‘Unfortunately,’ Webb said drily, ‘he didn’t leave one this time.’
‘Reckon it was him though, don’t you, Guv?’
‘Let’s just say I wouldn’t be in his shoes.’
Dusk thickened the air as they turned into Station Road. ‘London tomorrow,’ Webb said. ‘We’ll have to look over the flat. If she left in a hurry, it might tell us something. Phone Hampstead when we get back, and ask them to fix accommodation.’
‘We’ll be staying overnight?’
‘Afraid so. The catering place won’t be open till Monday, and we’ll also have to see the Beresfords, which’ll mean a trip to Surrey. When you’ve done that, Ken, ring Mr Pendrick for a full description of Dean and get it into circulation. If he has a record, we can match up the prints. I’ll check on Pendrick’s car and arrange for Dean’s room to get the onceover.’
When Webb left his office an hour later he was still on duty, but at least business could now be mixed with pleasure. He had to see Hannah and learn what he could about Miss Yates and the Pendricks.
CHAPTER 6
‘David! Come in. Are you free this evening?’
He kissed her, feeling some of his tiredness seep away. ‘I shall be, but first I have to ask you some questions.’
She looked at him quickly and he wondered what she read in his face. She went ahead of him into the sitting-room, drawing the curtains on the outer darkness.
‘All right,’ she said quietly, seating herself opposite him. ‘What’s happened?’
He rubbed a hand across his face. ‘You’ve not had the news on today?’
‘No?’
‘The woman who was found at Chedbury has been identified. I’m sorry to tell you it was Nancy Pendrick.’
Her eyes filled with horror, and for a moment he was reminded of Rose. ‘Nancy Pendrick? But that’s terrible. She was a friend of my aunt’s.’
‘I know. Had you ever met her?’
Hannah shook her head, eyes still wide with concern. ‘Charlotte was telling me about them last weekend. She — ’ She gripped the arms of her chair. ‘David, she’s up there now. In Nancy’s flat. She won’t know anything about this.’
He came to his feet. ‘You’re sure?’
‘It was arranged at the party, so she could go round the sales.’
‘Damn!’
‘Does it matter?’
‘I wanted to see the place as Mrs Pendrick left it.’ He thought rapidly. ‘When was your aunt going up, do you know?’
‘On Friday. Nancy gave her the key, in case they missed each other.’
‘Have you got the phone number?’
As she shook her head, the phone started to ring. Hannah went to answer it and he relaxed slightly at her opening words.
‘I’ve just this moment heard — I can’t believe it. David’s here. I think he’d like a word with you.’
She turned, her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘It was on the early evening news.’
He took the phone from her. ‘Miss Yates? Webb here. I’m sorry about this. How long were you intending to stay?’
Charlotte’s voice reached him, less firm than usual. ‘Till tomorrow afternoon. I’d hoped to see some exhibitions, but now — ’
‘I’ll be up in the morning, and it’d be a great help if you could stay till I get there.’
A pause. Then, as she steadied herself, ‘Very well, Chief Inspector, I’ll wait for you.’
‘Thank you. I’ll be with you soon after ten. In the meantime, I’ll hand you back to Hannah.’
He returned to the fire, assessing the new development.
After a few minutes, Hannah joined him.
‘I’ve asked her to come here. She shouldn’t be alone — she’s had a bad shock.’ She looked up at him gravely. ‘You won’t bully her, will you, David?’
‘It’d take a better man than me to bully Miss Yates! How long has she known Nancy?’
‘Five years. It was she who introduced her to Oliver.’
‘Before or after his first wife was killed?’
Remembering Charlotte’s conjectures, Hannah caught her breath. They were unpleasantly relevant now. ‘Soon after,’ she answered in a low voice.
Her brief pause made Webb uneasy. ‘You’d been talking about the Pendricks. Can you remember what was said?’
‘It was just a recap, really, on how long she’d known them. Nothing important.’
‘It’s important to me, Hannah. That New Year party is all we have to go on, and Miss Yates was there. She could have noticed something without realizing its significance.’
‘Then I’m afraid you must ask her yourself. Her remarks were off-the-cuff and she might be wishing now she hadn’t made them.’
‘But it’s the first reaction I want, not a censored version! Why do people always clam up in a murder case? Misguided loyalty, I suppose.’ As she remained silent, he added more gently, ‘Did something strike her as wrong?’
‘She thought Nancy and Oliver’d had a row,’ Hannah said unwillingly.
That, he knew. Nevertheless, he said, ‘Why was that?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, David. You’ll have to ask Charlotte. It was only an impression.’
‘You’re not very helpful, are you? What do you think I’ll do, rush off half-cocked and arrest someone on your say-so? I’m trying to get the feel of the case, that’s all, get to know the dead woman. Somebody killed her, dammit. Don’t you want us to discover who?’
He turned away, running a hand over his hair. ‘I’m sorry. You’re upset and I shouldn’t shout at you. But I think you know more than you’re saying, and after a long day I’m tired enough to resent it.’
After a moment, Hannah said, ‘Have you been out at Frecklemarsh?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s a pretty little place, isn’t it?’
‘Not my cup of tea.’ He smiled wryly. ‘I’m not trying to be difficult, I just don’t like it. Give me the solid earthiness of Otterford or Larksworth. Frecklemarsh is a pseudo-village, where rich businessmen pretend to be farmers.’
‘A Petit Trianon?’ Hannah suggested.
‘What?’
‘Where Marie Antoinette played at milkmaids.’
‘You teachers! Yes, that kind of thing. And since The Gables is a popular place to take foreigners, no doubt there are hundreds of Germans and Frenchmen and Americans who think it’s a typical English village.’
‘I’m fond of it, but then I’m prejudiced. It was my grandparents’ home and I loved going to stay with them.’
‘So your mother and aunt were brought up there?’
‘Yes, but it wasn’t so built up then. Charlotte hardly knew anyone at the party, except the Beresfords.’
‘How does she know them?’
‘Their parents were friends. They played together as children.’
Again he sensed omission and again it irritated him. He’d never before found Hannah less than open, but it seemed she was honouring her aunt’s confidence. Still, he’d find out tomorrow. Bullying or not, he’d brook no prevarication from Charlotte Yates.
Meanwhile, since the atmosphere was not conducive to a relaxed evening, he would cut his losses and retire upstairs.
He said, ‘I’m sorry to have been the bearer of bad news, but I’ll leave you in peace now.’
She didn’t try to detain him, merely nodded and saw him to the door. He paused for a moment, looking down into her grave, troubled eyes. ‘Good night, Hannah.’
‘Good night.’
She waited till he reached the foot of the stairs, then closed the door behind him.
*
At Gables Lodge, Rose lay on her bed staring at the ceiling. Her face was streaked with tears, her breathing laboured from recent sobbing. You bastard! she thought. You rotten, murdering bastard! Then, with a renewed upsurge of tears, Oh Nancy, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I never meant this to happen!
*
Charlotte Yates opened the door. She was dressed in a black wool dress w
ith a high neck, black stockings and suede boots. As before, her only ornament was the jade pendant.
‘Come in, Chief Inspector. And Sergeant, is it? There’s some coffee ready. You must have made an early start.’
‘Thank you.’ They followed her down the minute hall to the living-room. It was pleasantly cluttered, a comfortable, lived-in room vibrant with the personality of its owner. On the desk stood a photograph in a silver frame. Webb walked over to look at it. It was of Nancy and Oliver on their wedding day.
He said without turning, ‘You were at the wedding, of course?’
‘I was, but why of course?’ She held out a coffee cup and he took it from her, seating himself in an easy chair. From the corner of his eye he saw Jackson ready with his pocket book.
‘Hannah told me you’d introduced the bride and groom.’
‘I see.’
And that, he reflected, was about all Hannah had told him, though he wouldn’t let Miss Yates know that. If she thought her comments had already been passed on, she might be more forthcoming.
‘You’d known them both some time?’
‘Oliver and I both grew up in Frecklemarsh, but I didn’t know him well till he married my friend, Avis Beresford.’
‘And was that marriage happy, do you think?’ Webb’s voice was casual, but he was watching her carefully and caught her swift glance. No doubt she was wondering how much Hannah had told him.
‘They were deeply in love, but that doesn’t necessarily make for a happy marriage.’
‘There was jealousy?’
‘I’m not a psychologist, Chief Inspector. I just know that at times both were intensely miserable. Such times may occur in all marriages; I’m not in a position to know.’
‘And this last one?’
‘Hannah may have told you,’ Charlotte said with dry emphasis, ‘that I was surprised by their decision to marry, particularly on Nancy’s part. But Oliver’s an attractive man and I imagine she was flattered by his attentions. He’s also successful, which is a quality Nancy admired. After her singularly unsuccessful first husband, that may well have swayed the balance.’
‘What kind of woman was she? We need to build up a picture of her.’
Charlotte stirred her coffee thoughtfully. ‘If one characteristic outshone the others, it was her honesty. She was completely straightforward herself and wouldn’t countenance underhandedness in others. She was also outspoken, which caused the odd ripple from time to time. For instance, she’d tell a chef to his face that his sauce was a disaster. You were never in doubt as to her opinion of you.’
‘Please go on, Miss Yates. This is just what we need.’
‘She was self-reliant: she’d had to be, both as a young girl and during her first marriage. Because of that, she gave the impression of bossiness, of wanting to “manage” people. She could be generous, but she’d a ruthless streak, particularly if her principles were involved. If someone had done wrong, it would be no use asking her to keep quiet.’
She smiled reflectively. ‘On one occasion she even turned Danny over to the police.’
‘For what?’
‘Burglary, I think. She wanted to teach him a lesson. He went to prison for six months, but apparently bore no grudges. When he came out, she took him back and the matter wasn’t mentioned again.’
‘Which says something for both of them. Did she make enemies?’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘That’s too strong a word. As I say, she didn’t waste time on tact, but there was no malice in her.’
Despite her disclaimer, Webb doubted if a psychologist could have given a fuller analysis.
‘Thank you, Miss Yates, that was very helpful. Now, I’d like you to think carefully. When you arrived here on Friday, was there anything to suggest Mrs Pendrick intended returning to the flat before your visit?’
‘Do you know, there was, now I think of it. For one thing, her lunch dishes were in the sink, which surprised me.’
‘There was only one plate?’
‘Yes.’
‘Could you tell what she’d eaten?’
‘Beans on toast, I think. There were crumbs by the toaster, and an empty tin in the waste-bin.’ Which confirmed Stapleton’s findings. ‘And although the guest-room bed was made up, there were no clean towels. Also, her toilet things were in the bathroom — toothbrush and so on. I assumed she’d two sets and kept one at Frecklemarsh.’
‘No scribbled message by the phone?’
‘I didn’t look.’
‘Then let’s look now.’
His hunch was correct. On the pad by the telephone, a Shillingham number had been jotted down. He’d check, but he was sure it was Mrs Tallow’s. Also on the table lay an engagement diary. Webb and Jackson, leaning over it together, exchanged a glance. An appointment for Wednesday afternoon had been scored through. At Webb’s nod, Jackson tore the top sheet from the pad and put it and the diary in his pocket. They returned to their seats and the questioning resumed.
‘Now, Miss Yates, the party last weekend. I gather you felt the atmosphere was strained?’
‘Hannah again?’
Treacherously he did not defend her, though he sensed Charlotte’s annoyance. She said levelly, ‘These people are my friends, Chief Inspector. I don’t care to discuss them with strangers.’
‘So was Mrs Pendrick your friend, and she was murdered. One of the others might have done it.’
He saw that he’d shaken her.
‘I thought it was a mugger, someone like that.’
‘I doubt it. Something important took her to Broadshire. She’d complained about the short week, yet she was back in Shillingham on Wednesday afternoon, and met her death there. Why, and at whose hand?’
Charlotte’s long, ringless fingers toyed with her pendant, but she made no comment.
‘So,’ Webb continued deliberately, ‘anything, no matter how vague, that you can tell me about that party could be of great value.’
Her eyes, large and grey and uncannily like Hannah’s, held his. ‘You really think her murderer could have been there?’
‘I’d say it’s very probable. So please, what made you feel something was wrong?’ The reason Pendrick had given was not necessarily the true one.
She gave a shrug. ‘You know how it is when people have had a row. They were overpolite to each other and gushing to everyone else. And they kept away from each other. Later, when the Fraynes arrived, I thought that might have been the reason for it.’
‘The Fraynes?’
‘The new doctor and his wife. Mrs Frayne was once engaged to Oliver.’
‘Is that so? What happened, do you know?’
‘Twenty-five years ago? It’s a familiar story. Avis set her cap at him, he fell wildly in love with her, ditched his fiancée and married her, all within the space of six weeks.’
‘He goes in for hasty marriages, doesn’t he? And they were all quite friendly at the party?’
‘As far as I could see.’
So Pendrick, who admitted to a row with his wife, had come face to face with a woman he’d once loved. And four days later, Nancy was murdered.
‘Did you notice anything else at the party? Anyone who seemed on edge, uncomfortable in any way?’
‘I don’t think so. Dr Frayne had too much to drink and had to be taken home. Otherwise there was nothing unusual.’
‘Who took him?’
‘I don’t remember their names. Two of Oliver’s golfing friends. They came back after delivering him.’
‘Did Mrs Pendrick talk with anyone in particular?’
‘Not that I noticed.’
‘And you didn’t hear her arrange to meet anyone during the week?’
‘Definitely not.’ She added suddenly, ‘Oliver phoned yesterday, to see if Nancy was here.’
‘Did he sound worried?’
‘No, just annoyed. He was surprised when I answered. Either she hadn’t told him I was coming, or he’d forgotten.’
‘How well di
d you know Mrs Pendrick’s first husband?’
‘Not at all. I didn’t meet Nancy till they’d separated.’
‘Did you know he was recently working at The Gables?’
‘Danny Dean was? How odd.’
‘Mrs Pendrick didn’t mention it, then?’
‘Not to me, but I hadn’t seen her for some time. I’m surprised Oliver allowed it.’
‘At first he didn’t realize who he was. Then his wife persuaded him to give Dean a chance.’
‘Yes,’ Charlotte said reflectively, ‘that sounds like Nancy.’
‘One final question, Miss Yates, for the record. Where were you last Wednesday afternoon?’
She returned his gaze. ‘In Oxford, Chief Inspector. Playing bridge, actually. I hardly ever play, but I did, thank God, last Wednesday. I can supply names for corroboration.’
‘If you would.’
She went to the telephone table and wrote on the pad. Then she handed the list to Webb.
‘For the record,’ she said.
‘Thank you. Now, we’ll take a look round before leaving, in case there’s anything we’ve missed.’
But the flat had nothing more to tell them. They returned to the living-room, where Charlotte was waiting.
‘Thank you, Miss Yates, you’ve been very helpful, and I’m grateful to you for staying till we got here. One last favour: do you by any chance know the Beresfords’ phone number?’
‘Yes, of course. It’s in my diary.’ She lifted the heavy handbag he’d seen before.
‘I believe they’re old friends of yours?’
‘Roger is, certainly. He was Avis’s twin.’
‘I didn’t know that. He must have felt her death very deeply.’
‘We all did.’ She found the number and read it out to him.
‘I’ll phone them now, if you’ll excuse me, and make an appointment.’
The voice from Chardsey informed him that Mr and the Honourable Mrs Beresford were spending the weekend in London. They needn’t go to Surrey after all. Webb dialled again. A woman’s voice answered, high-pitched and upper-class.
‘Mrs Beresford?’ (Honourable, my fanny!)
‘Speaking, yes.’
He identified himself. ‘I’m in London at the moment and I’d be grateful for a word with you both. What time would be convenient?’
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