Gifthorse: The next instalment of the riveting Marnie Walker series

by Leo McNeir

  Anne was immediately on her feet, making for the kitchen area.

  “Well, I,” Karen began. “I really ought to –”

  “Take a few minutes to rest before you go,” Marnie interrupted, drawing up a chair. “Come on, have a seat.”

  Karen did as she was asked. Outside they heard a car on the gravel drive, and moments later Marriner and Lamb passed the window. Marnie took a deep breath.

  “Two more cups, Anne. Or perhaps not.”

  Anne froze. In her memory she heard Donovan’s voice. It could make you her accomplice or … an accessory to murder. This could be it, she thought. They could be about to be charged with murder. She realised her hands were trembling and she clasped them together so as not to betray her feelings.

  Marriner wasted no time on preliminaries. “Now what’s all this about?” he said.

  Marnie found herself unable to speak, or even understand the situation. This was not the approach she had expected from the detectives. It felt as if she had come in halfway through someone else’s conversation and was having difficulty following it.

  “Good afternoon, Mr Marriner,” she said. It sounded lame, and there was uncertainty in her tone.

  “Yes, yes,” he said, brushing her words aside with an impatient gesture. “Now will someone tell me what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know quite what you mean. Have you come to arrest us?”

  Marnie hoped she was not giving them ideas. Marriner and Lamb traded glances.

  “Marnie, you sent for us,” said Lamb.

  “No.” Her confusion was growing. “I didn’t.”

  “We were on our way back to the station when a call came in. We were to divert here. Apparently –”

  Behind them the door opened and Willow came in. Lamb stopped speaking as all eyes turned towards the newcomer.

  “Thank you for coming,” Willow said. “I hope we’re not wasting your time.”

  “You?” said Marriner. “It was you who asked for us?”

  “Well, it was really Ben’s idea. She looked across the office at her son, who was sitting impassively at Anne’s desk. “I think he’d better explain.”

  Marnie was by now totally bewildered, but anxious to clarify exactly what was going on in her office.

  “Sergeant Marriner,” she began. “Do you think it would help if we all sat down calmly to talk things over? Would you and Cathy like a cup of tea, perhaps?”

  Marriner turned his stare on Marnie. He obviously did not savour being out of control. For several seconds he made no reply. Then, to Marnie’s surprise and Anne’s great relief, he accepted her offer. Anne had the kettle heating and mugs out of the cupboard while chairs were pulled up.

  Karen finished her coffee and stood up. “Well, if you don’t need me any more …” She walked across to where she had laid the overnight bags. “I’ll let you get on.”

  Ben got to his feet so brusquely that his chair toppled backwards. He reacted very quickly, turning and seizing the back before it could fall to the ground.

  “If you don’t mind,” Marriner said, “I’d like you to stay, at least until we get to the bottom of this.”

  “But I don’t see what it can have to do with –”

  “Please.” He indicated her chair. “I’d be grateful.”

  With a sigh, Karen reluctantly returned to her place. Marriner turned back to Willow.

  “You were saying?”

  Willow nodded at Ben and gave him an encouraging smile.

  “I’m not sure where to begin,” he said. “I know I should begin at the beginning, but I don’t know when that was.”

  “Suppose you tell us what made you ask us to come here, Ben,” Lamb said in a gentle voice.

  Ben sat quietly for some time. Everybody was watching him, but all had the good sense to let him work things out in his own way, at his own pace.

  “I saw her in the spinney when I was with Anne. Anne said she was my auntie.” He lowered his eyes. “It was weird. I’d never seen her before, and there she was, my auntie, walking through the trees, not even knowing I was there.”

  Everyone was concentrating, waiting for Ben to get to the point, not wanting to rush him or put him off his stride. Cathy Lamb intervened quietly.

  “Who do you mean, Ben?”

  He nodded across the office to Karen, whose expression was puzzled. “That lady, my auntie. I saw her in the spinney first and then later when I was fetching my things from the boat.” He rested a hand absentmindedly on the computer. “That’s when I knew.”

  “Knew what, Ben?” Lamb’s voice was little more than a whisper.

  “Marnie said she’d never been here before, had to be told how to find the canal, but that wasn’t true.”

  “What?” Karen spoke up. “What are you saying?”

  Ben looked straight at Karen with the direct, open gaze of a child. “You had been to Maurice’s boat before.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Everyone knows I’d not set foot in this place until today.”

  “But I saw you leaving his boat,” Ben persisted.

  “When did you see her?” Marriner asked.

  “Just now, this afternoon.”

  Karen shook her head. “Of course he did. That’s why I came here. Everyone knows that.”

  Ben was now staring down at the desk, his face troubled.

  “Had you seen this lady, your auntie, before, Ben?” Lamb asked.

  Ben was now looking utterly miserable. “No.” His voice could barely be heard.

  “Quite,” said Karen. “Because I’d not been here before.” She looked at Marriner. “I’m afraid this has been a waste of your time.” She stood up. “The boy seems to have rather too vivid an imagination, sergeant.” Her voice softened. “It’s a very disappointing way to meet my nephew for the first time.”

  Marriner stood up and turned towards Ben. “What were you thinking of?”

  Ben was now looking distressed. Anne put her arm round his shoulders, but he shrugged her off.

  “I’m not saying it right,” he said.

  “It’s all right,” Karen said quietly. “Children sometimes say things to try to help, or sometimes to sound important.”

  “No,” said Willow. “Ben’s not like that.”

  Karen shrugged. Marnie’s mind was racing, trying to work out what Ben meant. She knew he was highly intelligent, but realised this kind of situation was way outside his range of experience. From her own previous dealings with the police she knew how difficult it was to handle such matters.

  “Ben,” she said. “Just say what’s bothering you. What prompted you to ask for the police to come here?”

  Ben focused on Marnie, thinking back to the events of that afternoon. Speaking to her, he said, “All the boats on that side are the same colour. How did she know which one belonged to Maurice?”

  Marnie’s head snapped round to Marriner. “There. That’s your question.”

  Karen shrugged. “It’s no great mystery. The man talking to Marnie in the office – the builder – he gave me directions.”

  “No,” said Marnie. “Bob just told you the way to the canal.”

  “Of course.” Karen nodded. “Sorry. You’re absolutely right. But it’s quite simple. I tried the padlocks on the boats until I found the one the key fitted.”

  Marnie sat back in her chair and looked enquiringly at Ben. He seemed now to be more at ease, turning to Marriner and Lamb.

  “Do the police really use fingerprints like on television?” he asked.

  “Yes, we do,” said Cathy Lamb.

  “So that means the lady’s fingerprints will be on other padlocks, doesn’t it?”

  “Good point, Ben,” said Lamb.

  Chapter 57

  Confession

  Over the next few days the case was wrapped up. One intervention by a boy of ten had made everything suddenly clear. Faced with irrefutable evidence, Karen Brodie made a full confession. She had never forgiven Maurice for what he had done to Dominic�
��s sister and her unborn child.

  In her statement to the police Karen explained that he had to pay the price for taking their two lives. There was no expression of regret, no expectation that anyone would understand why she did what she did, no desire to be forgiven for her actions outside the confessional.

  The facts were straightforward. Karen had read about Maurice in the press and deduced where he might be from what she had learned from Dominic. She had managed to track Maurice down thanks to a mixture of logic and luck. Once she had caught up with his boat, she bided her time. Donovan’s appearance and the sudden change of direction had at first confused her and she had lost sight of them.

  She would not reveal how she had originally planned to kill Maurice for fear that the police might use the information to trick Dominic into admitting complicity. Karen steadfastly maintained that she had acted alone. Indeed, she asserted, Dominic had been adamantly opposed to harming Maurice, believing that he needed support on the road to ultimate forgiveness.

  Her first mistake had been to break cover and enquire about Maurice in the village shop. But she had become desperate. She had waited until the shop was full and the post office was busy with a queue of customers. The man in the cubicle had been rushed and said only that he did not know if Maurice was back. That was enough: if Maurice was back. Knowing that he had been in Knightly St John, Karen hazarded a guess that his destination with the young man steering the boat would be a return to that village.

  Karen had learnt of Maurice’s arrival from the Flying Dutchman article in the paper when she visited Dominic on Friday evening. The next day she had driven up very early from London, parked her car in the nearby village of Cosgrove and scouted the towpath, posing as a jogger.

  Although some other boats had been moored along that same stretch of bank, she had had no problem identifying Maurice’s. Even though all five boats were similar in colour, his boat was distinctive in design. Then, concealed in the spinney all morning, she watched Marnie taking provisions on board, and that clinched it. She was convinced that Maurice was alone on the boat.

  Later that morning, she watched Marnie and Anne set off on Sally Ann, leaving Maurice behind. Karen had acted quickly, not knowing how long they would be away. She had found Maurice dozing in bed. He had seemed not to recognise her when she silently gave him the first tablets and had not noticed that she was wearing latex gloves. The drink he then accepted from her contained several more crushed to powder and dissolved in sparkling water. When she had finished, she made her escape, again disguised as a jogger, confident that she had not been seen.

  Karen had made her second mistake when she had gone to collect Maurice’s belongings. Her main aim had been to ensure that no trace of her presence remained on the boat, judging that the police might conduct even more thorough searches if no further evidence came to light. Not knowing that she herself was being observed by Ben from the bridge, she had gone straight to Maurice’s boat and hurried on board. It had not occurred to her that anyone would draw harmful conclusions from that simple act.

  She expressed no remorse. She had done what she believed to be her duty.

  After completing and signing her statement, Karen had asked to see a priest.

  *

  Ralph phoned Marnie late on Friday evening. He had just arrived in Washington DC where he was due to chair a weekend conference at Georgetown University. Marnie gave him the whole story and, as usual, he listened without interruption.

  His first comment was to point out that all along they had been looking in the wrong place for the threat to Maurice’s safety. It was not from disgruntled investors that the danger had come, but from his own family.

  “Do you think Dominic was part of the plot?” Marnie asked.

  “Who knows? It’ll be hard for the police to prove it, as long as he says nothing.”

  The phone connection was so clear, it sounded as if Ralph was in the same room.

  “I can’t believe what Karen did,” said Marnie. “She seemed such a quiet person. She must have had all those feelings of hatred and revenge bottled up inside her.”

  “I think you’re right,” Ralph agreed. “It reminds me of the pro-life brigade – the more fanatical variety – here in the US, who’ve threatened the lives of staff in abortion clinics. People can hold very strong opinions on such matters.”

  “But it doesn’t make any sense, Ralph, the attitude that life is sacred, therefore I’m going to kill you.”

  “It may not make sense to you, Marnie, but to a person like Karen there must be some sort of logic behind what she did. Perhaps she thought she was the agent of God’s vengeance or justice, or something of the sort.”

  “I suppose we’ll never understand,” Marnie said.

  “I think her motives were fairly clear,” said Ralph. “There are two things that I find most reprehensible.”

  Marnie waited for Ralph to continue, reflecting that he was the only person she knew who used words like reprehensible.

  “The first is that she knew Maurice had only given his consent to the termination out of love for his wife. He didn’t want her to die. The complications that set in were plain bad luck, but they weren’t his fault. Also don’t forget, Melissa must have given her consent, too.”

  “Yes, but perhaps Karen thought Melissa wasn’t up to taking decisions for herself at such a stressful time.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You said there were two things, Ralph. What’s your second point?”

  “Simply that it didn’t seem to bother her that others – namely you and Anne – might go to prison for life for a crime in which they had no part.”

  “Unless she regarded us as Maurice’s accomplices because we were protecting him.”

  “That’s a possibility,” Ralph agreed. “It’s the old line: if you’re not with me, you’re against me.”

  “Whether you like it or not,” Marnie added.

  *

  For the next few days Marnie seemed to spend most of the time on the phone explaining what had happened. Anne suggested she should record a message and play that to everyone. Reactions were varied.

  Donovan was annoyed with himself that he had not taken better care of Maurice. If only he had been able to stay longer … Beth was hugely relieved that Marnie was no longer going to be hauled off in chains and thrown into the police dungeons. Roger Broadbent was more restrained, but admitted to Marnie it had been a close call. He had already had discussions with a barrister friend, and neither of them had felt optimistic about securing a satisfactory verdict in the light of the evidence.

  “What will happen to Karen, Roger?” Marnie asked.

  “If she’s convicted, murder carries a mandatory life sentence,” Roger said.

  “Will her lawyers argue that the balance of her mind had been disturbed by grief or something? Is that how you put it?”

  “I’m not sure what line the defence team will take, but after all her stalking and planning, she can hardly claim it was unpremeditated.”

  “What a family!” Marnie said. “What will become of Maurice’s estate?”

  “Depends on his will. I imagine he’ll have left one. If not, I expect everything will go to his brother, if he’s the nearest relative, including the proceeds from the sale of the boat. By the way, will you be dealing with that, Marnie?”

  Marnie sighed. “I suppose so.”

  *

  Marnie had a quiet couple of days. Anne’s parents had asked her to go home for the weekend, and Ralph was attending his conference in DC. She spent the time catching up on designs, ably assisted by Dolly, who snuggled up beside the computer in the warmth of the desk lamp, purring softly.

  On Saturday evening she invited Willow and Ben to join her for a meal on Sally Ann. The atmosphere was subdued and, by an unspoken agreement, they avoided talking about Maurice and his fate. The oil lamps cast a gentle glow in the saloon, and they enjoyed a meal of stuffed mushrooms, jacket potatoes with tuna mayonnaise, followed by
baked apples. Willow brought a bottle of French dry white vin de pays as a contribution. It was a modest but enjoyable, fruity wine, the best the village shop could offer.

  While eating, they talked of their various boating experiences, and Marnie was fascinated to learn about living with a boat horse. If she had not known Poppy, she would have been even more astonished at the way the horse took so much responsibility for running the boat.

  They were relaxed and happy in each other’s company, but they all knew their time together was coming to an end, and they had mixed feelings about the sojourn in Knightly St John of Willow, Ben, Poppy and Glastonbury.

  Chapter 58

  Golden Opportunity

  Anne had returned refreshed and rejuvenated on Sunday evening and had had a long conversation on the phone with Donovan, who promised to come and see her as soon as the university term ended. On Monday morning she buckled down with enthusiasm to organising the office of Walker & Co. Later in the day she would go into college for the results of her latest project and to report progress on her new assignment.

  Anne was making coffee for the builders when they had an unexpected visitor. Margaret Giles came into the office, accepted the offer of coffee, took off her coat and sat down. She looked less than happy, and Marnie could guess why.

  “Not like you to be down here during school hours, Margaret,” she said.

  “Perhaps I’m not always indispensable. They can do without me for half an hour. Anyway, I’m on school business, or at least, I was.”

  She took a mug from Anne and thanked her. Its design was from the mediaeval tapestry of the Lady and the Unicorn, and she held it up to admire the image and rich colours. Her expression was sombre.

  “You’ve been to the canal,” Marnie said quietly.

  Margaret nodded. “Yes. I went to see Willow. I hoped she might relent after having time to think about the Open University project.”

  “But?”

  “They’ve gone. The boat isn’t there any more.”

  “No,” said Marnie.