Written in Blood

by Collett, Chris

  ‘I’m not sure that there’s much I can tell you about Diana,’ said Fliss Fitzgibbon, when they had ordered. ‘At least, nothing that would be relevant to how she and Geoff were killed.’

  ‘I’m just trying to piece things together, and Diana’s illness is something that everyone mentions, but no one talks about, if you see what I mean.’

  She gave a light laugh. ‘You’ve got that exactly right,’ she said. ‘But I don’t see how—’

  ‘I think Sir Geoffrey was being blackmailed,’ Mariner said.

  ‘Blackmail? That’s quite an assertion to make.’

  ‘Over a period of eighteen months Sir Geoffrey was making regular cash payments to an unknown person or persons, or rather his assistant was on his behalf. It was done in the guise of a betting scam.’

  ‘Geoff wasn’t a gambling man.’

  ‘So I’ve been told, which is one of the things that makes me believe it was blackmail. The arrangement was causing him some distress, and he tried unsuccessfully to end it just the week before he was killed. It’s possible that it was related to Diana’s illness, though I’m not yet sure how.’

  ‘Diana would have been so ashamed for people to know about her problems. Mental illness is the last taboo, don’t you think? Geoff would have done anything to protect her from that.’

  ‘That’s what I thought. I know this may be painful, but what can you tell me about it?’

  ‘Even I don’t know all the details. We’re going back a long way. Things first came to a head when I was about nine, it would have been the summer of 1962, although Diana hadn’t been herself for some time before that. It was university that seemed to do it. Diana did well at school. She wasn’t a brilliant scholar but she pushed herself hard and got into Oxford to study law.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Not many people do. My parents, especially my father, were incredibly proud of her. But she didn’t stay the course. She came home again before the end of her first term. I don’t know if she couldn’t keep up academically or if she simply couldn’t cope with the rough and tumble of student life. Whatever it was, it had destroyed her confidence. After that she seemed to get very depressed, crying at the slightest thing. I think she felt she had let everyone down.

  ‘I was away at boarding school by then, and whereas on previous holidays I’d had a good time with my big sister, suddenly we were all treading on eggshells around her. Selfish little brat that I was, I merely felt resentful that Dizzy was no fun any more. I remember those particular Christmas and Easter holidays vividly. Easter was especially bad. Then shortly after that she had a complete breakdown. Not that I witnessed anything. I was back at school.’ A single tear broke loose and ran down her cheek.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Mariner said. ‘If this is too upsetting—’

  She took a deep breath. ‘No, it’s fine. When I got home for the summer Diz wasn’t there. She’d been sent away to the country to recuperate. Later I learned that she’d tried to take her own life. It was hushed up of course and never talked about at the time. Any kind of mental illness wasn’t something families, especially our kind of family, admitted to. A few months after that my father died of a heart attack. Family lore has it that it was brought on by the stress of what had happened to Dizzy, but either way it was a horrible time for us and, even if it wasn’t true, I know she blamed herself. The next time I saw her was at Daddy’s funeral and I hardly recognised her. She was wasting away before our eyes, like those anorexic girls you see in the papers. Then in a matter of months she had met Geoffrey and they were planning to get married. Geoff literally saved her life.’

  ‘And did Diana have any further episodes?’

  ‘Yes. She went through a bad patch just before Geoff resigned as an MP. Dizzy was always prone to depression, and she always wore long sleeves.’

  That significance was lost on Mariner and his face must have betrayed him.

  ‘When she couldn’t cope she used to cut herself,’ Fliss said. ‘Poor Diana, she was so sweet and gentle. Too good for this world really.’

  ‘Do you remember any recent recurrences?’ Mariner asked, thinking that the wine they were drinking seemed exceptionally strong. His head felt slightly detached from the rest of him. It was very warm in here, too. He loosened his tie.

  ‘I think something might have happened last summer, about eighteen months ago. I was planning to come over for a visit, but quite suddenly Geoff called and asked me to postpone.’

  ‘Have you any idea what it was?’

  ‘It sounded serious. Geoff said that Dizzy wasn’t up to receiving visitors. It crossed my mind that she may have attempted suicide again, though I don’t know why. Not something that Geoff would have wanted broadcast, especially in the position he was in by then. It would have made him politically vulnerable. By the law of statistics there must be hundreds of people in public life who are affected by mental illness in some form or another, but it’s rarely talked about, is it? I sometimes wonder if Diana would have been helped if they’d started a family. I’m sure it would have taken her mind off things, and she loved children.’ It was a different opinion from Norman Balfour. Mariner wondered who was most accurate.

  ‘Diana took medication for her illness,’ he said. ‘Is it possible that she could have developed a drug dependency problem, on prescription drugs I mean?’

  ‘She was on medication for a long time, never went anywhere without her little green bag.’

  As Mariner had surmised, it would have been easy to exploit Diana’s illness for financial gain. Not everyone was thrilled about what Ryland was doing at the Commission. Perhaps someone was hoping to use it as a way of getting him out, too. But who else knew about her condition? Even Diana’s own sister’s knowledge was sketchy. There would be medical records of any treatment she had received in the past, and Diana would have been treated by a team of medical professionals while she was ill. Had one of them seen an opportunity for extortion, or been got at by someone who did?

  ‘Do you know where Diana went to recuperate when she was first ill?’

  ‘I don’t think I was ever told. All I recall is that it was in the country where the clean air would be beneficial to her health. I think it was somehow church related too, like some religious retreat. Our Lady of Lourdes is something that comes back to me but I might be off beam with that. Norman might know of course.’ Their main course arrived, but the fleshy slices of duck, swimming in crimson plum sauce made Mariner feel slightly queasy. ‘So there you have it, the dirty linen in our closet. Has it helped?’

  ‘Sometimes having the background makes sense of other things.’

  ‘You’ve discussed this with your colleagues?’

  ‘I’ve only just arrived at it myself,’ Mariner said. ‘My colleagues also believe that I’m not functioning well at the moment. I should also tell you that as the last person to see her alive, I’m on the list of possibles for Eleanor’s murder, but I hope you can believe that I didn’t do it. You’re the only person who can help me.’ As a wave of nausea struck Mariner found himself clutching her wrist.

  Smiling uncertainly, Fliss gently removed his hand. ‘What would you like me to do?’

  ‘It would help to find out as much as possible about the treatment Diana had, this retreat that she stayed at when she was first ill and anything that’s happened since. Could you see if there’s anything in her personal papers that makes reference to it?’ Mariner squinted at her. Her face seemed to be blurring at the edges and wouldn’t keep still.

  ‘It’s going back a long time, but I’ll try. I’m rather intrigued myself. Where can I contact you?’

  Mariner gave her his business card. This wine was potent stuff. The room was moving around him as if he’d stepped onto a merry-go-round. ‘I think I need some air,’ he said, getting to his feet. But when he tried to walk out of the restaurant his legs seemed to have liquefied.

  Mariner’s mobile phone ringing close by roused him, and in the semi-darkness he sc
rambled over the floor trying to locate his jacket. He had a moment of disorientation as he put the phone to his ear. It was Anna. ‘Where are you?’

  Good question. He was still wearing his shirt but could see his trousers hanging over the back of a chair. He scanned the room and in the half-light something on the bed moved lazily in her sleep and then he remembered. Fliss Fitzgibbon. Afraid to consider what might have happened here, Mariner got up and padded into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him. His head hurt like hell. ‘I called in at a pub and had a few drinks,’ he said, keeping his voice low. ‘It didn’t seem a good idea to drive back so I’ve stopped overnight at a place. I’ll be back soon.’

  ‘Well the case conference starts at eleven, if you’re still planning to come?’

  ‘Of course I am, I’ll be back well before then.’ Even though it was already nine thirty and up until now it had slipped his mind.

  When he went back into the bedroom Fliss Fitzgibbon, wrapped in a beige silk robe, was pulling back the curtains. ‘Feeling better?’ she asked, with a smile. ‘Don’t look so worried, you only spent the night on the couch. After practically passing out on your way outside, I could hardly let you drive home.’

  But this morning there was no choice. Convincing Fliss that he was fit to do so, Mariner drove back slowly, his head aching and his vision blurring intermittently. It was one of the worst hangovers he’d had in a long time, probably not helped by the fact that he’d declined the offer of breakfast. He couldn’t imagine his stomach holding onto anything for long anyway.

  At Anna’s empty house he showered and put on a clean suit, which, though a marginal improvement, also made him late. As he dressed he put a call through to Mike Baxter. It was early, so the office was closed, but he left a message on the answering machine, asking Baxter to find out what he could about a retreat called Our Lady of Lourdes.

  Anna had left a curt note on the kitchen table; details of the venue. Next up Mariner couldn’t get parking outside the busy social services offices, so the meeting was well under way when he arrived, sweating and breathless, his stomach gurgling ominously. Everyone turned as he went in, there seemed to be dozens of faces. Mariner recognised Jamie’s social worker, Louise from the hostel, Jamie’s new GP, but there was a man sitting next to Anna he hadn’t seen before. He and Anna had their heads together, smiling about a shared joke and looking very friendly.

  Murmuring apologies to the room in general Mariner took the seat on the other side of Anna, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze, but all the time under the impression that he was intruding on something.

  ‘This is Gareth,’ Anna whispered. ‘He’s a friend of Mark’s. He recommended the Towyn Farm Community. Are you all right?’

  ‘A bit tired, that’s all.’ In truth Mariner felt terrible. The lights were too bright and the room stifling, but as none of the other men had taken off their jackets, Mariner felt inhibited from doing so too. He could feel the perspiration running down his back.

  Jamie’s social worker from Manor Park was setting out the options. ‘We could do a gradual settling back in at the hostel, but Jamie would need increased supervision.’

  ‘How long would that take?’ Anna asked.

  ‘We could perhaps start with Saturdays and then after a few weeks we could try an overnight and slowly build up from there.’

  ‘That could take weeks, months even.’

  ‘We could speed things up if Jamie does well.’

  ‘And if he doesn’t?’ Anna shot back. ‘None of this was his fault in the first place. He’s done nothing wrong.’

  ‘Another option would be for you to have additional support for Jamie at home,’ the social worker suggested.

  Yes, and how long would that last? Wondered Mariner.

  ‘We have a third option,’ Anna said, rather too quickly. She introduced Gareth to the group, and he proceeded to give the Towyn Farm Community the hard sell. What he didn’t talk about was the cost, but presumably Anna had already worked out the financial implications.

  ‘I’ll talk about funding in a moment,’ Gareth said, but Mariner hardly heard anything else because suddenly the discussion had faded into nothing more than background noise. Out of nowhere it had come to him, the identity of the person responsible for blackmailing and killing Sir Geoffrey Ryland. The revelation brought with it a rush of adrenalin so powerful that a numbing sensation began to creep up from his neck that he recognised as the precursor to fainting. ‘Excuse me,’ he gasped before stumbling out of the room.

  In the gents he squatted on the floor, ducking his head between his knees until gradually everything began to return to normal. When he could, he stood up and splashed cold water on his face. Anna was waiting for him outside. ‘We’ve taken a break for half an hour. Are you all right?’

  ‘I’ve felt better.’

  ‘Let’s get a coffee and something to eat. Maybe you should see a doctor.’

  ‘Like Doctor Gareth, you mean? You two seem very thick.’

  ‘Oh great, we’re going through this again, are we?’

  ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me he’s gay too.’

  ‘Recently divorced actually. He’s been very helpful, and he’s good fun.’ Everything Mariner was not.

  ‘Well I hope you’ll be very happy.’

  Anna ignored him. ‘Towyn would be very good for Jamie. It’s got what the hostel hasn’t: open space. That’s what he misses. That and people who will make him feel welcome.’

  Mariner couldn’t argue with that. ‘And if he goes there?’

  ‘I’d like to move out there too.’ It was what he didn’t want to hear. ‘I’d like us to do it together, but of course that would have to be your decision.’

  ‘And if I said no?’ Mariner’s head was throbbing. He should stop this now, but he couldn’t.

  ‘I would go anyway. I’ve thought a lot about this. If I’m to have any kind of life I need Jamie to be happy and settled. My first duty is to him.’

  She’d come a long way. When she and Mariner had first met, Anna was an independent woman who had no intention of taking responsibility for her younger brother.

  ‘You could visit from here,’ Mariner suggested weakly.

  She shook her head. ‘Not in the long term. It’s too far.

  Besides, it’s not only about Jamie. I want to move away from the city. I don’t feel safe here any more.’

  ‘You think Hitler’s got a few more surprises up his sleeve?’

  ‘It could so easily have been a terrorist bomb, you know that.’

  ‘I thought we had a future together,’ Mariner said without conviction.

  ‘So did I, but something’s happened to us hasn’t it? The bomb has played its part, but it’s more than that, isn’t it?’

  He could have told her then. The timing wasn’t brilliant. He was fast learning that it never would be. But again the words stuck in his throat. ‘Yes,’ he said, lamely. ‘It is.’

  ‘Are you coming back in?’

  ‘You seem to be doing all right on your own. I still feel a bit sick.’ A good excuse for running away.

  ‘Why don’t you get some fresh air? I’ll meet you at home later.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’

  What had he done to deserve her? Even when he was behaving like a shit she was nice to him. It just made him feel worse.

  Walking back to his car, Mariner remembered what had precipitated his exit from the room. Outside, with a clear head, it was still viable. In his car he put through a call to Dave Flynn, but got only his voicemail. ‘Dave, I’ve another couple of questions, about those photos, and about the crime scene—’

  By the time he’d finished his message the positive effects of the adrenalin had kicked in and he was firing on all cylinders. The more he thought about it, the more he realised it was the only answer. There was work to be done, but if he was right he’d cracked it.

  The first thing he’d do was to follow Anna’s advice.
Some outdoor exercise would help him to work out the detail. The more concrete evidence he could take to Flynn, the more seriously Flynn would have to take it. Mariner knew he was only a beat away from proving why Sir Geoffrey Ryland was killed and who had killed him. It had begun with blackmail, Mariner was sure about that, and now he had figured out the motive. The only thing he didn’t have was the identity of the blackmailer, but the motive gave him a place to look, and if he could come up with a name then there would be no option other than to re-examine the case. And that was all he wanted.

  He’d go home and get his boots, have an hour up at Waseley Country Park, then go back to Anna’s. Maybe tonight he’d take her out for dinner and she could tell him what was going on with Jamie, and he could tell her what was going on with him. They could start building a few bridges. Buoyed up by positive feelings, Mariner made it as far as his front door when everything went black.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Later in the afternoon Anna left the case conference exhilarated. She’d got the outcome she wanted; agreement from the professionals that Towyn would be the best place for Jamie, and an undertaking that Social Care would help to subsidise his placement there. Their contribution wouldn’t be a lot but it would help.

  ‘I need to get back,’ said Gareth. ‘Congratulations.’ They were standing on the steps of the social services offices.

  ‘Thanks, and thanks for your help. I’m sure your input helped to sway the decision.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. You present a pretty good argument. I’ll look forward to seeing more of both of you when Jamie makes the move. And I hope Tom’s okay.’

  ‘He will be, I’m sure.’

  ‘After what you’ve told me about his recent behaviour I wouldn’t discount post traumatic stress disorder. He sounds like a textbook case. He should think about getting some help, especially if his actions become more extreme.’