The Killer in the Choir

by Simon Brett

  ‘And that must have formed a bond between you.’

  ‘You could say that, Jude, yes.’

  Another silence. ‘Going back to Leonard’s death …’ Jude prompted.

  ‘Yes,’ said Heather wearily. ‘We have to, don’t we?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. You, I gather, have an alibi for the relevant time. Or maybe you don’t? Are you about to tell me that?’

  ‘No. I was with KK. No lies there.’

  ‘Having a singing lesson?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Remembering what she had heard the night before, Jude curbed the instinct to ask about the nature of her relationship with the guitarist. At that moment there was a more urgent topic. ‘But you left Alice in the house with Leonard?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And do you think she killed him?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Heather.

  ELEVEN

  Jude nodded thoughtfully. ‘I think I get it now.’

  ‘Get what?’

  ‘What happened after your husband’s funeral.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘You were worried about suspicion focusing on Alice. So, you ensured that suspicion was focused on you instead.’ Heather was silent. She looked very tired. ‘You chose a rather histrionic way of doing it, but I can see why you did. Alice is an actress, after all. It wasn’t difficult for her to act out the accusations against you.’

  Heather smiled wryly. ‘Well done. I can see why you’re good at your job. You understand how people work.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And if ever I was in need of healing services – or if Alice was – we might well …’ She stopped, apparently regretting having embarked on the sentence.

  ‘You’d be more than welcome. I don’t actually specialize in your kind of problem, but I’d—’

  ‘Who said I’ve got a problem?’ Heather snapped.

  ‘You’ve said it. This morning. What you’ve told me. Unless you don’t regard being the victim of sexual abuse as a problem …’

  ‘Hm.’ Heather nodded, taking that on board. ‘At the moment I’m so confused. There’s a lot of stuff in my head that I’ve got to sort out. But I’m not going to even think about it until I’ve got Alice safely married.’

  ‘Afterwards, though …?’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  ‘There are people who can help you. You don’t want to – and you don’t have to – live the rest of your life in the shadow of what you went through during your marriage.’

  ‘As I said, we’ll see.’

  Silence again. Heather looked out, as if for comfort, towards the sea. The water was steel-grey and unresponsive.

  ‘You took a big risk,’ said Jude.

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Setting up Alice to accuse you in the church hall. Why did you do it?’

  ‘So that no one would suspect that she’d killed her father.’

  ‘Had anyone voiced suspicions that she was responsible?’

  ‘No. But KK told me he heard people in the Crown & Anchor suggesting that I might have had something to do with it. In other words, there were suspicions that Leonard didn’t die of natural causes. I was worried that, if the rumours led to a police investigation, it might get too close to Alice.’

  ‘So, you publicly turned the suspicions against yourself …’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘… in the secure knowledge that KK could provide you with an alibi for the time of Leonard’s death?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘And you knew that Alice didn’t have an alibi, so you got Roddy to provide a false one for her?’ Heather nodded. ‘That was another big risk you took.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, if the police investigation had been a bit more thorough …’

  ‘I was banking on the fact that it wouldn’t be.’ There was now a note of pride in the woman’s voice. ‘I needed to stop the rumours going round Fethering. As you know, in a village like this, rumours can grow and fester and get bundled up with other rumours. So, I reckoned, if there was a police investigation which found that there was nothing to investigate, that would be a pretty good way of stopping them once and for all.’

  ‘So, you were the anonymous caller who told the police there was something to investigate?’

  ‘Well done. You’re spot on.’

  Jude shook her head. ‘Still an enormous risk.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Heather spoke now in a tone of self-congratulation. ‘But it worked, didn’t it? The police investigated, and they concluded there was nothing to investigate. And when did you last hear a rumour round Fethering that Leonard’s death was anything but natural?’

  Jude didn’t think it was the moment to point out that rumours in Fethering were never killed off that easily. Instead, she conceded that, yes, the dangerous strategy had paid off. But it still seemed to her a very elaborate way of going about things. And then she reflected that Heather Mallett was probably very naïve. Her sequestered life at Sorrento during her marriage had cut her off. Only someone out of touch with the real world could have dreamt up the denunciation scenario at the wake. And, Jude reckoned, Alice, the unsuccessful actress, the drama queen, would have been happy to play along, particularly with a scheme that should exonerate her from any suspicion.

  ‘And now,’ Heather went on, ‘the only people who are threatening to disturb that happy situation are you and your neighbour Carole.’

  ‘Hm.’

  ‘You say I took a risk by setting up Alice to accuse me after the funeral. But, of course, I’ve taken a bigger risk this morning.’

  ‘By telling me all this?’

  ‘Yes. In fact, I’m taking the same risk as I did with the police. I’m volunteering information, in the hope that, by doing so, I will stop an investigation in its tracks.’

  ‘You think, now I know the circumstances, I, like the police, will take no further action?’

  ‘That’s what I’m hoping for.’ The woman looked tense; hardly surprising given how much the response mattered to her. ‘Or have I read your character all wrong, Jude?’

  ‘No. You haven’t read my character wrong. From what you’ve told me about your husband – which, incidentally, I have no problem with believing – I cannot feel any regret for his death. Nor, indeed, can I feel very inclined to blame your daughter for helping him on his way.’

  ‘Are you saying that you’ll keep quiet about what I’ve told you this morning?’

  ‘I certainly don’t feel a sense of duty to tell anyone. I have strict rules of confidentiality with my clients, you know. I’m quite good at keeping secrets. And you’re right. I don’t have a black and white view of justice.’

  ‘Unlike your neighbour.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘So, what I’m asking you, Jude – begging you – is that you don’t tell any of this to Carole.’

  ‘Till after the wedding?’

  ‘No. Ever. You must never tell any of it to Carole!’

  Jude nodded slowly. She sympathized with the woman, but she also knew how terrier-like her neighbour could be when she suspected information was being kept from her. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘I’m going to ensure that Alice has the best wedding day any girl has ever had,’ said Heather Mallett. ‘And if anyone tries to prevent that from happening, I’ll kill them!’

  Though she would never have used the word – or indeed confided in anyone how bereft she had been feeling – Carole was ecstatic to have Gulliver back. Again, the strength of emotion surprised and slightly worried her.

  On the Wednesday, she’d taken him for his customary early morning walk on Fethering Beach, and he got the bonus of a second outing because she needed to do some shopping on the parade. Walking back, Carole had to pass Starbucks, and she did so with her usual sniff of disapproval at the fact that it was no longer Polly’s Cake Shop.

  Through the window, she was surprised to see someone she recognized. Sitting alone at a table, with
a large black coffee in front of him, was Roddy Skelton. Carole decided to suspend her instinctive revulsion for the place and enter. She had heard from fellow beach walkers that dogs were allowed inside.

  This was her first visit to any Starbucks branch. Carole Seddon had a perverse prejudice against the popular. She didn’t like to be seen doing what other people did. For this reason, she avoided chain restaurants. For her to be seen in a McDonald’s or a Kentucky Fried Chicken, she would regard as social death. She felt the same about watching Coronation Street, EastEnders or Strictly Come Dancing. In the face of such trends, she liked to maintain her individuality. The fact that no one would ever notice if she went to a fast-food outlet, and no one would ever know what was watched on the High Tor television did not change her deep-held convictions.

  But, of course, that Wednesday morning, Carole had a higher purpose. So, she entered Starbucks with Gulliver and, quickly working out that you ordered at the counter, asked for a black coffee. She saw no sign of Bet Harrison; maybe the woman worked a different shift. Offered the choice of espresso, Americano or filter, she chose filter. Carole Seddon knew where she was with filter coffee. And, ignoring the Starbucks special names for the available sizes, she said she’d have a small one.

  While she waited for it at the other end of the counter, she looked around at the clientele. Huh, whatever happened to loyalty, she asked herself, as she recognized many of the regulars from the Polly’s Cake Shop days. Though she knew who quite a few of them were, there were only a couple to whom she felt she had to give the minimal local greeting, a ‘Fethering nod’.

  Roddy Skelton did not appear to have noticed her arrival. He sat, vague and disconsolate, looking out of the window. Carole felt no guilt in walking straight up to his table, coffee in one hand, Gulliver’s lead in the other and saying, with uncharacteristic heartiness, ‘Penny for them?’

  Roddy looked up. He recognized but couldn’t place her.

  ‘Carole Seddon. We met on Monday night in the Crown & Anchor.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ he said, still uncertain.

  ‘Mind if I join you?’ asked Carole, in a manner that was even more out of character. She sat herself opposite before he had time to object.

  Anyway, he was far too well bred to make a fuss. ‘Nice dog,’ he said. ‘Aged Ps always had Labradors. Not now. They were getting a bit frail, so they didn’t get a replacement after the last one popped his clogs. And now, of course, my mother’s gone too. I think the old man misses having a dog about the place. What’s this beauty called?’

  ‘Gulliver.’

  ‘Ah. Nice name.’

  ‘Alice not with you today?’ asked Carole, realizing as she said it that it was rather a stupid question.

  But Roddy appeared not to notice. ‘No. Things to do. Wedding-related, needless to say. She and her mum have got it all worked out, nothing left for me to do. Alice said she wanted me around down here in the run-up to the big event, so I took the leave, but … they seem to have the whole shooting match sorted out, down to the last detail. I feel like a spare prick at a wedding.’ He seemed suddenly to realize the appropriateness of his words. ‘Oh, rather good, eh?’ And then, a little crestfallen. ‘That is, pardon my French.’

  ‘No worries,’ said Carole, to her own great surprise. She had never said ‘No worries’ before in her life. She went on, ‘I imagine it’s been a rather stressful time for you, the last few months.’

  ‘What, you mean, with the engagement, wedding arrangements, all that?’

  ‘I was thinking more of Leonard Mallett’s death.’

  ‘Ah, yes, of course. So close to the wedding, I agree. Very sad.’

  She tried fishing for information. ‘And always particularly sad, isn’t it, when you don’t know the actual cause of someone’s death …?’

  ‘We do know. He fell downstairs.’

  ‘Yes, but do we actually know what caused him to fall downstairs?’

  For the first time in their conversation, Roddy gave Carole a rather old-fashioned look. Maybe, she worried, her approach had been a little too direct, in the circumstances.

  ‘I do wish people would stop talking about it,’ he said, with sudden bitterness. ‘Alice is upset enough, as it is. I suppose we should have realized that, in a place like Fethering, there’s bound to be a lot of gossip, but it’s getting her down. People don’t seem to talk about anything else.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Carole, who had no more intention of changing the subject than she had of flying. ‘But you have to admit that the way your fiancée behaved after the funeral was … well, likely to cause comment.’

  ‘I agree. Don’t know what came over her. But Alice was in a bad state, you have to make allowances. She was obviously grieving for her father. Then she’d had too much to drink. And what she actually said wasn’t that bad.’

  ‘I was there, Roddy. I heard exactly what she said.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘You and I did meet then, at the wake, very briefly.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I … Rude of me to forget. There was a lot going on.’

  Carole was not going to be guilty of saying ‘No worries’ again. Instead, she told Roddy it wasn’t important. ‘What was important, though, was what happened on Monday night.’

  ‘This Monday night?’

  ‘Yes. When we were having drinks in the Crown & Anchor.’

  ‘I don’t recall anything important happening then,’ he said uneasily.

  ‘The business about you having been on a course at GCHQ at the time Leonard Mallett died.’

  ‘Ah.’ He looked even more uncomfortable. Carole felt pretty sure that his future mother-in-law had pointed out the indiscretion to him.

  She elaborated. ‘Which of course means that you weren’t with Alice, choosing table decorations in London at the time. Were you?’

  He shook his head. ‘No.’

  ‘So why did you tell that lie?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Oh, come on.’

  ‘All right, I know why I told the lie. Because Heather asked me to. But why she wanted me to do it, that I don’t know.’

  Carole looked at him, a typical product of the English squirearchy and minor public school. Dressed in tweeds and a shirt with large checks. And yet Roddy Skelton worked for Intelligence in the Army. Could he really be as boneheaded as he appeared?

  ‘Doesn’t it seem an odd thing for her to ask you to do?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said again. ‘Look, I’ve known Alice’s family a long time. Since I was in my teens. But, at the same time, I hardly know them at all. I certainly never knew what went on inside her father’s head. And I’m kind of aware that both Alice and her mother have had difficulties … you know, psychological problems. All I do know for sure is that I love Alice and, once we’re married, I’m going to make every effort I can to keep her from ever going back to the dark places where she has been.’

  This was quite a speech to come from the mouth of someone like Roddy Skelton. Carole felt it was one of those many occasions when Jude would have come up with a better response than she could. All she said was: ‘That’s very admirable.’ And then, because there were some things she just couldn’t leave alone, she went on, ‘You must know Alice pretty well.’

  ‘I certainly hope so. I’m marrying her on Saturday.’

  But Roddy’s attempt at levity didn’t deflect his interrogator. ‘So, you must have a pretty accurate idea of what her relationship was with her father.’

  ‘It’s not something we’ve discussed. We’re much more interested in our relationship. That’s what matters to us.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s the case. But, still, given the uncertainty about how Alice’s father died, there must—’

  ‘There is no uncertainty about how Alice’s father died. He fell downstairs. Accidentally.’ Roddy was talking with new authority. For the first time, Carole could see him giving orders to the troops under his command. Behind his blimpish façade, ther
e was a deeply serious person.

  Still, she wasn’t about to be put off by this discovery. She demanded, ‘How do you actually know that his death was accidental?’

  But she’d gone too far. Roddy Skelton rose to his feet and, with considerable dignity, announced, ‘I’m afraid this conversation is at an end.’ And he walked out of the Starbucks.

  ‘I thought we’d agreed you weren’t going to tell Carole anything.’ Heather’s voice, from the other end of the line, was distinctly angry.

  ‘I haven’t told her anything,’ Jude insisted.

  ‘No? Then why do you suggest she collared Roddy this morning and virtually accused Alice of murdering Leonard?’

  ‘I had no idea that she had done anything of the sort.’

  ‘Well, she did. In Starbucks. So, God knows how many other Fethering gossips were listening in.’

  The ‘other Fethering gossips’ hurt. It was identifying Jude as one of their number. ‘Heather, please believe me, I have said nothing to Carole since you and I spoke yesterday. I haven’t even seen her. I had clients booked in yesterday afternoon and this morning.’

  ‘Hm.’ Heather clearly still didn’t believe her.

  Jude had hardly put the phone down from talking to Heather, when Carole rang.

  ‘Look, I spoke to Roddy Skelton in Starbucks this morning.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Just had a call from his mother-in-law-to-be. Virtually accusing you of harassing him.’

  ‘I wasn’t harassing him. I was just trying to get at the truth about Leonard Mallett’s murder.’

  ‘We don’t know it was murder …’

  ‘Yes, we do. And what’s more, I’m pretty sure I know who the murderer is.’

  ‘Who?’ asked Jude wearily.

  ‘Alice Mallett,’ said Carole. As Jude had known she would. ‘And I don’t think that’s going to be difficult to prove.’

  ‘Oh? And how are you going to set about proving it?’

  ‘I’m sure Heather knows more than she’s letting on.’