Kennedy 04 - The Broken Circle

by Shirley Wells

  ‘We were talking about Bradley Johnson before you arrived,’ Gordon said, changing the subject. ‘What a dreadful thing to happen.’

  ‘You were talking about him,’ Hannah corrected him.

  Jill thought it wise to ignore that.

  ‘It’s awful, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘I didn’t know him well, but I always liked Phoebe. It’s just dreadful. A terrible shock for her.’

  ‘Yes.’ Hannah’s voice was clipped.

  ‘You must have known him well, Hannah,’ Jill went on. ‘He was going to help with your campaign, wasn’t he?’

  ‘He was,’ Gordon said, ‘and it’s just impossible to accept what’s happened. He was a great support to Hannah.’ He patted his wife’s hand and smiled. ‘Still, with or without him, we’ll have you elected, darling.’

  The doorbell rang and Jill took another swallow of her wine as she sensed escape beckoning.

  Jack Taylor came into the room, preceded by his collie. The dog ran up to Hannah and licked her face.

  ‘Sally! Get off!’ Laughing affectionately, she hugged the dog.

  ‘Well?’ Jack said. ‘Oh, hello, Jill,’ he added.

  ‘Hello, Jack.’

  ‘Take your coat off, Granddad,’ Hannah said.

  ‘No, I’m not stopping,’ he said. ‘I’m on my way up to Archie’s. I just thought I’d check to see as you got home OK.’

  ‘Safe and sound, as you can see.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘You’ll at least stop for a drink, won’t you, Jack?’ Gordon asked, his hand on the bottle.

  ‘No, thanks. Not now.’

  ‘What’s the weather doing?’ Hannah asked him. ‘They’ve promised snow.’

  ‘Ay, and I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t get some. Not that we have proper snow these days. I remember the days it were up over the walls on the Burnley Road. And that were nothing unusual.’

  ‘It’ll be this global warming,’ Hannah teased him.

  ‘Stuff and nonsense,’ he retorted. ‘Global warming? Pah. These politicians do dream up some rubbish.’

  ‘Scientists have dreamt that up, Granddad.’

  ‘And they’re just as bad,’ Jack retorted.

  Jill was intrigued by the exchange. Hannah was teasing; Jack couldn’t meet her gaze. What was all that about?

  ‘We were just talking about Bradley Johnson,’ Gordon put in. ‘Have you heard anything, Jack?’

  ‘No, and I can’t say as I’m interested in it, either.’ He clicked his fingers and Sally ran to his side. ‘Right, I’ll be off now then. I’ll maybe pop in tomorrow, Hannah.’

  ‘Take care, Granddad. And thanks for calling. Maybe you’ll manage to stay for a few minutes tomorrow,’ she added drily.

  ‘I will,’ he called over his shoulder.

  Gordon showed him out and then returned to the lounge.

  ‘Is he all right, do you think?’ he asked, looking to both of them for an answer. ‘He seemed a bit off.’

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ Hannah told him. ‘He’ll be more upset than he lets on about losing his first great-grandchild.’

  ‘I realize that. It’s one reason I asked about Bradley Johnson, so that we could talk about something else.’ He sighed. ‘Stupid idea, I suppose. He wasn’t Johnson’s biggest fan, was he? He’s never liked the idea of foreigners moving into the village.’

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ she said again. ‘Archie will cheer him up.’

  ‘They’re close, aren’t they?’ Jill said, smiling. ‘Jack and Archie.’

  ‘Almost joined at the hip,’ Hannah replied. ‘They went to school together, worked down the pit together, walked every inch of the hills together. They’re as thick as thieves, those two.’

  Jill emptied her glass.

  ‘Thanks so much for the wine,’ she said, getting to her feet, ‘but I’ll have to get off now.’

  ‘Stay for another,’ Hannah said.

  ‘I’d love to, but I can’t. Really.’ She gave Hannah a quick hug. ‘Take care of yourself, Hannah, and if there’s anything I can do, anything at all, just call in or give me a ring.’

  ‘Thanks, Jill.’ Again, Hannah couldn’t quite meet her gaze.

  Jill was glad to escape into the bitterly cold wind. She was still standing under the canopy above the front door, hunting in her pocket for her car keys, when she heard Hannah’s voice raised in fury.

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Gordon, can’t we talk about something else?’

  Shivering, Jill dashed to her car.

  Chapter Seven

  The following morning, Max was back at Kelton Manor.

  ‘Let’s make this quick,’ Jill muttered. She was standing by his side as he hammered on the door, rubbing her chilled hands together for warmth. ‘I want to see Ella before I head off for Styal.’

  Today, the door was opened by Tyler Johnson and Max thought he looked surprised, and far from happy to see them.

  ‘Mum’s out,’ he explained.

  ‘Yes, she mentioned that yesterday.’ Which was why Max was there. ‘It’s you and your brother we’d like to talk to.’

  ‘Us? About what?’

  It looked as if, given the choice, he would have slammed the door in their faces.

  ‘May we come inside?’ Max asked.

  With some reluctance, Tyler held open the door and they stepped inside. Max was grateful for that as it was another bitterly cold day. According to the weather forecasters, it was actually warmer today, but the strong north wind was simply making it feel colder.

  He had expected to be taken into the sitting room but Tyler, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, swaggered towards the kitchen.

  Max was aware of Jill gazing in wonder at the furnishings and array of appliances. Not that she could have used any of them—the kitchen was a foreign land to Jill. This room was vast, though. The table at which Keiran sat was a long, oblong mahogany one with eight chairs lined up. The rest of the kitchen featured a huge picture window, green Aga, walk-in freezer—

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Keiran asked, and Max dragged his attention from the wine rack that held thirty bottles of exceptionally fine red.

  ‘Just a couple of questions,’ he told him. ‘What I’m trying to do is eliminate as many people as possible. Now, we know you arrived here on Thursday morning, yes? What time would that have been?’

  ‘It was just after eleven,’ Tyler said.

  ‘That’s right,’ Keiran agreed.

  ‘The thing is,’ Max said, ‘your mother said she called you to let you know your father was missing at nine thirty that morning. You’re at Lancaster University, Keiran, is that right?’

  He nodded.

  ‘And you’re at Sheffield, Tyler. Now what I can’t understand is how you could speak to your mother, pack a few things, drive from Sheffield to Lancaster to pick up your brother and then drive down here in an hour and a half. While I can appreciate that, with so much on your mind, you might have ignored the odd speed limit or two, you still couldn’t do it in an hour and a half. It’s about a hundred miles from Sheffield to Lancaster so that’s getting on for two hours. Then, from Lancaster to Kelton would take you another hour.’

  ‘OK.’ Tyler sighed heavily as if all this was far beneath him. ‘I’d been staying with Keiran in Lancaster for a couple of days.’

  ‘Mum wouldn’t have minded,’ Keiran put in quickly. ‘It was Dad who would have objected.’

  No invitation was forthcoming but Jill pulled out a chair and sat down.

  ‘Why’s that, Keiran?’ she asked. ‘I suppose he would have expected you to be studying, yes?’

  She addressed herself to Keiran and Max had to agree that, if there were problems in this family, Keiran would talk far more freely than his older, more arrogant and confident brother.

  ‘He’d have expected Tyler to,’ he said.

  ‘Oh? Not you?’ she pressed.

  ‘I’m studying linguistics,’ he said and it was impossible to miss the trace of bitterness that cu
rved his top lip. ‘If you’d known Dad, you’d have known just what a waste of my time and his money he considered that.’

  ‘Ah. Did you argue about it?’

  He smiled at the question. ‘Many times.’

  ‘What about you, Tyler?’ she asked. ‘Did you argue with your father?’

  ‘Of course he didn’t,’ Keiran muttered. ‘He was golden boy. Got his head screwed on properly, that one,’ he mimicked Bradley Johnson.

  ‘Shut up, Keiran,’ Tyler warned.

  ‘Everything I did was a waste of time,’ Keiran went on, ignoring his brother. ‘He belittled me. Everything I did was wrong—my clothes, my friends, my conversation, my studying. Everything.’

  ‘Keiran, for God’s sake!’ Tyler looked at Max. ‘So there were a few arguments in this house. So what? Every family has them. It means nothing.’

  Tyler was tapping his foot, his gaze on the door as if he couldn’t wait to be rid of them.

  ‘If one of us was going to kill him,’ he added sarcastically, ‘we would have done it long ago. So you can eliminate us all, OK? Keiran and I were in Lancaster, and Mum was the one to report him missing.’ He paused, looking at Max. ‘So we’re eliminated, yes?’

  ‘It seems like it,’ Max agreed.

  ‘Good,’ Tyler said. ‘Now, was there anything else?’

  ‘Your mother couldn’t think of any enemies your father might have had,’ Max said. ‘Can you?’

  Tyler laughed at that. ‘How long have you got? Look, he was a successful man and, to be that, you have to be ruthless. In business, he didn’t care how many toes he stepped on. Of course he had enemies.’

  ‘To do with his business?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is the world of electronics so cut and thrust?’ Jill asked.

  They were giving the impression of a typical successful businessman but Max knew of the setbacks Bradley Johnson had suffered over recent years. Apparently, he’d pinned his hopes on a revolutionary piece of software, invested in it heavily, and had almost been put out of business when a rival had unveiled an almost identical product a couple of months before Bradley’s proposed launch.

  ‘Any business is cut and thrust, as you put it,’ Tyler said.

  ‘I see,’ she murmured.

  Max smiled inwardly. Jill would let him treat her like the village idiot. She wouldn’t like it, but she would allow it. For now.

  ‘And can you think of anyone else who disliked him?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, no one in this godforsaken village liked him. Why would they? The Yank coming and throwing his money around? They were jealous of him.’

  ‘Does anyone spring to mind who might have been jealous enough to kill him?’ Max asked.

  ‘No. No, of course not,’ Tyler snapped.

  ‘We’d love to help,’ Keiran said, ‘but we can’t. We were both in Lancaster at the time and, besides, we’ve hardly spent any time in the village. We didn’t really know much about Dad’s life.’

  ‘OK,’ Max said briskly. ‘That will be all for now. If you think of anything, will you let me know?’

  ‘Of course,’ Tyler said, striding for the door to show them out. ‘And thank you for calling,’ he added.

  A few flakes of snow were falling as they stepped outside. They had walked to the manor and now, heading back through the village, they strode out before the biting wind had a chance to penetrate their bones.

  ‘They’re both a bit uneasy,’ Jill remarked.

  ‘Yes, and despite their alleged closeness, they’re not exactly grieving for their father, are they?’ Max murmured.

  ‘They’re not. I’m sure Tyler knows more than he’s saying. Mind you,’ she added drily, ‘that wouldn’t be difficult. And what about Keiran? Usually, he’s nothing more than a parrot to his brother. Today, he was very talkative.’

  ‘And bitter.’

  ‘Yes, he was.’

  As they walked on, Jill glanced at her watch. ‘Are you off to headquarters?’

  ‘Yes. You?’

  ‘I need to see Ella, then I’m off to Styal again,’ she said, and he saw the way she shuddered at the prospect. ‘Oh, and before that, I’m going to see if I can blackmail a plumber to come out and look at the boiler …’

  Chapter Eight

  Jill had intended to go straight to Ella’s but, first, she nipped into the Co-op in Bacup, and as she’d managed to find a parking spot, no mean feat, she thought she’d take a walk into Stubbylee Park. She had plenty of time to call on Ella before she had to be at HMP Styal.

  Several people were walking with dogs and making the most of the sunshine.

  She walked on, past the aviaries, then crossed the track at the top to walk into Moorlands Park. This smaller area was deserted apart from someone sitting, quite still, on one of the children’s swings and a stiff, elderly lady walking with an equally stiff Jack Russell terrier. The only sounds to be heard were the distant rumble of traffic passing through the valley below and the caged birds singing joyfully.

  As she walked around the edge of the football pitch and up the side of Olive House, she wondered just where Claire Lawrence had buried her daughter’s body. She was still no closer to knowing. Claire, she suspected, would have chosen somewhere tranquil and beautiful, somewhere that held happy memories for Daisy. But where?

  According to expert opinion, Claire had truly believed she was Daisy’s saviour. There were no religious beliefs behind her thinking; she simply thought that it was better to be dead than to exist in this world. Sadly, given Claire’s world, there was a certain logic to that thinking.

  But still that theory didn’t sit comfortably with Jill.

  She walked through the formal, circular garden and towards the children’s play area, and recognized the man sitting on the swing. It was Gordon Brooks.

  She pushed open the gate and walked over to him.

  ‘Hello, Gordon,’ she said quietly.

  He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard her approach, and was startled by the sound of her voice. ‘Oh, Jill. Hello, there.’

  He blinked rapidly, and she wished she hadn’t intruded.

  ‘How are you?’ she asked. Stupid question. It was clear that he was suffering.

  ‘Fine, thanks.’ He forced a smile. ‘You?’

  ‘Yes. Just enjoying this weather. I should be working really, but it’s too nice to be sitting in front of a computer.

  No doubt we’ll soon have our usual winter weather of rain, rain and more rain.’

  ‘No doubt.’

  ‘How’s Hannah?’ she asked, sitting on the swing next to his.

  ‘Fine, thanks. Yes, fine.’ He sighed. ‘She had a little too much to drink last night. I’m sorry about that.’

  ‘I don’t blame her,’ Jill replied. ‘If I’d lost my baby, I’d want a damn good drinking session, too.’

  ‘Yes.’ He smiled gratefully.

  ‘It’s going to be difficult, Gordon.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I know it is. Some things are just too painful to talk about, I suppose.’

  ‘They are,’ she agreed.

  Gordon didn’t seem to be coping at all well and, if he felt unable to talk to Hannah, it would be a long time before he got over this. Tall and thin, with wispy fair hair, he could never be described as robust, but today he looked tired, drawn and defeated.

  ‘We all deal with grief in our own way,’ she reminded him, ‘and the loss of a child is particularly difficult to accept. It goes against the natural order of life. It seems so cruel. Senseless. Unfair. People are torn by so many conflicting emotions.’

  ‘A colleague told me that it was unlucky to make preparations,’ he confided. ‘Apparently, his wife wouldn’t allow so much as a disposable nappy in the house. I told him that was nonsense. Superstitious nonsense.’ He reached into the pocket of his thick sheepskin coat for a handkerchief and blew his nose. ‘I did the lot,’ he went on. ‘I wanted it all to be ready for my little girl. We were having a girl, you know. Nothing wa
s too much trouble. No expense was spared. The nursery is decorated, mobiles are hanging from the ceiling, and dozens of expensive toys are sitting on the shelves. My little girl will never play with those, will she?’ He turned slightly to look at her. ‘It seems that my colleague was right.’

  ‘No,’ Jill said, and she could have wept with him. ‘You were right, Gordon. It is superstitious nonsense. I’m no doctor, but I know for a fact that having a room decorated in a certain way isn’t a cause for miscarriage.’

  He scuffed his shoes on the soft, impact-absorbing surface at their feet. ‘Put like that, it sounds silly,’ he agreed.

  ‘When tragedy happens,’ she went on, ‘we need someone to blame. If there’s no one, and there really isn’t, Gordon, we look for something else. And that can be anything from walking under a ladder to stepping on a crack in the pavement.’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  Jill had a sudden longing to push her swing into action and see how high she could go. It was years since she’d been on a swing. Years. She’d better not, though. There was sure to be some law about adults on swings …

  ‘Jack called in,’ he said, ‘so I thought I could get some air for a while.’

  ‘That’s good. They’re close, aren’t they?’

  ‘Yes. Mind you, he won’t talk about it, either. He’s of the old school and keeps his feelings to himself. Stiff upper lip and all that.’

  Jill nodded her understanding.

  ‘It’s affected him badly, though,’ Gordon added. ‘You can’t say anything to him without having him jump down your throat.’

  Jill had noticed.

  ‘Hannah’s the same,’ he said after a while. ‘She’s not a great one for showing her feelings, but I get the impression that she’s angry with me, that she blames me in some way.’

  Jill had gained the exact opposite impression. She had thought that Hannah blamed herself.

  ‘I’m sure she doesn’t.’ Jill leaned across and patted his arm. ‘She’ll be hurt and angry because she’s lost her baby, but not angry with you. She’ll need you far more than you’ll know.’

  He didn’t comment on that.

  ‘I sometimes feel angry with her,’ he admitted instead.