‘Just a chat,’ Tremayne said. ‘The village is quiet, as though everything is as it should be.’
‘It is,’ Callum replied.
‘Has everyone forgotten about Old Ted?’
‘Not forgotten, moved on. In Coombe, everything moves slowly, and Old Ted, he was an easy man to forget.’
‘What do you mean?’ Clare said.
‘He was that sort of person. Born and bred in Coombe, but when you think back to him, what do you remember?’
‘A man in his seventies, unable to retire, kept to himself, never spoke unless spoken to.’
‘That’s it. There’s nothing left to remind us of him, and even his cottage doesn’t look the same since Mrs Selwood moved in and fixed it up.’
‘There was something,’ Tremayne said. ‘And whatever it was, he was murdered.’
Clare picked up a brush and started to brush Napoleon. Tremayne looked over at her, realised that she wanted him to go away. He took the hint and went outside of the stables, taking a cigarette from a packet at the same time.
Clare stopped giving attention to the horse and turned to the farmhand. ‘Callum, you’re not levelling with us. What’s the truth about Old Ted?’
‘I don’t know what you mean. Old Ted minded his business, the same as I do.’
‘And he was murdered for knowing nothing. Maybe you’ll be shot for minding your own business as well. Have you considered that?’
‘Old Mr Selwood, sometimes he used to play up.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘When he was younger, he used to mess around with another woman.’
‘Who?’
‘Old Ted, he didn’t like to talk.’
‘Then why was he telling you?’
‘I caught him in here once talking to Napoleon. It was as if he wanted to tell someone, but couldn’t bring himself to confront the people responsible.’
‘What happened?’
‘I was standing outside the stable, at the other end, and the door was slightly ajar. Old Ted’s inside talking to the horse. The horse is not saying much, only standing there.’
‘How long were you standing there for?’
‘Five, maybe ten minutes.’
‘And what did you hear?’
‘Mr Selwood and Old Ted’s wife. No one knew, not anyone in the village, and it was a long time ago.’
‘How long?’
‘When they were younger. Mrs Selwood, she was expecting Gordon, and Mr Selwood and Old Ted’s wife, well, they sort of got together.’
‘And Old Ted told you this?’
‘Not really. I just overheard.’
‘Did you mention it to Old Ted?’
‘Not me. I was only new at the farm, and I knew I wouldn’t be here for long if I said anything.’
‘Did you know Old Ted’s wife?’
‘Oh, yes. She was a lovely woman, not like Old Ted. She liked to talk.’
‘And never a hint from Old Ted and his wife as to what had gone on?’
‘No. They always seemed a happy couple.’
‘Why are you telling me?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe you’re right in that he’d been killed for something he knew, something I know.’
‘Does Mrs Selwood know about this?’
‘I’ve no idea, and that’s the honest truth. There’s a lot that goes on in this village, but that’s the only thing that seems important.’
‘What else?’
‘A few affairs, that sort of thing.’
‘And Old Ted continued to work here for all those years.’
‘That was Old Ted. He didn’t like change, nor did he like unpleasantness. He’s the same as me really. I don’t want the houses at the top of the hill, no more than he did. But then, we’re simple countrymen. I come to work, do my bit, and go home, the same as Old Ted. Maybe Mr Selwood had to sell the land up the top, I wouldn’t know. I only know that Old Ted was against it.’
Clare attempted to take in what she had just been told. If Old Ted’s wife had been having an affair while Marge was pregnant with Gordon, then the child would be younger, and not legitimate either, so there was no claim on the farm. And it was known that Old Ted and his wife had been childless. It had come as a shock to Clare, as the village spoke highly of the wife.
It was clear Old Ted had a reason to be angry with Claude Selwood, but had continued to work with the man for another thirty-three years, and after the death of Claude Selwood, there was no reason to kill Old Ted. The man had nothing new to add that would have changed Gordon inheriting the farm. Clare had to admit she was perplexed. She left Callum and walked over to the main house.
The back door was open, and inside Tremayne was sitting with Gordon Selwood, as well as Rose and Crispin.
‘No school today?’ Clare said.
‘School holidays,’ Crispin said.
‘You should take Napoleon for a ride,’ Gordon said. ‘Your DI’s fine here.’
‘If you want,’ Tremayne said.
‘Not now. Tomorrow, maybe.’
Clare took a seat at the kitchen table. On one side, Gordon, on the other, Rose and Crispin. Tremayne was standing near to the kitchen sink. He sensed that Clare had something to tell him, but, for now, he was willing to stay in the kitchen and to observe the interaction between the parents and their son.
‘Dad’s taking me for a ride in the Mercedes,’ Crispin said.
‘DI Tremayne, do you want to come?’ Gordon said.
‘Fine, don’t mind if I do,’ Tremayne said. Clare could see the chance to talk to Rose.
After the three men left, Clare, knowing that Tremayne would not be interested in the car, sat down close to Rose. ‘I’m surprised to see you here,’ she said.
‘So am I, but Crispin was anxious.’
‘He could have come on his own.’
‘I know, but I’m reluctant to let Crispin go. Gordon’s trying, but he’s not the best influence.’
‘If Crispin had not been in that accident?’
‘I’m not sure. I’ve wanted to come back several times over the years, but I’ve always resisted.’
‘It’s still difficult?’
‘For me it is. I confronted the woman in the local shop, told her I was back with the legitimate son of Gordon Selwood.’
‘A harsh move.’
‘Pre-emptive. The gossips around here will have a field day as it is, and I didn’t want their prejudices showing towards Crispin.’
‘You’d do anything for him, wouldn’t you?’
‘You know I would.’
‘Even kill?’
‘What are you saying?’
‘Generalising, that’s all.’
‘I’ve not killed anyone yet, but if Crispin were threatened, I would. The same as any mother, the same as anyone would do for the person they loved. You would, as well.’
‘My fiancé gave his life for me. You’ve heard the story?’
‘I know some of it.’
‘It was my life or his, the choice was black and white. In the end, he did what was right, even condemned himself. That’s love.’
‘You must miss him.’
‘I do, but if he had lived, I would have arrested him, and he’d be in jail for murder. Sometimes the choices in life are hard to make. And now, you’re being forced to make some difficult ones. Will you make the right ones?’
‘For Crispin, all choices are right.’
‘Don’t become too closely involved,’ Clare said. ‘The Selwood family have a history of inviting people in, only to throw them out when they are no longer wanted.’
‘Is that a warning?’
Clare realised that she had probably overstepped the mark, but then, she had fallen for a man who had ultimately been proven to be bad, and now, Rose Goode was possibly heading down the same path.
‘It’s just advice. Someone in the Selwood family is a murderer. So far, Gordon appears to be the least likely, but situations change, more evidence is discovere
d, and the puzzle becomes clearer. I don’t want you to be hurt, and I don’t want you to be murdered or to be a murderer.’
‘Do you think I could kill someone?’
‘Yes. You’ve led a difficult life, a life that is as a result of this family. And Gordon’s mother, she remembers. There’s no turning the other cheek with her.’ Clare realised then, that if Claude Selwood had been involved with Old Ted’s wife, there was no way a person as devious as Marge Selwood would not have known.
‘She’s friendly at the present moment. Because of Crispin, I suppose.’
‘She may not harm Crispin, but she’ll harm you. If she gets a chance to isolate you from your son, she’ll take it.’
‘The bond between us is too strong.’
‘She can still try.’
‘I’ll not let her.’
Tremayne returned with Gordon and Crispin. ‘It was great,’ Crispin said.
‘How about you, guv?’ Clare asked, knowing his thoughts.
‘Great.’
Outside the house, Tremayne questioned Clare. ‘What did you find out from the farmhand?’
‘We’ll talk on the drive back to Salisbury.’
‘Significant?’
‘Dynamite.’
Chapter 21
As Clare recounted the story that had been told to her by Callum, she could see the look of disbelief on Tremayne’s face. The man who, after a lifetime of policing thought he had seen and heard it all, was unsure as to what to make of the revelation. So much so, that halfway back to Salisbury, he asked Clare to turn the car around and head back to Coombe.
‘DI, Tremayne, what can I do for you?’ Marge Selwood said as she opened the front door to her cottage. Clare looked at the woman, unsure of what she was seeing. Was the woman the devil incarnate, or was she the wronged mother of an ungrateful son? She wanted to believe the latter, although everything that had occurred so far in Coombe indicated the former.
‘A few questions, if you don’t mind,’ Tremayne said.
The two police inspectors were ushered into the living room of the small cottage. Clare was impressed. It was the first time she had had a chance to admire the work that the tradesmen had done to transform the place. Her cottage had not had the benefit of skilled tradesmen, only herself and a paintbrush, as well as a local handyman on the occasions when he was needed. Clare could see the difference between amateur and professional in Marge Selwood’s cottage.
‘What do you want to know?’
Clare thought the woman to be in a genuinely good mood, realising that a cheerful Marge Selwood only meant that someone else was bound to suffer.
‘The development planned at Coombe Farm?’ Tremayne said. Clare could see her DI aiming to break down the woman’s guard before bringing up the subject of Old Ted’s wife.
‘What about it?’
‘You knew about it?’
‘Claude was keen for it. He could only see the money.’
‘And you?’
‘I wasn’t keen, but I would have gone along with it. We had sufficient land, and farming is fickle. A couple of years with a lower than average rainfall, and we’d be at the bank looking for assistance.’
‘I thought the farm was viable,’ Tremayne said.
‘It is under normal circumstances. The situation has changed, not only for Coombe Farm but for everyone. It might be global warning, it might not. The only thing I know is that for the last nine to ten years, the weather has changed for the worse.’
‘It’s been warmer,’ Clare said.
‘That’s the problem. Great for us, not so great for the crops.’
‘Are you in approval of the current application for Coombe Farm?’
‘I’ve not been consulted.’
‘But if you had?’
‘I would have considered it with Claude, not with Gordon.’
‘Is there any reason?’
‘Claude would have listened to me. I’d have made sure that Dowling did not get the upper hand.’
‘And with Gordon?’
‘Gordon is putty in the hands of an unscrupulous rogue. He may be my son, but he is a foolish man.’
‘A foolish man who controls your destiny, as well as this village.’
‘As you say.’
‘And what are you going to do about this, Mrs Selwood?’
‘I’m going to fight back.’
‘If you do, your son could remove you from this cottage.’
‘Let him try.’
‘I thought the relationship between the two of you was stable.’
‘It is, but I’m a fighter, Gordon’s not. I want what is rightfully mine.’
‘Even if you use illegal means to gain it?’
‘There will be nothing illegal. And besides, you’re making small talk. What are you here for, really?’
Clare felt she should broach the subject, as it had been told to her in the first place. ‘Mrs Selwood, we have reason to believe that your husband had an affair around the time Gordon was born.’
‘Scurrilous rumours, that’s all.’
‘You’ve heard the rumour before?’
‘Not for a long time, but the gossips in the village, they make up anything.’
‘Are you a gossip?’ Tremayne said. ‘You were bad-mouthing Cathy Selwood to anyone who could listen.’
‘I only told the truth.’
‘You embellish the truth. You continued to bring up the fact she had sold herself, a crime you’ve been guilty of.’
‘Maybe I was a little harsh.’
‘You recognised a threat in the woman, worldly-wise and smart, the same as you, not the same as Gordon. You defamed her to the village, and then you killed her.’
‘I did not kill the woman. Okay, she was capable, but she reminded me of myself. A strong woman, a weak man. Claude accepted my past; Gordon accepted hers.’
‘And her hold was getting stronger. Would she have approved of the development of Coombe Farm?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘Why?’
‘Cathy had led a more troubled life than me. She wanted what the farm and the village offered. She would not have agreed to anything.’
‘Nothing would have changed with her, and Dowling would not be around.’
‘So, either she was killed because she would have objected to the developments, or because she stood between you and your control of Gordon.’
‘Are you accusing me of murder?’
‘Every time we evaluate the murder of Cathy, it comes back to you, and the development would have netted you and Claude a lot of money.’
‘I wouldn’t have had control with Gordon.’
‘But now, there is no Cathy, and you don’t have control over him. What about Rose and her son?’
‘Rose is not a Cathy.’
‘But Crispin is a Selwood,’ Clare said.
‘He has all the attributes of a Selwood. Gordon does not.’
‘Yet again, Mrs Selwood, you back yourself into a corner. If Gordon’s dead, then the property goes to Crispin.’
‘Crispin will need guidance.’
‘But it is Rose who controls the youth,’ Tremayne said.
‘I’m well aware of that.’
‘Whatever you do, you must realise that your chances of being back at the main house and in control are slim.’
‘I’m what Coombe Farm needs.’
‘You’re avoiding my question regarding your husband and another woman,’ Clare said.
‘I’ve always known. Do you want me to elaborate? It was a long time ago.’
‘Yes. It’s important,’ Tremayne said.
‘Very well. Claude was sleeping with Old Ted’s wife. It wasn’t a big deal to me.’
‘You accepted this?’
‘Claude had accepted me for what I’d been. I forgave his occasional indiscretions.’
‘But she was the wife of an employee,’ Clare said.
‘She was a woman, he was a man. What’s that got to do with it?�
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‘But why?’
‘She was married to Old Ted. Even as a young man, he was slow. No doubt, not the world’s greatest lover, and Old Ted’s wife was an attractive woman back then. Anyway, the affair didn’t last long.’
‘And Old Ted?’
‘You knew Old Ted. Not a man to make waves, was he? If he didn’t like it, he never mentioned it.’
‘We were always under the belief that the man was strange, but that takes the biscuit.’
‘And Old Ted’s wife?’
‘The romance ended, and in time, she put on weight, and spent her days fussing around the village.’
‘Gossiping?’
‘Not her.’
‘And your relationship with her afterwards?’
‘She knew her place, I knew mine.’
‘Did Claude have other affairs?’
‘Not in Coombe.’
‘And you?’
‘Never. You’ll find no more rumours in Coombe about us. There were only four people who knew about Old Ted’s wife and Claude.’
‘And three of them are dead.’
‘Obviously, someone else knew. I would prefer if this is not discussed again. It’s not part of your murder investigation, is it?’ Marge Selwood said.
The woman confused the two police officers. At times, she could be magnanimous, agreeable, and above all, logical. Her explanation of her husband’s affair had all the attributes of a forgiving woman, yet her treatment of Cathy Selwood had been venomous.
***
The construction of the two houses in the centre of the village continued unabated. Apart from Molly Dempsey being a nuisance, no one else was concerned. The villagers’ day-to-day lives took precedence over the houses that attempted to look as though they belonged but did not.
After meeting with Marge Selwood, the two officers visited the pub.
‘I’ve not seen you for a while,’ the publican said as they entered.
Clare recognised the clichéd patter. They had been in twice in the last week, and this would be their third.
‘A pint of beer, a glass of wine for Yarwood.’
‘Coming up. How about a pork pie? My wife’s speciality.’
‘I’ll take one,’ Clare said.
‘Make that two,’ Tremayne said.
Tremayne and Clare settled themselves at a table in the corner of the bar.
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