Close Her Eyes

by Dorothy Simpson

  Lineham glanced at Thanet, relinquishing the questioning.

  Thanet allowed a long pause, leaning back in an almost leisurely manner and giving Mathews a long, assessing stare. ‘You must see, Mr Mathews, that all this uncertainty about your movements does leave you in a most unfortunate position. I’m surprised that in the circumstances you haven’t taken the trouble to retrace your steps and discover exactly which pub you did go into.’

  ‘But why should he!’ Eileen Chase could keep silent no longer. ‘It never entered our heads that my fiancé would have to answer all these … ridiculous questions, just because of a chance meeting on a train!’

  ‘Miss Chase, your loyalty does you credit. But it shouldn’t blind you to the facts. And those are that on Monday evening Charity Pritchard travelled down from London with Mr Mathews, was seen leaving the station with him and shortly afterwards was murdered. No, wait a minute,’ he went on as she opened her mouth to protest. ‘You really must see that in the circumstances it is no more than our duty to question Mr Mathews closely, especially as he is so vague as to his movements. But there is one way in which you might be able to help him.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Do you happen to have a photograph of him?’

  As he had guessed, she had one in her wallet. It was a good likeness, too.

  ‘Thank you. We’ll get someone to check the pubs and see if we can find someone who can corroborate his story.’

  ‘Inspector,’ said Mathews, ‘can I ask you something?’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘It’s obvious, from all these questions, that Charity was killed some time after she left the station that evening. Do you know exactly when?’

  Thanet didn’t see why he shouldn’t tell him. ‘Not to the minute. But some time between 9.35 and 10.40.’

  ‘I see.’ Mathews’ response was carefully neutral, but underneath there was suppressed excitement. ‘And how was the earlier of the two times fixed?’

  So that was it. ‘As you have guessed, because that was the time at which she was last seen alive.’

  ‘But in that case, I’m in the clear, surely! If she was seen alive after we parted?’

  ‘I’m afraid we won’t be able to accept that unless we can find someone who can verify that you were elsewhere between 9.35 and 10.’

  ‘This is absolutely monstrous!’ said Eileen Chase. Her pale skin was stained with pink and her prominent eyes bulged with anger. ‘To suggest that Leslie could have … He’s the kindest, most gentle person imaginable.’ She cast him a glance of pure adoration. ‘He’d never do such a thing, never.’

  ‘Maybe not, in normal circumstances. But murder never is committed in normal circumstances, not by ordinary people, anyway. They are driven to it by a compulsion outside their everyday experience. Oh yes, someone had a powerful reason for wishing Charity dead, Miss Chase, and believe me, I am going to find out what that reason was. And when I do …’ Thanet rose, and his tone suddenly became casually conversational, ‘well, when I do, I shall have found the murderer, shan’t I? Good day.’

  Mathews and Eileen Chase sat as if turned to stone as the two detectives walked away across the park.

  17

  Thanet flexed his spine and massaged the dull, nagging ache in the small of his back. Whenever he was tired or under stress it seemed to become worse, an unwelcome distraction when he was least equipped to cope with it.

  It was a quarter past six and he was alone in the office. He had dispatched Carson to check Mathews’ alibi at all the pubs between the railway station and Eileen Chase’s house, and had then insisted that Lineham go and visit Louise.

  ‘You can’t miss two nights in a row.’

  ‘But what about all those?’ Lineham had gestured at the piles of unread reports on Thanet’s desk.

  ‘They won’t run away. Go on, hurry up, or you’ll be late. I could do with a breathing space anyway.’

  Which was true. Thanet felt as though his brain were so clogged with information that it had almost ceased to function. What he really needed now was to go home and have Joan thrust a drink into his hand and insist he relax for a while before supper. He closed his eyes, visualising her smile, the touch of her hand on his arm, the luxury of sinking into an armchair and knowing that she was there, moving about in the next room. How little we appreciate these simple pleasures while we have them, he thought. His longing for her presence was almost a physical pain, an ache deep inside him. Just to hear her voice again …

  He opened his eyes, stared at the telephone. Why not? It might be a good time to catch her. He found that, without making a conscious decision, he was dialling.

  ‘Could I speak to Mrs Thanet, please?’

  He braced himself for the familiar, ‘I’m afraid she’s out,’ but it didn’t come.

  ‘Just a moment, I’ll see if she’s in.’

  The seconds ticked away and Thanet found that he was holding his breath, hope ebbing with every moment that passed. She wasn’t back yet, had already gone out, was spending the evening with a friend … Fiercely he repudiated the threatening fantasy of a friend who was not only male but physically attractive, intelligent, sympathetic, enlightened …

  ‘Hullo?’

  Joan’s voice, as familiar to him in its every inflexion as his own face in the mirror.

  ‘Got you at last!’ As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he could have kicked himself. His attempt at lightheartedness sounded merely reproachful.

  ‘Luke!’ If Joan had noticed, she chose to ignore it. ‘Darling, how lovely to hear you! We always seem to be missing each other, these days. How are you? How are the children? How’s the case going?’

  ‘Fine, fine and not so fine, in that order. What about you?’

  ‘Exhausted! You remember the remand home where I did my last placement? Well, they’ve had an epidemic of mumps there, and as two of the staff had gone down with it—it’s an especially virulent strain, apparently—Geoffrey and I have been going back in the evenings to help out.’

  Geoffrey Benson was also on the training course. Thanet had never met him.

  ‘I see.’ Thanet tried to ignore the red light flashing in his brain. ‘Sounds as though you’ve been having a hectic time. I should think we’ll all seem as dull as ditchwater when you get back home.’

  Joan must have picked up the underlying anxiety beneath his attempt to tease her, for her reply was vehement.

  ‘Nonsense, darling. I can’t tell you how I’m longing to be home again, start leading a normal life again.’

  Had she meant it? To Thanet her tone was strained, as if she were trying to convince herself as well as him.

  Thanet gave her the latest news of Louise and then she said, ‘But tell me how the case is going. Properly.’

  ‘It’s going, and that’s about all I can say at the moment. At least I’m not completely stuck yet.’

  ‘Anyone definite in mind?’

  ‘Not really. We could take our pick from about half a dozen possibilities.’

  ‘Sounds complicated.’

  ‘It is, a bit. Joan … I do miss you.’

  ‘And I miss you too, darling.’

  ‘But …’ How to describe the immensity of his need, this hunger for her mere presence? Over the years I’ve got out of the habit of expressing such feelings, he thought desperately, and the words just won’t come easily any more.

  ‘Anyway, it won’t be long, now, will it, Luke? Only another couple of weeks … I suppose your back’s playing up?’

  How well she knew him. ‘A little.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  The question surprised him. ‘In the office. Why?’

  ‘Anyone else there?’

  ‘Not at the moment.’

  ‘In that case, why don’t you lie down on the floor for a little while, do your exercises, relax.’

  ‘Here? What if someone came in?’

  ‘Couldn’t you say you didn’t want to be disturbed for a bit? There’d be noth
ing unusual in that, surely?’

  ‘I could, I suppose …’

  ‘Then do it. You’d feel miles better, afterwards. Promise?’

  ‘Well …’

  ‘Luke!’

  ‘Oh, all right. I suppose it might be a good idea.’

  ‘Of course it would. Look, sorry darling, but I’m afraid I must go now. I’ve got to get back to the Home. I was just leaving when you caught me.’

  ‘Well I’m glad I did.’

  ‘So’m I.’ She blew him a kiss down the line. ‘’Bye, darling. I love you.’

  ‘I love you, too.’

  The line went dead and Thanet replaced the reciever, sat staring at it for a full minute before pressing the buzzer on his desk.

  ‘I don’t want to be disturbed for half an hour.’

  ‘Right, sir.’

  ‘Not for any reason, is that clear?’

  Allowing himself the luxury of a slight groan, Thanet stood up, rubbing his back, then carefully lowered himself to the floor. The carpet, though thin, was at least clean. The pain flowered as taut muscles met the hard, unyielding surface, then began to ebb as the tension started to seep away.

  Thanet worked conscientiously through the exercises which his physiotherapist had given him, then began the relaxation routine: tighten leg muscles … relax. Arm muscles … relax. Shoulder … neck … jaw … He began to breathe deeply and regularly. In … out. In … out. Veronica … Mrs Chase. Jethro … his wife. Mathews … Eileen Chase.

  Which of the six could it be?

  He was pretty certain that Veronica was out of the running. She was too passive, too self-pitying, a victim rather than an assailant. He couldn’t see her being sufficiently devious to plan a murder in cold blood, nor sufficiently aggressive to strike out in anger with the degree of force that had hurled Charity against that unfortunately-placed piece of jagged metal. And so far there hadn’t been so much as a whisper of anyone seeing her outside the house that night.

  Memo: check through the files again, to be sure on that point.

  Mrs Hodges, now, was a different matter. Not by nature an aggressive woman, she would certainly be capable of extremes of behaviour in defence of her one ewe lamb, Thanet was sure. Yes, she should definitely be considered a suspect—it was quite possible, as Lineham had suggested, that she had followed Charity and killed her before returning to the house and greeting Thanet and Lineham as though nothing had happened. After all, there was only her word for it that Charity had still been alive at that point. The house to house reports covering that earlier period should be on his desk by now. Thanet resisted the urge to get up at once and check through them. He needed a little more time, first, to order his thoughts properly.

  Then there was Mathews. Now here was another promising suspect. His motive was powerful. If, as Thanet suspected, he had indeed had a sexual relationship with Charity, then his whole career would have been at stake. No one was going to employ a teacher who had not only seduced a pupil—and an under-age one, at that—but had driven her to seek an abortion without her parents’ knowledge or consent. If any of this had ever come out, Mathews would have been finished and so long as Charity was alive the threat of exposure would remain.

  Then there was the possibility that Charity had threatened to tell Mathews’ fiancée about the baby, and that he had killed her to prevent her doing so. Eileen Chase clearly adored Mathews and Thanet thought that she would probably be willing to forgive him anything, so long as she could keep him. But, would he have known that?

  Thanet thought back over the afternoon’s interviews and tried to work out exactly what had been going on between the engaged couple. Mrs Chase had said that all over the weekend Eileen had gone around ‘looking as though the world had come to an end’. And Mathews had gone away on a walking trip because ‘it does you good to get away from civilisation’. Everything pointed to a quarrel before the weekend, a reconciliation afterwards.

  A quarrel about Charity?

  Say that it had been about her. Say that Mathews had decided to confess to Eileen—or say that Eileen had found out about the relationship and had decided to confront Mathews with it … No, the latter was unlikely, Thanet decided. If Eileen had found out, then it would have been more in character for her to say nothing for fear of rocking the boat, and hope that the affair would die a natural death.

  So, say that Mathews had decided to confess, and had told Eileen that he felt he was no longer worthy of her and that their engagement was off. She would have protested, Thanet was sure, but the outcome had nevertheless been that Mathews had gone away alone for the weekend. In his chosen solitude he had obviously thought things over and decided that he really didn’t want to lose Eileen, and that if she was prepared to forgive him he would be a fool not to bow to her generosity. When he got back he would go at once to see her and ask her to take him back.

  Then, on the train, he had met Charity, had found himself in the position of having to travel down with her.

  This was where the scenario became blurred. After leaving the station Mathews could have left the girl and headed straight for Eileen’s house, as he claimed, stopping to boost his courage with a couple of drinks on the way.

  Or he could have followed Charity and killed her.

  Thanet couldn’t really see Mathews setting out to murder in cold blood, but say that he had been provoked into it? Say that Charity, still in a precarious emotional state after the thoroughly unpleasant experience of having had to seek and undergo an abortion without any moral support whatsoever, had told Mathews that she intended to expose him to the Education Authorities? He would have argued, begged, pleaded and, if he had not succeeded in persuading her to change her mind by the time they left the station, could have walked home with her to continue the argument. Would he have risked being seen with her in public? Only if he was desperate, Thanet decided. Which he might have been. There was no word of their having been seen together in Sturrenden that evening after they left the station, but that didn’t necessarily mean that they hadn’t been …

  ‘Sir?’

  Someone was shaking him by the arm.

  ‘Sir! Are you all right?’

  Lineham’s concerned face hovered over him.

  ‘Of course I am, man.’ Thanet was furious at being discovered stretched out on the floor. Careful, even in his haste, not to undo the good work, he rolled over on to his side and climbed cautiously to his feet. ‘I’m still breathing, aren’t I? Anyway, I thought I gave orders not to be disturbed for half an hour.’

  ‘That was at six twenty-five. And it’s a quarter past seven now. When I saw you on the floor I thought …’

  He must have fallen asleep. ‘Never mind what you thought,’ snapped Thanet. ‘You were wrong, weren’t you. I was simply … meditating. Complete relaxation is highly conducive to meditation.’

  ‘I must remember that, sir. Shall I put a directive up on the noticeboard?’

  Thanet opened his mouth to make a sharp retort, caught Lineham’s eye and grinned. ‘All right, Mike, so you caught me out.’

  ‘Back, sir?’

  Thanet didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry, that his sergeant had so immediately understood.

  ‘You’re not my nursemaid, Mike, and don’t you forget it. How’s Louise?’

  Lineham’s face sagged. ‘Still putting up a good front. We’re both so bloody cheerful …’

  ‘Did you have a word with the Sister?’

  ‘They think it might be tomorrow—the induction, I mean. They haven’t told Louise yet, thought it might send her blood pressure up even further.’

  ‘It hasn’t come down at all, then?’

  Lineham shook his head gloomily. ‘Slightly higher, in fact.’

  ‘Look, are you quite sure you wouldn’t prefer to be off the case at the moment? I could easily …’

  ‘No! Thank you, sir, but no.’

  ‘All right. But if you change your mind.…’

  ‘Thanks. Have you … er … h
ad time to go through any of those, yet?’

  ‘No need to be so tactful. No, I haven’t. I told you, I was thinking.’

  ‘Come to any conclusions?’

  ‘Not really.’ Thanet briefly outlined the thoughts he had had before dropping off to sleep. ‘That’s as far as I got.’

  ‘What about Eileen Chase? If she’d had the whole weekend to brood over Mathews chucking her because of Charity, she could have decided to have it out with the girl herself.’

  ‘Slipped out of the house without her mother knowing, you mean? Yes, I’d thought of that.’

  ‘Mrs Chase might well have been watching television and thought Eileen was still up in her room, moping.’

  ‘But how would Eileen have known how to find Charity?’

  Lineham shrugged. ‘No idea. But it’s still possible, isn’t it! I should think she’d be prepared to go to almost any lengths to keep him.’

  ‘Then there’s Jethro … No, I’ve had enough of speculating for the moment. Let’s get down to these reports.’

  They divided the pile between them and Thanet lit his pipe before settling down. He felt much refreshed by his brief dereliction of duty. Therefore it hadn’t been dereliction at all, he decided.

  He began with the forensic report. He had glanced through it before, but now he checked it more thoroughly. His first impression had been correct: there was nothing of any significance in the findings. Just as well, perhaps. If there had been, and Charity’s father had blurred the issue by that untimely but understandable intervention, Thanet and Lineham would have been in serious trouble for not having managed to stop him. But the fact that there was no evidence of a preliminary struggle did support the theory of a blow struck in anger—and therefore an unpremeditated crime.

  Thanet relit his pipe, which had gone out, and started on the Lantern Street reports.

  There was nothing. No one, at any time during that evening, had seen either Veronica or Mrs Hodges outside the house. This did not of course necessarily mean that neither of them had been out—for one thing, so many of the Lantern Street houses were unoccupied that it might be quite easy to miss being seen—but it did mean that there was absolutely no evidence as yet to support Lineham’s theory.