by Penny Grubb
The voice was precise and clipped, with no shade of curiosity underlying it. Annie imagined Susan Gow as a tallish, angular woman, standing or sitting very upright.
‘My name’s Annie Raymond. I’m a private investigator based in Hull.’ Reacting to Susan Gow’s tone, Annie stripped all emotional cover from her words.
She left out any mention of Michael Walker, Joshua Yates and the real detail of the case. If Susan lived in Spain, she was unlikely even to have heard of it. She implied that her work involved heir hunting and was only peripherally connected with Susan’s mother. And without spelling it out, she eased in an implication that she was investigating the care agency. She would drop Michael’s name in later as the conversation progressed.
Annie read out May’s address and date of birth and asked if Susan could confirm these as correct. Using the information she, Pat and Barbara had found, she followed up with a series of ostensibly routine questions aimed at adding credibility to the legitimacy of her enquiry.
Once satisfied that Susan was comfortable with her as someone with a right to ask questions, she moved on to May’s legacy. ‘I understand that some of your mother’s effects went outside the family.’
‘Yes, two of the neighbours had been good to her over the years. Helped out in times of crisis. I offered them the better pieces of mother’s furniture. Frankly, there was nothing of real value.’
‘Had she left anything to them in her will?’
‘No. The will was very simple. All she had came to me. There was very little. It barely covered the costs of my trips to sort it all out, but that was as I expected. Mother and I were frank with each other over the years. Spend what you have while you’re here. That was her motto and mine too. Her only asset was her house and the care package took that. I’m only thankful the equity lasted out.’
‘Did she have contact with a family called Walker? Specifically, a Michael Walker?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘Or a Joshua Yates?’
‘No, the name isn’t familiar.’
Annie wished she and Susan were face to face so she could be sure, but she heard no hesitation, no wariness, nothing to suggest Susan was not being straight with her. She thought of press comments that had associated Yates with some kind of oddball spiritual sect.
‘Was your mother a member of any religious group?’
Susan Gow barked out a short laugh. ‘Not Mother. She was a committed atheist. Always had been, though she was brought up in a strict chapel-going family.’
‘I understand that something of hers went to one of her carers.’
‘Oh, that? Yes, you’re right. Mother had been insistent about who should have it.’
‘What was it, exactly?’
‘An old box. Mother had had it all her life. It wasn’t a valuable antique or anything like that. Of course, I wouldn’t have let anything like that go without making full enquiries.’
‘But this wasn’t mentioned in her will?’
‘No, the will had been drawn up years ago. But Mother made clear who she wanted the box to go to. To be frank, I forgot all about it until the woman got in touch.’
‘That would be Mrs Lambit?’
‘Not a pleasant woman. I had to tell her I assumed the box had been thrown out.’
‘So she never actually got it.’
‘Oh, she did. It turned up soon afterwards. I had a man in to clear the house and he found it tucked away under the stairs, hidden almost. But that wasn’t unusual. That box was always hidden away wherever we lived. Mother’s locked box.’ Susan gave a short laugh, as though recalling the behaviour of a wayward child.
‘What was in it?’
‘It was empty. Mother used to keep papers in there years ago, but there was nothing there when we found it.’
‘Are you sure? I mean could the man who found it have taken anything out?’
‘No, I was there when he pulled it out. He handed it to me and I got it open. The key was long gone but the hasp had rusted shut. I had to take a screwdriver to it.’
‘What had she kept in there? Years ago, I mean.’
‘I don’t know. I was never allowed in it.’
This was heading down another cul-de-sac, and Annie was running out of things to ask. ‘About Donna Lambit,’ she said, ‘wasn’t it out of order for her to have something from one of her clients? They have strict codes of practice, surely?’
‘Yes, I was frank with the agency about her. I didn’t like her tone when she contacted me. Quite inappropriate.’
‘But you allowed her to have it?’
‘Oh yes. Mother had been clear about it. I wouldn’t have gone against her wishes without good reason. And it was only an old box.’
‘Mrs Lambit must have wanted it badly to contact you directly. She could have lost her job.’
‘Yes, I understand she did get into trouble over it. She contacted me again later, a very emotional phone call. I couldn’t make any sense out of it. I told her not to ring again or it would be an official complaint. I believe there was a warning issued, but I was told she had been an exemplary worker to that point, with a good record. I expect she would have been for the high jump though, had the box been for her personally.’
‘I’m sorry?’ Surprise snapped Annie’s eyes wide open. ‘How do you mean, for her personally? Wasn’t it for her?’
‘No, no. It wasn’t for Mrs Lambit: it was for her daughter, Charlotte. Mother was most insistent about that.’
Chapter 15
Pat’s car was in the street outside. Annie plucked the spare key from the drawer, clicking out a text to Pat as she headed out. Taken your car. Won’t be long. Then she turned her phone off so Pat couldn’t say no.
Minutes later she was back on Charlotte’s doorstep.
‘You again?’ said Charlotte. ‘You can’t keep away.’
‘Can I come in?’ Was it her imagination or was the flinty core within Charlotte suddenly visible these last couple of visits. Certainly, there was a hard glint in her eye. ‘Something’s cropped up.’
Charlotte held the door open.
As she walked through to the kitchen, something made Annie ask, ‘Have you spoken to Nicole?’
‘Yeah. She’s livid.’
‘Where is she? Do you think she’ll talk to me yet?’
‘Give her a day or two to simmer down. She’ll come round. I told her I didn’t think you were after doing a cover-up job for Brittany Booth. I’ll be bloody livid with you if I find out you are.’
Annie waved this aside. ‘Of course I’m not. It’s just unfortunate the way it panned out.’
‘Do you see much of Booth? Nicole wanted to know.’
‘No, I only met her once and I’ve spoken to her a couple of times on the phone. I haven’t needed to see her. She’s just a patsy in all this. Yates might have something useful to say, but as he wouldn’t tell the court, he’s not likely to tell me. And anyway, he refused to see me. My best chance at the moment is to get to the bottom of what your mother did six years ago.’
‘Oh right,’ said Charlotte, and there was no mistaking the steel underlying her tone. ‘So you are working for both sides? You personally, I mean. But don’t worry, I won’t make a fuss about it.’
Annie could have kicked herself. She’d been unforgivably careless. The only consolation was that she was pretty sure Charlotte’s motive was a simple financial one. She was prepared to play along. ‘Well, it’ll work out well for you and Nicole. You get your result at a bargain price.’
Charlotte gave her a smile that said I’m glad we understand each other, and went on, ‘So what’s this thing you want to ask me about?’
No offer of a drink this time, Annie noted. ‘The old woman your mother worked for, May Gow. How well did you know her?’
‘Me?’ Charlotte looked surprised. ‘I never met her.’
‘Then you wouldn’t expect her to leave you anything when she died.’
‘Of course not. Why would she?’
‘That’s what I’m trying to find out. According to her daughter, she wanted you to have an old box of hers.’
Charlotte’s mouth hung slightly open. ‘What? What old box? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Annie watched closely. If it wasn’t genuine surprise, it was a good act.
‘You never had anything from May Gow?’
‘Never. I told you, I never even met her. Why would she leave anything to me?’
Why indeed? Annie looked at Charlotte. There was a hint of worry and confusion in her face now.
‘I don’t know,’ Annie said. ‘But I intend to find out.’
Annie glanced at the time as she drove across town. With luck, she would catch Donna in.
The street with its neat houses looked subtly different at this time of day. More people milled about, cars sat out on driveways and on the street, not hidden away in their garages. Donna’s house looked the same. Neat, surgically scrubbed, turning a blank face to the road.
There was no surprise on Donna’s face when she opened the door and saw Annie on her step. Annie wondered if Charlotte had been in touch, and thought probably not. Charlotte played her cards close. She wondered if Nicole knew how close. The more she saw of them, the less confidence she had in the two so-called friends as a business team.
Donna radiated unease as she greeted Annie with, ‘What have you found out?’
Annie let her gaze rest on Donna until the woman’s eyes rose to meet it. The first time she’d called, Donna had been dressed up to the nines and had mistaken Annie for someone else. This time, the woman was still in her work clothes, an unbuttoned overall hanging open to show a shabby and slightly stained suit.
‘Shall we go inside?’ Annie said.
They went into the neat sitting room, where Annie sat on a hard-backed chair in the window with the light behind her, and barely let Donna follow her in before she spoke.
‘Tell me about May Gow’s locked box.’
Donna’s hand shot to her mouth and she sank into a chair. ‘Oh my God, how did you find out?’
‘I’ve spoken to her daughter, Susan.’
‘Yes … well … what would she know about–?’
Annie saw Donna starting to frame a clumsy lie and cut across her. ‘Susan Gow told me she’d given you the box.’
‘OK, she did,’ Donna muttered. ‘What of it? It was only a lousy old box.’
‘And Susan Gow also told me that her mother had left it to Charlotte, not to you.’
‘Stupid cow!’
Annie watched Donna squirm, saw her wring her hands, shift in her seat. She was close to breaking, but Annie wanted everything she had to give, not just hysteria, and not grudging half-truths.
‘I’m not here to judge,’ she said. She felt no sympathy for Donna, but allowed her tone to soften. ‘And I’m not trying to find out things about you that I can tell the world. I just need to get at the truth so I can find out what happened and why.’
‘Yes, she gave it me,’ Donna said, without looking up. ‘God knows why the old cow left it to Charlotte. What was she trying to do? It should have been for me.’
Annie watched closely, taking in the compulsive twitch of Donna’s finger and thumb rubbing at the moquette of the chair arm.
‘But why?’ she asked. ‘Why would she leave it to you?’
‘She told me she would.’
‘Do you still have it?’
After a pause, Donna nodded.
‘Can I see it?’
Giving her the briefest of glances, Donna pulled herself to her feet and left the room. Annie heard her footsteps go up the stairs and into the room above. She heard the click of a cupboard door. A minute later Donna reappeared in the doorway cradling a wooden box in her hands. Annie reached out for it as Donna passed it across.
The box was plain, but sturdy, and rested comfortably on Annie’s lap. She looked it over. It was rectangular, half as high as it was wide and would have held A5 paper comfortably, but not A4. The remains of a rusty hasp were set into the lid and front panel. The wood had a bumpy feel. The box had been made from scraps of rough timber and must have pushed many splinters under May Gow’s skin before she’d polished the sharp edges to smooth rounded bumps over the years. There was no doubting its age, nor that it held no intrinsic value. She wondered though at Susan Gow not feeling any sentimental attachment to a box that her mother had had all her life. She turned it upside down and stroked the bottom panel. It was the same smooth but uneven surface as the rest.
‘Don’t bother looking for hidden compartments.’ Donna’s voice came from across the room. ‘Believe me, if there’d been anything to find, I’d have found it.’
Annie heard the resentment in Donna’s tone and asked, ‘Do you think Susan took something out of it?’
‘Of course she did. She’ll have just emptied it all on to the fire, or into the bin.’
‘So you don’t think she knew what it was?’
‘No, she’ll have no idea what she did.’
‘And what exactly was it that was in there?’
‘The proof,’ Donna said, looking at Annie in surprise. ‘I thought you’d worked it out. May said the proof was in there. I mean, it was. I didn’t just take her word. I saw it with my own eyes. A whole stack of papers.’
‘Oh my God!’ Annie slapped her hand to her head. ‘All that stuff about not knowing Yates. That was garbage, wasn’t it? You’re the one Yates was calling for. You’re the missing witness.’
Chapter 16
‘I never said I didn’t know him.’ Donna spoke defensively.
‘No, you didn’t, not in so many words. And I was fool enough not to ask. But you do know him. You’re his witness. The woman who’s supposed to come forward to vindicate him.’ Annie spoke authoritatively, consolidating her position. Donna could simply order her out of the house, but she was upset enough not to realize it.
Donna lowered her head so Annie couldn’t see her face.
‘You are, aren’t you?’ Annie kept up the pressure, determined to hear the woman admit it. ‘You’re Yates’s witness.’
‘Yes.’ It was a whisper.
‘But what does it mean? The witness was supposed to be the victim. Did Walker assault you?’
‘Of course not,’ Donna snapped, then burst out, ‘Yates is a fool, a madman. I never told him to go out and do murder.’
‘Why did he believe you were one of Walker’s victims?’
‘He didn’t. That was all made up by the press. Joshua Yates never said that.’
Annie thought back to the reports and documents she’d read. It was true, she couldn’t pinpoint a specific quote from Yates that identified the unnamed witness as one of Walker’s supposed victims.
‘His girlfriend believes it. She thinks the mystery witness was someone Walker abused.’
‘She’s a fool, too. Not that I’ve ever met her. I haven’t. That’s the truth. I don’t believe she’s his girlfriend. She’s just a hanger-on, a follower.’
‘A follower?’
‘Yates is … was some sort of lay preacher. One of those pretend religious groups that go round thinking they’re it, trying to pull people in. They did gardens for free for old people who couldn’t manage any more. That’s what he told people, anyway. I think he picked men off the streets, down and outs, bribed them with the promise of work and stuff. He talked to me about organizing people to go and cut lawns for some of my clients.’
‘Shouldn’t he have gone direct to the agency for that?’
‘He didn’t want to be bothered with all the red tape.’
Annie felt her eyebrows rise, but let the comment pass. Donna saw no anomaly in a dodgy character like Yates given access to vulnerable people without any safeguards.
Yates’s background was one side of this case that Annie had yet to research beyond what she’d read in the press reports. There hadn’t been the time to chase into every corner and she’d had more pressing leads to follow. Had sh
e made a mistake? Should she have spent more time on him? Brittany Booth was due to meet her on Friday. She would decide after that.
‘How big was this movement? How many followers did he have?’
Donna laughed. ‘None now, I should think. It was never serious. He picked on wasters and persuaded them to try something new. But one go with a lawnmower was enough to drive most of them away. I never saw one of his lot come back to the same house twice, that’s if they came at all. And Joshua did nothing himself, though he talked a good day’s work.’
‘How did you come to talk to him about Michael Walker?’
‘One time he brought a guy round and set him on clipping a hedge. I made him a drink of tea. We just got talking.’
‘This was at May Gow’s house?’
‘No, one of my regular clients.’
‘It’s a big step from inviting a stranger in for tea to telling him your daughter’s partner is a paedophile.’
Donna tossed her head in a defensive gesture. ‘He could see I had something on my mind. Who else was I to talk to? The police had been neither use nor ornament.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘I told him there was proof in the locked box, that I’d seen it. The trouble was I couldn’t find it. May wouldn’t say where it was. She was a bit senile by then. But she knew I was the only person prepared to do anything about it. She said she’d leave it to me when she died.’
‘When did she tell you she’d leave it to you?’
Donna looked uncomfortable. ‘I overheard her telling someone else.’
Annie questioned Donna about what exactly she’d overheard, but she either couldn’t or wouldn’t say. In any case, it matched what Susan had told her. She must tie down the times, so quizzed Donna on when she’d spoken to Yates, when she’d seen May’s so-called evidence.
‘It was not so-called! It was for real. It was everything he said in court and more.’
‘What was it, though?’
‘Documents showing what Michael Walker had done.’
‘What sort of documents?’
‘What does it matter? Just documents.’
‘It matters. What were they? Where had they come from? Who’d written them?’