Gifthorse: The next instalment of the riveting Marnie Walker series

by Leo McNeir

  She filled the wood burner with logs, adjusted the ventilator and wished Maurice a comfortable night. Before leaving, she reminded him he could contact her any time on the mobile.

  The evening air was mild on her cheeks, and she crossed the bridge hoping that Maurice was making progress. She looked across the canal to where the line of boats nestled together against the bank in the darkness. It almost seemed as if the whole canal world had come together to support Maurice and restore him to health. Marnie had arranged with Anne that they would meet at the end of the day for a nightcap in the office barn. She turned to take the path through the spinney, leaving Maurice to his rest in peace.

  Chapter 52

  Interrogation

  The day started so well. Marnie opened the porthole curtain and looked out on Saturday morning. The sun was already up in the sky, and the world looked as if spring had settled in. Opposite Thyrsis, the line of boats in their similar undercoat colours seemed to form a continuous protective wall. She was pleased to see faint wisps of smoke rising from the lum on Maurice’s boat.

  The mobile on the shelf above the bed began warbling while Marnie was putting on her slippers. Ralph reported fine weather in Washington and said he would much rather be with Marnie, planning an afternoon tootle on Sally Ann. Marnie brought him up-to-date on everything, and he rejoiced that Ben was out of hospital. He agreed with Marnie that Maurice would improve with better nourishment and make further strides when Donovan returned.

  Anne began her first list of the day over breakfast and raided the freezer in the office barn as soon as they had cleared the dishes away. She filled a hamper with a pack of tuna steaks and bags of new potatoes and broccoli, plus bananas, muesli bars and pots of raspberry fool.

  Meanwhile, Marnie called on Willow to see how Ben was faring. She was not surprised to learn that he was still in bed. The consultant had told him he would feel more tired than usual and needed plenty of rest for a few days until his strength returned. Willow offered to look in on Maurice at some point during the day. At first Marnie hesitated. She knew that Maurice wanted to keep to himself, but when Willow suggested she might take Ben, Marnie thought their visit would be welcome and she accepted.

  Her next call was to Maurice. She took it as a good sign that he sat up in bed and complained he had been too warm in the night. He asked her not to fill the stove at that time. If he felt chilly he would light it himself later on. She produced a breakfast comprising orange juice, rolls, jars of honey and marmalade and coffee. He announced that he would eat in the saloon and then go back to bed. A model patient, he declared. She also left a flask of soup in the galley and put the remaining orange juice in its container in the fridge. Promising to look in after her boat outing, she wished him a good day and reminded him to keep up the intake of fluids.

  As she was leaving, Marnie told Maurice that Willow might bring Ben to see him if he felt up to it later. Maurice considered the idea for a few seconds and acquiesced.

  On the way back to Sally Ann, Marnie stopped on the bridge and gazed out across the countryside. There was a light haze over the fields and meadows, and the air felt cool and moist on her cheeks. Turning her head, she caught a sudden reflection of sunlight where water lay in puddles in a field in the distance. Spring was settling in, and with it, Ben was on the mend. Even Maurice was looking brighter. A season of hope and renewal, she thought.

  *

  The spring sun was dipping towards the horizon when Sally Ann made her approach to Glebe Farm, with Marnie at the tiller for the last leg of the trip while Anne tidied up inside the boat. She emerged from the cabin smiling at the sight of the bright landscape surrounding their home. They cruised slowly past Glastonbury and slipped through the bridge hole.

  Marnie said something indistinct, but her voice had an anxious tone that made Anne uneasy. She turned to see two men standing on the bank beside Sally Ann’s empty docking space. She recognised them at once as Detective Chief Inspector Bartlett and Detective Sergeant Marriner. The welcome party did not look pleased to see them.

  Marnie felt her stomach tighten. Instinctively she looked along the canal to where Maurice’s boat was moored. A number of uniformed police officers were visible on and beside it. A feeling of dread came over Marnie and she turned to Anne, who seemed even paler than usual.

  “Put her in reverse, Marnie,” Anne said quickly. “We’re going to overshoot.”

  Marnie reached down to ease back on the accelerator before pushing the central gear lever into the reverse position and increasing revs.

  “What d’you think has happened?” Anne asked quietly.

  “Whatever it is, it isn’t good.”

  “It’s Mr Dekker, isn’t it?” Anne’s voice was barely audible.

  Marnie nodded. “Must be.”

  Anne walked briskly along the gunwale to take the forward mooring rope. As she came near to the detectives she called out a greeting. Neither of them replied with more than a dip of the head. Marnie brought Sally Ann to a halt just short of the end of the dock, and Anne hopped down to make the boat secure. Marnie dealt with the stern rope and when she straightened up she found Bartlett and Marriner beside her.

  “Been away for long?” said Bartlett without preamble.

  “Good afternoon,” Marnie said in an even tone. “We’ve been out since about nine this morning. What’s happened?”

  “Mr Dekker has been found dead on his boat. That’s what’s happened.”

  The detectives heard a gasp behind them and turned to see Anne, eyes as big as dinner plates.

  “I’ve got a host of questions to ask,” said Marnie, “but first I think I need to sit down.”

  “I think you’ll find we’ll be asking the questions, Mrs Walker.” Bartlett’s expression was grim. “I suggest you sit in the police car.”

  *

  The next hours went by in a blur. Marnie and Anne were perplexed when they had their fingerprints taken. They had seen the procedure often enough on television, but having it happen to them in a police station while being treated as suspects was a quite unnerving experience. While they were wiping their fingers to clean off the ink, the duty sergeant informed them they could each make one telephone call.

  Anne decided not to phone her parents, not wanting to worry them. Instead, she rang Donovan and left a simple message on his answerphone.

  “Hi. It’s Anne. Maurice has died. Marnie and I are with the police. I think we’ve been arrested.”

  Marnie had no hesitation in ringing Roger Broadbent, her solicitor.

  When he eventually arrived, Marnie had to admire his style. He had been dragged away from his weekend and driven up from London, yet he walked into the station looking relaxed and exuding confidence. Marnie was interviewed by Bartlett and Marriner with Roger at her side. At the outset he told Marnie in front of the officers to give clear, succinct answers to all their questions without hesitation. That would clear up any misunderstanding, and they could all go home.

  Bartlett asked about Marnie’s movements that day and about her relationship with Maurice Dekker. She followed Roger’s advice and answered every question while looking Bartlett and Marriner straight in the eye. She stated that she had not known Maurice before he came to the village and asked her to handle his post. Everything went well until Bartlett asked if she or any of her family had been affected by Maurice’s financial misjudgments. Marnie realised they had done their homework on Maurice’s past. She hesitated. Roger stirred in his seat and glanced sideways at her.

  “Well, Mrs Walker?” said Bartlett. “It’s a simple enough question,”

  “I … I learnt recently that my father had lost some money as a consequence of Maurice’s mishandling of some investments.”

  “How much money, Mrs Walker?”

  “I have no idea. My sister told me about it a week or so ago.”

  “What did she tell you exactly?”

  “Just that he had lost some money that was invested through Maurice’s firm.”


  “A lot of money?”

  Marnie shrugged. “I told you, I don’t know. I believe it reduced my parents’ pension, but by how much I couldn’t say.”

  “How do you feel about that, Mrs Walker?”

  Before Marnie could reply, Roger intervened. “Really, chief inspector.” He gave Bartlett an old-fashioned look accompanied by a wry smile. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were trying to get my client to incriminate herself.”

  “I think you know I’m merely trying to discover how seriously Mrs Walker and her family might have been harmed by the late Mr Dekker’s dealings.”

  Roger continued. “In order to try – in a rather sneaky way, if I might say so – to establish a possible motive for murder. I think you’ll agree that my client is doing everything she can to co-operate with your investigation. I don’t believe it would help your enquiries to treat her in a hostile way.”

  Marnie knew that Roger was signalling that her co-operation might be curtailed if Bartlett was too aggressive in his questioning. She also knew he was buying her time to think.

  “Marnie,” said Roger, “don’t feel obliged to answer that last question. Your personal feelings aren’t really relevant. We should concentrate only on the facts.”

  “Okay, but I don’t really have any feelings one way or the other. My parents are retired, living in a nice villa in the south of Spain. I don’t think they’re suffering.”

  Bartlett resumed. “Then let’s get back to the facts, Mrs Walker. You gave Mr Dekker sleeping tablets. That’s correct, isn’t it?”

  “No.”

  “I should warn you that we have your fingerprints on the box of sleeping tablets found on the floor by the bed.” Bartlett’s eyes were boring into Marnie’s. “Shall I repeat my question?”

  Marnie heard Roger clear his throat quietly beside her. A warning signal.

  “No need,” she said. “Shall I repeat my answer? I didn’t give Maurice sleeping tablets.” She stressed the last word. “I gave him one sleeping tablet – at his request – last night.”

  “How many were in the box, Mrs Walker?”

  “I didn’t really notice. They were in those, you know, sort of strips, I think they’re called, several on each one in bubbles. There were a few strips in the box. I didn’t count them.”

  “You were in the habit of shopping for him. Did you obtain those?”

  Roger intervened again. “Surely they’d only be available on prescription, chief inspector.”

  “Perhaps your client would answer the question, please,” Bartlett insisted.

  “I didn’t collect them for him. It’s true I got our GP to visit him, but he didn’t prescribe any medicines. He just said Maurice should take aspirin to ease his headache and lower his temperature, plus plenty of fluids.”

  “So he brought the sleeping tablets with him?”

  “I suppose so.”

  Bartlett glanced at Marriner and nodded.

  “How would you describe your relationship with Mr Dekker?” Marriner asked.

  “We didn’t really have a relationship as such.”

  “But you helped with his post, did shopping for him, got your doctor to visit him, gave him food, gave him medication – the sleeping tablets –”

  “I think,” Roger interrupted, “I think we’ve established that my client administered one sleeping tablet at Mr Dekker’s request.”

  “Your client asserts that,” said Bartlett. “We’ll let it go for the moment.” He looked at Marriner. “Go on, Ted.”

  “Would you say you were on friendly terms with Mr Dekker?”

  “Reasonably friendly, yes.”

  “That sounds rather grudging, don’t you think?”

  “I tried to help him out – we all did – in various ways. But he wasn’t an easy man to befriend. He was very reserved, quiet, really quite taciturn.”

  “So to sum up, you did what you could to help him, and until a few days ago you didn’t have a personal grievance against Mr Dekker.”

  “I still don’t, never have.”

  “I’m not sure where this is going,” said Roger.

  Bartlett replied. “I think you do, sir. We need to understand the relationship between your client and the deceased.”

  “That has already been clarified,” said Roger. “If you have no further avenues to explore, I think perhaps we’ve had enough questions for today.”

  Bartlett got the message. “There are some other issues, Mr Broadbent.”

  “Very well, but we’ve said all that needs to be said on the subject of relationships or hypothetical personal grudges.”

  Marriner resumed. “You were saying that you tried to help Mr Dekker out. Why was that? Why couldn’t he do things for himself? Presumably he wasn’t ill the whole time you knew him.”

  “When he first came here he had no address for his post. I agreed to liaise with the post office to collect it for him.”

  “Why couldn’t he come himself?”

  Marnie took a deep breath. “This is going to sound strange.”

  “Nothing would surprise us,” said Bartlett.

  “We believe he was hiding from some powerful corporations. We think he was convinced they wanted to do him harm.”

  “Because of this financial business, the loss of millions of pounds in clients’ investments?”

  Marnie nodded.

  “Could you state your reply, please, Mrs Walker.” Bartlett indicated the recording machine.

  “Yes. I believe he was scared, and that’s why he went into hiding.”

  “You’re suggesting we should pursue a line of enquiry to establish other possible suspects?”

  Marnie spoke before Roger could intervene. “You have no reason to suspect me or any of us of anything, Mr Bartlett.”

  Bartlett’s turn to give a wry smile. “There are one or two possible pointers, Mrs Walker.” He began counting on his fingers. “You knew where he was, for a start. You had access to his boat. He trusted you enough to let you give him food, drink and medication. Your fingerprints are all over the boat. They’re on the glass by his bed. They’re on the box of sleeping pills.”

  “I accept all that. I was trying to look after him. But I only touched one strip of tablets. I guarantee my prints are not on any of the others.”

  “That is a highly significant point,” said Roger.

  The detectives looked unimpressed.

  “There could be a number of reasons for that,” said Bartlett. “As you are well aware.”

  *

  While Marnie was being interrogated in one interview room, Anne was being questioned by Cathy Lamb next door. The questions followed the same pattern, and afterwards the detectives compared notes. It came as no surprise that both stories were the same, and it was clear that Anne had not been on Maurice’s boat at any time. Her fingerprints were nowhere found, though there were quite a few belonging to an as yet unidentified third party. Anne reminded Lamb that Donovan had brought Maurice and his boat back to Glebe Farm. He had returned home on Wednesday evening.

  Despite the circumstantial evidence, none of the detectives seriously believed that Marnie had actually given Maurice a fatal overdose. The problem was, their superiors wanted the case to be resolved quickly, and they were only interested in having evidence to put before the crown prosecution service.

  *

  Roger asked if he could talk to his clients in private, and Bartlett agreed to let them use a meeting room. Marnie was surprised at how serious Roger looked. She thanked him for his presence and support. He waved her words away, looking thoughtful.

  “You don’t seem too cheerful, Roger.”

  He sighed. “This is tricky. Bartlett and his team are in a tight spot.”

  “They are?” Marnie was incredulous. “Don’t you mean I am?”

  “It amounts to the same thing, Marnie.”

  “Why should Marnie be in a tight spot?” said Anne.

  “The evidence is all against her,” Roge
r explained. “And the police have to go on the facts as they see them.”

  “But the facts are, Marnie didn’t do anything to harm Mr Dekker,” Anne insisted. “So there can’t be any evidence to prove she did.”

  Marnie frowned. She realised what Roger meant.

  “It’s the fingerprints, isn’t it?” she said, rubbing a thumb against the pale stains on her fingers. “Bartlett said there could be various reasons why my prints weren’t on all the strips in the box. What did he mean?”

  “Think about it,” said Roger. “It’s obvious.”

  “He thinks Marnie wiped them off?” Anne said slowly. She looked puzzled. “Wouldn’t that remove the evidence?”

  “That’s the point.”

  “The absence of evidence counts against me?” said Marnie, bewildered. “How can that be?”

  “If you really did plan to kill Maurice – which of course you didn’t – you might’ve done that deliberately. You might’ve left your prints on just one strip of tablets to corroborate your story. You could have used gloves on the others.”

  Marnie looked horrified. “But that would make me a cold-blooded, calculating murderer. That’s ridiculous. Bartlett can’t believe that. I’ve done nothing but help Maurice for months. Why would I want to harm him now?”

  “For how long have you known he’d damaged your parents’ lives, Marnie?”

  “He may have reduced their pensions, but they’re not doing badly. It’s hardly a reason to kill him.”

  “Look at it from Bartlett’s point of view. Facts, motive, evidence.”

  “Blimey,” said Marnie.

  “Blimey,” said Anne.

  No-one spoke for a few moments. Roger broke the silence.

  “Do you have any idea who might have done this, Marnie? Did Maurice ever let anything slip?”

  “Ralph’s friend Graeme McKinnon told him there were some powerful people who were mightily annoyed at losing so much money. We’re talking millions.”

  Roger shook his head. “That doesn’t really help.”

  “But if there was someone after Maurice …” Marnie picked up Roger’s line of thought. “Are there really such things as hit men? It all seems a bit far-fetched for Knightly St John.”