Asking For Trouble (28 page)

‘What?’ His confused look turned to surprise and then anger. ‘I warned you, Fran!’

‘All right, I know! I’ll go indoors and—’

There was a screech of protesting metal followed by a grating sound, quite near at hand. Gan parted the undergrowth and we peered through the leaves. It was Jamie, over at the garage, pushing up the door.

‘He’s taking the car out,’ I whispered. ‘Can you see him? Is that the man you saw watching our house?’

‘That’s him!’ Ganesh said firmly.

‘Sure?’

‘Absolutely positive.’

Jamie had gone into the garage and we could hear the engine being started up. The car slid out slowly backwards.

‘Know where he’s going?’ Ganesh muttered.

‘No idea.’

The car was coming towards us, still slowly. Jamie seemed to be looking about him. Looking for me, perhaps. He’d realised I wasn’t in the house and he wanted to know where I was.

Just then something cold and wet fell off a branch and rolled down my neck. Stupidly I jumped. All the branches around me shook. Jamie saw it and slammed on the brake.

He was out of the car fast but I was quicker. I shot out of the shrubbery, hoping Ganesh was well hidden in the leaves behind me and hailed him brightly. ‘Hullo, Jamie!’

‘What were you doing in there?’ he demanded. He tried to see past me but I moved to block him.

‘Walking up and down trying to get some movement in my joints. I’m a wreck from that fall yesterday. There’s not an inch of me which doesn’t hurt.’

He wasted no sympathy on my ills. ‘You’ve been creeping about in those shrubs. You’re up to something! I damn well knew you were last night! What’s in there?’

He shoved me aside roughly and pushed his way into the buddleias.

I held my breath. After a moment Jamie came out backwards, wet and furious.

‘I want to know what you’re doing, Fran!’ He grabbed my arm. ‘And if I have to shake it out of you, I will!’

I shrieked in agony as the sudden movement antagonised my aches and pains. The bushes further along rustled and Ganesh stepped out. I wondered briefly how he’d got down there without either Jamie or myself seeing him. Perhaps he had some mystic Eastern trick or two up his sleeve.

‘Why don’t you let go of her?’ he asked unpleasantly.

Jamie released me and pushed me away. He stared disbelievingly at Ganesh and then burst out, ‘I knew it! I knew you came out here to meet someone! You’ve been like a cat on hot bricks since yesterday.’ He jabbed a finger at Ganesh and then whirled to face me. ‘So, who the devil is that?’

‘This is Ganesh Patel,’ I said. ‘He’s a friend of mine and he’s come to take me back to London.’

Jamie scowled at Ganesh. ‘I’ve seen you somewhere before.’

This was bad. Gan had said that the man who had been watching the house the day Terry died, had noticed him. If Jamie now connected Gan up with that incident, he’d know Ganesh was the one who could finger him to the police. And he’d do something about it.

Very quickly I said, ‘You’ll be pleased I’m leaving, Jamie!’

That brought his attention back to me. ‘Pleased! Yes, you could put it like that! You can’t leave fast enough as far as I’m concerned. Is that your clapped-out old van parked down the road under the trees?’ He turned to Ganesh.

‘Yes,’ said Gan shortly.

‘If that gets all the way to London without breaking down, you’ll be lucky!’ Jamie said. ‘You’ll probably have to push it all the way!’ He began to laugh.

I was afraid Gan was going to sock him so I jumped in with, ‘I’m just going indoors to pack up my gear and say goodbye to everyone.’

Jamie had stopped laughing. He still wanted to have the last word. ‘That’s fine. I’m going down to Abbotsfield for half an hour. Try and be gone by the time I get back, right?’

I went indoors to pack my things and say goodbye to Alastair and Ariadne. I thanked them for everything. I really meant my thanks and they obviously realised it. They were both very nice and told me to come back again, although underneath it, I sensed they were relieved I was going. That, in turn, made me wonder if I’d been getting near the truth – and it was a truth they didn’t want to hear.

‘How will you travel?’ Alastair asked.

I told them I had someone waiting outside for me. They immediately insisted I bring Ganesh indoors. They were clearly appalled when they saw the state of him. But Gan made a polite speech, apologising for his unkempt appearance, and they were very well bred about it.

Ruby wouldn’t hear of us leaving before we’d had coffee and she’d cut some sandwiches for the journey.

This all took a little time and I kept expecting Jamie to return but he didn’t. A niggle of worry formed at the back of my mind. What was he doing?

Time to go. Ruby and Alastair came out on to the drive to wave goodbye to us.

‘I’ll make your farewells to Jamie,’ Alastair said. ‘He’ll be sorry to have missed you.’

He gripped my hand and addded quietly, ‘And thank you, my dear, for caring. But to be honest with you, I’m beginning to have second thoughts about trying to do the work of the police for them. Sometimes it’s better to let sleeping dogs lie.’

He sounded desperately sad. I guessed he was afraid my investigations might lead right back to the Astara and they’d had enough trouble. If someone here was a villain, they didn’t want to know it.

I knew then we’d been right to keep stumm about Gan’s finding Squib’s body. You had to take it a little at a time with someone of Alastair’s age. I pressed his hand and thanked him again.

‘They’re nice people,’ Ganesh said as we lurched down the drive. ‘It’s a pity you couldn’t help them, Fran.’

‘I’ve been trying to tell you that!’ I knew I sounded exasperated. You can never tell men anything. They always have to work it out for themselves and then they pretend they thought of it first.

The van had reached the bottom of the drive. I looked at my watch. ‘Where do you think Jamie is?’

‘In the pub,’ said Gan. He was probably right.

‘Turn right!’ He glanced at me surprised. He’d been about to turn left, taking the lane down to the main road.

‘I just remembered,’ I said. ‘I need to call by a farm near here, say goodbye to the people there. Their name is Bryant.’

Nick was in the yard. The cows were bellowing in the shed behind him. There was an old chap in gumboots and a cloth cap squelching about in the mud in the background whom I supposed was Biles, the hired labourer.

Nick and Ganesh eyed one another like a pair of duellists, observing all the courtesies but waiting for a chance to jump in and gain advantage. Nick took us into the kitchen and offered us tea which we declined. We had a long drive ahead of us. Penny wasn’t there, for which I was sorry.

‘She’s at the shop,’ Nick told us. ‘She’ll be staying over in Winchester for the next couple of days. Her partner’s sick again.’

Ganesh had been looking from me to Nick and back again. Now he cheered up a bit because he knows all about running a shop. He and Nick had some conversation about that and afterwards, they seemed to get along better.

‘If you find out anything,’ Nick said. ‘Give me a call, here, at the farm. Ma was fond of Theresa Monkton. She felt sorry for her. We all did, I guess. After you called the other morning, Fran, Ma talked about Theresa a lot. It’s a really bad business.’

I had a similar request. ‘If you find out anything, let me know, please.’ I scribbled on a piece of paper. ‘This is my address, my flat. I’ve no phone, but you can send me a letter.’

‘He can phone the shop,’ Ganesh said. ‘Give him our number.’

So we did that and parted company. As I was getting into the car Nick put his hand on the door before I could close it and stooped to say, ‘I hope you’ll come down here again sometime.’

He sounded as though he meant it. I mumbled something because Ganesh was giving us funny looks again.

‘You seem to have hit it off with him!’ Ganesh said dourly as we drove off.

‘They’re nice people. He knew Terry and he’s upset about her death. So is his mother. Don’t fuss, Gan.’

Ganesh muttered, ‘I’ve got more to worry about than him. I’ve got to explain to Morgan about finding Squib. I think we should have got in touch with the police here.’

‘I don’t. Believe me, Ganesh, I’m right on this one.’

‘And what’, he asked, ‘if someone else finds Squib before we get to Morgan? Not only the body but my footprints and the marks left by the van, too? How do I talk my way out of that one?’

‘Don’t worry about things which haven’t happened,’ I advised. ‘Just worry about the things which have.’

We sat silent for some miles after that, picking up the argument and rehashing it only when traffic on the motorway had slowed to a crawl. Ahead was London, the great magnet drawing it all inward. I could feel its power tugging me towards it.

We quit the motorway and negotiated the network of roads through suburbs which seemed never-ending, running into one another, linked by scraps of tired greenery, scrappy workshops and car-sale forecourts. At last respectability, or at least a façade of it, began to give way to a jumble of grimy streets. I was back where I belonged. I never thought I’d be so pleased to see grubby shops offering ‘fire-damaged goods’ or ‘closing down sales’, gutters filled with debris, vandalised telephone kiosks festooned with cards advertising the services of local prostitutes, spray-can graffiti from the hand of someone called Gaz. All the things which to me spelled home . . . with not a horse or a chicken or a cow in sight.

Home Sweet Home is what you want it to be.

Chapter Seventeen

‘Just what did you think you were playing at? You can’t just waltz off when you feel like it. How dare you tamper with other witnesses? Do you realise I could book you right here and now for obstructing the police and wasting my time?’

Janice had been rampaging around her office, hurling accusations and reproaches mixed with a variety of threats, until she appeared in danger of getting seriously overwrought.

You will have realised that our return hadn’t been well received and when they heard about Ganesh’s find in the woods, things got very nasty. They split us up, of course, as was their way. As Ganesh was marched off to give details of his discovery and for the Hampshire police to be alerted to go out and look for it, he managed to call to me.

‘When I get out of here I’ll have to go over and see my family. I’ll get in touch later, Fran!’

‘If he gets out of here!’ said Janice unpleasantly. ‘Nor am I overlooking your part in this latest development. When Mr Patel told you he’d found a body it was your duty to see the matter was reported at once to the local police. It wasn’t just up to him. You knew. You share responsibility. After I’ve booked you for obstruction, I dare say the Hampshire force will do the same. You, Miss Varady, are in trouble!’

I wanted to reply, ‘What’s new?’ But that wouldn’t have been tactful. I realised at least a token apology was called for on my part. I’d had some stage training and if I couldn’t put on a good show of abject regret, I had no talent at all. I hung my head, shuffled about on my chair and mumbled I was sorry for having caused any bother. As for reporting Squib’s body, we had thought she ought to know about it first. We’d made an honest mistake. I wondered whether to squeeze out a few tears, but one can go over the top. She wasn’t a fool.

I must have turned in quite a fair and well-judged performance because Janice calmed down considerably. She made a speech in which she said she realised that Ganesh and I had panicked. As for my going down to Abbotsfield, I probably thought I could help. But I was certainly intelligent enough to know that police investigations had to be conducted according to the rules. Apart from anything else, when a case got to court – if it did – defence lawyers would seize on any irregularity to get evidence thrown out. I didn’t want that to happen, did I?

All of this was more or less a reprise of the kind of lecture my old headmistress used to deliver regularly to me. I’d long ago developed a technique for letting it flow over my head while keeping a reasonably alert expression on my face.

What I was really doing, as she droned on about responsibility and tax-payers’ money (where did they get into it?), was studying her. I decided she was only about thirty-five. How did anyone get to be that institutionalised by the mid-thirties? She was dressed today as if she were sixty-five, in a grey flannel suit and a nylon crepe blouse with a tie-bow at the neck. Where on earth did she buy those clothes? The only place I’d ever seen them offered for sale was in newspaper ads aimed at the middle-aged, usually described as ‘practical’ and ‘available direct from our warehouse’. She even had the round-toed shoes, low-heeled, with little tabs on the top, which are advertised with a promise that your feet will never hurt again. No store sells things like that now, surely? I felt a bit sorry for her. I realised that if she looked like a bimbo, she wouldn’t be taken seriously as a police officer. But it seemed a shame that she had to make herself look like that. It was defensiveness, pure and simple. There had to be a compromise somewhere in between. I decided that if I ever got to know her better, and off-duty as it were, I’d have a quiet word with her about it.

‘If you have anything else at all to tell me,’ she was saying, ‘let’s hear it now. Be absolutely open, leave nothing out, and I might just overlook your behaviour. Don’t hold out on me, Francesca. If you do, believe me, you’re for the chop!’

Now, it seemed to me there was a touch of muddled thinking here, having her cake and eating it. I was being carpeted for interfering, but she wanted to know what I’d learned in the country. I gave her a stern look to let her know I’d rumbled her.

Then I settled down to tell her about the shot in the plantation, about Lundy and his habit of violence towards his wife, about the solicitor’s visit to Ariadne and anything else I could.

‘You can’t just ignore Jamie Monkton!’ I finished. ‘He has a motive. He runs the stud and Lundy takes his orders from him. He took me out into that plantation and set me up. Get both his and Lundy’s dabs off them. You must have prints from our house you haven’t identified. Match up just one set with either Jamie or Lundy and it puts him in that house. Let whoever it is explain it away, if he can. Jamie says he never went there and I know he lies.’