The House of Women

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The House of Women Page 14

by Alison Taylor


  ‘In the sitting room, I think.’

  The solicitor intervened. ‘Mr Harris made a number of alterations to the house. Originally, there were six ground floor rooms, but he knocked the breakfast room and sitting room into one, blocking off the back staircase, and partly extended the kitchen. As you know, Mr Jones’s room faces the back, but the floor area is partly over the sitting room.’

  ‘I could’ve heard it from the kitchen, as well,’ Edith added. ‘Sounds go up and down the staircase.’

  ‘So when did you begin to worry?’ McKenna asked.

  ‘It sort of fretted at me, not being able to hear him. I even went into the hall once or twice to listen. You know, for shuffling noises, moving around noises.’ She fell silent, tearing at the handkerchief again. ‘It felt different, like I was alone in the house, and I knew I wasn’t, so I went up again, and knocked very hard on the door.’ Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. ‘He didn’t answer, so I went in, and found him like that.’

  ‘Where exactly was Phoebe?’

  ‘When?’

  ‘What did she do after lunch?’

  ‘I told you. She went for a walk, and the cat was wandering in and out of the kitchen, waiting for her. He kept getting under my feet.’

  ‘When did she come back?’

  ‘I can’t remember. It’s all a jumble in my head.’

  ‘After you called the doctor? Before?’

  ‘After.’

  ‘Which way did she come into the house?’

  ‘The back door. She uses the gate in the garden wall.’

  ‘Did you see her come in?’

  ‘I heard her.’

  Shuffling through his notes, McKenna said: ‘How many keys are there to Ned’s room? We found his in the desk.’

  ‘Two?’ Edith said. ‘I’m not really sure. I keep spare keys in the bureau in the study.’

  ‘Who knows about the spare keys?’

  ‘Everybody.’

  ‘Jason?’

  ‘Jason?’

  ‘He’s a frequent visitor,’ McKenna said.

  ‘Mina might have told him, but I wouldn’t. There’s no need for him to know, is there?’

  ‘Do Phoebe and Mina have their own house keys?’

  ‘Mina does. Phoebe’s too young. Annie’s got a key, too, and Iolo and Solange.’

  ‘Why do the professor and his wife have keys?’

  ‘In case I’m ill,’ Edith said.

  ‘Was Ned in the habit of locking his door?’

  ‘Sometimes. He liked his privacy.’

  ‘When would he lock the door? Day? Night? When he was out?’

  ‘I don’t know! I never checked!’ She looked at the rag of linen in her hands. ‘I remember opening his room now and then for the cleaner.’

  ‘She comes every Wednesday, doesn’t she? How long is she in the house?’

  ‘All day.’

  ‘Did she do Ned’s room every week?’

  ‘She did the bathroom and bedroom.’ A brief, sad smile touched her lips. ‘And the parts she could reach in his study. She was always complaining about only being able to do half a job in there.’

  McKenna glanced through his notes. ‘Did you hear any other odd noises on Friday afternoon?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Anything unusual, out of place.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Were the front and back doors open?’

  ‘I can’t remember about the front door. The back door was open because it was so hot.’

  ‘Can you tell me how you buy your milk?’ McKenna asked.

  ‘Milk?’ Edith’s bloodshot eyes goggled.

  ‘The antibiotics may have been dissolved in milk.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘The milkman leaves three pints a day.’

  ‘What happens when you run short?’

  ‘Phoebe goes to the shops.’

  ‘Did you run short any day last week?’

  She frowned. ‘I’m not sure. I might’ve done.’

  ‘Remembering that you’re making this statement under caution, Mrs Harris,’ McKenna said, ‘is there anything you want to add, remove, or amend, in respect of the information you’ve already given?’

  Edith looked to her solicitor. ‘Is there?’

  *

  After Edith left, almost welded to her solicitor’s arm as if that were another crutch, McKenna returned to his office. ‘That was a total waste of time, and I’ve completely scuppered the chance of further co-operation from her.’

  Janet leaned on his desk, one hand massaging her abdomen.

  ‘Have you seen the doctor yet?’ he added.

  ‘I’ll live.’ She smiled wanly.

  ‘You look very pale, and people are beginning to notice your less than blooming health.’

  ‘By “people”, you mean Dewi Prys, I suppose.’

  ‘No, not Dewi. Rowlands commented, and Diana Bradshaw asked if you had a dodgy health record.’

  ‘Perhaps I should stick up a notice in the canteen: “Janet Evans is pregnant. Volunteers required to give the good news to her father, the Reverend Edwin Evans.”‘

  ‘Have you seen him lately?’

  ‘We spoke on the phone the other day. I can’t face either him or my mother at the moment.’ She sat down, and took cigarettes and lighter from her bag. ‘And please don’t lecture me about smoking, sir. I’m trying to cut down.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to. Have you been in touch with the baby’s father yet?’

  ‘I haven’t done anything. I don’t know what to do for the best, so I’m doing nothing. I decided yesterday I wanted the baby, and felt very proud, very confident and really happy.’ She inhaled deeply, then coughed, rubbing her throat. ‘And today I feel absolutely terrible, as if I’ve lost all control over my life, so God knows how I’ll feel tomorrow.’

  ‘D’you want to go home?’

  ‘I’m OK. Having a moan can be very therapeutic.’ She smiled again, more warmly. ‘Something’s puzzling me about what Edith said. If the noise she heard was Ned falling, why didn’t she find him on the floor? D’you think she put him in the chair, as well?’

  ‘Is she strong enough? She’s quite lightly built.’

  ‘He was probably only a little heavier than she is, and Phoebe could move mountains if need be.’

  McKenna fidgeted with his own cigarettes. ‘We must ask her about buying extra milk. You’d better do that, as I’ve blotted my copybook there, too.’

  ‘You like her, don’t you?’

  ‘She has unusual qualities.’

  ‘Inspector Rowlands thinks she’s like a loaded gun minus the safety catch, and her curiosity’s enough to kill most of the cats in North Wales.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Don’t you find her rather odd, sir? She goes from one mood to something completely different in the blink of an eye, and for no apparent reason.’

  ‘She’s very young, Janet, and she has a somewhat abnormal existence with a near-addict mother and a potentially delinquent sister. Apart from that, she’s had a terrible shock. She was very close to Ned.’ Lighting the cigarette he had been rolling between his fingers, he asked: ‘Have you come across any discrepancies in the statements?’

  ‘Only odds and ends, mostly to do with timing, but people hardly ever remember things like that with any accuracy. Inspector Rowlands suggested doing a cross index of significant times, activities and people, to see what shows up. He’s started something similar with the dodgy cars.’

  ‘That’s very enterprising,’ McKenna commented acidly.

  Janet watched him, the smoke from her cigarette drifting upwards and sideways, entwined with that rising from his. ‘I know you’re always telling us not to gossip, sir, but people talk, and when something unexpected happens, people talk even more.’ She paused, waiting for a response, then went on: ‘For instance, there’s going to be an awful lot of talk about me, sooner or later.’

  ‘It won’t amo
unt to more than a nine days’ wonder.’

  ‘I know. Women fall pregnant all the time, married or not.’

  ‘So?’

  She moved uneasily in the chair. ‘Everyone expected you to be promoted.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Inspector Rowlands said his wife heard some talk. Apparently, it’s nothing to do with you. Your promotion was held back because Superintendent Bradshaw had to be moved, and this was the only station with a vacancy.’

  *

  Annie telephoned as McKenna was about to lock his office.

  ‘How’s your mother?’ he asked.

  ‘Like a cat on hot bricks,’ she said, ‘but less upset than I expected. Iolo’s here again, so I imagine he’s keeping her mind off things. I can’t think why she doesn’t charge him rent.’

  ‘Don’t you like him, either?’

  ‘I’ll take the Fifth Amendment,’ she said, a smile in her voice. ‘Actually, I wanted to know if you’re coming to the house again tomorrow. During the holidays, I usually go to the farm on Thursdays, but I can put it off if necessary. Gladys will understand.’

  ‘There’s still a great deal of work for us to do on Ned’s papers.’

  ‘That’s not the problem. Are you planning more interrogations?’

  ‘I can’t say what we’re planning.’

  ‘Silly question, wasn’t it?’ Annie said.

  ‘I meant that I don’t know. It depends on what information arises, among other things. Dewi might come up with something.’

  ‘He didn’t look very fulfilled,’ she commented. ‘You work them hard, don’t you? He didn’t leave until well after seven, then he and George swanned off together in that flash car.’

  ‘Is your sister in?’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘Mina.’

  ‘For once, I thought she was resisting the siren call of the local night-life, but she disappeared with Jason a while ago, both of them giggling like idiots, which isn’t surprising, as there probably isn’t a complete brain between them.’

  McKenna smiled to himself. ‘And where’s Phoebe?’

  ‘Last seen in the dining room, writing in one of her many notebooks, with that blasted animal moulting all over the table. I told her to take herself and the cat into the study, but she wouldn’t.’ She paused, then added: ‘She’s been quite morose this afternoon. I think you upset her.’

  ‘I owe her an apology,’ McKenna said. ‘Would you ask her to come to the phone?’

  ‘I’ll ask, but I can’t guarantee she will.’

  Sounds of footsteps and distant voices came down the line, the noise of door hinges, then he heard a little clatter as the telephone was retrieved.

  ‘Yes?’ Phoebe’s voice was dull.

  ‘I upset you today, Phoebe. I’m sorry.’

  ‘I wasn’t being cheeky.’

  ‘I should be used to your questions by now, shouldn’t I?’

  ‘Are you going to arrest Mama?’

  ‘I can’t answer that. Not “won’t”, but “can’t”, as in “don’t know”.’

  ‘I wish you’d arrest the professor! Can’t you lock him up for harassing us? And her, too. I’m sick of seeing them. They had dinner here, and now they’ve got Mama hostage in the sitting room, wanting to know what you said to her.’

  ‘It’s only natural they should be curious.’ Before she could intervene, he went on: ‘I asked your mother if she’d bought any extra milk last week, but she couldn’t remember.’

  ‘D’you think Uncle Ned was poisoned with the milk? Which day?’

  ‘Any day after Monday or Tuesday, I suppose.’

  ‘I’m thinking.’ The silence lengthened, disturbed again by noises from within the house, and the girl’s faint breaths. ‘I had to go to the shop on Monday, because we ran out of polish, and the cleaner gets uppity if everything isn’t right for her.’

  ‘Are you sure it wasn’t Tuesday? She wouldn’t need the polish before Wednesday.’

  ‘Mama realized on Monday. She had to wash the dining table because Tom was lying on it where the sun shines very early in the morning. She polished it afterwards, and asked me to go before we forgot.’ Phoebe fell silent again, then said: ‘I know I didn’t buy anything on Tuesday, because I spent the whole day with Uncle Ned.’ Her voice tailed away, and he heard a deep sigh. ‘I bought some milk from Safeway on Wednesday afternoon.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I had to, ’cos Mama said Solange and the professor were coming round later, and she likes lots of cold milk in her coffee. Quite sick-making, in my opinion.’

  ‘How much did you buy?’

  ‘One of those big plastic bottles with a handle. Four pints, or whatever it is in litres. Mama was a bit annoyed, because she said we didn’t need so much.’

  ‘Did Ned drink milk? Did he have cereal?’

  ‘He didn’t drink it neat. I don’t, either, because it’s a bit sickly. He had cereal sometimes, but not very often. He liked toast and scrambled egg for breakfast.’

  ‘And can you remember when the Safeway’s milk was opened?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t do the food. Minnie was using bottled milk for breakfast on Thursday, but the milkman’d been by then, and she prefers skimmed anyway.’

  ‘And Friday?’

  ‘I can’t remember. I’m awfully sorry.’

  ‘Ask your mother to come to the phone, please, Phoebe. Tell her it’s important.’

  The receiver clattered again, then he heard Iolo Williams’s voice, raised in angry protest, before Edith whispered down the line.

  ‘Yes? What d’you want?’

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you again, Mrs Harris. Phoebe bought a carton of milk on Wednesday. Can you recall when you opened it?’

  ‘Oh!’ She gasped. ‘I threw it away!’

  ‘Why? When?’

  ‘It didn’t taste right. Oh, my God!’

  ‘Please, Mrs Harris. When did you open it?’

  Her breath came to him like the breath of a frightened animal. ‘It needed using up, so I put some in the jug on Friday morning, and we had it for lunch, and Ned had two mugs of tea, and I used it for the coffee I told you about, and that’s why I threw it away, even though it was nowhere near the sell-by date, because it tasted so sour.’

  ‘Why didn’t you remember when we talked earlier?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She sighed deeply, then said: ‘I can see it now, that’s how I can remember. I can see the big carton in the fridge, and I remember being annoyed with Phoebe for buying so much, and I can see my hands pouring the milk into the jug, and thinking it would take for ever to use up.’

  ‘Was the cap seal broken?’

  ‘Mina used it. She had some for her breakfast, but she said it didn’t taste very nice, so she opened a bottle.’

  *

  As he walked down the stairs from his office, McKenna met Diana Bradshaw on the way up, dragging herself along the banister rail, her face waxen, clothes and hair in disarray. When she saw him, she stopped, breathing heavily.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘I’ve been shot at.’ Hauling her body to the top stair, she leaned against the wall. ‘I was driving home along the expressway, and this car pulled out to overtake, and when it drew level, a girl leaned out of the passenger window and shot at me.’

  ‘You’re joking!’

  ‘If only!’ Diana said, a tremble in her voice. ‘I was absolutely terrified, and God alone knows how I managed to stop without crashing.’ She made for her office, creeping along the wall, McKenna beside her. ‘Traffic rescued me.’

  ‘Where’s your car?’

  ‘In the yard.’ Slumped in the chair, she folded her arms. ‘It must have been a water pistol, because there’s just a smear of something on the driver’s door, but my God, I was frightened!’ Recovering a little equilibrium, her voice sharpened. ‘Of all the stupid, dangerous tricks! She could have caused a dreadful accident.’

  ‘I suppose you didn’t get the make
, or registration number?’

  ‘No, but I’d recognize the girl if I saw her. She was tossing her hair, and she had this crazy expression, on her face, like it was the funniest thing in the world.’ She paused, her breathing still tense. ‘I can’t be sure, but I think they followed me from here, as if they’d been waiting outside the yard. I kept seeing the car in the mirror, slowing down when I did, accelerating after me, but never overtaking, and when they finally pulled out, it was a relief, because they were beginning to get on my nerves.’ The telephone rang, and she jumped, then picked up the receiver. As she listened, her face reddened with anger.

  ‘Bloody bitch!’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘They’ve just hosed down the car, and the paint’s come peeling off the door. She must have had brake fluid in the water pistol. Bloody bitch!’

  9

  As a pale moon drifted in the sky, casting eerie tree shadows down the flanks of Bangor Mountain, McKenna sat in his small parlour, his cats perched on the back doorstep like relics from a pharaoh’s tomb. From a neighbouring backyard, he heard the opening bars of another nocturnal concert, and saw their ears twitch in unison. Dreading a further recital of atonal modernism, he rose wearily to shoo them into the little garden, praying the animals could discover instead a minimalist work composed of prolonged intervals and non-existent notes.

  The letter from Denise’s solicitor lay on the table, half folded, unanswered. On his way back to his seat, he read again the curt words, and felt again the same chill, undiminished by the passage of time.

  THURSDAY, 23 AUGUST

  1

  MCKENNA WOKE AS the cathedral clock chimed twice, into that dead time when yesterday had gone while tomorrow still gathered strength to begin. Sticky, overheated, he pushed the thin quilt to the bottom of the bed, and lay on his back, staring through the uncurtained window at a clear night sky and millions of stars, trying to recall the noise which disturbed him.

  Voices drifted in from the street in front of the house, breaking up the night silence like static on a radio, and, rolling from the bed, he padded barefoot across the small landing into the room opposite, looking down on an overhead view of a large, dark car and two dark heads, and hearing a cadence of voices.

 

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