Faith

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Faith Page 39

by Lesley Pearse


  Stuart nodded. That was exactly the impression he’d formed too from Laura, and it was good to hear the same from a man who had no reason to want to defend her.

  ‘Did Jackie tell you about Laura’s life, or did you only find out during the trial?’

  ‘A bit of both,’ Ted said. ‘Jackie was a loyal friend, she wasn’t one for dishing dirt. But in the two years prior to Barney’s death she had confided in me about the pornography and the drugs. She didn’t want to, but I asked a great many questions about why she had Barney there so often, and why she often seemed so worried sometimes. She had to talk to someone. And once our affair began we hoped that one day we could be together for ever.’

  ‘Why then didn’t she call you on the day she died?’ Stuart asked.

  ‘That is a question I’ve asked myself a million times,’ Ted said with a sigh. ‘I’ve also asked myself just as many times why I didn’t sense something bad was happening to her and go over there. I didn’t hear about it till the evening when it was on the news. They only said that a woman had been killed in an isolated house near Crail, nothing much else, but even before they showed a picture of the house I kind of knew it was Jackie. But to go back to your question about why she didn’t phone me – she never phoned me at home. She knew the number, I always said she must keep it by her in case of an emergency, but she never used it. I usually phoned her from a public box because Peggie has ears like radar.’

  ‘I take it Peggie was your reason for not going to the police too?’ Stuart said with a touch of sarcasm.

  Ted blushed. ‘Yes, she was,’ he said, hanging his head. ‘But not the way you are thinking. Let me explain how it was at the time.’

  12 May was a beautiful day. Ted had been working out in the garden all afternoon. Peggie was indoors sitting by the patio doors doing a jigsaw on a large tray across her wheelchair.

  Around five it became chilly, and he went in to prepare the evening meal. He put his head round the sitting-room door to ask Peggie if she’d like a cup of tea, and how she was getting on with the jigsaw. She ignored both questions so he went back into the kitchen.

  Once the meal was ready and the table laid in the dining part of the kitchen, he turned on the television there, and went back into the sitting room to get Peggie.

  ‘Turn the sound up,’ she snapped at him as he wheeled her up to the table.

  It was one of those moments that he had had so often in the last few years, when he fervently wished the riding accident had killed her. She hadn’t been the easiest of women to live with even before that. She was domineering, insensitive and self-centred and if she didn’t get her way she sulked for days on end. But she had been an asset to him in his business, the perfect hostess, a great cook, and it was she who was responsible for bringing so many clients to his firm of surveyors. She’d been a good mother too; both Robert and Joan had done very well at school and gone on to university. It was only when they left home for good, moving down to London to better-paid work than they could get in Scotland, that Ted realized he and Peggie had nothing left in common. She lived for riding, while he liked reading, painting and gardening.

  The accident changed everything. Peggie had always cared about her appearance; she was an attractive, slender woman with long brown hair, and she wore her clothes with style. But once she knew she would never walk again she lost all interest in the way she looked. She resented that Ted had sold their beautiful old house in South Street, right in the centre of St Andrews, even though it was obvious she could never live there, and she said she hated the bungalow.

  Robert and Joan had nothing but praise for it. They remarked on how the sun came in all day and they thought the view of the golf course beyond the garden was wonderful, for the old house had only had a small garden and no view at all.

  But all Peggie did was complain. Ted understood her frustration at not being able to walk, but she didn’t even try to do things for herself. There was a constant whinge of ‘That must be done’, or ‘How many more times must I point out you haven’t done so and so yet?’ When he had to go out to do a survey, she was on to him the moment he got back. If he went into his study to write a report, she interrupted him. There was no reason why she couldn’t make a cup of tea herself, iron a few clothes sitting down, or even cook simple meals, for everything in the kitchen had been designed for a person in a wheelchair, but she refused point-blank, as if she were totally incapacitated.

  Her weight had ballooned up to fourteen stone since returning home from hospital, and most days she didn’t even bother to brush her hair. She would stay in her nightdress if Ted didn’t insist he helped her dress. None of the carers he took on to help lasted long, for she was as nasty to them as she was to him. Even Robert’s and Joan’s visits home were getting less frequent. Peggie did always improve when they were there, but she morally blackmailed them, making them feel guilty they lived and worked so far away.

  Ted turned up the sound on the television just as the local news began.

  ‘A woman was found dead this afternoon in a house near Crail in Fife,’ the pretty blonde newscaster said, and even before a shot of Brodie Farm came on the screen, he knew it was Jackie and it was all he could do not to scream out his shock and pain.

  He supposed there must have been some more information about Jackie and that the police had arrested someone because he remembered Peggie questioning him.

  ‘Isn’t that the woman you’ve surveyed properties for?’ she asked. ‘I always thought there was something fishy about a Londoner wanting to come and live there. And she was the woman driving the car when a boy was killed! She had it coming to her. I bet she made her money from drugs.’

  ‘Shut your mouth, you stupid cow, you know nothing about her!’ Ted yelled at her, then jumping up from the table he ran into the bathroom where he was violently sick.

  Over the next couple of days, as he waited for the whole story of what had happened to filter down to him, he was so distraught that he contemplated taking his car out into a remote place and killing himself with the exhaust fumes. He didn’t care what would become of Peggie, he didn’t even care if the whole world found out about his affair with Jackie. If he couldn’t have her in his life, he didn’t want to live.

  But reason prevailed. He knew Robert and Joan would never understand his committing suicide and leaving their mother alone. Whilst he thought he ought to go to the police and tell them about his relationship with Jackie just in case he could help them in any way with their investigation, if Peggie found out she’d be impossible.

  He had only managed to stay and care for her all these years because of the few hours of happiness he had with Jackie each week. Griefstricken and without that respite, he knew he couldn’t cope with Peggie raging and ranting at him all day about Jackie on top of everything else. And that was what she would do, for if she saw a chink in anyone’s armour, she liked nothing better than sliding the knife in. Ted knew he might snap and attack her, and he couldn’t put himself in that position.

  From what he heard at the time it was an open and shut case that Laura had killed her anyway. He had never met Laura and all he could tell the police about her relationship with Jackie was hearsay. Belle and Charles knew everything about her, so he would leave it to them to pass it on.

  ‘So that’s why,’ Ted said with a shrug, when he’d finished saying his piece. ‘I dare say that makes me look cowardly, but at the time I felt it was the best course for everyone. I suppose too that I was so blinded by my own grief that it never occurred to me Laura might be innocent.’

  ‘You must have followed the trial very closely?’

  ‘Yes, I read all the accounts in the papers and watched the news.’

  ‘Did anyone ever say anything you knew to be untrue?’

  ‘Yes, it was brought up, I think by Roger, Jackie’s husband, that Laura owed Jackie a lot of money. I know for a fact that wasn’t true. Jackie gave Laura the start-up money for the shop. It was a gift.’

  ‘
Really?’ Stuart exclaimed. ‘Are you absolutely sure of that?’

  ‘Totally. I was with Jackie the night she wrote the cheque. I actually posted the letter to Laura on my way home. She told me that she’d gone with Laura to see the shop in Morningside, and that over lunch the pair of them had costed out what she would need – the lease money, legal fees, rails, decorations and some advertisements to attract women to bring their clothes in. Laura was intending to go to the bank for a loan, but Jackie was afraid they would make the repayments larger than that kind of business could stand. Her exact words were ‘Bugger it, I’m going to give it to her. After all she’s been through she deserves it.’

  ‘You’re sure she didn’t ask for it back later?’

  ‘Did you ever know Jackie to go back on a deal?’

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ Stuart smiled. ‘But tell me, Ted, how did you feel about Laura claiming Jackie had several lovers and drank too much?’

  Ted didn’t answer for a while; he just sat there looking down at his hands. ‘I was hurt,’ he said eventually. ‘But I couldn’t blame her for it as she was speaking the truth, Stuart! I might have been the man she loved, but there were other casual flings from time to time, and yes, she drank a lot too. But I blame myself for that, you see Peggie was becoming ever more demanding, I couldn’t be with Jackie much and she was lonely. I think she began to stop believing that one day I’d be free to be with her.’

  ‘Do you know any of these men?’

  ‘There were two local ones, I don’t know them, only what I’ve heard about them. The others were just fly-by-nights, men who came as guests and then left.’

  ‘And the local ones?’ Stuart felt as if he was torturing the man, and wished he didn’t have to.

  ‘Both married with children. They weren’t affairs as such, just brief interludes. I can’t give you their names, Jackie never told me. I don’t believe they could be suspects. Jackie would never have made trouble for them, she admitted to me it was just sex.’

  ‘You are a remarkably honest man,’ Stuart said admiringly. ‘So what made you agree to talk to me today?’

  ‘Gloria always knew about Jackie and me. She knew Laura too and didn’t ever believe she was guilty. She also felt guilty that she didn’t go to the police and tell them what she knew. That was mainly out of loyalty to me because we’ve been friends for many years. But she knew who the other local men friends were as well, and if that got out she knew she’d be in trouble around here.’ Ted paused for a few moments, frowning as if a thought was troubling him.

  ‘Poor Gloria,’ he said after a bit. ‘She was in a worse position than me, she had her children’s welfare and her livelihood to think of. It preyed on her mind and we often used to talk about it over a drink. But it was when you turned up and spoke to her in the pub that everything got shook up. I knew who you were the minute she said your name. I remembered everything Jackie told me about you too! It struck me that if you could believe in Laura’s innocence after she’d hurt you so badly, then maybe I should have an open mind about it too. I suppose I also thought it was time that I became a real man, pinned my colours to the mast and admitted I loved Jackie!’

  Stuart stayed silent for a little while. He felt somewhat aggrieved that if Ted and Gloria had been brave enough to go to the police at the time of the murder and tell them what they knew, the investigation into Jackie’s murder might have been more thorough. But they had come forward now, and that took some courage.

  ‘Would you be brave enough to give evidence if Laura does get an appeal?’ Stuart asked tentatively.

  ‘What could I say that would help her?’

  ‘Well, there’s those letters Laura wrote while she was in Italy that you told me about. The original jury was swayed into believing Laura’s motive for killing Jackie was revenge for Barney’s death, and the letters could disprove that. You could also make a statement about the money for the shop being a gift.’

  ‘There is something else that never came to light in the trial.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Jackie was going to make a gift of Brodie Farm to Laura. I know because she had the document drawn up and I witnessed it.’

  14

  Stuart’s mind was racing as he drove back to Edinburgh that evening. Ted was adamant that he witnessed Jackie’s signature on a deed of gift, and that it was only about a month before her death.

  He explained that for over a year before that, he and Jackie had been talking about him leaving Peggie and their setting up home together. They knew they couldn’t possibly stay at Brodie Farm because they would be a target for malicious gossip, so they intended to move to the Borders or the Highlands.

  Jackie hadn’t liked the idea of selling Brodie Farm to a stranger who would never love it like she did, or appreciate all the hard work she’d put into it. She wanted to give it to Laura because she would, and she was still young and energetic enough to make a real go of it. Ted added that he also thought Jackie was concerned about Barney’s grave being neglected once she was gone. Laura had always tended it when she came over to Fife, but it was a long way to come, and without Jackie there as a further incentive, she might lapse.

  Stuart wasn’t actually surprised that Jackie would be so astoundingly generous. He could remember her scoffing at Roger once when he was bullying her to make a will.

  ‘What pleasure is there in giving something away if you aren’t around to see the effect it has?’ she said to him. ‘I shall either spend every penny I’ve got, or give everything away to the people I love well before I snuff it. I want to see their gratitude and have them kissing my feet.’

  Of course, not many people could afford to give away a valuable property like Brodie Farm, especially when they were only in their late forties and might well fall on hard times later. But Jackie could. Her other properties in London and the cottages in Cellardyke had to be worth in excess of a million and a half and she had a good income from them too.

  Ted said Jackie didn’t mention the deed of gift again after he’d witnessed it. He didn’t know whether that meant she’d sent it on to her solicitor, changed her mind, or just shelved the idea until she and Ted were ready to up sticks and go off to the Highlands.

  Stuart didn’t think it was likely that Jackie had gone through with it. Knowing her as he did, the moment all the legal stuff was done she would have tied up the deeds with flamboyant ribbon and presented them to Laura herself. But he could get a solicitor to check with the Land Registry to see if she had.

  Yet he couldn’t see her thinking better of her plan. He never knew her do that about anything.

  His guess was that she had just shelved it until she was ready to leave. She had a soft heart, and however much she wanted and intended to run off with Ted, she was probably very anxious about how his dependent, disabled wife would cope without him, and estranging Ted from his son and daughter. Stuart didn’t think she’d start packing up until she knew all the arrangements for his wife’s care were in place and he’d explained things to his children.

  The question was, did she tell anyone other than Ted about this intended gift? And what happened to the signed and witnessed document if she didn’t send it off to a solicitor?

  When Stuart got home to the second-floor flat he’d rented, he smiled at the sight of David asleep on the settee in front of the television. At the time Stuart had taken the two-bedroom flat he was pleased by the starkness of it as he thought it would be easy to keep it tidy. Magnolia walls, beige carpet, the kind of cheap furniture which looked good in shop windows but could never be comfortable and would be worn out within two years.

  But he and David hadn’t made any effort to tidy up after themselves; shirts were hung over chairs, the table littered with books, maps and notes they’d been making. There had to be a week’s supply of newspapers on the floor, and their bedrooms and the kitchen were even more untidy. But it was home for now, and Stuart was glad to be back here with his friend.

  ‘Wake up, you lazy b
astard,’ he said, giving David a thump on the chest.

  David rubbed his eyes. ‘What is there to wake up for?’ he said with a yawn.

  ‘News,’ Stuart said, and perching on the edge of the settee recounted everything he’d been told by Ted.

  David’s eyes were like saucers. ‘Why didn’t her solicitor come forward with this information? It proves there was no animosity between the two women,’ he said. ‘Even if Jackie eventually decided against it, ripped it up or chucked it on the fire, and so it never got legally registered with the Land Registry, her solicitor would have done all the searches and suchlike before he drew up the document. Did Ted tell you who acted for her?’

  ‘He didn’t know, but he said he thought it was someone in Edinburgh. Goldsmith could find out, I expect. We’ll have to see him tomorrow – with this and Ted’s other input I think we’re nearly there with grounds for an appeal.’

  ‘I’ve got a bit of interesting news too,’ David said, getting up and stretching. ‘The Langdons, the couple who stayed at Kirkmay House the night before the murder, didn’t leave Crail first thing in the morning. It was about one.’

  ‘So did they see what Charles was up to?’

  ‘They didn’t see him in the morning, only heard him talking to Belle while they were having breakfast. They left the house about nine-thirty, leaving their car in the drive because they wanted to walk along the coastal path to Anstruther. They left their car keys on the hall table in case Belle needed to move it. When they got back to collect the car, Belle seemed very distracted, so they took the keys and drove off. They were in Carlisle that evening when they heard a woman had been killed in Crail that morning, but they had no idea that it was Belle’s sister until months later when they read about the trial in the papers.’

 

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