Day for Dying

by Dorothy Simpson

  Thanet gestured at the painting upon which she was obviously working. ‘May I?’

  She shrugged and nodded, her expression still hostile.

  Leaning over to look at it he saw at once what he had not appreciated before, that all the objects in the still life were shiny. It dawned on him that what interested her was the reflections. Each object reflected the others, the shapes distorted by the curved surfaces, as were the diamonds of hazy colour cast up by the cloth. The degree of detail was astonishing. If part of an artist’s task is to enable the viewer to look at the world with new eyes, she was certainly succeeding. He glanced up at her with respect. ‘This must be incredibly difficult to paint.’

  Sensing his genuine interest she thawed a little. ‘It is a bit complicated, yes.’

  He studied it a moment longer before straightening up. ‘I believe a famous writer once said, “If it wasn’t difficult everybody would be doing it.” ’

  That amused her and she even managed a slight smile. ‘I never thought of it like that but yes, I suppose that’s true.’

  ‘It must take you ages to complete a painting. This is so detailed.’

  ‘It does, unfortunately. I’m afraid I work at a snail’s pace.’

  ‘And the fewer you finish, the fewer you have to sell.’

  ‘If you can sell them at all!’

  ‘Yes. I imagine it’s not the easiest field in which to make a living.’

  ‘You can say that again!’

  She was now almost ready to be cooperative, thought Thanet. ‘I suppose you collect all this sort of thing for your work.’ He waved a hand at the crowded windowsills.

  ‘I’m a real magpie. You just never know when something is going to come in useful.’ She sat down in front of the table, swivelling the chair around to face them as if conceding that she was now ready to talk. ‘There’s only one spare chair, but it’s warmer in here than in the sitting room. Tip the cat off, if you like.’

  Thanet glanced at the basket chair to which she had referred. The cat which had followed her in was now firmly ensconced upon it, engaged in its ablutions, one leg stuck up in the air. The cushion, he noted, was plastered with cats’ hairs. ‘It’s all right, we’ll stand.’

  ‘Or there are a couple of stools in the kitchen.’

  Thanet glanced at Lineham and the sergeant went off to fetch them.

  ‘Actually, it was your daughter we wanted to talk to.’

  Her expression hardened. ‘I assumed as much. But I’m afraid you’re out of luck. She’s terribly upset. She’s still in bed, been there all day.’

  The stools, Thanet was relieved to see, were made of wood and reasonably clean.

  ‘I’m afraid we really have to talk to her.’

  ‘Won’t I do, instead? She can’t tell you anything I don’t know.’

  ‘Were you at the party last night?’ Thanet was pretty sure she hadn’t been. He hadn’t seen two Greenways on the guest list.

  She shook her head.

  ‘In that case, we really must see her.’

  ‘She won’t get up. I know she won’t.’

  ‘Would you try to convince her it would be a good idea? She’ll have to talk to us sooner or later and it would be far better for her to get it over with.’

  Mrs Greenway stared at him for a few moments, considering what he had said, trying to make up her mind. Then her mouth tugged down at the corners. ‘I suppose you’re right.’ She stood up. ‘All right, I’ll try. But I can’t promise anything.’

  * * *

  I. Last Seen Alive

  TWELVE

  When she had gone Lineham said, ‘D’you think we could open the door for a few minutes, sir, let some fresh air in?’

  ‘Better not. She might not be too pleased and we don’t want to upset her now she’s come around.’ Thanet sat down on one of the stools Lineham had brought.

  The sergeant reluctantly followed suit. ‘How can anyone live in an atmosphere like this?’

  ‘They’re used to it, presumably, don’t notice it any more.’

  ‘Don’t notice it? How can anyone fail to notice it? I’ve spent so long holding my breath I thought I would suffocate!’

  ‘Breathe through your mouth, Mike. And stop being such an old woman. I don’t like it any more than you do but we have to do this interview and that’s all there is to it.’

  Lineham looked mutinous and muttered, ‘We ought to get extra pay for this sort of thing.’

  ‘Danger money you mean?’ said Thanet with a grin.

  Lineham gave him a sheepish look and then, his normal good humour reasserting itself, grinned back.

  ‘What’ll we do if Anthea won’t come down, sir?’

  ‘Make an appointment for her to come in to Headquarters, I suppose. Anyway, let’s hope that doesn’t happen. I’d much prefer to talk to her now.’

  They were in luck. A few moments later Mrs Greenway returned and said, ‘She’s getting dressed. She’ll be down shortly.’

  ‘Good. Thank you.’ Thanet waited until she had sat down and then added, ‘I gather you weren’t too keen on Max Jeopard.’

  She grimaced. ‘How did you guess!’

  ‘Would you mind telling us why?’

  ‘Where do I begin?’

  ‘Oh, it’s not as bad as that, surely,’ said Lineham.

  ‘You didn’t know him.’

  ‘No,’ said Thanet. ‘But we’re learning.’

  ‘Well, you’ve come to the right person. I’ve known Max since he was in his teens. He and Anthea used to run around in the same crowd of young people. They were always in and out of each other’s houses, so one way and the other I saw quite a lot of them.’

  ‘You’re talking about Max, his brother Hartley, Tess and Carey Sylvester, your daughter Anthea, Gerald Argent and Linda Fielding?’ said Thanet.

  ‘You haven’t wasted much time, have you! Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘So tell us about him,’ said Thanet.

  Mrs Greenway frowned. ‘I always find it difficult to describe people I know well. I suppose,’ she said reluctantly, ‘the most striking thing about him was his, well, I suppose you’d call it charisma. He could charm the birds out of the trees, could Max. To begin with you thought, what a delightful young man! Then after a while it began to dawn on you that this façade – his politeness, good manners and so on – was all just a means to an end, that of getting his own way. Sooner or later, everybody always ended up doing what Max wanted. It took ages for me to realise this but when I did I wondered why on earth I hadn’t seen it before. There’s no doubt about it, he was the sort of person who thought he could get away with anything and usually did.’

  Until now, thought Thanet grimly. This time he went too far.

  ‘The girls were all dazzled by him, of course,’ Mrs Greenway was saying.

  ‘All?’

  ‘Yes. Even Linda, and she was very different from the other two, much quieter and more retiring, and she didn’t actually spend as much time with the group as Anthea and Tess. But now and then I’d catch her looking at Max and there’s no doubt about it, she fancied him all right. Poor girl, she’s desperately ill now, I believe. I feel so sorry for her parents, they absolutely doted on that child. What was I saying?’

  ‘You were talking about Max’s fascination for women.’

  ‘Ah, yes. Well, Tess absolutely adored him, of course, and poor Anthea never got a look in. The curious thing about Max was that although he couldn’t resist making a pass at any eligible female within arm’s reach, there was really only ever one girl he was seriously interested in.’

  ‘Tess.’

  ‘Tess. The trouble was that, being Max, he was determined to have her on his own terms.’

  ‘Which were?’

  ‘That he should have complete freedom to do as he wanted. Max was a great one for having his cake and eating it. So Tess was expected to wait patiently at home while he bummed off around the world for as long or as short a time as took his fancy. I’m not s
urprised she got fed up with it. It was always Tess who broke off with him, you know, not the other way around. Until, eventually, he went a little too far and discovered that she’d finally given up on him and was about to marry someone else.’

  ‘Gerald Argent.’

  ‘Exactly. When I heard Tess and Gerald were engaged I thought, good for Gerald! I knew he’d always had his eye on Tess but while Max was around he never had a hope. And I must admit to a sneaky feeling of satisfaction that just for once Max wasn’t going to get what he wanted. I should have known better! When Max came home at Christmas I think he realised this was his very last chance with Tess and he went all out to get her back. Poor Gerald never stood a chance. He was very cut up about it, I believe, or so Anthea says, anyway.’

  ‘It wasn’t the first time Max had pinched someone’s girl, was it. I believe he did the same thing to his brother, with your daughter.’

  ‘Typical!’ Mrs Greenway clamped her lips together as if to prevent her angry feelings from spilling out against her will and it was immediately obvious that she had no intention of talking as freely about Anthea as she had about the others.

  So, how to get her to open up? Thanet tried an oblique approach. ‘Tess was away when this happened, I believe?’

  ‘In America, yes.’

  ‘How long had your daughter been going out with Hartley, at that time?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I wasn’t counting.’

  ‘Weeks? Months? Years?’

  ‘Oh, months, I’d say.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘I told you, I wasn’t counting!’

  ‘At a rough guess, then?’

  ‘Five, six, I suppose.’

  ‘So it was quite a well-established relationship.’

  ‘Look, if you want to find out about this, you’ll just have to talk to Anthea. I’m not prepared to discuss it.’

  ‘Discuss what?’ A new voice, from the doorway. Anthea, at last. Her long dark hair was caught up into a pony-tail on the top of her head with an elastic band and she was wearing jeans and a baggy sweater with sleeves so long that only the very tips of her fingers protruded. But although her clothes were much more conventional than last night she still retained a slightly exotic quality, her slightly slanting eyes lending her a touch of the Orient absent in her mother.

  ‘Your love life,’ said Mrs Greenway, clearly attempting to shock Anthea into indignation.

  Anthea yawned. ‘How boring!’ she said. She sauntered to the basket chair, picked up the cat and sat down, settling it on to her knee. Almost at once it began to purr.

  ‘I think perhaps your mother is exaggerating a little,’ said Thanet, introducing himself. ‘I’m simply trying to find out more about Max Jeopard and naturally I have to talk to all the people who knew him.’

  ‘No need to pussyfoot around,’ said Anthea. ‘No doubt you heard about the little act I put on last night. Ouch! Stop it, Tibbles!’ The cat was kneading Anthea’s thighs with half-extended claws.

  ‘Act? What act?’ said her mother sharply.

  ‘Oh don’t fuss, Mum.’

  ‘I want to know what you’re talking about!’ Mrs Greenway glared at her daughter, willing her to give in, but Anthea wasn’t budging. Her mother switched her gaze to Thanet. ‘Inspector?’

  But Thanet had no intention of alienating Anthea. ‘Mrs Greenway, I’m sorry, but I think it would be best if you left us to talk to Anthea alone.’

  ‘No! It wouldn’t be right.’

  ‘Oh Mum, really! I am a grown woman, not a twelve-year-old! I agree with the Inspector. It would be easier all round if you went.’

  ‘What is it you don’t want me to hear? I insist on staying!’ And then, as no one responded, ‘You can’t turn me out of a room in my own house! I refuse to leave!’

  ‘Very well,’ said Thanet, rising. ‘Miss Greenway can accompany us to Headquarters, instead.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ said Anthea in disgust. ‘What a fuss about nothing! Sit down, Inspector, do. I don’t want to go trailing into Sturrenden when we can get it over with more quickly here. Please, Mum, just go, will you? I promise you there’s no need to worry. It’s no big deal.’

  ‘Well . . . If you’re sure . . .’

  ‘I’m sure!’

  Mrs Greenway’s reluctance showed in every line of her body, in her dragging footsteps and the backward glance she cast over her shoulder.

  ‘I’m her only chick,’ said Anthea with a grin when she had gone. ‘She can’t help it.’

  ‘Perfectly understandable,’ said Thanet. ‘But now . . .’

  ‘OK, OK, I’ll tell you all about it, right? Then if there’s anything more you want to ask you can fire away afterwards. I’ve got nothing to hide.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘It’s all quite simple really,’ said Anthea, with a toss of her pony-tail. ‘I don’t know how much you’ve found out about Max yet but you may or may not know that until Christmas he’d been away on a really long trip, in South America. He’s a travel writer so naturally he has to travel. The point is that before he went we had a bit of a thing going and I had the distinct impression that when he came back we’d take up where we left off. But we didn’t. Instead, he made a beeline for Tess again and just didn’t want to know, as far as I was concerned. Well, naturally, I was, to put it mildly, rather pissed off with him.’ She shrugged. ‘Hence the little scene last night. End of story.’

  ‘If he’s been back since Christmas why wait until last night to tell him so?’

  ‘Oh I didn’t! Oh no! I told him what I thought of him, believe me, in no uncertain terms.’

  ‘So why tell him again, in public?’

  Anthea abandoned her world-weary pose and sat up with a jerk, leaning forward in her eagerness to get them to understand, and the cat, affronted, jumped down and stalked off into the kitchen. ‘But that was just the point, don’t you see? In public. Before, I’d just spoken to him in private but this time I wanted to humiliate him in front of everyone he knew.’

  ‘Including Tess?’

  Anthea’s expression changed. ‘I must admit that was the one thing I felt badly about. I didn’t want to hurt her and I made sure she wasn’t actually in the room before I staged my protest, but I’m afraid I was so mad with him that every other consideration just went out of the window.’

  ‘Every other consideration?’ said Thanet quietly. ‘Precisely how angry with him were you?’

  She stared at him, the animation fading. Then she frowned and narrowed her eyes. ‘What are you getting at? You surely aren’t suggesting that I . . .? Oh no. You can’t be.’

  ‘That you pushed him into the pool?’ said Thanet. ‘Did you?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! As far as I was concerned I’d made my point and that was it, finish!’ And she made a chopping movement as if to indicate how final her severance with Max had been.

  Apart from a slight puffiness beneath her eyes Anthea had so far revealed no sign of grief or regret at Max’s death, thought Thanet. Yet her mother said that she was so upset she had stayed in bed all day and certainly last night she looked as though she had been crying. He distinctly remembered thinking, when he noticed her, that there went someone who had mourned Max Jeopard’s passing. So, had the grief been for him, or had there been some other reason for her distress? He had to find out how she truly felt about Max in order to gauge the likelihood of her having had something to do with his death. How could he get behind this show of bravado? ‘It looks as though someone did,’ he said. ‘By all accounts Max was a strong swimmer. No one has suggested that he’d had too much to drink, and it’s unlikely that he would have slipped if he’d been in the pool house alone. We think he went there to meet someone.’ Thanet glanced at Lineham, who understood at once what Thanet was trying to do, and chimed in.

  ‘We think there was a struggle.’

  ‘That Max slipped . . .’

  ‘Or was pushed . . .’

  ‘And fell into the pool . . .’
<
br />   ‘Knocking his head on the side as he fell.’

  ‘So he was unconscious as he went into the water.’

  ‘And whoever it was just let him drown.’

  They stopped and Lineham’s last words hung in the air, with all their overtones of callousness and deliberate intent on the part of Max’s assailant.

  Anthea stared at the two policemen, eyes glazed, obviously visualising the scene they had conjured up. Then her lower lip began to tremble and she sucked it in, bit on it and closed her eyes as if to shut out the images in her brain. Two tears squeezed out from beneath her closed eyelids. ‘Oh, God,’ she said, and covered her face with her hands.

  Thanet and Lineham glanced at each other, reading their own emotions mirrored in the other’s face. They had achieved their aim but couldn’t help feeling ashamed of themselves. Many policemen over the years build up a carapace of insensitivity which enables them to employ such tactics without the slightest qualms of conscience, but Thanet had never been able to do so – nor would he have wanted to. Somewhat pompously he told himself that he was not prepared to relinquish his humanity. At times like this, however, he wondered if somewhere along the line he had done so without even realising it. After all, Anthea had not for a moment denied her anger with Max. Should that not have been sufficient?

  ‘Miss Greenway,’ he said gently, leaning forward. ‘I’m sorry. Our account was too graphic and I apologise.’

  She took her hands away from her face and gave him a searching look, blinking away the tears which were still welling up.

  Without a word Lineham handed her a handkerchief and she wiped her eyes before blowing her nose.

  ‘I’ll be frank with you,’ said Thanet. ‘The trouble is that even the most innocent of witnesses feels threatened at being questioned by the police, and resorts to defensive behaviour. It’s understandable, of course, but it does get in the way, hold things up.’