Ann Granger (15 page)

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Authors: That Way Murder Lies

BOOK: Ann Granger
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A young woman in a trim charcoal grey pants suit was moving about in the kitchen area, getting out a mug and milk from the fridge. A briefcase lay on the kitchen counter.
‘Making herself at home,’ whispered Toby.
‘That’s what I was about to say,’ Jess whispered back. ‘Two different sizes of shoe suggests two different people—’
They had been heard. The girl below dropped a spoon into the sink with a clatter and whirled round, looking up. ‘What – who the …?’
Jess scrabbled hastily for her ID and held it up over the balcony though it was unlikely the girl could make it out from down there. ‘Police. Inspector Campbell.’
Still holding out the ID she hastened down the spiral stairs, Toby on her heels.
The girl was tall and slim and her dark hair was trimmed into a twenties-style bob. Freckles spattered her nose and high Slavic cheekbones. She snatched Jess’s ID from her and glowered at it before returning it. She didn’t, thank goodness, ask to see Toby’s.
‘It doesn’t explain what the hell you’re doing here. Why were you up in the bedroom? It’s not a ruddy drugs bust, is it? Because, if it is, you’re out of luck. Neither Fiona nor I do drugs:
‘May I ask who you are?’ Jess retorted. She ignored the bit about the drugs bust. To have immediately leapt to this conclusion suggested this girl had been through that particular procedure somewhere before, but was sure there were no banned substances on these premises at the moment.
‘I’m Tara Seale. I live here with Fi, with Fiona.’
‘Oh,’ said Jess. ‘I’m sorry if I seem to have barged in. I didn’t realize Miss Jenner shared the flat.’
‘Well, you know it now,’ was the ungracious reply. ‘And you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.’
Jess eyed her. There was surly defiance and suspicion but no
grief, as yet, anyway. Tara didn’t know what had happened. There was no way she could know, of course, unless someone from Overvale had contacted her. The death had made the local press in a couple of lines but, as yet, Jess didn’t think it had reached the national papers.
‘I’m afraid I have some bad news for you,’ she said.
Tara Seale’s gaze sharpened. She snapped, ‘What sort of bad news?’
Belatedly, Jess remembered Toby Smythe behind her. She turned to him and said, ‘I don’t need you any more.’
‘Right,’ mumbled Toby and left.
Tara watched him go with something akin to contempt. ‘Who’s that? Don’t tell me he’s a copper. He didn’t show any ID, you didn’t introduce him as a colleague and he doesn’t look like a policeman.’
I suppose, thought Jess crossly, I look like a policewoman! Well, so what if I do? That’s what I am.
‘He’s Fiona’s cousin, Toby Smythe.’
Tara’s eyebrows twitched. ‘I’ve heard about him. Fi told me.’ She almost smiled.
Jess’s antennae twitched. ‘Told you what?’
‘Oh, that he was showing signs of being smitten. She liked him very much, don’t get me wrong. But she’d realized she was going to have to tell him about us.’
‘You’re Fiona Jenner’s partner.’ Jess said it as a statement, not a question. She remembered the pair of neatly made-up beds on the mezzanine and all those clothes and shoes crammed in the one wardrobe.
‘Yes!’ Tara replied impatiently. ‘What’s this bad news? Has something happened to Fi?’
‘I’m really sorry,’ Jess said gently. ‘She’s dead.’
As a police officer she’d been given all kinds of advice on breaking bad news, especially news of a death. But in the end there wasn’t any other way of putting it, other than a bald statement.
She saw Tara’s eyes widen in shock. The young woman swayed and Jess stepped forward hastily but Tara put out a hand to ward her off.
‘I’m not going to faint! What do you mean, dead? Rubbish. She’s going to be twenty-one next month. I’m organizing the party. There’s nothing wrong with her. She couldn’t just die!’
Denial, a common first reaction to the news.
‘I’m afraid not. She died on Saturday.’
‘This is crap,’ said Tara, but with less conviction. Abruptly she sat down on the white leather sofa where Toby had sat earlier. Her complexion had drained of colour, leaving the freckles startlingly obvious. She was seated beneath the white painting with the black squiggles and, in her charcoal grey, she formed a grey, black and white unity with her surroundings.
‘I’ll get you a cup of tea,’ Jess offered. ‘You were just going to make one, weren’t you?’
‘Coffee,’ muttered Tara. ‘I don’t drink tea:
Jess went to the kitchen area and made a mug of coffee. Bringing it back, she glanced at the briefcase on the breakfast bar. Tara was sitting as she’d left her, staring at the floor with a pinched angry face. After denial would come fury, and Jess was going to have to bear the brunt of it.
‘Here,’ she handed the other woman the mug.
Tara took it without thanks. After taking a sip, she put it down on the floor by her feet. When she looked up her eyes sparkled fiercely. ‘Was it an accident?’
‘No. I’m sorry to have to tell you this is a murder investigation.’
‘Somebody
killed
Fi?’ Incredulity mixed with outrage. ‘Who’d do that? When did this happen and where? Is it possible you’ve got this wrong? It’s a wrong identification, it wasn’t Fi—’
Jess shook her head, interrupting the flow of protestations. ‘Her father identified the body. She died in the grounds of her family’s house, while out jogging it seems, at around eight thirty on Saturday morning.’
‘You mean someone got into the grounds? Was she raped?’ Tara’s ferocity increased.
‘No. There was, as far as we know at the moment, no sexual motive.’
Tara asked in a low hoarse voice, ‘How did she die?’
‘She was stabbed.Yes, in the grounds somewhere, but we’re not sure where. We believe her body was moved and placed in an ornamental lake where it was found.’
Tara sat for a few minutes absorbing this. Her expression was still fixed in angry disbelief but she seemed to be in control of her emotions. Jess nodded towards the briefcase on the breakfast bar. ‘You’ve been to work today? You’re home early or do you always come home for lunch?’
‘I’m a financial journalist. I meant to work at home today. I went into the office to collect some documents, that’s all. I need the article for tomorrow. I thought, as Fi was away … I thought, it would be a good opportunity to work undisturbed.’
‘Fiona didn’t work?’
‘No. Not at the moment. She was talking about getting another job. She’d tried television but it hadn’t worked out. She was interested in journalism, because of me. She was talking about doing a degree course. I told her, she’d do better trying to get back into television and learn the ropes there. I warned her, it’s a tough world.’Tara shook her head as if to clear her brain of a mist. ‘Fiona wasn’t tough …’she mumbled. ‘She took things to heart. I can’t believe this. It doesn’t seem real.’ A tear trickled down her cheek and was angrily brushed away.
‘How long have you been together?’ Jess asked sympathetically.
‘Five months living here. We’ve known each other longer.’ Tara leaned back against the sofa’s pneumatic leather upholstery. By her feet the cooling mug of coffee sent up a spiral of steam. ‘I should have realized when I called her mobile on Saturday night and she didn’t reply, not even to the message I left. I should have guessed something was wrong.’ Tara narrowed her eyes, shining brightly with unshed tears, and asked suspiciously, ‘He didn’t do it, did he?’
‘Who?’ Jess asked, startled.
‘That guy, Toby. Fiona thought he was getting round to pop the question. We had a bit of a laugh about it but we knew it was a serious situation. She was going to have to tell him and her family about us. Her father’s a bit stuffy and her stepmother one of those clingy women who feel they’ve always got to be hanging on some guy’s arm. She’d always meant to tell them, of course. But she was waiting to pick her moment. Toby complicated things by getting lovesick. She hadn’t allowed for that. Perhaps she did tell him, Toby, and he flipped, you know, offended male ego. Some men are like that about lesbians. They see us as some kind of an insult to their virility.’
Jess digested this information. She’d had no idea Toby had had plans involving his cousin. ‘We’ll investigate all avenues,’ she said.
‘Investigate all avenues?’ Tara jerked upright. Her foot struck the coffee mug and sent it spinning across the wooden floor, the contents spilling out in a dark puddle. ‘Is that police-speak?You’ve got to do a bloody sight better than that! You’ve got to find him! You’ve got to find that bastard!’ Without warning, she burst into a flood of wild tears and, with her arms wrapped round her body, began to rock to and fro, sobbing.
 
Jess left the flat and set out to walk back the way she’d come. It had taken a while to stem Tara Seale’s grief and even longer to persuade her to let Jess go through Fiona’s private papers and belongings. But once Jess had started, Tara became helpful. Her outburst of grief seemed to have cleared the air. In the end, however, nothing of significance had been found.
At a waterside wine bar, Jess noticed quite a few people sitting on an open area outside it, enjoying the spring sun. Several were eating. It was still lunchtime, she thought, and wondered whether to join them. Then she saw a figure sitting alone, hunched over a coffee. Oh dear, first she’d had to console one of Fiona’s lovers, now she was going to have to console the other one.
She walked up to the table and asked, ‘May I join you?’
Toby glanced up. ‘Go ahead.’
Jess pulled out the chair and sat down. She waited.
‘You must think,’ Toby said, not looking at her, ‘that I’m a complete fool.’
‘No. I don’t think you’re a fool at all. I think you were daft to let Jeremy persuade you come here and go through the flat. But that’s not the same thing. You know yourself it was daft.’
‘I feel a fool,’ said Toby fiercely, looking up now and straight at her. His face was flushed. ‘I should have known, shouldn’t? That she was a lesbian? But she didn’t say. She didn’t look it. She didn’t act like it.’
‘Mr Smythe,’ Jess said, ‘don’t you think you might be in danger of assigning people to stereotypes here? What did Fiona have to do to qualify, in your mind, as looking or acting like a lesbian? Wear dungarees and big boots? Shave her head and go in for body-piercing?’
‘All right, all right!’ Toby said irritably. ‘Point taken. I’m not that stupid. It’s just that I thought I knew Fiona quite well and it’s come as a surprise, a shock.’ He eyed her. ‘You’re not one, too, are you?’
‘Me? No, actually, I’m not. Not that it’s any of your business or has any relevance here. Why? Do I qualify because I joined the police force?’ Jess heard the sharp note in her own voice.
‘You’re not going to let me forget this, are you?’ Toby said with an unexpected grin. Then the grin faded. ‘Now I know what Jeremy wanted me to find out, why he sent me up here. The silly old devil, why didn’t he warn me?’
‘You think he knew?’
Toby considered the question before replying. ‘I’m pretty sure she hadn’t told him. I think he’d have told me or Alison would have done. It’d have been general knowledge in family circles, wouldn’t it? I’m also sure he didn’t know she was sharing the flat with anyone of either sex. I think, though, that he must have had his suspicions because Jeremy isn’t a slouch at summing up people. Probably she’d never brought a boyfriend to meet him, never
spoken of a boyfriend. She was a stunner, wasn’t she? There ought to have been a horde of blokes trying to date her. It did cross my mind that it was curious she hadn’t got someone in tow. But I didn’t ask myself why. I just assumed she didn’t want to talk about her love life. Why should she? Jeremy was smarter than I was. He must have asked himself what was going on. So he sent me to find out and I, prize idiot, obediently came along here and, well, I did find out, didn’t I? And now I’m going to have to go back and tell him.’
‘He’ll be upset?’ Jess asked.
‘Of course he’ll be upset. He’s a traditional sort of bloke. But he’s not the kind who’d have thrown her out of the house. He’d have accepted it if that was her choice. She should have told him.’
‘According to Tara Seale she was going to.’ Jess hesitated. ‘She was going to tell both her father and you. Fiona had the idea, and told Tara, that you might be going to ask her to marry you.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Toby crossly. ‘Everyone knows everything about everybody except me. I just blunder along in a world of my own.’
‘I’m curious,’ said Jess. ‘Something must have given you the idea she’d accept you.’
Toby looked awkward. ‘It wasn’t a great romance, obviously, in view of what we now know! But even before I knew, I couldn’t have kidded myself there was any real deep feeling between us, other than friendship. But it was a good friendship. We really enjoyed one another’s company. I’m on my own. I thought that, living on her own, because I thought she
did
live on her own, she didn’t have much of a life.’

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