‘So has he asked you to stay put?’
‘For the time being, he said. I guess so that he can check up on the information I’ve given him.’
‘Did you tell him about you and Matthew and you and your wife?’
Andrew sighed. ‘I felt I should. I’m sure he’s far too discreet to let any of the information out unless it’s relevant.’
‘No, he won’t,’ said Ben.
‘How’s Harry? Do you know?’
Ben told him as much as they knew, and that Peter was going back to the hospital.
‘They wouldn’t let me see him, of course?’ Andrew sounded wistful.
‘Even Peter couldn’t see him this morning, and he’s next of kin, so it’ll be a while, especially if they keep him in an induced coma.’
‘Poor Harry. And poor me. If he could wake up, at least the police would know it wasn’t me.’
‘We don’t know that he saw or recognised his attacker,’ said Ben. ‘Far more likely that he didn’t.’
‘Where was the blow? It was a blow to the head, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, but I have no idea where it was. We’ll keep you posted.’
‘Have you eaten today? I was going to book dinner here in the pub.’
‘We’ve just had Sunday lunch with my mother – it’s tradition. But Libby and I could perhaps join you for a drink this evening after you’ve eaten? If you’d like us to.’
‘I would, very much. I’m rather bored and lonely, and now very anxious indeed. About eight thirty, then?’
Ben informed Libby when he returned to the kitchen, where she and Hetty were finishing off the last of the claret.
‘That’s fine,’ she said. ‘He’s a nice old boy, and I really don’t think he’s got any motive for hurting Hal.’
‘Unless he expected something from Matthew’s will,’ said Ben.
‘He’s rich enough, so’s his wife,’ said Libby. ‘And he’s far too frail to go hitting tall young men over the head.’
When Libby and Ben got home later that afternoon they found Ian Connell just turning away from the door of number seventeen.
‘I was just about to come up to the Manor to see if you were there.’
‘We were,’ said Libby. ‘Is this a formal visit?’
‘No, not really.’ Ian followed them into the house. ‘I could do with tea, though?’ He looked hopeful. Libby grinned and went into the kitchen.
‘So what do you want to tell me?’ he said when Libby had provided mugs all round.
‘Tell you?’ Libby was surprised.
‘Don’t you want to tell me about Andrew McColl?’
Ben and Libby looked at each other. Libby sighed.
‘What do you want to know?’
‘When you met him. What he’s told you, his relationship with Harry and with Matthew DeLaxley.’
‘I expect he’s told you everything already. He said he had,’ said Ben.
‘Oh, you’ve been in touch?’
‘Yes. We thought you might have put him under curfew, so we thought we ought to check up on him and tell him what we knew about Harry,’ said Libby. ‘We’re having a drink with him this evening.’
‘Be careful about what you tell him,’ said Ian.
‘Oh, you can’t seriously think he’s got anything to do with all this?’ said Libby. ‘That old man?’
‘That old man, you must remember, is an actor who is still working, and used to be known for his stage fighting skills,’ said Ian.
‘But not now he’s in his eighties,’ said Ben. ‘And what would his motive be?’
‘To keep his relationship with DeLaxley quiet?’
‘Rubbish. We didn’t even know he had one until he told us – all of us – when he appeared here the other day.’
Ian’s face relaxed slightly. ‘Yes, that’s what he said. So Harry didn’t know about him before?’
‘Well, strictly speaking, he did. So did we,’ said Ben. ‘He was the person Matthew referred to as Lucifer. But he can’t have been behind the earlier letter. He went to Matthew’s solicitor to find Harry, and the solicitor called Harry to ask his permission first. Andrew wouldn’t have known who Harry was any more than Hal knew him.’
‘That’s what he says,’ said Ian, ‘But he could be lying.’
‘Well,’ said Libby with a sigh, ‘I suppose you have to be suspicious of everybody.’
‘Except you, luckily. Oh, and by the way, I heard from the Isle of Wight police. They’ve traced Keith Franklin.’
‘Really?’ Libby sat up straight. ‘Where?’
‘He’s living in Amanda Clipping’s house.’
Chapter Thirty-two
‘He was the man in the wheelchair!’ Libby turned to Ben.
‘Remind me,’ said Ian. ‘Man in a wheelchair?’
Libby told him again of the meeting with Amanda in the pub garden. ‘And the man I saw in the car was with them.’
‘Oh, things are beginning to tie up.’ Ian put down his mug. ‘I suppose the man you saw couldn’t be Keith Franklin?’
‘Much too young,’ said Libby. ‘Keith Franklin is Harry’s dad. Looks to me as if he’s paying the younger man to get rid of Harry.’
‘But why? Keith Franklin was adopted and never knew his real mother,’ said Ian.
‘But Harry was told that Keith Franklin had found out about his mother and come back to the Island. He must have been all muffled up like he was when we saw him to prevent people recognising him,’ said Libby.
‘But no one on the Island had ever seen him,’ objected Ben. ‘How would they know who he was?’
‘I don’t know – perhaps he was the spitting image of his mother, or his father, of course. He might look exactly like Alfred Morton, who people would remember because of what he did.’
‘It’s possible,’ said Ian. ‘And it certainly is a link. I’m going over to the Island tomorrow to question him.’
‘Have they picked him up?’ asked Libby. ‘Only if he’s pre-warned he’ll skip.’
‘You’ve been watching too many TV programmes, Libby,’ said Ian, standing up with a grin. ‘We do know what we’re doing.’
‘Well,’ said Libby, when Ian had gone. ‘That’s a turn-up for the books. Do we tell Andrew when we see him?’
‘I think it’s wiser not to say anything about the business,’ said Ben. ‘I don’t suspect Andrew any more than you do, but we don’t want to muddy any waters. We can call Peter though.’
‘Won’t he have had to turn his phone off?’
‘We can try,’ said Ben and took out his phone.
Peter answered almost straight away, and was able to tell them that Harry was showing signs of life, and they’d allowed him in to sit beside him for a while. There was a police guard on him, although they didn’t expect any trouble. Ben told him what Ian had told them.
‘I won’t tell Harry anything, even if he does come round,’ said Peter. ‘But it’s good to know things are moving at last.’
Andrew was sitting in the corner of the pub by the empty fireplace when Libby and Ben joined him later. When he came back from fetching drinks he asked after Harry.
‘Progressing as far as we know,’ said Libby. ‘We spoke to Peter this afternoon, but he’s had to turn his phone off.’ She crossed her fingers under the table.
‘You know, I do see why I look suspicious to the police.’ Andrew twirled his glass between his fingers. ‘I just hope Ronald Deakin can confirm that I knew nothing about Harry before he told me.’
‘I was thinking,’ said Libby. ‘Mr Deakin must be the only person who knew everything about Matthew. He must know who Harry’s gran is, because of the money Matthew was administering for her estate.’
‘Maybe,’ said Ben, ‘but it’s quite possible that was a private agreement. She just left it to Matthew trusting him to do the right thing.’
‘It’s worth asking, though, isn’t it?’
‘I doubt if he’d tell you,’ said Andrew. ‘Look how careful he was about pu
tting Harry in touch with his natural mother and me. The police might get more from him.’
‘I think they’ve already talked to him,’ said Libby. ‘Actually, I assume they have, I don’t know. I expect they’ll speak to him tomorrow.’
‘To check up on me,’ said Andrew. ‘And then perhaps they’ll let me go home.’
‘I can’t quite understand why they wanted you to stay here,’ said Ben. ‘After all, you could just go whenever you wanted. No one’s guarding you.’
‘It was a request,’ said Andrew. ‘I thought it best to comply.’
‘Well, there’s nothing to be done now,’ said Libby, ‘so we might just as well enjoy your company. And you can tell us some stories from your distinguished career!’
Andrew laughed. ‘I’ve had a very unremarkable career! But thank you for flattering me.’
For the rest of the evening Andrew did indeed tell them anecdotes from his long career, and disposed of a few popular myths. They parted on the best of terms when the landlord called time.
‘It’s nothing to do with him,’ said Libby, as they walked home. ‘He’s far too nice.’
‘I’ve heard lots of murderers are,’ said Ben.
‘But we’ve got to remember whoever is behind this left Celia for dead in that Beach House. And then somehow got out of Candle Cove before the sea came in. Andrew couldn’t have done that.’
‘But the young bloke you saw could have done.’
‘But we decided he had something to do with Keith Franklin.’
‘Ian will find out,’ said Ben comfortably. ‘All we have to worry about now is Harry’s recovery.’
The following morning, Peter reported that Harry was awake, and they were allowing Ian to speak to him later.
‘That means he won’t be able to get to the Island early,’ said Ben.
‘I expect he thought Harry would find it easier to talk to him than some anonymous officer,’ said Libby.
‘I expect Pete will tell us later. Do you think we’d be allowed to visit today?’
‘I’ll ring the hospital and ask,’ said Libby. ‘You go off to the office now, and I’ll let you know if I hear anything.’
Libby worked on the painting still standing in the conservatory until Andrew called later in the morning.
‘I’ve been let off the hook. Although they have asked that I keep them informed of my movements.’
‘Did they say why? Who was it told you?’
‘Just an officer, and I’ve no idea why. I assume they’d been in touch with Ronald Deakin and my wife to confirm alibis and so on.’
‘Probably,’ said Libby, and relayed the information about Harry. ‘We’ll keep you posted if you like.’
Ian was the next to call.
‘Andrew told me you’d let him off the hook,’ said Libby. ‘I said we’d keep him posted about Harry.’
‘Now, Libby, that’s exactly what you must not do,’ said Ian. ‘We don’t want anyone knowing how Harry is, or even if he’s regained consciousness.’
‘Oh. In case they try again, you mean?’
‘Possibly. I’ve spoken to Harry, who doesn’t remember much about it except hearing something outside. And Ronald Deakin confirms that he knew nothing about Andrew until he sent a letter after Matthew’s death.’
‘Eh? You mean Matthew left a letter for him?’
‘Yes. Apparently there were several things he left, including the letter from Matthew to Harry.’
‘The one where we learnt who Hal’s mum was.’
‘Yes. I shall be talking to her, too.’
‘Meanwhile what about Keith Franklin? Are you going over to see him?’
‘Yes. You’ve seen the house, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, it’s called Beech Manor. There’s a village shop run by a really nice bloke called Bernie Small. He knows the sisters, including Celia, and grew up with Amanda Clipping.’
‘That is actually a help, Libby, believe it or not. If I can, I’ll let you know how things go. And don’t spread this around. I shouldn’t be telling you anything.’
‘I know, and I’ll only tell Pete and Ben.’
‘And Fran. One of her insights would help.’
‘I know. Ben and I were only saying how she doesn’t seem to get them any more, although she did have a brief one on the Island, but it didn’t signify anything.’
‘What was it?’ Ian was alert. ‘Do you remember?’
‘First of all, she knew I wanted to talk about Harry as soon as we met her off the ferry. And she wondered if Keith Franklin thought the money should go to him.’
‘Based on – what?’
‘She wasn’t sure herself,’ said Libby. ‘You could always call her and ask. I’m going to call the hospital and see if Ben and I can visit Harry.’
Permission given, Libby left a message for Fran and one for Peter and went up to the Manor to tell Ben. Hetty gave them lunch and a basket of biscuits and fruit for Harry.
‘That hospital food’s no good for yer,’ she said, as she saw them off.
‘That’s as good as asking us to give him her love,’ said Ben, as he drove down the drive. ‘Now, tell me everything that happened this morning.’
Libby repeated the substance of her phone calls.
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ said Ben. ‘But at least Ian’s got things to look at, now.’
‘I’d love to know what Keith Franklin has to say for himself. And where La Clipping comes into it.’ Libby peered into Hetty’s basket. ‘Harry won’t eat all this.’
‘Neither will you,’ warned Ben.
Harry was weak, pale and still hooked to various machines, but appeared to be pleased to see them. He was in a room of his own, and the only sign that anything about this particular patient was unusual was the presence of a uniformed officer seated in the corridor outside.
‘I feel like a criminal,’ he whispered. ‘I mean, he can’t ask every white coat that comes in here if they’re real, can he?’
‘I expect it’s his presence alone which would stop someone,’ said Peter. ‘What have you got there?’
‘Hetty sent it,’ said Libby, tilting it to show Harry. ‘She said hospital food was awful.’
‘Lovely, but I can’t eat much. Grapes would be nice.’
‘Bother, there aren’t any in here.’ Libby poked among the contents of the basket.
‘I’ll run down to the hospital shop,’ said Ben. ‘They’re bound to have some.’
‘What news, then?’ asked Peter.
Libby smiled at Harry. ‘Andrew’s gone home and sent his love and Ian’s gone to the Island to talk to Keith Franklin.’
‘They’ve found him?’ said Harry.
‘Staying in Beech Manor. You know, Amanda Clipping’s house.’
‘Does that mean anything?’ Harry frowned, and Libby explained about the meeting in the pub near Parkhurst Forest.
‘And that was the bloke who ran you over?’ Harry reached out a hand.
‘Nearly. And tried to break into the caff.’ Libby took the hand.
‘And bashed me on the head, too,’ said Harry.
‘Have you remembered?’ asked Peter.
‘No, just guessing.’ Harry smiled weakly.
Ben came back with a sanitised plastic bag of grapes which Peter washed at the little sink.
‘Have they said any more about when you can come home?’ asked Libby.
‘Not yet. I’ve got to be observed. And they might not have to operate after all.’ Harry gave a tired smile. ‘Thank God.’
‘Thank the person who did it not hitting you hard,’ said Peter, handing over grapes.
Ben and Libby stayed for another half an hour, but Harry was obviously tired, and they left with instructions to call Donna and apprise her of the situation, and to go into The Pink Geranium and cancel any bookings made for the foreseeable future.
‘They’ve all got telephone numbers,’ said Peter. ‘And use the caff phone. You don’t want to run up a bill.’
&n
bsp; ‘Awful to see him looking like that,’ said Libby, as Ben drove out of the hospital car park.
‘Good to see him awake, though. Not as bad as they thought at first,’ said Ben.
‘No.’ Libby frowned. ‘But you wonder why not?’
‘Eh?’ Ben shot her a quick startled look.
‘Eyes on the road, Wilde. No, I meant if someone has been after Harry, wouldn’t it have made sense to hit him a lot harder when they caught up with him?’
Ben thought for a moment. ‘But Harry went out into the garden because he heard a noise. I would have thought that he was hit just so the person could escape.’
‘But in that case, what did the person want? Were they looking for something, the same as they were in the caff?’
‘They wouldn’t expect someone to be in the caff in the morning, and they may have thought they could get in to the cottage while the boys were asleep. Because Peter’s so often there during the day.’ Ben was frowning at the road ahead. ‘So it looks as though they think there’s something to find, at least. Nothing else explains it.’
‘But Harry hasn’t got anything.’ Libby looked bewildered. ‘That can’t be it, Ben.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Let’s just hope Ian has some news from the Island.’
Chapter Thirty-three
Peter came back from hospital and joined Libby and Ben for one of Libby’s throw-it-all-together meals on Monday evening. The doctors were cautiously pleased with Harry, and said he could even be released by the end of the week.
‘That’s excellent,’ said Libby. ‘I wonder how long before he’s fit to work?’
‘Too long for Harry, I bet,’ said Ben, helping himself to rice. ‘He’ll want to get back as soon as he gets out.’
‘He’s already said if he gets out on Friday he’ll open on Tuesday,’ said Peter. ‘At least he’ll rest for the weekend. But we’ll see. He might feel too crap to bother.’
‘Ben’s got a theory about the attack,’ said Libby. ‘Tell him, Ben.’
‘I can see the logic,’ said Peter, when he’d finished, ‘but as Lib says, Harry hasn’t got anything.’
‘But someone thinks he has,’ said Libby, ‘just like the sisters think he has. Or thinks we’ve found something.’
LS 13 - Murder in a Different Place Page 22