Death at Burwell Farm

by Betty Rowlands

  Sukey was becoming increasingly alarmed. If there was any doubt that Jennifer was in a thoroughly irrational state of mind it was dispelled by her next words. ‘I’ve worked out exactly what I’m going to do,’ she declared. ‘I’m going to become one of their initiates and find out what tricks they get up to.’ She took a deep breath and looked Sukey full in the face. Her eyes burned with an almost fanatical glow. ‘I want to ask you a favour,’ she said.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘When I find what I’m looking for, I’ll need a witness. Will you come with me?’

  Sukey had been listening in growing astonishment and disbelief at the succession of wild accusations and bizarre plans for justifying them, and casting about for some way of persuading Jennifer to take a more balanced view of the situation. Think it over… wait until the first shock has passed… have a word with your doctor, were some of the suggestions that sprang to mind. It took a moment for her to grasp the full significance of the young widow’s closing words, and when she did she could only sit and stare with her mouth open.

  As if interpreting her silence for refusal, Jennifer grasped Sukey by both hands. ‘Please!’ she begged. ‘Say you’ll do it – you promised to be my friend!’

  ‘I know I did, and it’s as your friend that I’m asking you not to go rushing into something that might lead you into serious trouble,’ Sukey said earnestly.

  It dawned on her as she spoke that here, in a more extreme form, was almost a carbon copy of Adrian Masters’s reaction to the death of Auntie Vera and his insistence that someone at RYCE was in some unspecified way responsible. It was totally illogical, yet the fact that the two events, occurring in such quick succession, had aroused the same passionate reaction, was uncanny.

  ‘I know what I’m doing, I don’t need to think about it,’ said Jennifer dismissively.

  ‘Well, I do.’ Sukey found herself regretting having ever become involved in this bizarre scenario. ‘I’m a single parent with a son who’s still at school, I have a full-time job, I can’t just drop everything and—’

  ‘If it’s the money, don’t worry about that – I’ll pay for everything.’

  ‘It isn’t just a question of money. Listen, Jennifer.’ Sukey gently squeezed the hands that remained clinging to hers. ‘You’ve had a terrible shock, you’re overwrought and grieving. It’s very difficult to think clearly in those circumstances, and being in the house by yourself doesn’t help. Why don’t you let me try and arrange for someone—’

  ‘I’m all right, I don’t want anyone else in the house, unless you – would you stay with me for a day or two? Just until we can arrange to become initiates? I’ll fill in the forms and everything—’

  This was becoming more difficult by the minute. ‘Now listen, Jennifer,’ said Sukey firmly. ‘You must get this into your head – I have responsibilities that I can’t just drop at a moment’s notice, and in any case you’re in no fit state to make decisions. Give it a day or two, wait till you’ve calmed down.’

  ‘I don’t want to calm down. I want to stay angry.’ Jennifer spoke through gritted teeth, her mouth set in an obstinate line.

  Sukey had a flash of inspiration. ‘I read somewhere that revenge is a dish best eaten cold,’ she said.

  Jennifer gave a disdainful sniff. ‘What do you suppose that means?’

  ‘I think it probably means that you stand a better chance of succeeding if you plan things carefully, rather than go rushing off like a bull at a gate.’

  ‘You think so?’ For the first time, Jennifer showed signs of wavering.

  Sukey pressed home her advantage. ‘It makes sense to me.’

  ‘But you will help me?’

  ‘That depends on what you decide to do.’

  ‘But you aren’t saying no?’

  Prevarication seemed to be the only way out of an increasingly tricky situation. ‘I’m not saying no, but I’m not saying yes either – and I’m certainly not committing myself one way or the other tonight,’ Sukey said firmly. ‘And I want you to promise not to do anything precipitate. Think things over for a day or two. And in the meantime, I suggest you have a chat with your doctor – and you’ll have to see your solicitor as well.’ She indicated the stacks of files and correspondence on the desk. ‘You’ll have a lot of business matters to deal with.’ And perhaps that’ll take your mind off this crazy obsession, she added mentally.

  ‘What do I want to see the doctor for?’ Jennifer demanded, a shade belligerently.

  ‘You’re still in shock. He’ll give you something to help you cope – and make it easier for you to think everything out more clearly,’ Sukey added by way of an inducement. ‘And one more thing. I’d be very careful not to go repeating these accusations about RYCE to anyone else. You have absolutely no proof that they’ve done anything improper and you could lay yourself open to an action for defamation.’

  Jennifer’s features settled into a sullen expression. ‘All right,’ she muttered.

  ‘So what was up with Mrs Drew?’ asked Fergus. ‘She sounded pretty worked up on the phone.’

  Sukey gave a wry grimace. ‘“Worked up” is the understatement of the week. The shock of her husband’s suicide has affected the poor girl’s state of mind very badly. In fact, she’s quite paranoid at the moment. On the strength of finding from her husband’s bank statement that he recently drew out a thousand pounds in cash, she’s convinced herself that he was being blackmailed and that was what drove him to suicide.’

  ‘What on earth does she suppose he’s done to lay himself open to blackmail?’

  ‘You tell me. It can’t be ruled out, I suppose, but I tried to persuade her not to jump to conclusions – said there could easily be a perfectly ordinary explanation. She brushed all that aside and went on to allege that it’s someone at the RYCE Foundation who’s behind it.’

  Fergus’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re kidding!’

  ‘That’s not all. She’s planning to enrol for one of their courses and go snooping around in an attempt to track down the supposed blackmailer, and she only wants me to go along with her to help with the detective work.’

  ‘Did you say you’d do it?’ At the word ‘detective’ a familiar gleam dawned in Fergus’s eyes. ‘It might be rather a lark. Seeing what really goes on there, I mean.’

  ‘Now you’re the one who’s kidding.’ Wearily, Sukey passed a hand over her eyes. ‘That place is beginning to haunt me,’ she complained.

  ‘You turned her down, then?’ There was no mistaking the lad’s disappointment.

  ‘I’m afraid I was a bit ambivalent because I didn’t want to cause another wobbly by saying an outright no, but I assure you I’ve no intention of getting mixed up in any of her half-baked schemes. For goodness’ sake, I hardly know the woman.’ Sukey got up from the couch, where she had collapsed as soon as she reached home. ‘It’s nearly eleven and I’ve had a gruelling day. I’m going to bed.’

  Fergus gave a guilty start. ‘Oh Lord, I almost forgot – Adrian rang not long after you left. He asked if you’d call back when you got home. Said it didn’t matter how late it was.’

  ‘What did he want?’

  ‘He didn’t say, except that it was important.’

  Sukey gave a resigned sigh. ‘I suppose I’d better see what he wants or he’ll be sitting up half the night.’ She picked up the phone. ‘What’s their number?’

  Adrian answered on the first ring. ‘Sukey? It’s good of you to call back.’

  ‘Fergus said you wanted to speak to me urgently.’

  ‘Yes. I don’t know if he or Anita ever mentioned it, but Vera kept a diary, quite a detailed one.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Actually, she had quite a flair for writing. There wasn’t anything secret about it – in fact, she used to read bits to us occasionally, usually about people she’d met, places she’d been to and so on. She had a great sense of humour and quite a racy style – some of it was very entertaining.’ Adrian paused for a mom
ent before continuing. ‘I’ve just been reading through the last few entries. I was looking for some reference to her health, any suggestion that she suspected there was anything wrong.’

  ‘Did you find anything?’

  ‘Nothing much on that score. I don’t think she’d consulted a doctor for years, but there was a recent entry that made me sit up. She’d met this bloke she knew in a pub somewhere – she was a great one for having pub lunches. She writes, “Met Ollie in the Green Dragon. Hadn’t seen him for ages – he used to come to RYCE and they did him a lot of good, but he hasn’t been lately. I’ve quite missed him, he was a real gentleman. He looked very down in the mouth today and I tried to cheer him up. I suggested he come back to RYCE for a booster session. His reaction was extraordinary – he turned the colour of a beetroot and said, ‘Those bastards – I wish I’d never set foot in the place!’ Then he banged his beer mug down on the table and stomped out without even apologising for saying ‘bastards’.” There!’ A note of triumph entered Adrian’s voice. ‘What do you think of that? I knew there was something fishy about that place.’

  At the reference to the man called Ollie, Sukey’s mind had been instantly on the alert and she had listened with growing interest. Not wishing at this stage to say anything that Adrian could seize on to reinforce his suspicions, she said cautiously, ‘It does sound as if something went a bit wrong in that man’s case, but it doesn’t necessarily mean—’

  ‘They’re up to something, I’m sure of it. It’s no good going to the police – they won’t take it seriously. That’s why I’m telling you.’

  Briefly, he explained his reasons for calling her. ‘I don’t expect you to decide right away,’ he said. ‘All I ask is that you think it over.’

  Anything to get rid of him so that I can go to bed and forget all this crazy nonsense. ‘All right, I’ll do that,’ she said wearily and hung up.

  ‘So what was that about?’ asked Fergus.

  ‘Gus, you aren’t going to believe this. He’s asking me to do the same as Jennifer Drew – play detective at the RYCE Foundation.’

  Nine

  ‘It’s a very striking coincidence, certainly, but I don’t believe it’s anything more than that,’ said Jim.

  ‘Two unexpected deaths with a rather questionable feature in common, and you’re saying it’s no more than coincidence?’ Sukey looked at him in surprise. Recalling the numerous occasions when he had crossed swords with a certain recently retired superintendent in what seemed to her to be comparable circumstances, she added, ‘You’re beginning to sound like Mr Sladden.’

  ‘Point taken, but in neither of the cases we’re talking about is there anything to suggest that a crime has been committed. It’s simply that two highly strung people have shown a similar reaction to the sudden death of someone close to them. Jennifer Drew is obviously so shattered by her husband’s suicide that logical thought has gone out of the window, and as for Adrian Masters…’ Jim shook his head in exasperation. ‘He’s been so anti the RYCE outfit from day one that he’s ready to believe anything against them. I’m sure they’re both barking up the wrong tree.’

  ‘Adrian’d be even more convinced if he knew about the state she was in when Jarvis saw her leave the house the very day she died,’ Sukey reminded him.

  ‘Then you’d better not mention it,’ said Jim sharply. ‘In any case, you can’t be certain it was Vera.’

  ‘It would be interesting to know how many elderly women among the RYCE initiates drive red Metros.’

  ‘All right, it probably was her, but it still doesn’t prove anything against the people who run it. My advice is to forget all about it.’

  ‘But what about Vera’s comments in her diary? Doesn’t that indicate that Oliver Drew held RYCE responsible for his sudden switch from euphoria to depression? Something must have happened to account for that outburst.’

  ‘In the first place, we don’t know that it was Drew she was referring to – didn’t you say the diary merely mentioned someone called Ollie? And it’s more than likely she exaggerated his reactions anyway – the way she apparently took exception to the word “bastards” shows a pretty old-maidish attitude.’

  ‘Maybe, but I still think Adrian may have a point when he—’

  ‘Now look here, Sook.’ She could tell from his tone that he was beginning to lose patience with the topic. ‘The mere fact that Oliver Drew and Vera Masters both attended meetings of a somewhat eccentric cult doesn’t suggest to me that their deaths are in any way related. It’s not as if the cause of death was the same. Vera obviously had a heart condition that no one suspected – the doctor who examined her body is confident that the autopsy will confirm it – and as for Oliver Drew, for all we know he might have been up to his neck in some shady deal that his wife knew nothing about.’

  ‘All right, but I’d still like to know a bit more about the background to this outfit.’ Sukey began unpacking and putting away the supplies they had brought in for the weekend, took two glasses from a cupboard and put them on the table. From the refrigerator she took a can of beer and handed it to him. ‘You did promise Adrian you’d ask around,’ she reminded him. ‘Did you find out anything?’

  His frown gave way to a smile as he took the can. ‘Thanks, I’m ready for that.’ He pulled off the ring, poured out the contents and took a long draught. ‘Yes, I did, as a matter of fact. There’s nothing about the organisation in our records, but Andy Radcliffe happened to remember reading something about it in the local press a couple of years or so ago.’ He gestured towards the empty glass. ‘What are you going to have?’

  ‘A gin and tonic, please. Will you fix it for me while I do the spuds?’

  He poured her drink and took another appreciative swig from his own. ‘Thank goodness it’s Friday – it’s been a long week.’

  ‘Hear, hear!’ Sukey put potatoes into the sink and turned on the tap. ‘Well go on, tell me,’ she said impatiently.

  ‘It’s nothing to get excited about. The couple who run the place are Percival and Edith Burrell and Andy said they were in a spot of trouble once for making misleading claims for what they refer to as their “therapies”. Some unofficial watchdog got hold of one of their brochures and showed it to his doctor, who reported them to the local health authority. As far as Andy remembers, they simply agreed to withdraw their current publicity material and submit a revised version for approval. No, I’m afraid Adrian Masters and your little friend Jennifer will just have to accept that there’s absolutely no call for any kind of criminal investigation into the deaths of their dear ones. Come on, love,’ he coaxed, picking up his beer and Sukey’s so far untouched glass. ‘You look tired as well – let’s relax in the sitting room for half an hour before we start thinking about food.’

  She was only too ready to accept the suggestion. Throughout the day her mind had been in turmoil as the result of the disturbing requests that she had received the previous evening, first from Jennifer and then from Adrian, to take on what amounted to a private investigation. That was something she had omitted to tell Jim when describing her visit to the former and the phone call from the latter, knowing that his reaction would have been to insist without hesitation that she refuse. Her own common sense told her that she should do just that, but at the back of her mind a notion lurked that despite Jim’s perfectly rational arguments, there was some justification for suspicion, a notion that refused to be stifled. Her innate curiosity was beginning to make its voice heard as well.

  For the moment, however, she was content to relax on the couch with her head on her lover’s shoulder and enjoy the prospect of two days of his company. For once, there was no urgent inquiry afoot that threatened to disrupt their plans at short notice, Fergus was spending the weekend with his father and the weather was set fair.

  Jim put an arm round her and rested his cheek against hers. ‘Had a good day?’ he asked.

  ‘Fairly routine.’

  ‘George Barnes told me about your bit of detective
work on the missing garden machinery. I hear it led to a result.’

  ‘Oh yes, it was Darrell Millings, as I suspected. He’d been delivering the goods, casing the place at the same time and sneaking back to reclaim them. He must have had an accomplice, though – the ride-on mower that was nicked from Burwell was too big and unwieldy for one person to handle.’

  ‘I heard it was recovered, along with most of the other machinery that was nicked. Well done!’ He gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘A few more satisfied customers to set against the ones we couldn’t help.’

  ‘I know one person who won’t be rejoicing – Darrell’s employer. He thought the sun shone out of his ears.’

  ‘Ah well, you can’t please everyone.’

  They finished their drinks in a contented silence. Then Sukey said, ‘I suppose we’d better start thinking about supper.’

  ‘If you’re tired, why don’t I pop out for fish and chips? The steaks will keep till tomorrow.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  As Jim sat up and reached for his jacket, which he had thrown over the back of the couch before sitting down, the telephone rang. Sukey’s heart sank as without preamble in response to her ‘Hullo’, Jennifer Drew said, ‘I’ve been waiting all day to hear from you.’ Her voice had a sharp, brittle quality, very different from the broken-hearted tones of the previous day.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’ve not long been home from work.’ Out of the corner of her eye, Sukey caught sight of Jim in the doorway, his eyebrows forming a question. ‘You sound better,’ she went on, thinking as she spoke that ‘different’ might have been a more appropriate word.

  ‘Have you thought about what I asked you?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve thought about it,’ Sukey replied cautiously, silently adding, I’ve hardly been able to think of anything else.

  ‘I went to the doctor like you advised me,’ Jennifer went on. ‘He gave me some pills called…’ – there was a pause, during which Sukey envisaged her checking the label on the bottle – ‘…diazepam. I took one right away and another one just now and you were right, it’s made me feel absolutely fine.’