Death at Burwell Farm

by Betty Rowlands

  What did I tell you? Just keep on taking them for a day or two and—’

  ‘So now I feel ready to go ahead with my plan.’

  ‘Your plan?’

  ‘Don’t you remember? I’m going to enrol with RYCE and you’re going to come with me, aren’t you? I’ve started to fill in the registration forms – that is, I’ve done mine, but I’ll want your full name and address and a few other details.’

  ‘Now just a minute…’ Sukey felt herself losing her grip on the situation. Jim’s penetrating green eyes were fixed on her now, their expression no longer one of mild curiosity. ‘Look, you’ve caught me at an awkward moment,’ she said.

  ‘So when shall I call you?’ From Jennifer’s tone, it was clear that grief and raw emotion had given way to an ice-cold determination.

  ‘I don’t know, I’ll have to think… I’ll call you back.’

  ‘Well, don’t leave it too long.’ There was a click as Jennifer ended the call. Sukey put down the phone and looked helplessly across the room at Jim. He had put on his jacket and his car key was in his hand, but he clearly had no intention of leaving until she had explained her obvious discomfiture.

  ‘What was that all about?’ he demanded.

  ‘Oh dear, I suppose you had to know sooner or later, but I was hoping we’d have the weekend in peace.’

  He listened in growing disbelief and indignation as she outlined Jennifer’s plans for solving the mystery of her husband’s suicide and her demand for Sukey’s active participation, which had been followed almost immediately by a similar request from Adrian Masters. ‘I don’t believe it!’ he exclaimed. ‘I never heard anything so outrageous in my life! Why on earth didn’t you turn them both down on the spot?’

  ‘I was afraid to do that in Jennifer’s case because she was in such a fragile emotional state that I thought she could easily have a total breakdown. I was hoping that when she’d had a chat with her doctor and taken his advice, she’d see things differently, but she seems more determined than ever to go ahead.’

  ‘Then she can do it without you.’

  ‘I’d already half come to the same conclusion myself when Adrian made exactly the same request. It seemed uncanny, like an omen—’

  ‘Rubbish!’ Jim interrupted. His jaw was set, his eyes were hard with anger. She recognised that the anger was on her behalf, yet at the same time partly directed at her for so much as contemplating agreement. ‘I can confirm what he says about there being no call for a police investigation and he’s absolutely no right to expect you to go poking around to satisfy his totally unfounded suspicions. If he wants to pursue them he can do it himself.’

  ‘Cath won’t hear of his going near the place – she’s terrified he’ll make a fool of himself throwing wild accusations around. That’s why he’s asked me to do a spot of sleuthing for him.’

  ‘You’ll do nothing of the kind, do you hear me? If he wants to make a fool of himself, let him.’

  Sukey stared at him open-mouthed. Apart from an episode during the Dearley Manor investigation when he had expressly ordered her to stay away from the place, he had never before taken such an authoritative attitude. In that case, he had been acting in his official capacity with every right to issue the command, but this was different. The last thing she wanted was to fall out with him but, feeling her freedom to make her own decisions was under threat, she was impelled to make a stand.

  ‘I don’t like being told what I may or may not do in my own time,’ she said. She was aware that her voice was shaking with indignation and she gave a half smile in an attempt to rob the words of their sting.

  There was no answering smile. ‘Do I take it you’re seriously thinking of going along with this wild scheme?’ he demanded.

  ‘To be perfectly honest, I’m intrigued. From what I’ve seen there’s nothing in the least sinister about the place – quite the contrary. I can’t see that there’d be any harm in going along to one or two sessions, in fact, it might be quite interesting and if I can set two very distressed people’s minds at rest—’

  ‘I don’t like it,’ he said stubbornly. ‘Anyway, how do you plan to fit it in with your job? You’re not thinking of taking time off!’

  ‘No, as it happens I’m on late turn next week so I’ll have the mornings free.’

  ‘I’d be much happier if you’d forget all about it.’

  She went to him, put her arms round his neck and kissed him. ‘Let’s not talk about it any more now – don’t let it spoil our weekend,’ she said softly.

  He responded to her embrace, but he was evidently only partly mollified. ‘Just remember what I told you,’ he said.

  ‘I’ll remember.’ If he noticed the irony in her tone, he chose to ignore it.

  By tacit consent, the subject was dropped for the rest of the weekend. They spent Saturday morning in the garden, went to an open-air concert in a local park in the afternoon and watched a video in the evening. On Sunday, despite earlier forecasts of sunshine, the weather broke so they cancelled plans for a walk in the Cotswolds and went to an art exhibition instead. And each night they made love, the sheer joy of their shared passion driving away any lingering hint of discord. When it was time for Jim to go home, he drew her close, saying, ‘Thanks for a wonderful weekend.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered back.

  She was beginning to think there would be no further reference to RYCE, but with one hand on the latch of the front door, he said, ‘I hope I’m not going to hear any more about this crazy scheme you told me about earlier?’

  ‘Not another word,’ she promised.

  ‘That’s a good girl.’

  As she watched him drive away, she told herself that she hadn’t been telling a lie. After all, she had no intention of revealing the plan that had been slowly forming in her mind.

  Ten

  Shortly after Jim’s departure Sukey heard the sound of another car pulling up outside the house. The next minute she heard Fergus’s key in the door; without closing it behind him he came straight into the kitchen where she was rinsing milk bottles. Omitting his usual hug of greeting he said, a little breathlessly, ‘Mum, Dad’s waiting in the car – he’d like to come in and see you for a moment if that’s all right.’

  ‘What on earth does he want?’ Various possibilities flashed through Sukey’s mind, most of them concerned with money. The far from generous allowance he made for Fergus had from time to time been the cause of acrimonious exchanges. Her thoughts must have been reflected in her expression, prompting her son to say, ‘It’s nothing nasty, honest – on the contrary. He wants to tell you himself, though.’

  Seeing no reason to refuse, she said, ‘All right, ask him in.’ As long as he doesn’t stay too long, she added mentally. The weekend had been enjoyable enough and she was always happy in Jim’s company, but the pressure she had been under from three directions was beginning to take its toll. She went to the sink and filled the kettle. ‘I was just going to make some tea – I suppose I’d better offer him a cup.’

  ‘Why not? I’d like one as well. I’ll go and tell him it’s OK.’

  ‘You’d better show him into the sitting room.’

  ‘Right.’ As Fergus disappeared she began hastily plumping up cushions and tidying away scattered newspapers and magazines – almost, she reflected as she worked, as if she was trying to remove any obvious traces of Jim’s presence. Thinking about it later, she realised that it had been an automatic, unthinking reaction born of the desire to avoid giving Paul any reason to refer to the relationship. Even though he was aware of how things were between her and Jim, in her present state of mind she felt instinctively that to hear it referred to by her ex-husband, however casually, would in an indefinable away sully and diminish something precious.

  Having set the room to rights, she quickly glanced in the mirror above the mantelpiece. She patted her cheeks and smoothed into place the short curly hair that Jim had playfully ruffled as they said their goodnights, asking herself as s
he did so why it should matter how she appeared to Paul, yet not wanting him to think she was, as the saying went, ‘letting herself go’. She smiled at her reflection; the radiance that always remained after time spent with Jim was still there, masking the tiredness.

  There was a movement in the doorway and she turned to see him standing there, a little awkwardly, with their son beside him.

  For a long time their only contact had been by telephone or letter. She had not met him face to face since the occasion when, in response to a frantic telephone call and against Jim’s express instructions, she had gone to the holiday cottage on the Dearley Manor estate where he had taken refuge on the night of the brutal stabbing of Myrna, his second wife. Her reaction to his desperate plea for help had at the time been a mixture of contempt, revulsion and disbelief that she could once have been in love with this craven individual whom terror had stripped of all dignity. She recalled his dishevelled appearance, the new lines that the strain of a marriage already on the point of breaking down had etched on a face that was thinner, the skin less healthy, than she remembered. Tonight, the transformation came almost as a shock: he had put on weight, there was colour in his cheeks and a light in his eyes that reminded her for one poignant moment of their early years together.

  ‘Good evening, Susan,’ he said, and held out his hand. She took it almost reluctantly; it was the first physical contact between them since the day he left the home they had shared for over ten years.

  ‘Good evening, Paul.’ She gestured towards a chair. ‘Won’t you sit down?’ With the politeness he had always shown, he indicated that she should sit before accepting the invitation, but she remained standing. ‘I was just about to make some tea, I’ll be with you in a minute,’ she said.

  ‘You stay here and talk to Dad, I’ll make it,’ Fergus said and scuttled out of the room.

  ‘He’s a good kid,’ said Paul with a touch of pride and satisfaction.

  As if I needed you to tell me that, she thought. Aloud, she said, ‘I believe there’s something you want to tell me.’

  ‘Yes.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I dare say he’s mentioned I’ve been out a few times with a lady who works in my office?’

  ‘He did say something, yes. I was glad to hear you’ve started to get out and about a bit, after—’ She broke off abruptly; she had intended to avoid any reference to the tragedy, not because he had been mourning the loss of a beloved wife, which had been far from the case, but because it was difficult to forgive him for the strain her involvement in the police investigation that followed the murder had put on her relationship with Jim Castle. With a perceptiveness which surprised her, he said, ‘I know what you did to help me must have made things difficult for you.’

  ‘It did at the time, but it’s all right now.’

  ‘So I understand from Fergus. I’m glad.’

  ‘So what is it you want to tell me?’

  He appeared self-conscious; for a second, he reminded her of her son when, as a child, he had been on the point of confessing to some misdemeanour. Then he took a deep breath and the words came out in a rush. ‘Margaret and I are getting married in October. We’d like Fergus to be at our wedding. I… we hope you’ve no objection.’

  ‘Why should I object? If that’s what Fergus wants—’

  ‘He says he does, but he insists he won’t do anything to upset you.’ There was a hint of resentment in Paul’s voice, as if he was jealous of the lad’s devotion to his mother. Once again, Sukey experienced a stirring of the old bitterness at the callous way he had deserted them. It was only recently, as Fergus had approached manhood, that the father had begun making genuine efforts to build an enduring friendship with his son. Still, she told herself, it was better late than never; this was not the time to resurrect an old grudge.

  ‘I assure you, I won’t be the least upset. It’s good news – I hope you and Margaret will be very happy,’ she said sincerely. ‘Thank you.’ There was a pause before he added, ‘And I want you to know that I’ll continue to look after Fergus… financially, I mean.’

  ‘It didn’t occur to me that you’d do anything else.’ This time, she could not keep a caustic note from her voice. The way his lips tightened at the retort told her the shot had gone home.

  An uneasy silence was broken by Fergus appearing with a tray of tea. ‘What d’you think, Mum? Isn’t it brilliant? Aren’t you happy for Dad?’ His young face glowed with pleasure.

  ‘Of course I am.’ She handed Paul a cup of tea saying, ‘I’m afraid we haven’t any champagne to drink to you and Margaret, but congratulations anyway!’

  ‘Thank you.’

  The tea was consumed in what seemed to Sukey an artificial atmosphere of cordiality. She was thankful when Paul took his leave. As the door closed behind him and she locked it, shot the bolts and fastened the safety chain that Jim insisted on, she had an irrational sensation of symbolically erecting a barrier between herself and a period in her life which still had the power to unsettle and disturb her. Since the moment when she and Jim had become lovers it had never occurred to her that she was still in some way a prisoner of those years of struggle and disillusion. The surprising thought flashed into her mind that a few ‘touchy-feely’ sessions with Jennifer at the RYCE Foundation might have a therapeutic effect, despite her being there for a totally different purpose.

  Fergus was in the kitchen, rinsing out the teacups. ‘Did you tell Jim about Jennifer and Adrian?’ he asked.

  ‘You mean, about their asking me to investigate RYCE? Yes, I told him.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘What do you think? He nearly went ballistic, practically forbade me to have anything to do with it.’

  ‘Does that mean you’re not going to do it?’

  ‘I still haven’t quite decided, but his attitude really put my back up. We’d already talked about the situation at some length but I didn’t say what I’d been asked to do because I knew how he’d react. Then Jennifer rang at the wrong moment, he heard my end of the conversation and I couldn’t get out of telling him.’

  ‘So what are you going to do?’

  ‘I’m going to try and stall Jennifer for a day or two while I do a little preliminary nosing around. I don’t think Adrian will be a problem – I’ll have to tell him anyway, because I need his help.’

  Fergus listened while she told him what she had in mind. His face lit up in admiration. ‘Gosh, Mum, that’s a brilliant scheme!’ he said.

  ‘I know!’ she sighed. ‘It’s just natural genius!’

  ‘And so modest,’ he laughed, and then grew serious again. ‘You won’t let this business screw things up with Jim, will you?’

  ‘Not if I can help it.’ For the moment, keeping her right to make her own decisions was uppermost in her mind.

  They finished tidying up and went upstairs to bed. Sukey, having determinedly dismissed everything to do with RYCE from her thoughts, lay awake for a while reliving some of the rapturous highlights of the weekend before falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.

  ‘Don’t tell me you can’t make it today, I couldn’t bear it,’ said George Barnes when Sukey called him early the following morning.

  ‘Why, what’s up?’

  ‘I’m one short already. Mandy’s mother’s been rushed to hospital—’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s all right, I’ll be with you later. I’m just calling to ask who in uniform handled the Millings case – you know, the missing lawnmowers.’

  ‘I think it was PC Grey. Why d’you want to know?’

  ‘Just curious. Can you transfer me?’

  ‘I’ll try. He might not be on duty this morning.’

  She was in luck. PC Grey was not only at the station, but he was able to give her the information she sought. Next, she called Adrian Masters. An hour later she was on her way to Burwell Farm. Serena had just opened the office and she looked a shade taken aback as Sukey entered. ‘I didn’t expect to see you again,’ she said.

  �
��I happened to have a job in the area this morning, so I just popped in to let you know that the police recovered your motor mower—’ Sukey began, but Serena interrupted.

  ‘Yes, I know, we had a phone call from the police late yesterday afternoon. They said we couldn’t have it back right away, though, they need it as evidence. Jarvis wasn’t best pleased to hear that.’

  ‘Oh.’ Sukey was thrown for the moment. Her intention had been to ask if Jarvis was there so that she could break the news to him, in order to give herself the excuse that she needed. Instead, she thought quickly on her feet. ‘While I’m here, would you mind if I had a word with Mr Jarvis? I’ve got a clematis that’s looking a bit sick and I’d like to ask his advice.’

  Serena looked slightly surprised, but said, ‘No problem. You know where to find him.’

  When Sukey showed the gardener the photograph that Adrian had lent her, he said without hesitation, ‘That’s the lady.’

  ‘And you said she came out of the Rejuvenation Suite in a great hurry, looking upset and anxious?’

  ‘That’s right. Dunno what goes on in there,’ he added with a grin. ‘Can’t say the poor lady looked particularly rejuvenated – maybe the treatment just didn’t agree with her.’

  ‘Perhaps not. Thank you anyway. Oh, by the way’ – Sukey suddenly remembered the excuse she had given Serena – ‘I’ve got a clematis that’s not doing very well and I wondered…’ Clematis was evidently one of Jarvis’s favourite plants and it was a considerable time before she was able to make her escape without appearing rude.

  Before leaving, she paid another visit to the office. Serena was reaching for the telephone as she entered; her expressive features registered a momentary hint of impatience before it was replaced by the familiar professional smile. With her hand still hovering over the instrument, she said, ‘Was Jarvis able to help?’

  ‘I’ll say he was. I’ve learned more about clematis than I realised there was to know – they’re obviously one of his passions.’ Sukey went to the door as if on the point of leaving and then, as if she had only just remembered, turned back and said, ‘Wasn’t it sad about poor Vera Masters?’