying about what your mates’ll say if you leave the Force, worrying about what Louise’ll say if you don’t, but Mike, listen’ – Thanet stopped walking and turned to face Lineham, to emphasise the importance of what he was saving – ‘you’ve got to ignore all that. There’s only one question you have to ask yourself and that is, “What do I want to do?”’

  Lineham gave a mirthless snort of laughter. ‘You don’t think that’s a somewhat selfish attitude to take?’

  ‘No I do not! Look, Mike, you’re what? Thirty? All being well you’ve got another thirty-five years of working life ahead of you. Now I know, as well as you do, that you enjoy your work. Really enjoy it. Oh, I know it has disadvantages, all the things you mentioned plus an awful lot of frustration, hassle and danger at times, too, but all the same you do enjoy it. As much as I do. Don’t you realise how privileged we are? To wake up in the morning and actually look forward to going to work instead of waking up and thinking, Oh God, another day, how can I face it, how can I get through it? You can’t buy satisfaction like that, Mike, not if you’re a millionaire. Now, if there were something else you wanted to do more than this, or as much as this, and you could earn more doing it and please Louise at the same time, I’d give you my blessing, say go ahead, you’ve everything to gain. But if you give up work you enjoy for something in which you haven’t really the slightest interest, I’m afraid you’d end up in far worse straits than you are now – not financially, perhaps, but emotionally. Because for the rest of your life you’d resent being forced into a false position, and that resentment would gradually poison your relationship with Louise.’

  Lineham had been listening intently, nodded now and then as Thanet made some particularly telling point. Now he said, ‘I know that. I know all that. But I just can’t seem to get Louise to see it.’

  ‘You’ve actually put it to her, in those terms?’

  ‘More or less.’ Lineham shook his head despairingly. ‘I just don’t know what to do.’

  They had come to a five-barred gate and in mute accord they turned to lean on it, gazing out over the serene landscape below. Colours were darkening and deepening in tone, edges becoming blurred and shadows lengthening fast as the sun sank towards the western horizon.

  Thanet didn’t know what to do either. It was obvious that this discussion could go no further without venturing into the very private territory of Lineham’s marriage, and Thanet was unsure of the wisdom of taking this step. Marriage guidance, he felt, should be left to the experts. On the other hand, now that his initial reluctance to discuss the matter had been overcome, Lineham seemed anxious to pursue it further, was even now casting anxious glances at Thanet, awaiting his response. What to do? If only he could think of a way to give the Sergeant something positive to hang on to, some new and constructive way of looking at the situation … Suddenly he saw how it might be done.

  ‘Mike,’ he began cautiously.

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  The eager look in Lineham’s eyes gave Thanet the courage to continue.

  ‘Look, I don’t want to pry, and I’ll quite understand if you prefer not to answer, but I was wondering … Would you say that Louise is happy?’

  Lineham compressed his lips, sighed and said bitterly, ‘No, I don’t mind you asking. And I don’t suppose you’ll be too surprised to hear that she hasn’t been happy for a long time.’

  ‘It’s just that I was wondering … Do you think she misses her work?’

  Before their marriage, Louise had been a nurse, working as a sister in Sturrenden General Hospital.

  Lineham was nodding. ‘Oh yes. Always has. I think you’ve hit the nail on the head, there. She’s very fond of the children, mind, but she always has missed it. If I’d had a job with regular hours, of course, she’d have been able to go back before now, do a bit of night duty, to keep her hand in. But as it is it’s just not possible.’

  Thanet nodded, then shivered. As the light seeped out of the sky the breeze seemed to have freshened again. Perhaps there would be another touch of frost tonight. He dug his hands deep into his pockets and turned back towards the car, Lineham falling into step beside him. ‘Has she ever considered finding someone to look after the children during the day?’

  ‘Not seriously, no. For one thing, she thinks – we both think – that kids under the age of five really need their mothers and that you’re asking for trouble later on if you duck out of your responsibilities by dumping them on someone else – at least until they’re of school age. For another, from the purely economic point of view, she’d practically be working for nothing. Nurses are so badly paid she’d have to hand over most of it to the child-minder. Then there are the hours – they’re impossible, as far as child-minding is concerned. You’d really think,’ said Lineham bitterly, ‘that if they’re that desperate for nurses at Sturrenden General, they’d set up a crèche.’

  ‘I agree … Louise has never considered doing anything other than nursing, something part-time, just until the children start school? How often does Richard go to playgroup?’

  ‘Three mornings a week.’

  ‘And Mandy will be starting in September, won’t she?’

  ‘Yes … I don’t know whether it would have entered her head. Nursing’s her first love, always has been …’

  ‘I know. But it might just be worth discussing the possibility, stressing that it would only be a temporary measure. It must be very hard for a woman like Louise, who’s had a successful career, to be stuck at home all day staring at four walls and looking after two young children.’

  ‘You almost sound as if you’ve been through all this yourself.’

  Lineham was looking much more relaxed, Thanet noticed. At this point he even managed an echo of his usual cheeky grin.

  ‘Oh, I have. Not in quite the same way. But there was a point, when Ben finally started school and Joan was contemplating a career in the probation service, when I had to do some re-thinking. Up until then I’m afraid I’d just taken it for granted that she was one hundred per cent happy looking after the house, the children and me. A real MCP, in fact. And having my eyes opened was, as recall, distinctly painful.’

  ‘Really?’ Lineham was looking at Thanet as though the confession had enhanced rather than diminished him in the Sergeant’s eyes.

  Thanet grinned. ‘Cross my heart. It took me years to adjust, really adjust, to having a wife whose career was as important to her as mine was to me. Until last year, as a matter of fact.’

  ‘Last year? But Joan’s been a probation officer for – how long? – six years now!’

  ‘Marriage is a funny thing, Mike. People who are going through a bad patch seem to think things will never change, or if they do they can only get worse. But the fact of the matter is, none of us is static, we’re all changing all the time, and when two people are involved there is tremendous potential for change, given good
will on both sides. You know, I’ve often thought that in marriage there seems to be a kind of natural ebb and flow, as feelings fluctuate, situations alter and attitudes change. So that sometimes things get better and sometimes things get worse, for no apparent reason but simply because of this fundamental – what shall I call it? – groundswell, going on underneath all the time. And this is perfectly normal, perfectly natural. The trouble nowadays is that people seem to take it for granted that if they’re having a bad time it means their marriage has broken down for ever. And this simply need not be true. Take your situation, now. It might seem to you that there is no way – no acceptable way, that is – out of it. But it would need only one of you to change his attitude slightly and the other would begin to react to that change, and the possibility of breaking the apparent impasse would be there.’

  They had reached the car now and Lineham automatically unlocked it, climbed in and reached across to release the catch on Thanet’s door. Then he sat quite still for a minute or two, gazing sightlessly out of the windscreen. ‘I don’t think,’ he said slowly at last, ‘that I’ve ever really tried to look at the situation from Louise’s point of view before. Oh, I know she’s not happy stuck at home all the time, much as she loves the kids. But we’ve never really talked about it, it just comes out in other ways, as though she’s trying to pin her dissatisfaction on something else …’

  Like her husband’s lack of ambition, thought Thanet.

  Lineham was getting there himself. ‘Perhaps she feels that the only way she can change things is through me.’

  ‘Possibly. But if so, it’s quite likely that it’s unconscious, she doesn’t realise she’s doing it. In any case, it might help if you brought it out into the open, talked about it.’

  Lineham turned to look Thanet full in the face and gave a resolute nod. ‘I will. Yes.’

  ‘In any case, I should stop worrying about having to make an immediate decision about leaving the force.’

  ‘I don’t want to leave. I really don’t. As you say, I really enjoy my work, I’ve never wanted to do anything else.’

  Thanet wondered if Lineham was remembering the battle he had fought with his mother over his entry to the police force. A widow who had brought up her only son single-handed, she had fought long and hard against his entering what she considered to be a dangerous profession. And if he did remember, would he now make the inevitable comparison with his current situation?

  ‘But I was beginning to wonder if there was any other way out. Now … Well, I think I feel there may be a light at the end of the tunnel. Thank you, sir.’

  Thanet recognised the note of finality in Lineham’s voice. The Sergeant had had enough of discussing his private problems for the moment.

  ‘All in a day’s work,’ said Thanet with a grin. ‘And talking about work …’

  ‘Ah, yes.’ Lineham glanced down at Telford Green, where lights were coming on in the houses. Then he gave Thanet his usual mischievous grin and said, ‘Well, one thing’s certain, it seems to me. If Mrs Salden didn’t manage to get herself murdered, it wasn’t for want of trying.’

  NINE

  ‘So what did you mean, wasn’t for want of trying?’ said Thanet, settling back into his seat with a mental sigh of relief that their talk seemed to have been of some use and Lineham was showing every sign of reverting to normal.

  They had decided that it was about time they returned to Headquarters and the car now plunged into the entrance to the tunnel of trees which was transformed by approaching darkness into a place of mystery; menace, even.

  Lineham braked as a rabbit, momentarily transfixed by their headlights, squatted in their path before scuttling off into the undergrowth beside the road, white tail bobbing. ‘Well, OK, we don’t know yet if it was an accident or not. It could have been – though, as I said earlier, it’s unlikely. I can’t see how anyone could have been unaware of the lights and the barriers Kimberley set up on the bridge or how Mrs Salden could accidentally have fallen in without being pushed. But in view of the knack she seems to have had for stirring up trouble …’

  ‘Trouble in general, or trouble with individuals?’

  ‘Both, I should say. It’s just the way she was. If she wanted something, she went for it, regardless of what anyone else felt. It wasn’t surprising she was unpopular in the village. First she closes off a right of way …’

  ‘Her right of way, remember, Mike.’

  ‘Technically, maybe. But you can understand how the people in the village feel, with no bus and having to walk an extra mile or more. That’s not much fun if you’re an old age pensioner or a young mum. And they’d been using it for years. Why should she have been so determined to close it anyway? The footpath doesn’t overlook the Manor gardens, the hedges are much too high and thick for that. It just seems mean and petty-minded. Then there’s the business of the village hall and the planning permission. Imagine how they must have felt! They’d been slogging away raising money for years, they’d got the promise of a grant from the Borough Council, set up the purchase of the land with Mr – what was his name? – Tiller, and then, at the eleventh hour, Mrs Salden snatches the whole thing away from under their noses. Can you blame them for being mad at her? I be that demonstration down there against Harry Greenleaf’s eviction was as much an expression of their resentment against the way she’s treated them as against the way she was treating him.’

  ‘I thought the same thing myself. But I’m not so sure that she was just insensitive. I’m beginning to wonder if some of this provocation may have been deliberate.’

  ‘Deliberate?’ They had reached the bottom of the hill and Lineham paused to check that the road was clear before pulling out. ‘Why?’

  ‘Ah, that’s the intriguing question, isn’t it? And I think I’m only just starting to get the glimmer of an answer. But if you think about Marcia Salden’s background, it does all begin to make sense.’

  ‘Not to me it doesn’t.’

  ‘Just consider, Mike.’ Thanet glanced out of the window as they entered Telford Green and then gestured at the row of cottages ahead, next to the Crooked Door. ‘She was brought up there, in a farm worker’s cottage. Her father was a drunk. That means that as far as this community was concerned she was the lowest of the low. Then, just as in all the best rags-to-riches stories, she finds fame and fortune – well, fortune, anyway. And what does she do? Does she go as far away as possible from the place where she suffered all the humiliations of the child of an alcoholic? No, she buys the house she fell in love with as a child, the house she swore she would one day own, and in fulfilment of all those childhood dreams comes back as Lady of the Manor. Quite a touching, romantic story, I think you’ll agree. But unfortunately she didn’t live happily ever after. The sequel wasn’t at all what she had imagined. Country people are very conservative, Mike, and the older ones are still very conscious of hierarchy. I can’t imagine that they were too pleased to see the daughter of a drunken cottager ensconced in the Manor.’

  All the lights were on in the Crooked Door and the place looked warm and welcoming. As they passed, two men went in. Thanet thought he recognised them from this morning. He resisted the temptation to suggest stopping for a pint.

  ‘Those warning lights are clearly visible from way back up the road,’ said Lineham, slowing down as he drove over the bridge.

  ‘Yes, I’d noticed.’

  Lineham glanced at him. ‘So you think they gave her the cold shoulder?’

  ‘Let’s be charitable and say that they would have been slow to accept her. Given time, they might well have done so. But I’d guess that she wouldn’t have been prepared to wait. With her background she would have been hyper-sensitive to snubs, real or imagined, and when she found that they were not exactly going to welcome her with open arms she would have said, right, I’ll show you, damned if I don’t. And proceeded to do just that.’

  The Manor gates flashed by on the left. The lights were on in the lodge but the main house was invisi
ble from the road by virtue of the curve in the drive.

  ‘So you’re saying that closing the footpath and scuppering the plans for the village hall were a way of getting her own back on them?’

  Thanet shrugged. ‘It’s possible, don’t you think?’

  ‘And evicting Harry Greenleaf?’

  ‘Well, if what I’ve been saying is true, and I think it quite likely, it must have been galling for her to see Greenleaf accepted and tolerated – even liked – by the villagers, while she was shunned.’

  ‘So out he had to go.’

  ‘As good a suggestion as any, don’t you think?’

  ‘Unless she had some personal reason for wanting to get rid of him.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘Anyway, to get back to what you were saying, Mike, about the general ill-feeling towards her, you’re not by any chance suggesting that the people of the village collectively decided they’d had enough of her and grabbed the chance to shove her off the bridge?’

  ‘No, of course not! I’m just talking about the way she steamrollered her way over people’s feelings. And if she could do that on a big scale, why not on a small one?’

  ‘Are you thinking of anyone in particular?’

  ‘Not really. But surely you’ve noticed that no one we’ve yet met has shown any real grief over her death? They’ve been shocked, yes, but that’s all. Mrs Pantry obviously didn’t have much time for her, Edith Phipps wasn’t exactly brokenhearted even though they went way back together, Nurse Lint wasn’t too impressed by her even though she tried to hide it by talking about her generosity towards her mother, and Mrs Pepper – though she did sympathise with the rotten life Mrs Salden had had as a girl – didn’t have much to say for her either.’