‘Would Tony have known about the gold at the gatehouse, Betty? It’s important,’ Tremayne said.
‘Not that I know, but then Ethan never had time to explain to me the full story. He just gave me the paper with the directions. Maybe Tony knew something. He always seemed to know what was going on in the village. He was a strange man in many ways, decent, though. That’s why I let Gerry and Marcia come out here.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know, stories.’
‘You’ll need to be specific,’ Tremayne said. Clare knew what Betty was staying. She realised that Tremayne was being obtuse, attempting to bring out information that may or may not be relevant.
‘Tony and young children.’
‘Did he have any history?’
‘No, but he’s here alone, and I never saw him with a girlfriend, not even when he was younger. Not that he was a bad-looking man, but he was always a bit odd.’
‘Odd? You’d better tell us all you know,’ Tremayne said.
Betty took a deep breath. ‘There were some in the family that thought he was gay, not that I ever saw any evidence.’
‘Did it matter?’
‘Not to me, but there were others who disapproved.’
‘Such as?’
‘Gavin didn’t like it much, the reason he never came out here very often.’
‘Do you suspect that Ethan and Martin were interfered with?’
‘Ethan would have told me. Gavin never had a girlfriend, either. I read about it once in a magazine, or maybe it was a documentary on the television. The young child scarred for life, unable to show his emotions, afraid of rejection, afraid of intimacy.’
‘Mother, Gavin wasn’t like that,’ Marcia said. ‘He used to look me up and down when I was in my teens. He wasn’t gay, maybe just not interested in being with anyone, and besides, I thought he used to go around to that woman who lived not far from us.’
‘Which woman?’ Clare asked.
‘Grace Bethany,’ Betty said.
‘A prostitute?’
‘Not that you’d know.’
‘Are you certain about her?’
‘It’s a few years since we’ve seen her, but yes, she was on the game. And Gavin, he used to go around there, so did Ethan sometimes. What with Martin, they probably got a family concession.’
‘Mother!’
‘What do you want me to say, Marcia? There are four Mitchells dead now, and you want me to protect the good name of your father, and don’t pretend you didn’t know.’
‘I was five when my father went to prison.’
‘Maybe you didn’t know, but your father was no saint, thankfully. Apart from his pathetic attempts at being the master criminal, he was a good man, a good lover, too.’
Tremayne realised that the Mitchells were an open family, too open for him. Yarwood, he knew, more reserved than she’d admit to, would be embarrassed by the conversation. Even when he had teased her about Harry Holchester, and their romantic getaways, she’d blush. Not that it had stopped him asking.
‘Gavin was looking for the gold,’ Clare said. ‘He was nowhere near it, but someone else was there. Could it have been Tony?’
Tremayne wasn’t sure where his sergeant was heading.
‘Would Tony have been capable of killing someone?’
‘Capable, but it couldn’t have been him,’ Betty said.
‘Why?’
‘He’d been in the army, sergeant major. You’d not know it looking at him, but he had a ferocious bark when he was younger. One of our friends remembered him from training, said he was a right bastard, having them marching cross-country if anyone didn’t keep in step. But in the village, he rarely raised his voice. He had a medal for gallantry, the Military Cross. He told me once that he had killed a man in battle, not that he was proud of it. I don’t think he even had a weapon in the house.’
‘We’ve not found one.’
‘What would he want with the gold? Betty said. ‘His house was paid for, and he had his pension.’
‘Greed and passion, the two variables that transform the most benign into raging psychopaths,’ Tremayne said.
‘Philosophical,’ Clare said.
‘It’s true, I know that.’
***
Tremayne and Clare headed back to Tony Mitchell’s house. Betty and Marcia had left for Salisbury, another family gathering, another death to explain. Clare felt sorry for Marcia, not sure what to make of Betty.
Back at Mitchell’s house, Tremayne took a seat, pulled out a cigarette from its packet. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Yarwood. And don’t go telling Jean. She’ll have me drying the dishes as penance,’ he said.
‘We’re keeping notes.’
‘We’ve spoken about getting married again.’
‘You’ve mentioned it before. And why not?’
‘It seems silly at our age, and besides, people don’t get married anymore.’
‘When have other people worried you? If the two of you want to get married, then get married.’
‘We’d want you there, in some official capacity.’
‘I can’t be the best man, can I?’
‘We’ll figure something out.’
‘I’d be honoured,’ Clare said.
‘How about you and the doctor? Any chance of a double wedding?’
‘Keith Tremayne, a romantic. Wait until I tell them back at the station. Maybe you could start up a lonely hearts column in the police gazette. Advice for those in love.’
‘Yarwood, your cynicism knows no bounds. I’ve created a monster.’
‘You’ve created a good police officer, and you know it,’ Clare said. It was a moment of respect, even fondness, between the two police officers. Tremayne knew it could not last. It was a murder enquiry, and the stakes were high. Apart from the murder of Martin Mitchell, eighteen years previously, there was no culprit.
‘Getting back to the reason we get paid, who killed Gavin Mitchell?’ Tremayne said.
‘If we discount Tony, then there are Eric Wilson and Bob Galton.’
‘Does it have to be a man?’
‘Not necessarily, but the knife was thrust deep. It would have required some force.’
‘Either Wilson or Galton could have done it. Wilson’s a sharp businessman, possibly in financial trouble. If he did, then did Julie know? What about their marriage? Is it solid or on the rocks?’
‘I’ll talk to Julie,’ Clare said.
‘I’ll put the heat on Wilson.’
‘Bob Galton?’
‘Who knows with that man. He’s not the most impressive, probably doesn’t even cheat on his taxes,’ Tremayne said.
‘Do you?’
‘You know what I mean. The man gives the impression of being honest, too honest for me.’
‘You’ve spent too long with villains. Some people are naturally good and decent.’
‘Nobody’s that good. Everyone’s got a vice, something they’re not proud of. Are you saying you never once hopped off a bus without paying?’
‘Never.’
‘I don’t believe it.’
Clare failed to say that her parents always ensured she had a pass, and the need to pay had not arisen. She also forgot to mention that at the age of eleven, she had stolen a bar of chocolate from a shop.
‘Are you still here?’ Jim Hughes said as he came out of the front door of Mitchell’s house.
‘We were waiting for you,’ Clare said.
‘It’s a good job you’re here, saves me phoning.’
‘You’ve found something?’ Tremayne said, casually throwing what remained of his cigarette over the front fence of the garden and into the road.
‘I found this,’ Hughes said, as he handed over a notebook. ‘Check on the second page.’
Tremayne stood up from where he was sitting, holding one of his knees as he did so. Clare could tell that the cartilage in his knee joint was not as good as it used to be. She made a mental note: Jean to purchase
tablets for sore knee joints.
Tremayne rested the notebook on a small garden table and opened it at page two. ‘What do you make of this, Yarwood?’ he said.
‘It depends how old it is.’
‘The calendar on the inside front cover shows it to be seventeen years.’
‘Which means that Tony Mitchell knew where the gold was. All these years and he never touched it.’
‘But why? It makes no sense,’ Clare said.
‘It’s not the same handwriting as the note you had before,’ Hughes said. ‘We found other examples of Tony Mitchell’s writing. He drew this map.’
In front of the three of them was a detailed map of where the twenty bars had been buried.
‘Either he was in on it, or he had seen the twins, made the connection and found the gold,’ Tremayne said.
‘We’ll never know,’ Clare said.
‘Anything else in the house?’
‘Only this,’ Hughes said as he handed over a piece of paper. ‘We found it pinned to the refrigerator.’
‘It’s a phone number,’ Clare said.
‘Yarwood, get a check on who Tony Mitchell phoned in the last two weeks. If this number was dialled, then there’s something amiss,’ Tremayne said.
‘Could it be the person who killed Gavin Mitchell?’ Clare said.
‘Unlikely, but more people knew about the buried treasure than we originally assumed.’
‘But no one touched it.’
‘That’s another mystery.’
Chapter 16
The Mitchells met. This time not at Julie and Eric Wilson’s house, but at Betty and Bob’s. Eric Wilson was not present, which was as well, as there was not much room. Julie did not like being in the house; too many memories of where she had come from.
Sandra, a woman who prided herself on her housekeeping, was also present. She looked around her at the dust on the window sill, the hairs on the carpet from a dog, the newspaper thrown to one side.
‘You’ve heard the news,’ Betty said.
‘If you had not hidden those three bars, Gavin would still be alive,’ Sandra said.
Betty had considered it before. She knew the woman was right. ‘I was wrong,’ she said.
‘You did it for the right reason,’ Julie said, defending her sister. ‘We always thought Gavin had more sense.’
‘He saw his chance,’ Bob said. He had been tempted to take the three bars for himself and to melt them down. He had a friend whom he could trust. Then, over time, he would slowly sell the gold in small quantities, no questions asked. That way, he could give Betty a better life without raising suspicion. He looked over at her, knew that he loved her, knew that she envied her sister with her builder husband. Galton knew he would never be a high-flyer, but he could be better than he was.
‘The gold has been a curse,’ Marcia said.
‘The twins were always going to come to a sticky end,’ Julie said.
‘We’re missing the point,’ Betty said. ‘Gavin was looking for the three bars, so was someone else. And why would any of you want to look? I had offered them to you with no conditions.’
‘You never told anyone it was near to where the other bars had been hidden,’ Marcia said.
‘Gavin must have figured it out, or he was just fishing around, hoping he would strike lucky.’
‘After the police had been over the area, not a chance.’
‘They were in the wrong area,’ Betty said. ‘Someone in this room killed Gavin, or maybe it was Eric.’
‘Don’t you go accusing my husband just because he’s not here,’ Julie said, anxious to defend her husband, not sure of his innocence.
‘I’m not accusing anyone, but don’t you see it? If one of us is a murderer, then who’s next? Who knows something about the gold, and how it came to be in the back of that van? And why would Ethan and Martin think about removing twenty bars and placing them into that hole in the ground? Neither would have scored ten out of ten for original thought. If they had, they would have figured out what to do with the gold before they took it. There are plenty of rogues who would have helped.’
‘Are you saying they didn’t know it was gold in the back of that van?’ Marcia said.
‘I’m not saying anything, just speculating. Someone’s a murderer, and it’s more than likely one of us. And if there are more secrets, secrets that we may know, may not even attach much significance to, then we’re all potential targets.’
‘Or potential murderers,’ Sandra said. ‘Count me out, I can’t move enough to kill anyone.’
‘If the look in your eyes could kill, I’d be stone dead by now,’ Betty said.
‘You killed Gavin, and what about Tony? Did you kill him, and who was in that church with Ethan? Maybe you didn’t want him back. You were willing to keep three of the bars for yourself. And then what? Take off with your dopey husband, go and live in Spain. Have you considered Gerry, he’s in for a stretch in prison?’
‘You foul-mouthed woman, how dare you to insult my husband.’
‘Mother, stop it. You as well, Sandra. We should be united, not fighting like this.’
‘Marcia’s right,’ Bob said. ‘Gavin was foolish to look for the gold, but so was someone else. Could anyone else have known?’
‘Such as?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe someone in the village saw me that night when I moved the three bars,’ Betty said. ‘It’s a small village, news travels. It wouldn’t have been hard to make the connection.’
***
Tremayne perused Tony Mitchell’s phone records. ‘Here it is. Two phone calls in the last week. Yarwood, you’re driving.’
Selwyn Cosford had not expected another visit from Tremayne and Clare. ‘You’ve had some more deaths,’ he said.
‘It’s official,’ Tremayne said. ‘We need to sit down and talk.’
‘In the library, if that’s okay.’ The man was ingratiating, almost as if he had expected the visit. The three sat down on dark brown leather chairs. ‘I often come in here for the peace and solitude.’
‘Tony Mitchell,’ Tremayne said.
‘I thought you’d be here sometime about him.’
‘Why?’
‘We’ve known each other for a long time. We were friends back when neither of us had any money. I trusted the man.’
‘Did you?’
‘Tremayne, I’ve known you for a long time as well. What do you think?’
‘I’m not paid to think. I’m paid to prove. We’ve nothing against you apart from you trying to offer me a sweetener.’
Cosford looked over at Clare.
‘Don’t worry about Yarwood,’ Tremayne said. ‘She’ll not say anything. If you’re guilty of a misdemeanour, even murder, it’s not going to look good for me.’
‘And me,’ Clare said. ‘I’ve kept quiet as well.’
‘Tremayne, Clare, you misjudge me. I don’t bribe, I assist. And Tony Mitchell and our friendship, it’s harmless.’
‘You never mentioned this friendship before.’
‘Why would I? Tony was a secretive man. He’s not an open book like me. Hell, I’m even in Wikipedia. Tony preferred to keep his past hidden, and he didn’t go around talking about what he knew and who he knew. He could have used our friendship to his benefit, but he never did. Not once did he ask a favour, and there were times when he could have used it.’
‘Such as?’
‘Have you checked his military record?’
‘Not yet. Betty Mitchell mentioned that he had killed a man once.’
‘Amazing she knew that much. Tony Mitchell was your bona fide hero. We were in Malaya together, during the Malay Emergency. We had walked into an ambush. It was Tony who killed three of the insurgents and got us out of there. He received a medal for bravery.
‘We never found a medal at his house.’
‘Tony was not proud of what he had done. As far as he was concerned, he was responding to the situation, and the fact that his life was in danger didn
’t cross his mind. The medal’s somewhere, although knowing Tony he may just have thrown it out. Just because I kept in contact with him doesn’t mean I murdered him.’
‘You could always get someone to do it for you,’ Tremayne said.
‘No doubt I could, but what’s the point. I’ve got plenty of money, a few gold bars here and there are not going to affect my life.’
‘But you want to take on the insurance company.’
‘Haven’t you? Haven’t they sucked the money off you for years, and then, in your hour of need, they’re there with their excuses, the clauses in the contract that everyone fails to read.’
‘They’ve cheated me,’ Tremayne said.
‘Tony told me about his relatives. He liked Gavin and his sister. He didn’t think they had much going for them. The twins, Ethan and Martin, he thought they were wasters, although they had both married well. It goes to show, women are fickle. Now me, I chose my wives according to how they suited my station in life.’
‘Not out of love?’ Clare said.
‘Love, yes, of course,’ Cosford said, but not very convincingly.
‘How many wives?’ Tremayne asked.
‘Check on Wikipedia. They’re listed there.’
‘I’m asking you.’
‘Okay. Apart from my first wife, there was Cherie, and then Meg, and Bronwyn. She was the perfect woman.’
‘What happened?’ Clare said.
‘On holiday in Greece. We were coming around a corner, she was driving. A pothole in the road and the car flipped.’
‘I’m sorry about that, painful memories.’
‘For a few years. And then there was Sally. I liked her, but it didn’t last long. The last I heard, she had found herself someone in the Caribbean.’
‘That’s a few,’ Tremayne said.
‘You met a few of them over the years.’
‘I’d agree about Bronwyn. She was also the only one close to your age. Sally wasn’t.’
The DI Tremayne Thriller Box Set Page 104