Married Lies (Reissue)

by Chris Collett

‘I’ll keep in touch,’ Hudson said, and concluded the call.

  When she’d rung off, Mariner called Rachel Hordern. ‘Have you scattered your mother’s ashes yet?’ he asked.

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘We need to test a sample from them, if you wouldn’t mind.’

  Rachel Hordern’s tone was immediately suspicious. ‘What for?’

  ‘You told us that Nina had been suffering with her health in the months before she died,’ Mariner recalled. ‘We have reason to think she was being poisoned.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘We don’t, for certain, that’s why we need the sample.’

  ‘But my mother lived alone. Who could have done that?’

  ‘We’re keeping an open mind,’ said Mariner, diplomatically. No reason to tell Rachel that she remained a person of interest, at least not until after they had secured her cooperation. ‘It’s possible that the poison was added to the milk. How did your mother buy her milk?’

  ‘She still had a milkman delivering, the same one she’d had for years. Why on earth would he want to poison my mother?’

  ‘I’ll send over an officer to collect the sample,’ Mariner said. ‘Thank you for your help, Mrs Hordern.’ And he rang off.

  * * *

  Calling in Millie and Tony Knox, Mariner brought them up to date on what Hudson had told him.

  ‘It has to be Will,’ Millie said, straight away. ‘No one else would have had access to the fridge.’

  ‘He’d have to have been careful not to drink it himself,’ Knox pointed out.

  But Millie had the answer. ‘He’s lactose intolerant,’ she said. ‘Lucy told me. The wedding organizers had to accommodate that when they planned the wedding breakfast.’

  ‘Well, that certainly makes a perfect fit,’ Mariner agreed.

  ‘And it must take Bonnington out of the equation,’ added Knox. ‘He wouldn’t be in a position to do it.’

  ‘Are we sure about that?’ Mariner was reluctant to rule him out completely. ‘Is there any way he could have got hold of a key? Lucy isn’t one of these people who keeps a spare under the doormat is she?’

  ‘I can’t imagine so,’ Millie said. ‘Especially lately, when she’s been so nervy anyway. But I can find out.’

  ‘So unless Bonnington took a bottle, and removed and replaced a bottle top without anyone noticing—’

  ‘It wouldn’t be impossible though, would it?’ said Knox suddenly.

  ‘Christ, if you’re right that would open it right up again,’ said Mariner. ‘It could be anyone: Kerrigan, Hughes, Sally Frick. We need to find out for sure. Does milk get delivered here, to the station?’

  It took time, but eventually Mariner was able to track down a bottled pint of milk and have it sent up to his office. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Who wants to give it a go?’

  ‘No good asking me,’ Knox grumbled. ‘I’m ham-fisted at the best of times.’

  ‘Here, I’ll try.’ Millie came forward and, sliding a thumbnail under the foil top, worked her way around the rim, loosening the skirt, and successfully removed it intact. Replacing it was easier, though it was by no means as snug a fit as before.

  ‘It could be done,’ Millie said. ‘But you’d have to do it carefully, and it’s not going to look perfect afterwards.’

  ‘Would you notice, though, if you had no reason to suspect that the milk is being tampered with?’

  Knox regarded it sceptically. ‘I think you would,’ he said.

  Millie nodded reluctantly, ‘Yeah, I think Tony’s right.’

  ‘—which means it has to be Jarrett,’ concluded Mariner.

  ‘But what about Nina?’ said Millie. ‘Will doesn’t appear to even know her.’

  ‘I’ve made an assumption that Nina was being poisoned in the same way,’ Mariner pointed out. ‘But we won’t know for sure until the tests on her ashes have been done. And none of this explains Nina’s mystery caller, nor Bonnington’s fingerprint on the wine bottle.’

  Knox shook his head slowly. ‘If it is Bonnington, I can’t believe that Nina’s friends haven’t heard of him, or her stepdaughter for that matter.’

  ‘Which brings us to Rachel herself,’ Mariner said. ‘According to the neighbour she visits her mother every couple of weeks. Given that Nina’s symptoms sound less severe, if she was being poisoned, it’s possible that her stepdaughter could have been tampering with the milk. She’s agreed to give us a sample of the ashes, but she wasn’t happy about it.’

  ‘This is beginning to look like a conspiracy,’ said Knox.

  ‘Among total strangers, though?’ Millie said ‘That just doesn’t make sense.’

  * * *

  They were interrupted from further speculation by Mariner’s phone. It was Gail Hudson again. Mariner put the machine on speaker phone; they all needed to hear.

  ‘Thought you might like to know, we’ve determined how the thallium was added to the milk,’ Hudson said. ‘Examination of the bottle top exposed a tiny puncture mark the size of a needle, so my guess is that it was injected into the bottles with a syringe.’

  ‘Which means that it could have been added any time after the milk was bottled,’ Mariner said.

  Hudson concurred. ‘Both women were taking doorstep deliveries from dairies, but we’ve established that they were two different ones, so I doubt that the source goes that far back. You’re looking at someone doing this after the bottles have been left on the doorstep.’

  ‘Bugger, so now it could be anyone,’ said Knox, when Hudson had rung off.

  Mariner nodded in agreement. ‘Injecting the thallium wouldn’t be that difficult, if you picked your moment. Holding the syringe in your hand — maybe concealed in a pocket — you walk up to the step, stick in the needle, squeeze out the contents and walk away. The whole operation could be undertaken within half a minute, and we’ve already seen that Lucy Jarrett’s ground floor is pretty well concealed by the shrubs in the garden.’

  ‘The milk would be left early in the morning before many other people are around, too,’ Millie pointed out. ‘Depending when Nina and Lucy are up and about, there could be a window of at least a couple of hours when the milk is sitting there just waiting to be doctored.’

  ‘Easy to invent a cover story too,’ said Knox. ‘Like, putting something through the door on the way to work.’

  ‘Pity there’s no CCTV in either of those areas,’ said Mariner.

  ‘And does this make Bonnington the favourite again?’ Knox wondered.

  ‘It must do,’ said Millie. ‘He’s the one we’ve got most evidence against, and he’s the handiest for Lucy.’

  ‘Although realistically the milk tampering could have been done by any of them — Rachel Hordern, Susan Brady, Kerrigan, the Hughes family,’ Mariner reminded her.

  ‘Bonnington’s the strongest though.’

  ‘But apart from that fingerprint, we still don’t have anything to connect him to Nina Silvero,’ Knox pointed out. ‘Or to give us a motive for her.’

  ‘So we should let him go?’ Millie said.

  ‘All in good time,’ Mariner said. ‘There’s something we’re missing here.’

  ‘Why don’t we look at it the other way round,’ said Knox. ‘The only person who really fits the stalking scenario, is someone out for revenge. Who is it that Lucy and Nina both managed to piss off?’

  Millie snorted. ‘That’s a great question when we can’t even find any common ground between them. Both Lucy and Rachel Hordern went to independent schools but not the same one. Paul Copeland and Ronnie Silvero were both in the Masons but not in the same lodge. They both worked on the Hughes case, but not at the same time.’

  ‘And as far as we know Paul Copeland did nothing to upset the Hughes family,’ said Mariner.

  ‘They’re both prematurely dead,’ Knox offered.

  ‘But for different and transparently non-suspicious reasons. Anything come of the list of parents from the dancing school?’

  ‘Nothing that I
could find,’ said Knox. ‘The ones I’ve spoken to all seem pretty shocked by what’s happened.’

  ‘Lucy Jarrett definitely wasn’t involved in that?’ Mariner asked Millie.

  ‘No. She was a cheerleader at school but she never had any formal dancing lessons.’

  They all sat for a moment, each lost in thought, trying to find a way out of the conundrum.

  ‘What we need to do is catch the poisoner in the act,’ said Millie, suddenly. ‘So far the only one of our suspects who knows Lucy is in hospital is Will, and it seems to me that we’ve more or less ruled him out now.’ She looked to Mariner for affirmation. ‘So why can’t we have a female officer return home with Will as a decoy? It would send the message that Lucy’s also gone home and everything’s back to normal. Meanwhile we put surveillance in place and wait until the poisoner strikes again. Dr Hudson said that it’s probably a weekly occurrence, so it wouldn’t have to go on for ever.’

  ‘It’s a bit close to Bonnington. What if he runs into our decoy, or the surveillance?’ Knox said.

  ‘Maybe we don’t even need the decoy,’ Mariner said. ‘We still have Bonnington here. All we need to do is get Lucy’s car back on the drive, and if Will draws the upstairs curtains, it will give the impression that Lucy’s ill in bed, which is the line he can give if anyone asks. Whoever is doing the poisoning would expect that, after all. Once that’s set up, we can let Bonnington go.’ He had been about to dismiss the idea as far-fetched but the more Mariner thought about it, the more sense it seemed to make. It was frighteningly simple.

  ‘I still think we should go with the decoy,’ said Millie. ‘We’re not certain that it’s Bonnington, so we don’t know who else might be watching the house.’ It was a fair point.

  ‘Tony?’

  ‘It’d be easy enough to do,’ Knox said. ‘I think it’s not a bad idea.’

  ‘Okay then. Millie, you contact Will and explain what’s going on. He needs to get his story straight from the outset. Tony, get in touch with the dairy and check the timing of the deliveries.’ Now all Mariner had to do was sell it to the DCI.

  ‘We’re going round in circles with everything else,’ Mariner told Sharp a little later. ‘This would be a way of settling it quickly and decisively.’

  ‘What would it involve?’ Sharp was understandably dubious; she was thinking of the budget.

  ‘Martin Bonnington is still one of our suspects,’ Mariner said. ‘So when we let him go we’ll send Will home in Lucy’s car with our decoy; a female officer with some resemblance to Lucy. Once in the house, Will closes the bedroom curtains and the story is that Lucy has gone down with a bug and is ill in bed. The decoy can either sit it out or leave the house at an appropriate time under cover of darkness. DS Knox has checked the milk delivery time, which is between three and four, Monday to Friday, so all we need then is surveillance on the front of Lucy’s house during that time, along with a couple of officers on the ground to make an arrest. We’d start in the early hours of Monday morning.’

  ‘There’s going to be a lot of movement,’ Sharp said. ‘Are you sure you can keep this covert?’

  ‘It’s small-scale,’ Mariner said. ‘As long as we’re observant and we use the opportunities presented by visitors to the house, I think we can handle it, ma’am. Meanwhile we keep following up the other leads, and if nothing has happened within the week, we call it off.’ Mariner knew that the prospect of it being a short-term surveillance would make it a more attractive proposition, and Sharp took the bait.

  ‘Okay. If you can find a suitable officer to pose as Lucy you can give it a go. But only for a week, and then we review it.’

  The first thing to do was to release Martin Bonnington, who was clearly bemused about what was going on. Millie had already identified an officer, and PC Jodie Ryan was a willing volunteer. Friday was spent briefing her, after which she and Will returned to Hill Crest, in Lucy’s car. The surveillance team of two uniformed officers, rostered in with Millie, Knox, Charlie Glover and Mariner from CID, would arrive at the house each evening, under cover of darkness. For now, Lucy Jarrett was safe, and at the end of Friday, Mariner suggested that they all take the weekend off and prepare for a busy week.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mariner’s first task on Saturday morning was to collect his new glasses. They were fine; basic wire frames, though they made him look older, he thought, and increased his resemblance to his late father. Now he’d just have to get into the habit of wearing them. Already he could anticipate the piss-taking in the station on Monday morning.

  They were tucked in his pocket as he walked back up Corporation Street, and without them he almost made his usual old mistake. The woman up ahead of him looked from the back exactly like Anna. Same build, same hair style and colour. But this time he wasn’t about to make an arse of himself. Allowing himself a smile, he turned to note the traffic prior to crossing the road, when a voice from behind halted him.

  ‘Tom?’ She had turned and was looking right at him. Christ, it was Anna. And she looked so happy to see him. He thought his heart would explode from his chest. ‘How are you?’ she was asking.

  ‘I’m . . . fine.’ Recovering from the shock, Mariner stepped nearer, fighting the urge to throw his arms round her. ‘What are you doing here?’

  She inclined her head towards the department store behind them. ‘Got a meeting with the wedding planner,’ she smiled.

  Mariner’s smile remained fixed in place. His facial muscles seemed to have frozen. ‘Wow. Congratulations,’ he managed to say.

  ‘Oh God, not for us!’ Anna shrieked, playfully smacking his arm. ‘That would be a bit premature. It’s for Charles and Lottie, you remember them? Lottie wanted some support so I agreed to come, but this is clearly the season to arrange weddings because so far all we’ve done is to wait in a massive queue, so I’ve popped out to do a couple of things, while Charles is being measured for his suit.’

  ‘Have you got time for coffee or something then?’ Mariner asked, weak with delight.

  ‘Yeah, I probably could steal away for a few minutes. Let me just text Lottie to let her know.’ Then she tucked her arm into his as they walked.

  They ended up at one of the many new eating places in the Bullring and sat overlooking the concourse that led down to St Martin’s church; two cappuccinos between them. It was just metres from here that they’d both been caught in an explosion that had ripped through the church, nearly eighteen months before. Mariner wondered if she’d thought about that. ‘How long have you got?’ he asked.

  ‘Hours, I would think. I know what these wedding people are like. They’ll want to know the ins and outs of—’

  ‘—the cat’s behind,’ said Mariner finishing off one of her favourite expressions. He felt heady from the sight of her and the faint smell of her perfume and had to restrain himself from touching her. ‘I was gutted for a minute there you know, when I thought it was you and Gareth,’ he said instead.

  Anna smiled. ‘I could see that. You haven’t got any better at concealing your emotions.’

  ‘So, how’s it going, the two of you?’ The words almost choked him.

  ‘It’s fine.’ Picking up her spoon she skimmed a little froth off her coffee, unable to quite meet Mariner’s eye. ‘We’re um . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We’re taking it slowly, you know?’ her reply was careful, measured.

  Mariner was euphoric, and for several seconds he had the wild idea of suggesting they get a room in a hotel. ‘How’s Jamie?’ he asked to distract himself from that thought.

  ‘He’s great, doing really well,’ she said. ‘I mean, he’s still autistic, and he still can’t do much for himself, but it was the right thing to move him out to Towyn. The farm community suits him; he’s strong and healthy, and I think he’s happy.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ Mariner said, truthfully, even though it had helped to take her away from him. He knew that Anna had struggled to do the right thing by her younger brot
her.

  ‘How’s all the Granville Lane gang?’ she asked.

  ‘Tony Knox is still seeing his science teacher, Millie is loving married life. The DCI just got engaged.’

  ‘And Katarina?’

  ‘Even she’s got a bloke,’ Mariner said, ruefully. ‘It’s just me who’s Billy No-Mates.’

  She laughed. ‘Poor old you. My heart bleeds. What about Stephanie? Isn’t that her name? That sounds serious.’

  Mariner was momentarily speechless. ‘What do you know about her?’

  ‘She called me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She rang me, about a week ago, on my mobile. She said that you and she were going out, she’d realised that I was important to you, and wanted to know just how important. I did think it was a bit strange, but understandable, I suppose.’

  ‘She must have picked up your number from my mobile! I thought I was losing my marbles, because she mentioned your name and I felt sure that I hadn’t talked to her about you. What did you tell her?’

  ‘The truth,’ Anna said, with a shrug. ‘That we were an item, but that now I’m with someone else. She seemed satisfied with that. Is it? Serious?’

  ‘No! It’s nothing, it’s finished, I mean, it never was anything; one night plus her imagination,’ Mariner babbled on.

  Anna laughed again.

  ‘I really miss you,’ Mariner said, his voice catching. ‘I fucked up so badly.’

  ‘You did,’ she said, holding his gaze. ‘Still, now we’ve both moved on. And who knows how long it would have lasted anyway? Maybe it was for the best.’

  Maybe? ‘What if—?’

  Anna checked her watch. ‘God, I should get back to Lottie,’ she said, gathering her bags. ‘She’ll think I’ve abandoned her.’

  Reluctantly Mariner walked her back to the spot where they’d met.

  ‘It’s been great to see you.’ Stretching up to kiss his cheek, she rubbed his arm affectionately, her touch lingering, Mariner thought, for a moment longer than necessary. ‘Take care, eh?’

  ‘You too.’ It was the most he could manage.

  ‘Bye.’

  Mariner watched her disappear through the glass swing doors and into the store. She didn’t look back, but nonetheless he felt a sudden surge of optimism.