Day for Dying

Home > Other > Day for Dying > Page 21
Day for Dying Page 21

by Dorothy Simpson


  ‘But that’s just the point, don’t you see? I’ve had enough, I really have. And to think of it all coming out in Court . . .’ She shuddered. ‘I couldn’t bear it. I really couldn’t.’

  ‘It would all be done very discreetly, Mrs Sylvester,’ said Thanet. ‘In cases of blackmail we take great trouble to protect the victim, otherwise nobody would ever bring a prosecution.’

  ‘No! All I want to do now is put it behind me! Please, Ralph. And have you thought what it would do to Tess? If it went to Court, there’s no way we could keep it from her.’

  Sylvester smote his forehead. ‘Idiot! Damn and blast, I hadn’t thought of that! You’re right, darl, of course you are. OK. If that’s the way you want it, then that’s the way it’ll be. But you do agree that she’ll have to go out on her ear, don’t you? Now? Today?’

  Marion nodded.

  ‘Then humour me in this. It goes against the grain to let her off so lightly, and I’d like to put the frighteners on her, make her realise that she’s only getting off by the skin of her teeth. So I want to confront her with it now, in front of the police.’

  ‘OK, Ralph. It’s up to you.’

  ‘You’re happy about that?’ He gave her a searching look.

  She nodded again.

  ‘Right. And you don’t mind waiting, Inspector?’

  ‘Not in the least. Quite the contrary, in fact.’

  ‘Good.’ Sylvester jumped up and marched purposefully to the door. ‘Mrs Mallis?’ he bellowed.

  Thanet had noticed a large handbell on the table in the hall near the telephone and Sylvester went out and rang it vigorously. ‘Mrs Mallis!’ he shouted again. Then, more quietly, it’s all right, Roper, there’s nothing wrong. Sorry to have disturbed you.’

  Roper had obviously come out on to the landing to see what all the noise was about.

  Sylvester came back into the room. ‘She’s coming,’ he said.

  A moment later Barbara Mallis entered and stood just inside the door, hands folded meekly in front of her, the picture of an obedient servant. ‘You rang?’ she said sweetly, sarcastically. Sylvester had rung the bell so loudly it had probably been heard by the Fieldings down by the front gate.

  ‘I certainly did.’ Sylvester had taken up a stance on the hearthrug, hands clasped behind his back, chin down. There was a pent-up ferocity in him, as if he were restraining himself with difficulty. He reminded Thanet of a bull about to charge and that made him wonder: had this latent violence erupted during an encounter with Max on Saturday night?

  Now that she had had time to absorb the atmosphere in the room Barbara Mallis obviously sensed the tension and hostility. Her eyes flickered from Sylvester, to his wife, to Thanet, to Lineham and back to Sylvester again. She shifted uneasily and subtly her attitude underwent a change. Her eyes became guarded and she frowned. ‘Why? What’s the matter?’

  ‘How you have the nerve to stand there and ask me that, I simply do not know!’ said Sylvester. ‘What the bloody hell do you think is the matter?’

  Her aggression flared up in response to his. ‘How should I know?’

  ‘Blackmail, that’s what’s the matter! It’s been going on for years, I gather.’

  Barbara Mallis shot Marion a look of pure venom. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Oh,’ breathed Marion. ‘You wicked woman. You really are a wicked, wicked woman.’

  ‘It’s interesting,’ said Thanet, ‘that only a short time ago Sergeant Lineham and I were querying the fact that you seemed to have so much money to throw around. Now we know where you got it from, don’t we? You do realise, of course, that blackmail is a criminal offence?’

  Barbara Mallis gave Marion another vicious look. ‘Amazing what stories some people will dream up to make themselves the centre of attention,’ she said, obviously deciding that whatever happened there would be no future for her in the Sylvester household. ‘Especially bored middle-aged housewives without enough to do.’

  ‘How dare you!’ shouted Sylvester. ‘I won’t have you insulting my wife like that!’

  Marion stood up alongside him and put a restraining hand on his arm. ‘Shh, Ralph. Don’t let her get to you.’ She looked at the housekeeper and lifted her chin. ‘Middle-aged I may be, but at least my story can be backed up by proof.’

  ‘Proof? What proof? I always . . .’ Barbara Mallis’s mouth closed like a trap over the dangerous words which had almost escaped her lips.

  ‘You always what, Mrs Mallis?’ said Thanet politely. ‘Always insisted on payment in cash? Is that what you were about to say?’ He glanced at Marion Sylvester for confirmation.

  She nodded. ‘But I kept a record. Always.’

  Barbara Mallis’s lips tightened.

  ‘And of course,’ said Lineham, unable to resist joining in, ‘we can always check your bank statements. Unless you actually kept the money under your mattress or in the wardrobe – where we’d still find some of it, I imagine – you must have paid at least some of it into the bank.’

  She said nothing, but the shaft had gone home. The muscles along her jawline bulged as her teeth clenched. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed, an unpleasant, jeering sound. ‘Haven’t you forgotten something?’

  ‘What?’ said Sylvester.

  ‘Your precious daughter. Tess. Have you told her, too? No. I can see you haven’t. Such a pity if she were to find out, wouldn’t it be?’

  ‘Right!’ said Sylvester. ‘That’s it!’ He turned to his wife. ‘We’ve got to do it!’

  Marion shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘But, darl . . .’

  ‘No!’ She looked at Barbara Mallis. ‘I think you ought to know that we had decided not to prosecute.’

  The housekeeper’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Partly,’ said Marion, ‘because I was too much of a coward to face all this coming out in Court. But also because if it did there would be no way to prevent Tess from knowing. And she’s been hurt enough. So let me tell you this. If you breathe so much as one word – no, even drop the merest, slightest hint to Tess, then I shan’t hesitate to go ahead and take you to Court, however difficult I may find it. That I promise you.’

  ‘I second that,’ said Sylvester. ‘And meanwhile, you can pack your bags and get out of our house. I give you one hour, no more.’

  Barbara Mallis smiled. ‘My contract says one month’s notice. Or pay in lieu of.’

  ‘Don’t push me,’ said Sylvester between clenched teeth. ‘One hour. And count yourself lucky.’

  She shrugged. ‘Ah well, it was worth a try.’ And she walked jauntily out of the room.

  ‘What a poisonous woman!’ said Lineham, expressing the feelings of all present.

  ‘Good riddance!’ said Marion. ‘Oh Ralph, it’s such a relief, I can’t tell you! I’d never have believed that something good could come out of all this!’

  ‘We’re not out of the woods yet, darl,’ said Sylvester grimly. ‘Remember what the Inspector said. Somehow we’ve got to prove I wasn’t involved in what happened to Max.’

  ‘We will.’ Marion smiled radiantly up at him. ‘It’ll be all right, you’ll see.’

  Back in the car Thanet said, ‘I wish I shared her confidence. For my money, Sylvester is still at the top of the list. But it’s difficult to see where to go from here. Tell you what. The team working on the suspects’ alibi checks should be finished by now. If the reports are all in perhaps it’s time that we had a session putting them under a microscope.’

  ‘But DC Penry is doing all that on the computer. It’s ideal for that sort of job.’

  ‘All right. So we’ll talk to Penry, see if he’s come up with anything.’

  ‘And if he hasn’t?’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  Lineham groaned. ‘I know what that means. And there was I thinking that was it for today, I could go home and put my feet up.’

  ‘Come on Mike, that’s not like you, where’s your enthusiasm, your dedication! Personally I know I won’t rest
tonight until I feel satisfied that we’ve been over all the ground we’ve covered so far and haven’t missed anything.’

  Back at the office DC Penry was unequivocal. ‘I’ve just finished, sir. Every piece of information with reference to the alibis is now on file. It’s all collated and I’ve asked the computer every possible question I can think of, without positive results.’

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t talk about that machine as if it were a person,’ said Thanet. The next generation of policemen would no doubt take computers for granted but personally he didn’t like them, never had and never would. He conceded that they could be useful in certain cases but their major disadvantage in his view was that they were only as efficient as the person who operated them; if you didn’t ask the right question you wouldn’t get the right answer.

  ‘Come on, Mike,’ he said now. ‘Let’s see what the human computers can do.’

  Lineham rolled his eyes at Penry but followed Thanet up to the office.

  ‘Right,’ said Thanet. ‘I’ll take Hartley, Gerald and Anthea, as they were together around supper time, and you take the Sylvesters.’

  ‘Including Tess?’

  ‘Including Tess. Just in case she’d had enough of his flirting and decided to have it out with him.’

  ‘And left him to drown?’

  ‘Mike, just get on with it, will you? And remember, we’re looking for discrepancies, no matter how small, no matter how apparently unimportant.’

  They settled down to work. Bentley and his team had done an excellent job, thought Thanet. He had been the perfect choice for the job. Patient, thorough, painstaking, he had made sure that all witnesses had been interviewed, even if one of his team had had to go back several times to catch them in. The reports had then all been assembled in logical order.

  First came the statement of the suspects. Some time had obviously been spent with each of them, dredging through his or her memory. Checking quickly, Thanet counted that Anthea claimed to have seen or spoken to twenty-six people who might have remembered seeing her on her way to, in or on her way back from the upstairs bathroom which had been made available to female guests. Hartley had come up with eighteen names and Gerald, who had remained behind in the queue and then returned to their table, with fifteen. On each suspect’s statement these names had been listed in the claimed chronological order, with approximate times beside each one.

  The witnesses’ statements had then also been assembled in the same chronological order. Some of them remembered seeing or speaking to Anthea/Hartley/Gerald at the times they claimed, some did not, but then that was scarcely surprising; there were a lot of people milling about and just because someone didn’t happen to have noticed you at the same time as you noticed them, it didn’t mean you weren’t there. Anthea had actually been separated from the other two longest, Thanet noted, having left them at 9.40 and returned about 10, but again this was not unduly surprising; women always tended to take a long time in the bathroom, presumably because they were seizing the opportunity to comb their hair or repair their make-up. Hartley had been away for between ten and fifteen minutes, having left just after Anthea and returned five minutes before her – a period therefore during which both he and Gerald would theoretically have had the opportunity to slip along to the pool house. Amongst those who backed up their statements were Barbara Mallis, who had seen Anthea coming down the stairs; Fielding, who had been looking for Carey at the time but had noticed Hartley coming out of the dining room; and Marion Sylvester and Jeopard’s aunt, Louisa Burke, who had noticed Gerald returning to his table just before Hartley (Gerald claimed to have been chatting in the queue for ten minutes, but the witnesses interviewed about this were vague about the length of time they had had to wait to collect their plates of food).

  Thanet sat back and sighed.

  Lineham looked up. ‘You haven’t found anything, sir?’

  Thanet shook his head. ‘Have you?’

  ‘Not a thing.’

  ‘The big problem is the timing, isn’t it. We’re talking about such a short period, only twenty minutes at the most, and practically everyone says they couldn’t be sure of the exact time. Why should they, after all? It was a party, no one was clock-watching. Most of them relate what they did or who they spoke to to certain events.’ Thanet shuffled through the statements, picking out phrases and reading them aloud: ‘“After we were told supper was ready”; “Before I collected the first course”; “Not long before Ralph asked me if I’d seen Max”; “After I’d been to the loo”.’ He tossed the papers on to his desk in disgust.

  ‘I know. Bentley’s done his best but this chronological order is pretty useless really. Most of it is according to what the suspects have told us.’

  Thanet shuffled the reports together. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘That’s it for tonight. I don’t know about you, but my brain feels as though it’s stuffed with cotton wool. Let’s sleep on it.’

  If we can, he thought gloomily as he drove home.

  Matters improved, however, when he got there. Joan came to greet him, all smiles.

  ‘You look cheerful,’ he said, giving her a half-hearted kiss.

  ‘Which is more than could be said of you. Case not going well?’

  Thanet sighed and shook his head.

  ‘Well, this’ll make you feel better. Ben’s decided to go to university! He’s putting Bristol as his first choice.’

  ‘Good! Excellent!’ Joan was right. The news had lifted his spirits. ‘Is he in?’

  ‘No. Come on, have something to eat. That’ll cheer you up even more.’

  And once again she was right. By the time he’d consumed beef casserole with dumplings and settled down to watch television with his pipe drawing well, he was feeling a new man. Forget the case, he told himself. Tomorrow is another day.

  It was an effort but he managed it, sitting mindlessly through a documentary about AIDS in the Far East, followed by a play which was so boring he fell asleep.

  It wasn’t until he was getting into bed that he realised: as so often happened, while his conscious mind was switched off his subconscious had been working away regardless. The conviction sprang into his brain full-blown: some time today he had read, seen, heard something which he should have picked up and hadn’t.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ said Joan, noticing his sudden immobility.

  He shook his head as if to clear it. ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘You’re feeling all right?’ she said, in alarm.

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine. But I’ve just realised that I’ve missed something.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘If I only knew!’

  ‘Sleep on it,’ said Joan. ‘You’ve often said it’s the best way.’

  ‘Easier said than done.’

  ‘In that case . . .’ she said, rolling over to face him, putting her arms around him and lifting her face to his kiss.

  Thanet wasn’t going to argue with that. He responded with enthusiasm.

  TWENTY-ONE

  After their lovemaking Thanet went out like a light and didn’t wake up until the alarm went off next morning. He was in the bathroom shaving when it hit him. Of course! That was what had been bothering him last night!

  The revelation had unsteadied his hand and a bright red globule of blood oozed out where he had nicked his chin. Automatically he dabbed at it with a tissue and reached for his styptic stick, his mind busy with this new discovery. Could it have any significance? The more he thought about it the more his initial excitement faded. It was probably a genuine mistake on the part of the witness and even if it wasn’t, it was difficult to see its relevance. Still, it was precisely the type of discrepancy he and Lineham had been looking for last night, and as such would have to be followed up.

  Of course, his memory could be playing tricks on him and he might not be remembering the statement accurately. Anxious to get to the office and find out, he speeded up his early-morning routine. He was eating a piece of toast standing up when Joan came into t
he kitchen. She glanced at the bare table. ‘No breakfast?’

  Because he never knew whether or when he would get lunch Thanet invariably ate a good breakfast. In the early days of their marriage it had been cornflakes followed by bacon and egg, white toast, butter and marmalade. Only the marmalade had survived Joan’s campaign for healthy eating, the rest having gradually been replaced by bran flakes or muesli mixed with fresh or stewed fruit and yoghurt, followed by wholemeal toast and polyunsaturated margarine. Bacon and egg were now saved as a rare treat for high days and holidays.

  He shook his head. ‘Something I want to check.’ He kissed her, shoved the last piece of toast into his mouth and left.

  He arrived at work before Lineham and was riffling through the reports, looking for the statement he wanted, when the sergeant arrived.

  ‘Morning sir. What’s up?’ said Lineham, registering Thanet’s air of purpose.

  ‘Remembered something this morning, and I just want to check. Ah, here it is.’ Thanet began to read. A moment later he stabbed triumphantly at the paper with his forefinger. ‘I thought so. Look.’ He turned the statement around and passed it across to Lineham. ‘Read that.’

  Lineham did so. And read it again. Then he looked up, puzzled. ‘So?’

  Thanet leaned back in his chair. ‘I’m glad you missed it too. I was beginning to think I was slipping. But before I went to bed last night I began to think there was something I’d overlooked – you know, you just get that feeling sometimes. Then this morning I realised what it was.’

  ‘I wish I knew what you were talking about.’ Lineham glanced down at the paper he was holding. ‘I still can’t see that there’s anything to get excited about here.’

  ‘Well, I agree that there may be nothing in it. It could just be a slip of the tongue. Or perhaps a misunderstanding on Bentley’s part.’

  ‘Sir!’ Lineham put the paper down and folded his arms belligerently. ‘If you don’t tell me what you’re going on about . . .’

  ‘All right, all right.’ Thanet picked up the sheet of paper. ‘This is one of the statements taken to check Hartley’s alibi, right?’

 

‹ Prev