Rogue in Porcelain

by Anthea Fraser

  ‘DI Barrett and DS Bright, Chilswood CID, sir,’ he said, in a completely different tone. ‘We’ve been speaking to your wife about the recent suspicious death.’

  ‘So I gathered.’ Max’s voice was still icy. Rona wondered how much he’d heard.

  ‘You never met the deceased yourself, sir?’

  ‘That’s correct.’

  Max stood waiting, his face impassive, and Barrett’s eyes dropped. ‘I think we have all we need for the moment,’ he said after a pause. ‘We won’t take up any more of your time.’

  Max turned back into the hall and opened the front door. ‘Good morning, officers,’ he said evenly, and closed it behind them.

  ‘Odious man, indeed,’ he remarked to Rona. ‘How long had he been giving you grief?’

  ‘He was just warming up when you appeared.’

  ‘Well, don’t let him get to you. From what I heard, his manner was hardly professional. Any more of it, and I’ll report him.’

  ‘My knight in shining armour!’ Rona said, and he laughed.

  ‘Come on, we’ve wasted enough of the morning. Let’s drive out somewhere for a pub lunch and a good long walk.’

  Gus, picking up on the last word, looked up expectantly, tail wagging.

  ‘You’re on!’ Rona said.

  The police – though not Barrett and his henchman – also called at Maple Drive, searched Julia’s room and interviewed Avril. According to Lindsey, who, fortunately, was there at the time, they’d asked what Avril knew of Julia’s background – which was virtually nothing – and when she’d last seen her. Apparently she’d left the house at nine thirty on Friday morning, saying she’d be home about six and would cook Avril a special meal, since it was to be her ‘last supper’. A strangely prophetic phrase, Rona thought with a shudder.

  ‘I’ve persuaded Mum to go to the library as usual tomorrow,’ Lindsey finished. ‘I’ll have to work myself, and it’s better than her sitting around here by herself. No one’s likely to connect her with Julia – as far as the public’s concerned, there’s no local link – and since it’s only for the morning, it shouldn’t be too much of a strain. In fact, it’ll take her mind off things.’

  Rona hoped she was right.

  Now that the immediate shock was lessening, Rona’s thoughts had begun to revert to the letter she’d found and, more personally, to her last encounter with Finlay. At best, it would make their next meeting embarrassing. Perhaps, she thought wryly, she should ask Lindsey’s advice on the protocol in such circumstances.

  Had events not overtaken them, she might well have confided in her sister, simply for the relief of being able to talk about it and thrash out her reactions. There was, of course, no question of things going any further; her main fear was that her instinctive response might have given him the opposite impression.

  In the meantime, although she’d promised not to divulge the letter’s contents, she wrote out as much of it as she could remember, glad of something far removed from present worries on which to exercise her mind. Had old George so far defied convention as to marry his mistress, thereby creating all manner of problems for his descendants?

  Rona was engaged in transcribing the notes she’d made in the museum – the task having been set aside for more pressing matters – when, on the Tuesday morning, the phone interrupted her. She half expected to hear Lindsey, but the voice that greeted her was not her sister’s.

  ‘Rona – hi! Tess here.’

  Rona tensed. Tess Barclay, though a friend, was also a reporter on the Stokely Gazette, and she was instantly on her guard. Unnecessarily, as it turned out.

  ‘Your cover’s blown, chuck,’ Tess informed her breezily. ‘Been up to your old tricks, haven’t you?’

  Without hope, Rona played innocent. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Unearthing dead bodies all over the county.’

  ‘Oh, Tess, you’re not going to drag me into it, are you?’

  ‘You’re already in it, love,’ Tess retorted. ‘The mysterious “friend” who happened to be on the spot. Since when were you a friend of Finlay Curzon? Anyway,’ she went on, mercifully not waiting for an answer, ‘the case is hot news – and so, for that matter, are you, after all your previous doings. It’s a wonder you’ve escaped thus far – sheer luck, if you ask me.’

  ‘So how did you hear?’

  ‘Our crime reporter has a nose like a bloodhound. Even looks like one, come to think of it. So how about helping out an old pal and giving me an interview?’

  ‘I’d really rather not, Tess.’

  ‘Oh, come on! A spot of publicity never hurt anyone, least of all a writer. Someone will be after you, that’s for sure; it might as well be me. And you owe me, remember, over that other case.’

  ‘It wasn’t a “case”,’ Rona returned waspishly, ‘and if you remember, the debt was paid in the form of a meal out.’

  ‘Look, this is urgent and I haven’t time to plead. Because of Easter, everything’s brought forward and tomorrow’s press day. So smooth down your feathers, there’s a love, and give me a phone interview.’

  ‘But you must know all the facts. I can’t tell you anything new.’

  ‘You can tell me what the hell you were doing in a cemetery in Chilswood on a Friday evening. Not, I presume, one of your usual haunts – if you’ll excuse the pun!’

  Reluctantly, and with as little detail as she could get away with, Rona went through her story.

  ‘And you just happened to be with her ex’s brother when you found her,’ Tess mused. ‘Isn’t that rather stretching coincidence?’

  Rona said woodenly, ‘He was showing me the family plot.’

  Tess sighed. ‘You’re not being very helpful. You’ve forgotten to mention, for instance, that you knew the girl yourself, and that she was staying with your mother.’

  Rona felt a spurt of anger. ‘Where did you get that from?’

  ‘The police were a bit more forthcoming than usual.’

  ‘Bloody Barrett!’ Rona said under her breath.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing. But that proves my point – you already know as much as I do. Look, I’m sorry, Tess, I’m really not trying to be difficult.’

  ‘You could have fooled me.’

  ‘It’s just that it’s a bit too close to home, and I’d prefer to keep a low profile.’

  ‘Not much chance of that, I fear. So – you’re turning the spotlight on the Curzons. How are you finding them?’

  ‘Very helpful,’ Rona said steadily.

  ‘This must have been a bit of a shaker, though. What about the one who was married to her? Know him?’

  ‘I’ve met him, yes; it was a terrific shock for him.’

  ‘I’ll bet it was. Entre nous, and strictly not for publication, do you think he did it?’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Tess! Of course he didn’t!’

  ‘Well, he’d certainly be my prime suspect.’

  ‘One thing, Tess: say what you have to about me, but please don’t reveal she’d been staying with Mum. It has nothing to do with the case, and she’s upset enough without everyone quizzing her about it.’

  Tess thought for a minute. Then she said, ‘OK, fair enough. If it gets out, it won’t be through me.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘That’s another debt you’ve clocked up, buddy-buddy.’

  ‘Supper anytime, at a restaurant of your choice.’

  Thankfully, Rona put down the phone. So once again she’d be hitting the headlines, she thought resignedly. Well, it probably wouldn’t make much difference.

  That afternoon, Finlay phoned, and Rona felt her cheeks burn as she returned his cautious greeting.

  ‘I hope you’ve managed to recover from that ghastly business last Friday,’ he said hesitantly.

  ‘Just about, I think. What about the rest of you?’

  ‘The police interviewing has been pretty intensive, and obviously that’s a strain, especially on the older generation.’ He paused, then
went on rapidly, ‘Rona, before we go any further, I really must apologize for my behaviour the other night. It was – totally uncalled for.’

  She said carefully, ‘Don’t worry about it; we were all under a lot of stress.’

  ‘That’s very generous of you. May I hope I’m forgiven, then?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then would you consider meeting me for a cup of tea? There are quite a few things we need to discuss, and it would be easier here; the press are everywhere in Chilswood.’

  ‘You’re in Marsborough?’

  ‘Yes, I have some business to see to, but I’ll have finished by about three thirty, if that’s convenient? At the Clarendon, say?’

  Rona hesitated. She’d not been to the hotel since traumatic events had overtaken them all at Christmas, but she couldn’t stay away for ever, and afternoon tea was as innocuous a way as any of re-establishing herself there.

  ‘That would be fine,’ she said.

  Twelve

  Finlay was already there when she walked into the hotel lounge, and stood up to greet her. He was wearing a light grey suit and a blue tie that echoed the colour of his eyes, now watching her a little anxiously. He held out a hand, and she shook it.

  ‘Thanks for coming, Rona.’ He pulled out her chair, and they both sat down. ‘I’ve ordered tea for two. I hope that’s all right?’

  ‘Thank you, yes.’

  He sat back in his chair. ‘Well, where do we start? The family have all been interviewed, poor Nick, of course, getting a particular grilling. No doubt you’ve also had the police round?’

  She nodded. ‘Sunday morning, no less.’

  ‘What were they concentrating on?’

  ‘How well I knew Julia, what she had and hadn’t told me. I don’t think I was much help.’

  ‘You’d really no idea she’d been married to Nick? It seems incredible, if you were as friendly as you say, and she knew you were writing about the firm.’

  ‘Exactly. You’d expect her to have at least mentioned it, wouldn’t you? To be honest, I feel rather hurt; it seems she wasn’t being genuinely friendly, just using me to find out about your family.’

  He frowned. ‘Find out what? Hell, she knew us better than you do.’

  Their tea arrived and was laid out on the table between them: sandwiches, scones with jam and cream, little iced cakes. When they were alone again, Rona said, ‘Frankly, I don’t know what she was after. My mother says she asked a lot of questions, about my methods of research among other things. And don’t forget she was expecting to come back soon; perhaps, having done the groundwork, she meant to dig deeper then.’

  She poured the tea, and handed Finlay a cup. ‘Anyway, how are things going at your end? There haven’t been any arrests, have there?’

  ‘Not as yet.’ He passed her the plate of sandwiches. ‘Nick was steeling himself to identify her, but her brother came up from Dorset. Couldn’t wait to get away again, according to Nick, who says he’s a pretty useless character. He and his wife have never got on with Julia.’

  ‘Had she no one else?’

  ‘No, there were just the two of them, and their parents are dead.’

  ‘It seems dreadful, that she’s getting no support from her family. She was such a happy, friendly girl.’

  Finlay pulled a face. ‘We’ll have to agree to differ on that one.’

  Rona was silent for a moment, then came to a decision. ‘Could I ask you something?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘When we were at your brother’s on Friday, I overheard you talking about someone called Nigel.’

  ‘Ah. Yes.’

  ‘Was it by any chance Nigel de Salis, who has the china shop in Woodbourne?’

  Finlay stared at her. ‘Good God, don’t say you know him, as well?’

  ‘Not really, no. But after I’d had lunch with your sister, I was passing the shop and noticed the wide range of Curzon in the window. So I went in. Mr de Salis came to serve me, but when I said I was writing about the family, his whole manner changed.’

  ‘I bet it did,’ Finlay said.

  ‘So it was that Nigel? He knew Julia?’

  ‘You could say so. He was the one she ran away with.’

  Rona stared at him. ‘But – he came back?’

  Finn nodded. ‘After about six months. His wife forgave him.’

  ‘What did Julia do?’

  Finn lifted his shoulders.

  ‘She didn’t try to make up with Nick?’

  ‘I don’t think so, but he wouldn’t have had her back. The whole business hit him hard, and he was very bitter about it.’

  Would Finlay have his own wife back, given the chance? Rona wondered. And had she also gone off with another man?

  She said quickly, ‘Could Julia have been trying to get back at him in some way?’

  ‘I can’t imagine why; it was she who left him.’ He passed his cup across for a refill, and Rona silently complied. ‘It was a shock, I can tell you, when the police asked about Nigel; I’d no idea they were still in touch.’

  ‘So I suppose he’ll have been interviewed, too.’

  ‘Without a doubt.’

  ‘I wonder how his wife took that. She was very keen to stress they only dealt with your sales reps and didn’t know the family.’

  ‘Wishful thinking!’ Finlay commented.

  ‘Have they any children?’

  ‘I believe so, yes. In their teens.’

  ‘What a mess,’ Rona said soberly.

  ‘Murder usually is. And divorce, for that matter.’

  She felt it safer to make no reply.

  ‘About that letter,’ Finlay went on after a moment. ‘I spoke to Uncle Charles about it, and amazingly enough, another one came to light during the move.’

  ‘From Spencer?’ Rona asked eagerly.

  ‘Yes. It seems to have been written after the one you found, regretting he’d been so explicit and asking Frederick to destroy it. They were all wondering what had been in the first letter, and I was able to tell them.’

  ‘Was there any truth in it, that George had married that woman?’

  ‘The jury’s still out on that one. However, it’s spurred Uncle to do some searching and see what he can unearth. Frederick was a bit of a hoarder; there are reams of papers and files and Lord knows what, that Uncle’s had neither the time nor the inclination to go through. He says he was waiting for someone to write the family history, in the hope they’d do it.’ He smiled at her. ‘So perhaps it’s up to you.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘I don’t see why not. Who knows what else might be waiting to be discovered? Would you be prepared to take it on, if the rest of the family agree?’

  ‘Like a shot!’ Rona said. ‘But surely, if this was what so worried your father—’

  ‘I shouldn’t put too much weight on that; as I said, it was only his illness magnifying things. I reckon this far down the line, its coming out can’t do much harm.’

  ‘But what about the child? Spencer was afraid he might claim an inheritance?’

  ‘According to the letter, the woman had been given a once-and-for-all settlement. That, apparently, was the usual practice in such cases. So, if you’re prepared to give it a try, and everyone’s in agreement, let’s go for it. They say that if you trace your ancestry, you’re likely to find someone hanged for sheep-stealing, so let’s see what we come up with. Anniversaries are a time for looking back, after all. Oh, and Uncle said to tell you they’re happy see you whenever you’re ready. That would be an opportunity to start the ball rolling.’

  Rona told Max about the proposition on the phone that evening.

  ‘Isn’t that beyond the call of duty?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m quite happy to do it. You know how I love ferreting about in family history.’

  ‘Will they pay you for it?’

  ‘Heavens, it never crossed my mind. It’s just an extension of what I’m already doing.’

  ‘But it will sav
e them the bother of sorting through all those papers, or paying an archivist to do it.’

  ‘A more pertinent question is whether or not Barnie will allow me extra space. We could be looking at three articles, if something worthwhile comes up. I’ll have a word with him, once I’ve seen Charles Curzon and have a better idea of what’s involved.’

  ‘On your own head be it,’ Max warned her.

  ‘It usually is!’ Rona replied. ‘Oh, and by the way, I’ll be featuring in the Stokely Gazette this week, thanks to Tess.’

  She went on to relay that morning’s phone call. ‘Tess said the police had been unusually forthcoming. In other words, that blasted Barrett has been spilling the beans.’

  ‘Well, it was bound to come out,’ Max soothed her. ‘I’ve been expecting it daily. Even if your pals at Curzon avoided naming you, all it needed was the right question at a press conference.’

  ‘Especially if it was Barrett who happened to be holding it.’

  ‘Don’t let him get to you, honey. In this instance, he’d only have been doing his job.’

  ‘Wasn’t that the Nazis’ excuse?’ Rona asked bitterly.

  Lindsey phoned the next morning.

  ‘Mum’s been fussing about Julia’s things,’ she told Rona. ‘They’re still in her room, and she has to get it ready for the new girl, who’s due on Tuesday. The only thing the police removed was her briefcase; they said her brother would collect the rest when he came to identify the body. Naturally we heard no more, and when I phoned to ask what was happening, they said he’d “declined” to take them, and that Julia’s flatmate would come for them. Talk about passing the buck. Anyway, I explained the position, stressing that it wasn’t up to Mum to clear the room so would they please chivvy the girl along; and the upshot is she’ll be here in the morning.

  ‘Which is the point of this call; Mum can’t face meeting her, or seeing Julia’s things being packed up, and I’ll be at work, so she wonders if you’d come over and supervise proceedings. Would that be a problem?’

  Rona’s heart sank; it wouldn’t be easy for her, either, though it was possible she’d learn something from the flatmate. In any case, she’d no option.