‘Why not?’ Tanika asked.
‘Well, what was Elliot doing down at that end of the garden? And why did Stefan agree to join him there? It seems odd when you think about it. Anyway, for whatever reason, Elliot and Stefan were down at that end of the garden when Elliot shot Stefan dead. He’s finally free to steal the frame, but the absolute last thing he expects happens. He hears a woman’s voice call out.’
‘Really?’ Becks asked, eyes wide, lost in the story.
‘That’s right. From the river.’
Becks was hanging on Judith’s every word.
‘And who was that?’
‘It was me!’
It took a moment for the penny to drop.
‘Of course it was you! You were out swimming! Sorry. I’m so thick sometimes.’
‘You’re not thick,’ Judith said to Becks before getting back to her story. ‘And I bet Elliot panicked when I called out. With a witness possibly about to haul herself out of the water to see what was going on, he no doubt shelved his plans to break into Stefan’s house. For a second time. And instead he legged it. After all, you don’t want to be found breaking into someone’s house while the dead body of the man you just killed is in the garden, do you?
‘But it left Elliot with the same problem he’d always had. The picture frame that had started all of this off, the very thing he’d originally broken into the house to get, that he’d been prepared to commit murder over, was still hanging on Stefan’s wall. So he had to leave it a few days for the heat to die down, and then he made his third attempt to break into Stefan’s house, stupid man. This evening. But this time, although I nearly managed to stop him, he finally got what he’d always wanted. The frame.’
‘But how can a picture frame be that important?’ Becks asked. ‘Why would it be worth killing over?’
‘I’ve no idea. But if we can find the frame, I’m sure we’ll be able to work it out.’
‘Well, I’ll tell you this much,’ Tanika said. ‘It’s an impressive theory.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Except for one small detail,’ she added. ‘When you say you heard Elliot Howard shoot Stefan dead, he was at choir practice in All Saints’ Church in front of at least twenty other witnesses.’
‘Including me,’ Becks said apologetically. ‘And there’s also CCTV footage of him at the practice,’ she offered to Tanika. ‘He very definitely was at All Saints’ the whole time.’
‘But you’ve seen the look he gives the camera at the end!’ Judith said in frustration. ‘He’s smug, he’s superior.’
‘All of which I’d say he is naturally,’ Tanika said. ‘And I can tell you, we’ve found no link between Elliot and Iqbal Kassam, none at all.’
‘But Elliot has to be our killer. Because if he isn’t, then who is?’
Neither Tanika nor Becks had an answer to that.
Chapter 14
Two police cars arrived and Tanika was soon leading her team in processing the scene of the break-in. Judith and Becks gave their formal statements and found themselves leaving Stefan’s house at the same time.
‘You can’t possibly punt back home,’ Becks said to Judith. ‘Not with an injured wrist.’
‘Don’t worry about the wrist, it’s feeling better already.’
‘Even so, let me give you a lift home. You can return and pick up your punt tomorrow.’
‘Actually, that would be very kind of you. Thank you.’
‘Hop in,’ Becks said, opening the passenger door to her gleamingly white 4x4. It was such a massive machine that Judith had to pull herself up to get into it. Why on earth did Home County housewives drive such monsters, Judith asked herself as Becks climbed in on her side.
A few minutes later, Becks was crossing the suspension bridge and turning down Ferry Lane, the single-track road on the Bisham side of the river that led to Judith’s house.
‘You must pop in for a quick drink when we get there,’ Judith said.
‘What a lovely idea,’ Becks said with a sincerity that was entirely false, ‘but I’ll drop you off and head home if that’s okay. It’s late.’
‘Nonsense! You’ve had a shock. We both have. You’re coming in for a stiff drink.’
‘Colin needs me at home.’
‘Why?’ Judith asked bluntly.
‘Well, he works so hard during the day—’
‘As I’m sure you do,’ Judith said, interrupting. ‘Has he rung you?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think so.’
‘So we can assume he’s fine.’
‘Even so,’ Becks said, trying to articulate why it was so important that she be at home for her husband. It was something to do with the fact that, since she didn’t work outside the home, she felt a sense of duty to be there for Colin. And something to do with a sense of guilt that she didn’t have a ‘proper’ career, so she had to be the best, most perfect, housewife, in order to feel a sense of worth. It was also, she knew, at a far more humdrum level, simply a habit she’d got into. But how could she even begin to put these half thoughts into words?
‘… he needs me,’ she eventually offered.
‘You have needs as well,’ Judith said as Becks drove up to Judith’s house and parked by the front door.
There was a grey van outside the house that hadn’t been there before.
As they got out of the vehicle, Judith saw the dog walker Suzie Harris looking in through a downstairs window.
‘Excuse me?’ Judith asked in her most matronly voice.
‘Oh, there you are!’ Suzie said, entirely unfazed at having been caught snooping. ‘Just trying to see in through your windows.’
‘What on earth are you doing here?’
‘No, good question,’ she agreed.
Judith waited and realised that Suzie had come to one of her halts.
‘And the answer is …?’
‘Oh, right! Well, I’ve got a favour to ask. About Iqbal. And I was taking Emma for a late-night walk anyway, so I thought I’d knock on your door. See if you were in.’
‘And when I wasn’t?’
‘I thought I’d look in through your window. It’s like I told you, I’ve always wanted to see inside your house.’
Suzie was being so very matter-of-fact about her motives that Judith couldn’t help herself and laughed, all offence forgotten.
‘Who’s Iqbal?’ Becks asked.
‘Sorry,’ Judith said, turning to include Becks. ‘I should introduce you both. Becks, this is Suzie Harris.’
‘I’m actually Rebecca,’ Becks said, offering her hand. ‘Although no one calls me that apart from my mother.’
‘Look, why don’t you both come in?’ Judith said. ‘It’s been a long day, and I could do with taking the weight off my feet.’
‘I can have a look inside?’ Suzie asked.
Judith smiled. ‘Yes, you can come inside.’
Judith unlocked the front door, opened it and ushered Suzie in.
Becks still hovered on the doorstep.
‘I don’t think I can spare the time,’ she said.
‘Just one drink, and then I’ll let you get on your way. Come on, think what we’ve been through tonight, we’ve earned it.’
Becks realised it would almost certainly take longer to convince Judith that she had to leave than it would to have the quickest of quick drinks and then depart.
‘Okay,’ she said with her best vicar’s wife’s smile. ‘If you insist. One small drink, then I’ll be on my way.’
‘Bravo!’
Following Becks inside, Judith found Suzie standing by the grand piano, agog.
‘Bloody hell, you must be minted,’ she said.
‘I think you can guess from the state of the fabric that I’m not, as you say, “minted”,’ Judith said with a laugh as she went over to her drinks table and blew dust out of two extra cut-glass tumblers, lined them up with her regular glass, and poured three stiff measures of whisky.
‘Even so, this house must be worth
millions.’
Judith couldn’t help but find Suzie’s manner a breath of fresh air.
‘I’ve no idea what it’s worth,’ she said, heading over with two drinks. ‘I inherited it from my great aunt.’
‘Didn’t she have any children of her own?’
‘Fortunately for me, no. She never married. So I was like the daughter she never had. Now, I strongly suggest you have these,’ Judith said, holding up the two glasses.
‘Is that whisky?’ Becks asked, her forehead creasing.
‘I think, when it’s as cheap as this, it’s better to call it “Scotch”.’
‘Oh well, thank you, but I’d rather have a glass of water. Or herbal tea if you have any. At this time of night.’
‘I think we can agree we need something a bit stiffer than tea.’
‘I’m with you there,’ Suzie said, taking the glass and knocking it back in one, wincing as the drink burnt into her chest, and then she smiled.
‘Now that hits the spot,’ she said in appreciation.
While Suzie went over to the sideboard to return the glass, Becks finally took a tiny sip from her glass before rubbing at her lips with her fingers.
‘It’s better if you don’t let it touch your lips,’ Judith said. ‘It stings less.’
‘Sorry, is your toilet through here?’ Suzie said, indicating the oak door to the side of the drinks table.
Before Judith could stop her, Suzie tried to push the door open, but it was locked.
‘That door’s locked,’ Judith said with a polite smile.
‘Why?’ Suzie said, laughing. ‘Is that where you keep the dead bodies?’
Judith’s smile froze and Suzie’s eyes widened in surprise. How come her joke had spooked Judith? As for Becks, being the vicar’s wife, she was a past master at saving awkward situations.
‘You were telling us about Iqbal,’ she said to Suzie. ‘Was he the poor man who was murdered?’
‘He sure was,’ Suzie said.
As Suzie filled Becks in on how she knew Iqbal, Judith went over to the sideboard, downed her drink and poured herself another. When the women weren’t looking, she touched the silver chain around her neck with the key on the end. It was still there. Still safe. As Suzie finished telling her story, Judith put on a smile and went over to join the other two.
‘And he was shot dead?’ Becks asked, still trying to process what she’d heard.
‘I know,’ Suzie said. ‘Crazy. But the thing is, Judith here came and found me because she thinks Iqbal’s murder is connected to the death of her neighbour.’
‘It must be,’ Judith said. ‘Murders don’t happen in Marlow. If two happen in the space of three days, they have to be linked.’
‘I reckon you’re right,’ Suzie said. ‘It’s the reason I wanted to speak to you. You see, Iqbal’s imam rang me this afternoon. He said he was putting together the funeral arrangements, and the police gave him my number. Did I know how to contact Iqbal’s family?’
‘And do you?’ Becks asked.
‘No. Whenever I asked him about his family, he said he didn’t have any, and then he’d change the subject. He was much happier talking about boats.’
‘Boats?’ Becks asked.
‘God, yes, they were his passion. Once he got going on the subject, there was no stopping him. He was saving up to buy his own boat that he could keep on the river in Marlow. His dream was to do all of the waterways of the UK. But the point is, the imam said Iqbal didn’t attend his mosque that much, so he didn’t have any friends there. In fact, I was about the only person he could find who he could invite to the funeral. So would I come?’
‘And what did you say to that?’ Becks asked.
‘I said I’d go, it’s the least I can do. Iqbal was my friend. But it’s not good that no one else will be there, so I was wondering,’ Suzie said, turning to Judith, ‘would you come as well?’
‘To Iqbal’s funeral?’
‘Seeing as you think his death may be connected to your neighbour’s. Maybe someone will turn up out of the woodwork like a long-lost sister or something. It’ll give you a chance to have a poke around. And anyway, the more the merrier, I say, when it comes to funerals.’
‘You do?’ Judith asked, tickled by Suzie’s turn of phrase.
‘Of course! I’ve never been to a bad funeral, have you?’
‘I don’t suppose I have,’ Judith said, after a moment’s thought. ‘And thank you very much for the invitation. You’re right, no one should be buried on their own. I’d be delighted to come along.’
‘Well, that’s that sorted then, isn’t it?’ Suzie said. ‘At least there’ll be two people at his service.’
‘I wouldn’t worry too much about no one being there,’ Becks said. ‘Men from the mosque will be expected to attend the service, even if they didn’t know him. Was this Imam Latif who called you?’
‘It was,’ Suzie said. ‘You know him?’
‘Only a bit. We do a food bank together on Thursday mornings. I have to say, he’s lovely.’
Judith was impressed with how easily Becks talked about working in the local food bank with the imam of a local mosque. Maybe she’d been wrong when she judged her as solely being a gilet-and-jeggings Marlow clone.
In fact, as she looked at the two other women, Judith realised she was having more fun than she’d had in a long time and decided that she didn’t want the evening to end yet.
‘I’ll come to the funeral on one condition,’ she said to Suzie with a smile. ‘I’d like you to help me for the next half an hour or so.’
‘Doing what?’ Suzie asked.
‘Don’t worry, it’s nothing strenuous. But I want to see if we can work out the importance of a painting Stefan Dunwoody bought from Elliot Howard’s gallery back in 1988.’
‘And how can we do that?’
‘Well, I suggest we pour ourselves a small glass of whisky and see what we can dig up on the internet. What do you say?’
Suzie didn’t want to seem like too much of a pushover.
‘I can’t leave Emma on her own in the van.’
‘Then bring her in.’
‘All right. You’ve got a deal.’
Judith and Suzie looked at Becks, but she was just smiling soupily, no doubt from the whisky, Judith guessed. Good for her, she thought to herself. She deserved to let her hair down.
‘So that’s a yes from all of us,’ Judith said, grinning. ‘Then I suggest, ladies, we get to work.’
Chapter 15
The women were looking at their devices, Judith in her favourite wingback, Becks sitting upright at the card table, and Suzie lolling like the Queen of Sheba on some cushions in the bay window, Emma lying at her feet, her head on her paws, eyes closed in sleep. Every now and then one of the women would take a sip of whisky, or make a passing comment about their research, or ask a question of the others. It was companionable, collegiate, and, in truth, all of them were having a terrific time.
‘So do you have any kids?’ Becks asked Suzie.
‘I’ve got the two best kids in the world,’ Suzie said, smiling.
‘Tell me about them.’
‘Well, they’re in their twenties now. Rachel is twenty-two, lives in Newcastle with her girlfriend. And Amy is twenty-five, married, has a kid of her own.’
‘You’re a grandmother!’
‘I am,’ Suzie said proudly.
‘How wonderful. Do you have a partner?’
‘Ha!’ Suzie said. ‘There used to be. But he left me after Rachel was born.’
‘After your second was born?’
‘The same month. He said it was too much for him.’
‘You raised your two on your own?’
‘I did.’
‘That must have been tough. What about other family? Does your mum live nearby?’
‘My parents died when I was small. Like Iqbal. We had that in common.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear that. What about cousins or aunts or uncles?’
> Suzie took a sip of Scotch before replying.
‘No. No family to speak of. This really is a horrible drink,’ she said to Judith with a smile that Becks could see was a touch forced.
‘It’s the nectar of the gods,’ Judith said before returning her attention to her tablet.
‘Haven’t you got any wine?’
‘Sorry, I can’t have wine in the house.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘If I do, I drink it.’
Suzie and Becks shared a glance as they looked over at the all but empty decanter of whisky. If this was how Judith downed whisky, what on earth did she do to wine?
‘Then what about you, Judith?’ Becks asked, her cheeks radiating a warm glow from the Scotch. ‘Do you have any kids?’
‘Oh no, I wasn’t so blessed.’
‘But you’re married?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘If it’s not rude to ask. I see you’ve got a wedding ring.’
Becks indicated the gold band on the ring finger of Judith’s left hand.
‘You’re very observant.’
‘Sorry. Occupational hazard. When you’re the vicar’s wife, you notice things like wedding rings.’
‘If you must know, my husband died,’ Judith said.
‘He did?’
‘My lovely Philippos. He was Greek. Philippos Demetriou. I fell in love with his name before I’d even met him. But he died in a boating accident. In Corfu.’
‘I’m so sorry. When did this happen?’
‘I was twenty-seven. Now, I think I’ve found something rather interesting,’ Judith said, wanting to move the conversation on.
‘Hold on,’ Suzie said. ‘You were widowed when you were twenty-seven? Has there been anyone else since then?’
‘Why would there be? Most men you meet don’t really pass muster, do they?’
‘I can drink to that,’ Suzie said quietly, or at least Judith presumed it had been Suzie who’d spoken, but she realised that Suzie’s lips hadn’t moved. She and Suzie looked over and they saw that Becks was raising her whisky glass in a quiet toast before she downed the remainder of her drink.
The Marlow Murder Club Page 10