by Helen Oliver
Cally waited.
“Trying to get her claws into Dad again.”
“Let me get this straight, Mr Parsons. From my understanding, your mother and Miss Bloom were close friends.”
“Had been,” Parsons said. “So much so, that Mum actually forgave Harriet. Or that’s what I thought later. I think at the time we just accepted it, me and Lucy. Harriet was around again and Dad took up with this Gloria woman.” He paused. “We saw Dad fairly regularly. Mum looked happier, and she and Harriet seemed to pick up where they left off.” He gave a quick shrug. “Result: Dad got kind of left out in the cold.” He gave a little laugh. “The thing with Gloria was a nine-day wonder.”
After a short silence Cally said, “You knew your mother had an affair with Russell Sykes?”
“Yes, and I was not best pleased.”
“Did you get an impression of how Miss Bloom felt about this?”
Parsons didn’t answer straight away, then said, “Lucy overheard Harriet telling Mum she was playing with fire.”
“Lucy heard this?”
He nodded. “But luckily she didn’t know what Harriet was talking about.”
Cally asked, “When was this?”
“I don’t know exactly.” Parsons stared at a row of Hyundais, sunlight bouncing off their roofs. “Turns out there was a hell of a lot I didn’t know. Until Dad decided to bare his soul.”
“That night?”
“Yeah, after Harriet left.” He rubbed his chin hard. “Just the to two of us. Very chummy.”
*
Hammond switched on the tape. “Interview with Mr Russell Sykes recommenced at 09.05. Present are DCI Steve Hammond, PC Denise Higgins and Mr Gareth Blackwood. PC Higgins will take notes.”
Hammond looked at Sykes. “I can’t imagine you managed much sleep, Mr Sykes.”
Sykes didn’t reply and Hammond continued, “Maybe it’s given you time to consider, or reconsider, the period leading up to your discovery of April Parsons’s body.”
“I’ve thought about it.”
Hammond didn’t waste time. “Good. What car were you driving, Mr Sykes?”
“Like I said. My Toyota.”
“Where did you park it?”
“Further away, down Chapel Lane.”
Checking his earlier notes, Hammond asked, “How much further?”
“About a quarter of a mile.”
“How long did it take you to walk back to the house?”
Sykes shrugged. “I don’t know, I ran part of the way.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“An odd car or two passed.”
“Any you can describe?” Hammond asked.
“I was in a hurry. I didn’t take much notice.” The skin beneath Sykes’s left eye twitched. “I was worried about how I’d wake April up without scaring her.”
Hammond said, “The object of your proposed visit, Mr Sykes. What were you hoping to gain?”
Sykes thought for a moment. “I wasn’t actually thinking of gaining anything. It was more the feeling of wishing she hadn’t given me money.” He looked down at the table. “I thought she might like one last–” He shrugged, “You know? An opportunity to talk things through.”
Hammond said, “Did you not think you were clutching at straws?”
“I tried not to think.”
“Mrs Parsons can’t have been expecting you.”
“No, obviously.”
Hammond turned back a page in his notes. “You let yourself in.”
Sykes nodded. “By the back door. Eddie came in with me.”
Gareth Blackwood’s head snapped round, and Sykes said. “The cat.”
Hammond said, “You said yesterday you hadn’t seen the cat.”
“I forgot.”
“Is it possible Eddie followed you into the treatment room?”
“I suppose he might’ve done. If he did, I didn’t notice.”
“Not even when you were lifting Mrs Parsons’s body onto the treatment table?”
“He’s not the sort of cat that gets in the way.”
Hammond allowed a moment to pass. “I wonder,” he continued, “if there’s anything else you’ve forgotten, Mr Sykes. The fact, for instance, that in her bedroom you had noticed Mrs Parsons’s bed wasn’t made.”
“I told you before I’d noticed it.”
Hammond nodded. “So you did. But I wonder if, on thinking about it again, it came to you that you were, after all, aware of the identity of Mrs Parsons’s new lover.”
Hammond gave Blackwood a warning glance. Blackwood looked quickly at Sykes. And away again.
“When I talked about that before, I didn’t know she was dead.”
“Surely you haven’t forgotten. After all, you practically stumbled across her body.”
Sykes said quickly, “I was talking about Judi. I didn’t know Judi was dead.” His face creased in pain. “Not until you told me.”
“Clarify something for me, Mr Sykes. Why did you think it was acceptable, before you knew Miss Fox had died, to deny all knowledge of Mrs Parsons’s lover?”
“I didn’t want to complicate things for her.”
“Her?”
“Judi,” Sykes said.
Hammond took his time. A light flickered on the recording machine. Sykes scratched the back of his head. Hammond straightened up, met Sykes’s eye. “Did you at any time think that Judi Fox might have murdered April Parsons?”
Sykes’s breath came quickly. “She had every reason not to.”
“At that time, before you knew Miss Fox was dead, did you wonder if the two women had quarrelled over you?”
Sykes shook his head slowly. “No, because Judi broke off our engagement. And anyway, April only wanted sex.”
Higgins rotated her writing wrist and Hammond eased a shoulder. “What were your feelings for Mrs Parsons?”
“I enjoyed making love to a mature woman. She said I was exciting.”
“You made love to her, even when you were engaged to the younger Judi Fox?”
“April still wanted me.” He lowered his eyes. “She said I was a fantastic lover.” He paused. “For me, it was something else. Quite separate from how I loved Judi.”
“Did Mrs Parsons not resent you having sex with Miss Fox?”
Sykes said, “It was part of the plan.” He waited a moment. “In the end I’d be out of the picture.” He paused. “Which was what the letter was all about. Though I hadn’t thought she’d wrap it up quite like that.”
Hammond asked, “How did you imagine Mrs Parsons would ‘wrap it up’?”
“I don’t know. But not like she was paying me off.”
*
The sun glinted on the glass table top. James asked Cally if she’d like more coffee.
She shook her head. “No thanks.” She picked up her pen. “Let’s tie this together. Miss Bloom left the club. You and your father stayed on, with your father continuing to enjoy more wine.”
“Merlot. His favourite.”
Cally said, “And when he was – how shall I put it – well oiled, he surprised you.”
“Shocked me,” Parsons said.
“Shocked you with what exactly?”
Parsons didn’t answer, said instead. “All those years I’d got it wrong.”
Cally asked, “What did you get wrong?”
“Everything about Mum and Dad. About the affair with Harriet.”
“What was wrong about it, apart from the obvious?”
“Harriet’s affair was with Mum. Not Dad.”
*
Sykes leaned towards Hammond. “April would have had Judi to herself. That was what she wanted.”
Gareth Blackwood shifted on his chair. “I’d like time alone with my client.”
Sykes turned to him. “Don’t bother with all that. Best if it’s out in the open.”
Hammond said, “Shall we have it, then, out in the open? Let’s stop going round the houses, Mr Sykes. “Did you kill April Parsons?”
&nbs
p; “No. But I was terrified it would look like I had.”
Hammond waited before moving on. “A minute ago you implied that you, together with April Parsons and Judi Fox, had a plan. What did this involve?”
Sykes took a slow breath. “Me making Judi pregnant. April wanted her and Judi to have their own baby. Like it would be a kid for Lucy’s kid to grow up with.”
Hammond waited, shifted his shoulders. “How did Lucy react to this?”
“I don’t think she knew about it. Though I don’t know for sure that April never told her.”
Hammond stood up slowly. “I don’t think we can go any further at the moment, Mr Sykes. Given the current state of our enquiries, I shall recommend you are released on bail. Make sure you take a note of the conditions and keep yourself available for further discussion.”
He leaned towards the tape. “Interview terminated at 10.20.” He flicked the switch and turned to the solicitor. “Thank you, Mr Blackwood. Mr Sykes won’t need you for anything further.”
Higgins shuffled her notes together. “I’ll leave these for you, sir.”
“Thanks, Denise, I’ll put them with mine.”
Blackwood said, “I’ll leave you then,” and shook hands with a surprised Sykes.
*
Cally thought she’d like another coffee after all, and while Parsons hurried off to fetch it, wrote a page of notes.
Returning, he said, “There you go,” and placed the beaker in front of her.
“Thank you.” She took a sip. “Is Lucy still in ignorance, regarding your mother and Miss Bloom?”
He shrugged. “I’ve not told her.”
Cally thought for a moment. “Did you not wonder why their relationship was treated with such secrecy?”
“I asked Dad that.”
“And?”
“He said it was probably down to him. He said he’d rather folk believed he’d had it away with Harriet, than knowing his wife left him for a woman.”
44
Cally drew to a stop at the level crossing. Waiting for a Northern Line train to pass, James Parsons’s words filled her head. The phone beside her buzzed. She leaned over, read Hammond’s message: Released Sykes on bail. Kettle Kaffe?
She texted back: Okay.
*
She snaked into a parking space beside the BMW. Hammond raised a hand and she guessed he’d been there a couple of minutes. He came to her door, pulled it open. “It’s not crowded.”
She stepped out of the car. “Don’t let’s go in yet,” she said. “If your interview was anything like mine, it’s not tablecloth stuff.”
He shut the Focus door. “I didn’t want to do you out of a coffee.”
“I’m awash with it.”
“D’you want to go back to the station?”
“No, we can sit under the lime tree. If that’s all right with you – boss?”
They talked for the best part of half an hour. Let silence fall for a minute or two, until Hammond said, “Okay, so we’re on the same page.”
“The page where we reassess?”
He nodded. “Let’s look at motives again.”
“Who shall we start with?”
“Jez Hemsworth. No alibi, unless he gets lucky and someone confirms he was at the Catch.”
“I won’t forget seeing him at the hospital after he found out Leo wasn’t his child.”
“By which time,” Hammond said, “April Parsons and Judi Fox were both dead.” He frowned: “Philip Parsons. Do we know enough about his state of mind? On the domestic front, from what James told you, he was extremely bitter. Perhaps keeping schtum for years began to tell on him.” He paused. “Ditto, no alibi.”
Cally drew her hair away from her neck, “He kept the whole thing quiet because he felt humiliated.”
“Dead or not,” Hammond said, “we can’t rule out David Marsh. Could be worth you talking to Mrs Marsh again.”
“It was his funeral the day before yesterday.”
Hammond nodded. “Ah.”
“Still, no point hanging about. I’ll call later today.”
“No, leave it until Monday.” He grinned at her. “Take the rest of today off.”
Cally looked surprised. “Why?”
“Because, Cally Burns, you are due some time to yourself. Spend tomorrow at home. Have a few hours with Greg. Send Eileen off on a retail therapy trip.”
Cally laughed. “She’s not worried about shopping, but there’s an exhibition in Harrogate she’d love to see.”
“Well, then.”
“What about Bloom?”
Hammond said, “Might be a good move not to rush her. Leave her to simmer until Tuesday.”
They stood up, left the shade of the lime tree, and clicked their respective remotes.
45
Spring flowers at Top Bank Cottage had begun to fade. Cally noted summer replacements beginning to take over.
The door opened. “Oh, it’s you.”
Cally hovered on the step. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Angie Marsh raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you’ve come to tell me?”
“May I come in?”
“If you must.” She gave a short laugh. “I heard you caught him. April’s gardener.”
“We’ve been talking to him,” Cally said, and watched Betsy circle in her basket.
“Why are you here?”
“We have to tie up a few loose ends.”
Angie looked around the room. “I’ve only just got the place straight. More than I expected came back for the funeral.”
“It all looks perfect.”
“So. What loose ends?”
“Not very many,” Cally said. “In the circumstances I honestly wish I didn’t have to be here at all.”
Angie Marsh shrugged. “I would only say what I said before: that my husband was exhausted after the drive from Edinburgh and fell asleep listening to the World Service. Though now you’ve got the Sykes guy, I’ll admit that with the strength of David’s feelings about the baby, I’d begun to wonder if I’d made a dreadful mistake. It’s a relief to know I hadn’t.”
Cally said, “I hope you understand, that considering the extreme measures your husband went to. The scan for example –”
Angie interrupted. “Silly man.” Tears brimmed and she interlocked her fingers, stroked her abdomen. “I’m keeping the baby. It’s all I have left of him.”
Cally left, wondering if Angie Marsh had made a mistake after all.
*
The CEO decided to stay late, make the phone call from the hospital. She ran her eye down staff mobile numbers, stopped, checked. And dialled. Her call was answered almost straight away.
“Harriet Bloom.”
“Harriet, this is Susan Jukes.”
46
Tuesday, and PC Denise Higgins squirted a floral spray into each corner of the Interview Room; badly needed after thirty minutes of a recidivist’s morning-after reminder of chicken jalfrezi.
Higgins held out a cloth. “I’ll give the table a wipe, shall I?”
Hammond nodded. “Please.”
“Will you want me for notes?” she asked.
Hammond turned to Cally. “We’ll be okay,” he said. Higgins left, and Hammond pulled out a chair for Cally. “We’re agreed?”
“Nothing too heavy,” she said. “More a question of needing her help.”
He frowned. “We can give it a try.” He checked the recording equipment. “Assume nothing.”
Cally laughed. “Would you say that’s your mantra?”
“Can you think of a better one?”
She looked at her watch. “When’s madam due?”
“Nine-thirty.”
“I’ll meet her in Reception,” she said, “make her feel welcome.”
“Not too welcome.”
Cally headed for the door. “Softly, softly, catchee monkey.”
Hammond opened his laptop, checked notes he’d made in Tables and marked anything connected with Bloom
. The door opened and he stood up as Cally ushered her in. “Miss Bloom, good morning.” Hammond extended a hand. “I hope this hasn’t caused inconvenience at the hospital.”
Bloom was casually dressed in white jeans and a bright cotton top, her trademark lipstick matching the red stripe. “It’s perfect,” she said. “I’m actually at home, preparing for an interview.”
Hammond indicated a chair. “If you’d like to sit there, Miss Bloom. I’m sorry,” he added, “if it feels a tad official in here. Our office has been hi-jacked for a Police Constables’ course.” He reached a hand towards the recorder. “We’ll use the tape. It’s useful if we find out later that our notes didn’t keep up with events.”
Bloom laughed. “Are you expecting the Chief Constable to fly through the window?”
Hammond said, “Events is probably not the right word.” He pushed down the switch. “Meeting commences at 09.37, Monday, 21st June. Present are Detective Chief Inspector Hammond, Detective Sergeant Burns and Miss Harriet Bloom.”
Cally opened her notebook, placed her pen on the table. “Firstly, Miss Bloom,” she said, “thank you for coming in.”
“It’s no problem. As much as anyone, I want to see justice done for April. And for Miss Fox, of course.”
Hammond checked his notes. “I realise that our previous meeting raised some emotional issues, and I’m conscious that, following enquiries we’ve recently made, further sensitive points may come under discussion.”
Bloom pushed further back into her chair, and Cally said, “I’ve had talks with James Parsons, who was candid in regard to your relationship with his mother.”
Bloom looked puzzled. “Candid?”
“We learned facts unknown to us earlier, and were surprised it was only recently James found out that your affair was with his mother, not his father.”
Bloom said evenly, “Is that pertinent?”
“It is,” said Hammond, “in that talking to someone connected with our current enquiry, we learn that April Parsons intended ending her relationship with you in favour of joint parenthood with Miss Judi Fox.” Aware of Bloom’s frown, he was quick to add. “The father of the child in question being Mr Russell Sykes. Who we understand was willing to fulfil his part of the agreement.”