White Lies

by Rachel Green

  “Not unless you can go to the bathroom for me.” Meinwen gave him a wan smile. “Tea is a diuretic, after all.”

  Chapter 31

  Meinwen nodded her thanks to Sergeant Peters when he climbed into the back seat of Inspector White’s car, allowing her the relative comfort of the front. She winced when he helped her put the seat belt on.

  “Tell me again why we’re taking you with us, Ms. Jones?” White turned the key in the ignition and the engine sputtered into life with a blast of black smoke from the exhaust. “I’d rather take a squad car as back up, especially if he’s armed with a crossbow.”

  “We don’t know it was Jimmy who broke into the manor, Inspector. You’re jumping to conclusions.”

  “I’m just suggesting it’s better to be safe than shot with a barbed arrow, that’s all.” He did a three-point turn in the road outside Meinwen’s house. “What advantage does having you with us convey?”

  “Jimmy and I have established a relationship of trust ever since I agreed to help him get his brother’s case reopened.”

  “Oh? It was your idea was it?”

  “In a manner of speaking. He convinced me John Fenstone wasn’t the type of man to commit suicide. If you talk to any of his colleagues, you’ll find he was the life and soul of the office.”

  “Would this be his estate agent colleagues, his sex hotel colleagues or his paying johns?”

  “I was thinking of the estate agents, but I’m sure it would be the same story anywhere. Everybody liked John Fenstone.”

  White turned into Markham Road and increased speed. “Someone didn’t, Ms. Jones, and we need to find out who.”

  “Yes, Inspector, of course.” Meinwen smarted from the reprimand. He was right, of course, but he needn’t put her down like that. She was only trying to help. She fell silent, the next time she spoke was to point out the flat where she’d last seen Jimmy and the spot, as near as she could determine, where she’d been mugged. Two uniformed officers approached as they pulled up but White waved them away.

  “We’ve been canvassing the area trying to find a witness to your attack. Curiously, no one wants to talk to the police around here.” He locked the car and helped Meinwen up the short path where she pressed the buzzer to flat five.

  Just like the previous night there was no reply.

  White tried the buzzers to the other flats and got hold of Mrs. Rogers. That got them inside and showing her his badge through the glass pane of her front door got him upstairs. He hammered on the door to flat five and called out “This is Laverstone police, Mr. Fenstone. We just need to ask you a few questions.”

  When there was still no reply he nodded to Peters and stepped back. The sergeant backed up to the opposite wall and took a run at the door, shoulder-barging and falling to the floor, clutching his arm. “Security door, sir. You’ll have to get an entry team up here.”

  “Jimmy? It’s Meinwen. Open up.” Meinwen banged on the door herself before turning back to the inspector. “Do you need to get in? You haven’t got a warrant to search the premises.

  “He might be a suspect in a murder case but contrary to your expectations, Ms. Jones, I haven’t automatically assumed him to be the guilty party. On the contrary, without knowing why his brother was murdered I think it entirely possible Jimmy Fenstone could be a target for his brother’s killer, thus I am concerned with finding out if he’d been murdered in his bed.”

  “Oh, I see. Sorry.” Meinwen pointed to a door in the opposite wall with a sign that said: Maintenance personnel only. “We could try the roof. There’s access to the flat from there.”

  “Excellent.” They crossed the hallway and tried the door. It, too, was locked but Peters pulled out a set of twisted metal rods. He grinned at Meinwen’s expression.

  “Lock picks. It’s amazing what you learn in the nick. From other officers, I mean. The door to the flat is security bolted and you can’t get the leverage you need with these but this door here”–there was a series of clicks from the lock–“is far simpler.” He pulled on the handle and revealed a set of stairs. “Et voila.”

  “Good work, Sergeant.” White gave him a nod of approval. “Up you go.”

  “Yes, sir.” He headed up the stairs followed by Meinwen and the inspector. At the top was another door, locked with a self-closing fire escape bar. Peters pushed open the door and looked about for something to prevent it closing again. There was a convenient block of wood to one side.

  “That’s Jimmy’s flat.” Meinwen pointed to the huge expanse of glass. “Well, John’s really but Jimmy’s due to inherit it. He was staying there.”

  “Excellent. Let’s have a look.” White peered cautiously down into the flat below. “There’s no sign of movement. No television on or anything.”

  “There’s a door here, sir.” Peters tried it. “Locked as well. Security glass, too. Should I call the entry team after all?”

  “His car’s gone.” Meinwen stood on the edge of the roof. “John’s car I mean. It was parked over there. It’s gone.”

  “That answers your question, Sergeant. He’s done a runner.” White joined Meinwen at the edge of the roof. “Can you remember what sort of car it was, Ms. Jones?”

  “I don’t know. I never actually saw it. Jimmy made it bleep from here but it was too dark to actually tell what it was. A saloon is the best I can say.”

  “That’s all right. We’ll find out what was registered to John Fenstone and put a BOLO out for it. We’ll pick him up sooner or later.” White gave Peters an upward nod “See to that, would you, Sergeant? And while you’re at it, request a warrant for this flat.”

  “Wait.” Meinwen put a hand on his arm. “He could be at his Ashgate Road house.”

  “Right, let’s check there as well, then.”

  They clattered down the stairs but before leaving the building the inspector wrote a note for Jimmy informing him of their need to speak to him and left it in the mailbox for flat five. Meinwen tapped it thoughtfully. That explained the small key on John’s key fob.

  On the way back to the car, she went to the spot where she’d been mugged and cast about, hoping to find evidence of her attacker or at least her phone back. It was a fairly old one and wouldn’t have been worth much. It was possible her attacker had just dumped it. She knew the cash would be long gone and the bank card had already been canceled so she wasn’t bothered about them.

  She checked behind the industrial-sized bins at the bottom of the nearest maisonette but they were too tall to get into, even if the smell hadn’t been enough to make her eyes water. “I really need my phone.”

  “It’ll have been sold on or dropped in the river by now.” Peters tried to shepherd her back to the car. “Was it not insured?”

  “Insured? You must be joking.”

  “I just wondered. Sometimes you get free phone insurance with your bank account.” He managed to steer her in the right direction. “We’ve bound to have one in lost property you can have. We only send them off to be recycled for charity and you’re a deserving cause yourself.”

  “It’s not the phone so much.” Meinwen reached the car and climbed in behind the inspector to leave the front seat for Peters, though she still favored her good side. “It’s the numbers I had stored in it. For all I know I’ve had people trying to get in touch with me all morning. Jimmy, for example.” She put her seat belt on as White accelerated. “Or Catherine Godwin to apologize for being such an arse to me last night.”

  “And what was she an arse about?”

  “She didn’t believe me when I told her Richard was dead. Virtually accused me of making it all up just to upset her. As if I’d do that.”

  “Of course not.” White was thin-lipped. “You wouldn’t dream of making something up to flush out a murder suspect, would you?”

  Chapter 32

  DI White pulled into Ashgate road and slipped into a space behind a silver Hyundai a couple of years old. “Aye aye.” He nodded to the car. “Put a trace on that, would
you, Peters? My guess would be we’ve found our elusive Mr. Fenstone.”

  Peters tapped the information into the car’s workstation. Within seconds the registered owner came up. “John Fenstone, fifteen Ashgate Road. Tax and insurance valid but not showing as deceased yet.” He looked out of the window at the house. “So my guess would be our friend doesn’t have any insurance of his own.” He tapped another request into the terminal. “He does have a driver’s license, mind.”

  “He needed one with all the car theft he was into.”

  Meinwen leaned forward. “He’s not doing that any more. He’s going straight.”

  White and Peters glanced at each other. “I’m sure he is, love.”

  “I saw that significant look you just gave each other.” Meinwen went to open her door. “You don’t believe he means it.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he means it but with all due respect, Ms. Jones, we hear that from every ex-con from Wandsworth to Timbuktu.” He caught her line of sight in the mirror. “And the safety locks are on.”

  He got out of the car and opened the rear door for her. “Tell you what, lets go and ask him, shall we?” He mimed shaking hands. “Hello, Mr. Fenstone. You’re the primary suspect in a murder case but you couldn’t have done it because Miss Jones here says you told her you were going straight from now on. Is that right?”

  “Yes, yes. I get the point.”

  “I hope so, Ms. Jones. I really hope so.” He looked at the house. “Front or back do you reckon?”

  “It’s one of those neighborhoods, sir. The front’s for funerals and the police. Best go round the back.”

  “You stay here then, sergeant, ’cause there’s nothing so good as a door you never use as an exit. Ms. Jones and I will have a knock at the other door.”

  “Right you are, guv.”

  “And don’t call me ‘guv’. We’re not in the east end now.”

  “No, sir. Sorry.” Peters winked at Meinwen and she had to stifle a giggle before it hurt her broken ribs. He took position on one side of the door and withdrew his phone. He moved about as if he was looking for a signal rather than keeping guard at the front of a house.

  White led Meinwen up the weed-encrusted path to the other door and banged on it with an open palm. He waited a few seconds before trying again.

  “All right. Don’t break the door down. I’m coming.” Jimmy opened the door, wiping his hands on a blue cloth. The scent of paint and white spirits drifted out. “Ah! Meinwen and a policeman. You did warn me you’d call them, I suppose. I’ll take you at your word next time.” He frowned at the plasters on her face and hand. What happened to you?”

  “She was mugged outside your other house, Mr. Fenstone.” White pushed past him into the kitchen. “Mind if we come in?”

  “As a matter of fact...” Jimmy shook his head. “No, of course. Feel free to look around.”

  “Doing a spot of decorating, are we?”

  “Well, I am. I don’t know about you–”

  “Detective-inspector White.”

  “A detective-inspector? I am honored.” Jimmy turned to put the kettle on. “You’ll be wanting tea, I expect. Got to live up to the tropes, haven’t we?”

  “Talking of which, where were you the night before last? Milk and two for me. Nothing for my sergeant.”

  “Your sergeant?” Jimmy looked up as Peters appeared in the doorway. “Ah. Covering the front in case I made a run for it?”

  “You can’t be too careful, sir.”

  “You can’t, no. Bloody criminals, eh? They don’t understand they’re supposed to stand still and say ‘It’s a fair cop, guv’.”

  Peters grinned at Meinwen, who looked away.

  “Said something funny, did I?”

  “An echo of a conversation, sir. Sorry.” Peters came inside the kitchen. “Been doing a spot of decorating?”

  “I can see why they made you a sergeant. Yes. Just splashing magnolia on the walls. I’ll be putting it on the market as soon as the disbursement comes.”

  “The night before last?” White opened the flaps of a cardboard box and looked inside. “If you don’t mind.”

  “I’m sure Meinwen’s already told you. I went to The Larches to see Richard Godwin.”

  “Did you indeed?” White raised his eyebrows as he glanced across at her. “She didn’t mention it, as a matter of fact.”

  Meinwen grimaced. Had she just traded the inspector’s good will for her loyalty to Jimmy?

  “Oh.” Jimmy paused for a moment, then crossed to the sink to rinse out three mugs. “I didn’t get to speak to him, actually. A woman in a maid’s uniform told me he wasn’t at home. I thought at the time it was a euphemism for he just didn’t want to see me but I found out later it was the truth.” He used a ragged tea towel to dry the mugs and set them in front of the kettle. Real tea? Or I have some raspberry and ginseng if you prefer?”

  “Just ordinary for me, thank you.” White leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “How did you discover it was the truth?”

  “What? That he was out? I saw him in the cemetery.”

  “Oh yes? You knew him then?”

  “No, never met him in my life but I recognized him from a picture on my brother’s computer.”

  “They were friends I understand?” White managed to convey the required innuendo into the word.

  “Lovers, yes. I was a bit surprised, to be honest.” Jimmy dropped tea bags into the cups and poured boiling water over them. “I never realized John was gay until Meinwen spelled it out for me.” He smiled at her. “I’m fine with it, though. I saw enough of it in the nick not to be squeamish about willies and arseholes.” He mashed the teabags with a spoon and drew them out.

  “What was Mr. Godwin doing in the cemetery? Did you speak to him?”

  “No. He was talking to some chap. They were smoking and laughing about something. I didn’t feel right about interrupting.”

  “You’d walked all that way and didn’t like to interrupt? I find that a bit hard to believe.”

  Jimmy put down the teaspoon and turned around. “Look at this.” He pulled the hem of his sports shirt free of his waistband and lifted it to reveal a scar that curved up from his hipbone and ended just short of his nipple. “I got that the third month I was inside because I interrupted two men talking.”

  Meinwen winced. She’d noticed the scar but hadn’t liked to ask about it.

  Jimmy continued. “It’s a lesson I never forgot, all right?”

  “Yes. Sorry.” White looked at Peters, who shrugged. “So you saw Richard Godwin in the cemetery with another man. Could you describe the second man?”

  “Tall, well muscled, salt-and-pepper hair.” Jimmy frowned. “Forties, at a guess. Clean-shaven, jeans and jacket. The waterproof kind that walkers wear.” He shrugged. “That’s the best I can do. I didn’t get too close.” He poured milk into two of the cups, added sugar to one and passed to the inspector. The second cup he gave to Meinwen.” I didn’t kill Richard Godwin. He was perfectly fine when I left the cemetery.”

  Meinwen bit at her lip. She didn’t think Jimmy was making it up but his description would match half the men in Laverstone. He might be stupid but he wasn’t an idiot.

  “Did you see anyone else? Either in the cemetery or later?”

  “I stopped off at the White Hart for a beer and picked up a packet of chips from the shop around the corner. I ate them here and them went back to the flat in Chervil Close just after midnight.”

  “That should be easy enough to verify. Thank you.”

  “You’re not going to arrest me then?”

  “Not just at the moment, no, though I will ask you not to leave the environs of Laverstone for the next week or two.”

  “Sure.” Jimmy picked up his tea like a crane from a penny arcade and sipped from the gap between thumb and forefinger.

  “It’s the White Art now.” Peters was still leaning against the door frame.

  “What?”

  “You called it
the White Hart. It hasn’t been the White Hart for twenty years or more, not since the H dropped off and they decided they liked the new name better.”

  “Right yeah. The White Art. I’d forgotten. Grew up here, see. It always had the aitch when we were kids.”

  “I see. That must be it, then.” Peters nodded.

  Jimmy turned to Meinwen. “Why didn’t you phone me? I’d have come and looked after you. Did you see who did it?”

  “The mugger took my phone, didn’t he? I could hardly call you without it.”

  “You could have used a payphone. Or borrowed someone’s?”

  “And do what? Was I supposed to remember your number? It was on my phone. Which was stolen.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry. You’re okay though?”

  “I’ll survive, thanks.”

  Sergeant Peters’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at it and held it up. “Sorry. I’ll take it outside.” White nodded and he opened the door. They could just hear him say “Hello?” as he closed it behind him.

  “Is there anything I can do? Where did it happen?”

  “Right outside your flat. I honestly think I’d be dead if one of the dealers hadn’t turned up to drive the mugger off.”

  The door opened again and Peters returned, still holding the phone. “It’s the station, sir.”

  White held out his hand but Peters shook his head. “No, sir. They want to speak to Ms. Jones. Apparently they’ve got a patch request from Dafydd Thomas. Very urgent he gets in touch with her, he says.”

  “Then you’d best give it her.” White waved a hand in her direction. “Honestly, if we could get her to work for us I think we could all retire.”

  “For me?” Meinwen took the phone and held it gingerly to her ear. “Dafydd? What’s going on?”

  “Meinwen? You’ll never believe who I’ve just had at the house.” He sounded breathless and excited.

  “Who?”

  “Your Catherine Godwin. Well tasty she is.”

  “What did she want?”

  “To see you, obviously. That’s not why I’m ringing though. Guess who she had with her?”