by Leo McNeir
“Can’t say I blame her, but it’s a shame if Ben has to lose out.” Anne skimmed through the statement. “It looks like a good application.”
“I’m sure it is. Such a pity, a wasted opportunity.”
Anne took the forms back to her desk to read them properly when she had a spare moment.
Marnie spent the first half of the morning working on the design for her country house project. The scheme was nearing completion, and she was feeling pleased with the outcome. After Anne had dealt with the post, she set about typing up an essay for college.
At mid-morning Anne announced that they needed more coffee. She set off to fetch a new packet from the store on Sally Ann and had been gone barely a minute when the phone rang. It was Karen Brodie, asking if it would be convenient to come and collect Maurice’s belongings from the boat.
Marnie mentioned that she had spoken with David Dekker, who had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with it. Also, she had checked with the police, who had no objection to Maurice’s personal effects being removed, though the boat had to remain in situ until further notice. Karen thanked Marnie for all she had done and said she would bring the car later that day and load it up on her way to visit Dominic.
Marnie went back to the drawing board, feeling that an episode in her life was finally coming to an end.
*
Marnie and Anne had a sandwich in the office at lunchtime, after which Anne went out to check the erratic time switch on Sally Ann. She was halfway through the spinney when she heard a rustling sound. Ben stood up from behind a thicket of undergrowth a few yards away, his smile more restrained than usual.
“Why are you skulking in the bushes, young man?” Anne teased him.
“Working on a school project,” Ben said simply.
Anne noticed he was not making eye contact. “Are you all right?” She wondered if the head injury was causing more problems than he admitted. “Ben?” She walked over and put both hands on his shoulders. “What is it?”
“Mum says we’re leaving soon.” He looked away. “I’ll never see you again.”
Anne swallowed. “Yes you will.”
“How can I?”
She tried to sound positive. “The canals are like an extended village.”
“Over two thousand miles long,” Ben said.
“We can keep in touch,” Anne insisted.
“How?”
“We’ll find a way, somehow. Come on, cheer up. Tell me about this project you’re doing.”
*
Anne seemed to have been gone longer than Marnie expected. She was wondering if the girl had decided to rewire the whole boat when two visitors arrived in quick succession. Bob the foreman builder needed some decisions relating to the farmhouse renovation. He had written a list of queries in pencil on a piece of wood, a sure sign, Marnie thought, of Anne’s influence. They had reached the second query when a car drew up outside.
Karen Brodie knocked on the office door and stood awkwardly in the entrance.
“Oh, sorry. Have I come at an inconvenient time?”
“No, not all,” Marnie lied. “Have a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment …” She glanced at the list on Bob’s block of wood, ‘… or two.”
Karen closed the door behind her, but remained standing. She was carrying two overnight bags, which she placed on the floor. Marnie tried to resume her conversation with Bob, but Karen’s hovering presence made it difficult to concentrate.
“Anne should be back at any time. When she comes, I’ll get her to show you the way to the boat.”
“Marnie,” Bob said, “if you’d like me to come back later –”
“I’m sorry about this, Marnie,” Karen interrupted. “I’ve obviously come at a bad time. If you could just point me in the right direction for the canal …”
Before Marnie could reply, the phone began ringing. Marnie waved a dismissive hand over the instrument, but Karen indicated she should it pick up. It was one of the managers at Willards’ Brewery, Marnie’s biggest client, wanting an urgent word about the timing of a major contract. Marnie made an apologetic gesture and tried to deal with the enquiry as quickly as she could. While she was talking, Karen spoke quietly to Bob.
“Excuse me. Can you tell me where the canal is? Is it far from here?”
Bob pointed towards the door. “Left outside, me dook, left at the corner of the barn, straight on through the spinney. There’s a path. Two minutes.”
Smiling her thanks, Karen picked up the bags and went out. When Marnie next looked round, she saw that Karen had gone.
*
Anne liked Ben’s project. It was just her kind of assignment. The topic he had chosen was the ecology of a small woodland, and the spinney was a perfect subject, a microcosm of the local environment.
Ben had begun by writing a list of everything he had found, the different species of trees and bushes, the various flowers, the variety of birds and insects. To help with his schooling, Willow had bought one of the new digital cameras, and Ben had taken numerous photos that he stored on the laptop computer on the boat. He offered to show them to Anne when she had a moment to spare. He was particularly proud of his close-ups of wild bees gathering nectar from crocuses and daffodils, but his absolute favourites were shots of spiders’ webs taken in frost and dew.
When Anne appeared, Ben had just come across a new flower for his collection. Declaring that he was not an expert on wild flowers, Ben asked Anne if she could help identify it. They knelt down together, and Anne parted the grass with her fingers so that Ben could take a photo of it.
“Do you know what it is, Anne?” Ben murmured as he concentrated on focusing.
Their faces were close together, barely a foot above the ground.
“Not sure. Could be something like an aconite, maybe?”
Ben adjusted his position to improve the angle of the shot, and Anne moved over to give him a clear view. She found herself kneeling on a stone hidden in the grass and had to shift position to remove it. As she did so, she caught sight of someone on the path and wondered if Marnie had come looking for her. She raised her head a fraction and saw Karen walking briskly through the trees, carrying a bag in each hand. She was about to call out a greeting when Ben spoke quietly in her ear.
“Could you just hold still a minute, please.”
“Oh, sorry.” Anne muttered and held back the grass.
The camera clicked and Ben held it in front of them to see the result in the tiny screen at the rear. He too spotted Karen, who was now hurrying away from them towards the canal.
“You’ve got a visitor,” Ben said. “D’you know who she is?”
“Her name’s Karen Brodie. She’s Maurice Dekker’s sister-in-law. Her husband is Dominic, the brother of Maurice’s wife, who died.”
“Is Dominic the man who had the car accident when we were away?”
“That’s right.”
“He’s a relative, isn’t he? Mum told me about him.”
“He’s your uncle, I suppose,” said Anne.
“So that lady is my auntie?”
“Must be. When you were in hospital she said she was going to pray for you.”
Ben wrinkled his brows. “They go in for a lot of praying round here.”
Anne grinned. “They certainly do.” She looked at her watch. “I’ve got to get back to the office. Marnie’ll be wondering what’s happened to me.”
Anne stood up. Ben looked suddenly crestfallen. She put an arm round his shoulders as he got to his feet..
“Look,” she said. “Why don’t you get your laptop and bring your project work to the office? You can show Marnie and me what you’ve done and carry on with it there. You can share my desk if you like.”
Ben beamed at her. “Great!”
They agreed to meet back at the office in ten minutes and went their different ways.
*
On Sally Ann, Anne soon traced the fault with the time switch. It was connected to an adaptor that had become d
islodged from its wall socket. She quickly adjusted it to the correct time, tested it and left the boat.
On her way back through the spinney, her mobile started warbling. Donovan wanted an update on progress. She told him there was little to report, which she thought was a good sign.
“How d’you work that out?” he said.
“Donovan, any day when we don’t have the police on our backs has to be good news.”
“Think again, Anne. You’re looking down the wrong end of the telescope.”
“What?”
“Just because Marriner isn’t grilling you, it doesn’t mean he and his pals have gone away. Somewhere, someone in the police is at this very minute trying to pile up evidence against you.”
“There is no evidence,” Anne protested.
“Really? Marnie’s fingerprints prove she was on the boat and handled the sleeping tablets.”
“She doesn’t deny it. In fact, she told Inspector Bartlett about that. And Marnie doesn’t have a motive.”
“Her parents lost a lot of money thanks to Maurice’s mismanagement of trust funds. What d’you call that?”
Anne did not like the way the conversation was heading. “Donovan, Marnie wasn’t anywhere near Maurice when he was given the overdose. She was with me on Sally. That makes me her alibi.”
“To a suspicious detective it could make you her accomplice or, as the police might say, an accessory to murder.”
Anne sighed. “And to think, I was enjoying this morning.”
“I’m sorry, Anne, but we’ve got to face facts. Things aren’t looking good.”
“I can see that, but what can we do?”
“Look at it from every angle. Go over everything. Something might turn up. Is there anything you haven’t pursued?”
Anne hesitated. She stopped by the corner of the office barn and leaned against the wall.
“There were … Oh, I don’t know …”
“What?” said Donovan. “There were what?”
“People asking about him.”
“When? Who?”
“One was in that canal pub.”
“Which one?”
“I’m not sure of its name. You know, it was where we had a drink that day when you were searching for Maurice.”
There was silence on the line. Eventually Donovan said, “I’d better get up there and make enquiries. Trouble is, I don’t want anyone remembering me going around asking about him. If the police put out a call for information about anyone knowing anything …”
“Yeah, tricky,” Anne agreed.
“Anne, you said people. Did you mean plural or was there just the pub man?”
“Molly Appleton told Marnie someone had been asking after Maurice.”
“You mean in the village shop?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Don’t know.”
“Anne, this could be very important.”
“Marnie said Molly was pretty vague about it.”
“No, that’s not good enough. Get back to Molly straight away. Get a description, a time, anything at all. It’s a lead. Do it now.”
*
Anne had forgotten about Ben. She was standing over Marnie who was on the phone to Molly Appleton when Ben knocked on the office door and came in laden down with bags. He grinned at Anne and walked across to her desk, where he carefully set down the laptop and swung his satchel onto the ground with a carrier bag.
Anne smiled back, but he at once realised she was preoccupied. Marnie was speaking urgently into the handset and did not look up, her expression serious.
“Molly, we have to know who it was. It’s important. Please ask Richard to concentrate.”
She waited, glancing up at Anne, seemingly unaware of Ben’s presence. She cocked her head to listen again.
“Is he sure about that? … And? … You’re certain there’s nothing else he can tell us? … You didn’t …? … No. … Okay, thanks, Molly. Sorry to interrogate you like this.”
Marnie replaced the receiver and looked up at Anne.
“Donovan was right. I don’t know what I can have been thinking.”
“What did she say?” Anne asked.
“It was a woman.”
“A woman?” Anne repeated.
Marnie nodded. “Molly pushed Richard until he remembered. It was busy at the post office counter, but he’s certain it was a woman who asked about Maurice.”
“Description?”
Marnie shook her head. “She was wearing a hat and kept her face down. All he remembers is she bought a book of stamps.”
“So he didn’t get a good look at her,” Anne said.
“No. Not much help, is it? I wonder what Donovan would make of it.”
“He’d probably get hold of Richard and –”
“Maybe it was the lady in the spinney.”
Marnie and Anne turned to stare at Ben, as if they were both seeing him there for the first time.
Marnie looked puzzled. “What lady?”
“Karen,” said Anne. “We saw her outside.”
“Oh God, I’d forgotten about her.” Marnie looked thoughtful. “No. It can’t have been Karen. She’s never been here before today.”
“But she knew how to get to the canal,” Anne said. “Though I suppose you told her that.”
“No. We barely exchanged a few words. Bob said he directed her through the spinney. I was on the phone.”
“So not Karen, then,” Anne said. “I wonder who it could’ve been.”
Ben looked deflated. He pulled a chair towards Anne’s desk and sat down. Seeing how disappointed he was – after all, he was only a ten year-old boy – Marnie called to him across the room.
“But thanks for the idea, Ben. It was very helpful of you.”
His only reply was a brief nod, and he began unpacking his equipment. Suddenly, he got up and headed for the door.
“Back in a jiffy!” he called out and was gone before Marnie or Anne could respond.
*
It was a sad and depressing business. Karen barely filled the two overnight bags with Maurice’s things on the boat. She looked at them on the bed; not much to show for the final weeks of a life that had once been so full of promise and achievement. Some phrases from the funeral service drifted into her mind. We bring nothing into the world and we take nothing from it.
The tragedy of Maurice’s demise overwhelmed her, and she sat on a chair in the saloon, put her face in her hands and wept for her brother-in-law. She wept for Maurice, for his dead wife, for their never-to-be-born child, for the whole sorry series of events that had damaged so many lives forever. She tried to pray for them all, but the words would not come.
Eventually she calmed down and sat for several minutes in quiet reflection. When she had composed herself, she got up, went into the tiny bathroom and looked in the mirror. Her eyes were red from weeping. She fetched her handbag, rummaged in it for make-up and set about repairing the worst of the damage.
*
Marnie was too unsettled to concentrate on her work. Anne’s report of her conversation with Donovan had brought home to her the awfulness of their predicament. The calm of their existence was just an illusion. At any time the police could return and arrest them, and there was nothing she or Anne or Ralph or even Donovan could do about it.
Over at her desk, Anne shifted Ben’s things to one side so that she could continue with typing up her essay. Briefly she paused and wrote a note on one of her inevitable lists.
“What was that?” Marnie asked.
“A reminder to go and quiz Richard Appleton about the person who was asking about Maurice.”
“Will you be taking the thumbscrews and the rubber hosepipe?”
“Of course. It’s hard to get the hot coals into the Mini without damaging the seats.”
Marnie gave a weak smile, which vanished abruptly when the phone rang. To her surprise, it was Willow, who sounded odd.
“Marnie, I hope Ben isn’t be
ing a nuisance.”
“Of course he isn’t. He can do his project work here. He’s no trouble at all.”
Willow continued as if she had not been listening. “He’s a good boy, well-meaning. It’s just sometimes, he gets a bit carried away.”
“That’s fine. He’s –”
“I know it’s a funny thing to say, Marnie, but I do trust him implicitly. He has these ideas, you know.”
“Yes. I think he terrifies Angela, but she probably scares easily.” Marnie tried to sound light-hearted. “Don’t let it bother you.”
“Whatever happens, Marnie, please don’t judge him harshly. You’ve always stood by us and, well, that’s all I can say really.”
Willow hung up without another word. Marnie was confused, anxious and troubled simultaneously, and it showed in her face.
“What’s up?” Anne asked.
“That was Willow.”
“I gathered that much. What did she want?”
“I’ve no idea,” Marnie said, searching in her brain for understanding. “It was peculiar.”
“About Ben?” said Anne.
“Well, yes.”
At that moment the door opened and Ben returned. He muttered something and went straight to his chair.
“Everything all right, Ben?” Marnie asked.
“Not sure. Don’t know if I’ve done the right thing, but …”
Anne laid a hand on his arm. “What is it? What have you done?”
Before he could reply, they heard a knock on the door and Karen entered. She looked tired, and Marnie sensed that she was feeling low after clearing out Maurice’s boat.
“Come in, Karen. Have a seat.”
“I can’t stay, Marnie.” She lowered the bags to the floor and closed the door. Her voice was subdued. “I have to get to the hospital to see Dominic.”
Marnie tilted her head towards the spinney. “Have you done everything you needed on the boat?”
“Yes.” She put a small bunch of keys on the desk. “These are for the padlock. Do you think you could return them to the police next time you see them?”
To Marnie, the reminder felt like a pit in her stomach. “Of course, though I’m not sure they’d want us to have them.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“Karen, you look as if you could use a cup of coffee.”