Buried in Cornwall (20 page)

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Authors: Janie Bolitho

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BOOK: Buried in Cornwall
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‘I haven’t washed them yet.’

‘I’ll do it.’ Peter was on his feet and across the kitchen in three strides. ‘While you make some toast,’ he added over his shoulder in a proprietorial tone, unaware of the impression he was making. Barry’s scowl deepened.

Within fifteen minutes the glasses were in the box in which they had come from the off-licence. Barry had borrowed them free of charge on the strength of the amount of his order. The toast had been eaten and Barbara and Mike said they were leaving.

‘Can I give you a lift somewhere?’ Barry asked Peter rather acidly.

‘No, thanks. You carry on. I’m in no hurry.’

Rose turned away, unable to face Barry because she knew what must be going through his mind.

‘I’ll see you soon, Rose,’ he said then he, too, had gone.

‘I was sorry you changed your mind about dinner,’ Peter said, scooping toast crumbs towards him.

‘I didn’t change my mind. Unforeseen circumstances.’

He stared hard. ‘Another man? Nick, maybe?’

‘Another man? Yes. You could say that.’ Rose sighed then sat down to give him a shortened version of that day’s events.

Peter whistled through his teeth. ‘I have to admit, you can’t better that as a way of getting out of dinner with a man. Dare I ask if our date is still on?’

‘Yes. It is.’

‘Good. I’ll go and make myself respectable then you can tell me when.’

What have you done now? she wondered as she wiped the work surfaces, relieving them of sticky rings of alcohol and crumbs.

‘Thanks for the bed,’ Peter said when he returned fully dressed. ‘Here’s my number. Give me a ring when you fancy going out.’

Rose nodded and took the business card he handed her then closed the door behind him, glad to be alone at last.

 

It was another week before Rose saw Jack. He had decided to get away, to take some leave due to him and visit his sons. The younger boy was still living with his mother in Leeds where he was, Jack had once confided in Rose, turning into a perpetual student. The older son was in Sheffield, where he had gone into industry and lived with a woman three years his senior and equally a high-flier.

The weather had turned colder and although
the winter solstice was weeks ago, the days seemed shorter than ever. Rose was taking a mid-morning break, drinking coffee in the bay window as she often did. The sky was leaden and the light was strange. She was wondering if there was that rare possibility of snow when the telephone rang. She walked across the room to answer it. The last person she was expecting to hear from was Jack.

‘I’ve been away for a few days. How was the party?’

‘It went really well.’ She felt strangely tongue-tied.

‘Would I be interrupting anything if I came over?’

‘Don’t you have work to catch up on?’

‘No. I’m not due back until tomorrow.’

Because she had nothing better to do, Rose agreed. Jack said he would be there in ten minutes.

There was an awkwardness between them when she let him in and neither of them seemed to know what to say.

‘I’ve been to see the boys. They’re both well.’ Jack was fully aware of the tense atmosphere but was unsure why it existed.

‘I’m glad. Do you want some coffee?’

‘No, thanks. Rose, this isn’t public knowledge until the lunchtime news but Alec Manders has finally confessed he killed Jenny.’

‘Oh, Jack. How could he?’ She was filled with sadness that Jenny’s own father had taken her life. ‘Had you guessed?’

‘No. Not exactly guessed, but I did wonder whether it was possible.’

‘Why?’

Rose hooked her hair behind her ears in a businesslike manner which Jack knew meant she was going to put him right on a few things. But he was wrong. ‘Because I couldn’t really believe it was anyone I knew.’ She blushed with mortification. In fact she had decided Stella may have done it. ‘Well, to be honest, I didn’t want to believe it. Did you really believe it was Nick?’

‘Yes.’ Rose saw the spots of colour on Jack’s cheekbones and knew that he had his reasons, personal ones, for wanting the opposite from herself. ‘But I always had it in mind that it was possible that Alec had killed Renata all those years ago, that she hadn’t really gone away,’ Jack continued, hoping he was misinterpreting the smug expression on Rose’s face. If she’s worked it out, I’ll kill
her
, he thought. ‘I think I will have that coffee after all.’ Something stronger would have been preferable but it was too early in the day. Rose got up to pour it.

‘Thanks. We knew that Jenny confided in Maddy Duke and Maddy, the second time we questioned her, suggested that Alec might have been having a fling with a friend of Renata’s. This led us to think that he might have killed Renata either to be with this woman or on the spur of the moment during an argument over her, then put it around that she had left with another man. Everyone knew the situation, they wouldn’t have questioned his explanation. Anyway, as we know, nothing came of the affair between Manders and Josie Deveraux.’

Rose turned away to hide a knowing grin but she was too late, Jack had spotted it. The look of astonishment on his face told her that he knew that she knew the name. But all she had had to do was ask one simple question to discover it.

‘Our theory is that with Renata dead and safely in the shaft Alec simply sent all the relevant paperwork to Josie, who posed as his wife for the purposes of the divorce. There’s no need for a court appearance in cases of mutual consent, especially after six years. A solicitor in London, where Josie had taken herself, would naturally assume the woman in possession of a marriage certificate, or a copy, and whatever other
documents of Renata’s Alec thought fit to send her, was who she said she was.’

‘All right, but why would Josie Deveraux oblige?’ Rose wanted to know.

‘His wife was dead, Manders was free to marry again. But he couldn’t tell anyone she was dead, not if he’d killed her. With an apparently legal divorce taking place six years later it gives him a perfect alibi. How could Renata be dead when she’s agreed to divorce him? And now you’re going to say why, then, didn’t he marry Josie, and why did she help him in the first place, especially after all that time?’

‘Exactly.’

‘He didn’t marry Josie because he didn’t want to and had never intended doing so, even though she believed he did, but we think he was still able to use her because somehow or other she was involved, she knew what he had done or had even helped him do it. And this, we believe, is the reason we can’t find the woman posing as Renata Manders. Before his arrest for attacking you, Manders had already warned her it was time she disappeared.’

‘That’s more or less how I saw it. I spoke to my solicitor and he confirmed what you just said, about not having to appear in court and that a
divorce could be obtained that way. I gathered that Josie could have taken on Renata’s identity from the time she moved away and would have been known by that name for years. Maddy told me about her. And, like you, I thought Josie Deveraux had held out hopes of getting together with Alec all that time but when he finally let her down she couldn’t do anything about it without getting them both in trouble. Like you, I thought she must’ve known or been involved with the killing of Renata.’

‘Rose, just stop there. You keep saying, “Like you, I thought”. Are you trying to teach me my job? Are you trying to say I’m wrong?’

‘Yes, Jack.’

‘Dear God. I rue the day I met you.’

‘Well, just think about it. Alec’s admitted to killing Jenny, but what’s his motive?’

‘We’ll come back to that.’

‘Okay. So he’s going to prison. He’s not stupid, and I’m sure it’s been made quite clear that if he holds up his hand to both murders things would go better for him. Then why is he so adamant he didn’t kill his wife? I’ll tell you. Because it’s true.’

Jack groaned. It was impossible that with all the back-up and expertise they had at their
fingertips they were wrong and Rose Trevelyan was right. But he had to listen.

‘I think it’s far simpler than that. I think Renata Manders is still alive.’

‘What? Explain, Rose.’

‘As I said before, because of Alec’s denial that he killed his wife.’

‘But there’s only his word for it.’

‘Have you found this Josie Deveraux?’

‘No.’

‘But have you been looking for her under that name or the name Manders?’

‘Rose, give me some credit.’

‘Okay, sorry. But shall I tell you how I see it? Think of the family history, the power that Alec’s mother wielded over them all. She turned her daughter-in-law into a drunk and more or less wrote off her granddaughter because she couldn’t bear to see her son happy with anyone other than herself. Imagine how she would have felt if, Renata having run off with someone else, another woman appeared on the scene.’

She has a point, Jack conceded. And a very good one at that.

‘Let’s say that Renata did go as everyone believed. Now the coast is clear Josie decides to make her move. Maybe she went to the house
and created a scene or perhaps Mrs Manders found her with Alec. We know his mother had a violent temper and wasn’t afraid to lash out. What if
she
killed Josie? Alec would have gone out of his way to protect his mother, even now, even after her death. If I’m right, he isn’t lying, even if he hid the body.’

‘That makes sense,’ Jack said quietly. Rose was right, perhaps they had been making complications where there were none. But how would they get a man like Manders to own up to what his mother may have done? ‘But a woman?’

‘She used to hit Jenny, Jack, she was a strong woman. Maybe she picked up something to use as a weapon or it could have been accidental. Maybe Josie fell and struck her head. Anyway, at least you know who killed Jenny.’ Rose frowned. ‘You still haven’t said why?’

‘He won’t tell us, although we now know that Jenny wanted to move back in with him and Angela.’

‘He’d hardly murder her for that. All he had to do was to say no.’

‘Yes. Unless Jenny had something over him and threatened to use it if he didn’t agree.’

‘What? You mean you think she knew the truth about Josie?’

‘Possibly. Or maybe she’d come to the conclusion that her mother wasn’t alive.’

Rose shrugged and stood to refill their mugs. ‘But she wouldn’t have had any proof and all Alec had to do was deny it. No, there has to be another reason. Hold on, didn’t Jenny spend some time in London, after she came back from Paris?’

‘She did. But what we don’t know is if she visited her mother, or Josie, at the address Manders had been given.’

‘I see what you mean.’ Rose leant against the edge of the sink. ‘That means I’m wrong. If Jenny went to that address and discovered it wasn’t her mother but her mother’s friend then she’d have no difficulty guessing what may have happened.’

‘Quite. Anyway, Manders has had experience of fishing and mining and he also has a van. He’d have had no trouble in disposing of either of the bodies, with or without help.’ Jack lit a cigarette and looked around for the ashtray. Reaching behind him he grabbed it from the worktop. ‘What I don’t understand is why he thought you were such a danger to him.’

Rose thought about it. ‘He’d met me, he knew I knew Jenny and liked her and Jenny probably told him about where I’d been painting. Then he
spots I have ulterior motives for visiting him and begins to think I know far more than I actually do. Of course, he’d also have heard that I’d reported those screams and that the police et cetera had been out there to investigate. I can’t imagine how he must’ve felt when you went back a second time and found the body. Naturally, he’d have blamed it all on me.

‘Anyway, surely DNA testing would prove whether or not the two dead women are related?’

‘It’s in hand, Rose,’ Jack said sternly, wondering if he ought to recommend her services to the Chief Constable. ‘I must go, Rose, I’ve things to do at the flat before I start work again tomorrow. And I really am sorry about your party.’ He stopped, his hand on the back door. ‘Those screams. They’re not connected to the murders even though they led us to the mine. One of your friends has it in for you. Please be careful, Rose.’

‘I know who it was. Can we forget it? She’s having treatment now.’

‘I was right. It was Stella Jackson.’

Rose did not reply. Jack took her silence for agreement and nodded but he still made no move to leave. ‘Did, uh, did Nick come to the party?’

‘He did.’

‘I see.’

‘Jack, I already explained I’m not seeing him. It’s definitely over. He lied to me on more than one occasion. Whatever your faults, and they’re plentiful, believe me, you’ve never done that.’

And with that ambiguous praise Jack laughed and went on his way.

It was May before Rose was satisfied that she now had enough good paintings to make it worthwhile contacting Geoff Carter, the man whom Stella had once advised her against going to see.

Geoff turned out to be down-to-earth and shrewd, a businessman who happened to be interested in art. He scrutinised her work, made a few notes and said he would be in touch. Rose left his gallery bitterly disappointed that he had said so little but at least she had tried. That was two days ago and she had not heard from him since. The year was not, as she had hoped, turning out to be any better than the previous one.

There had been no word from Nick since her party, but Rose was not sorry. If their paths crossed she would not avoid him but she saw now that he was a child and in need of constant attention. Daniel had rung once, puzzled by the fact that she no longer visited. Rose had found it hard to give a reason but there was no way in which she would allow someone like Stella to undermine her confidence again. She made excuses about being busy and left it to Daniel to ask his wife for the real reason – if he hadn’t guessed it already.

Peter Dawson had finally taken her to dinner. He was intelligent and entertaining company but her instincts told her to leave it at that. Apart from what he had told her about himself she guessed that he would find her fascinating as long as she remained unobtainable but if she allowed herself to feel anything for him she would end up hurt.

She was at a loose end. Laura and Trevor had gone away on holiday and would not be back for another week. Jack was in Plymouth on a course and Barry was tied up on various plans for the season which had started with the Easter weekend but would not be in full swing for another month or so.

Walking back along the Promenade after a trip to the library, Rose stopped to watch the sea, standing at a safe distance away from where it was sweeping up over the railings. It was a high tide, the water choppy but topped by a clear azure sky. Further down children screamed as they tried to dodge the spray but failed. A pair of herring-gulls perched on the railings, their heads into the wind. They flew off, drifting in an air current until the dog which had run towards them scampered past, then they returned to the same piece of rail. I’m as free as they are, Rose thought, watching the gulls. And with that cheerful thought she walked on home to find a postcard from Laura on the mat along with a letter from her mother.

It was another four days before Geoff Carter telephoned, by which time Rose had given up hope of hearing from him again. ‘How about the last week of June?’ he said. ‘If you agree I’ll contact the local papers right away. There isn’t much time.’

‘Yes, that’s fine.’ Rose wanted to shout with joy. Had he said June the following year she would still have agreed.

‘Have you got any more I haven’t seen?’

‘A couple. They’re smaller.’

‘Well, let me have a look at them. I can come
to you if you like, it’ll save you packing them up and driving in.’

‘Thank you, that’ll be great. Whenever you like.’

There was a pause while he checked his diary. ‘Tomorrow, some time between four thirty and five. Will that be convenient?’

‘Yes. I’ll see you then.’ Rose hung up, unaware that Geoff had been about to say something else. ‘Yes!’ she cried punching the air. Tears of pure joy sparkled in her eyes. ‘Hello?’ She grabbed the phone which had started to ring again.

‘Mrs Trevelyan,’ Geoff Carter said, his voice deadpan, ‘it would help if I had your address.’

Rose laughed and gave it to him, not caring if he thought she was scatty. It was one of the happiest moments of her life. I shall celebrate, she decided. But with whom? She could ring Peter but it might not mean much to him, having already established his own reputation many years previously. It had to be Barry, she realised. Barry who had supported her work all those years and had encouraged her to improve. He had always stood by her and he would be genuinely pleased for her.

He sounded harassed when he picked up the phone but mellowed when he knew who was
calling. ‘You’re treating me? In that case there can only be one answer. Best bib and tucker?’

‘Nothing less will do.’

‘Why?’

‘I’ll tell you later. I’ll pick you up in a taxi at seven thirty. Be ready.’

Too excited to think about work of any description, Rose rang her mother who could not stop telling her how proud she was. ‘We’ll come down, darling. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

Rose said she would let her know the exact date as soon as she found it out herself. ‘You have to be there on the opening night,’ she insisted.

I can’t stay indoors, Rose decided. Adrenalin surged through her. She threw on a jacket and almost ran down the path. She found herself nearly at the railway station before she realised how far she had come and stopped to draw breath. Checking her purse she saw that she had her credit card and rail card. Truro, with its shops, beckoned. A new outfit was required. She would wear it this evening then save it for her opening.

As if her luck had changed all at once, this mission was soon accomplished and Rose returned with three plastic bags. She had purchased a calf-length
cream dress. It was sleeveless and hung simply from the shoulders. To go with it was a lace jacket in a darker shade of cream. The third bag contained strappy shoes with two-inch heels and a small matching evening bag and she had not even blinked at the prices.

Barry’s eyes widened with surprise twice in quick succession. First at her outfit, which he said was stunning, especially with her auburn hair flowing over her shoulders, and secondly when she told him she was taking him to Harris’s, a restaurant where media people ate when they were filming in the area. But when they arrived and Rose ordered champagne and told him her reasons he took both her hands in his and kissed her hard. ‘I am so thrilled for you,’ he said. ‘I always knew you’d make it.’

‘I haven’t exactly made it, but it’s a start.’

They were in the upstairs bar, picking at olives and crisps as they sipped their drinks. Having been shown down the curved stairs to their table they talked all evening in the way of old friends and Rose found herself feeling closer than ever to Barry.

‘And now you must allow me to escort you home. I’ll get the taxi to drop me back afterwards.’

Rose almost floated into the house. And
tomorrow Geoff was coming to look at the rest of her work and finalise the details of her exhibition. She felt there was nothing more she could wish for.

 

‘They’re good,’ he said simply and without exaggeration. ‘We’ll exhibit these as well. You’ll need to get some invitations done for the preview. We can hold up to sixty guests.’

‘I don’t think I know sixty people.’

‘Well, whatever. How do you want to play it? Wine and food or just coffee and biscuits? It depends on what you can afford.’

‘Wine and food.’ If it turned out to be her only exhibition at least she would have done the thing properly. ‘Thanks for coming, Geoff.’

‘My pleasure.’ He hesitated, his hand on the kitchen door. Rose waited but he did not speak. Instead he glanced back over his shoulder and smiled.

It was after six but the evening felt more like summer than late spring. The change had occurred all of a sudden. One minute it was winter, the next there were days like this. Rose sat at the kitchen table and wrote down the names of everyone she could think of, even casual acquaintances. She would invite them all to her opening night.
The shadow of a figure passing the window slid across the table. It was Jack Pearce. She beckoned for him to come in.

‘Busy?’ he asked, seeing her list.

‘No.’ She told him her news and said he would receive an invitation.

‘I’m honoured. And well done, Rose. I really mean that.’

‘You look better.’

‘Better?’

‘Mm. Less tired than last time I saw you.’

‘You mean more handsome.’

‘Honestly, Jack.’

Rose thought back to January and the day Jack rang to tell her that Renata Manders had been found. She had not received Alec’s letter because he had not written. Renata had been in Scotland staying with friends for the whole of the Christmas period. Only upon her return did she learn of the death of the daughter she had never really known and the fact that her ex-husband had killed her. She had travelled down to Cornwall to visit the grave.

‘And did Jenny visit her?’ Rose had asked.

‘Yes. Once. But they didn’t hit it off at all. That’s the odd thing, Renata claims she didn’t say anything particularly derogatory about Manders,
only that he treated her badly and was having an affair, but Alec has now admitted that when Jenny asked to be taken in by him and he refused, she said, “I know what you did. How can you live with it?” She meant driving her mother away, but he thought there was a more sinister meaning.’

‘Why wasn’t Josie missed at the time?’

‘Only child of parents past the prime of youth. Father dead, mother senile and in a home for the elderly in Devon. Once we had the DNA results we spoke to Manders again. We knew by then it wasn’t Renata but it still could have been a stranger. This time he came up with the goods. His mother knew what Josie was up to and thought Alec might be keen to go along with it and move her in. There was a row, as we suspected, but Josie didn’t fall, Agnes struck her with a poker.’

‘My God. But wouldn’t that have shown up on the postmortem or whatever it is you do with bones?’

‘Not necessarily. It depends upon where the blow connected with the skull, and there were many other post-mortem injuries.’

And Renata had gone to London with a man who had befriended her whilst on holiday in Cornwall. They were still together, although
Renata refused to marry him. ‘Never again,’ she had told the police.

Rose had said to Jack at the time that if Renata had taken Jenny with her she’d still be alive.

‘Probably, but even that’s not certain,’ he’d replied. ‘Fate is a strange creature.’

Rose thought back to her years with David and knew it was true. Jack had gone on to explain that Manders had made a mistake, he had wanted Jenny unconscious when he put her in the water to make it look as though she’d drowned, but had not realised his own strength. There had been no love lost between father and daughter and, Jack had said, more murders were committed amongst families than otherwise.

It’s in the past now, Rose told herself. And now it’s time to celebrate. ‘Would you like a drink? To my success?’

Jack’s expression showed that he was astonished she had not got one in front of her already. ‘Good idea. Thanks.’

‘Cheers,’ Rose said, handing him a glass of chilled white. ‘Here’s to us. Things seem to be working out well for us both.’ Jack had had some good results workwise.

‘Not as well as I’d hoped in some directions,’ Jack said morosely. ‘How’s Peter?’ He was not
sure how she would take this but he could not stop himself from asking.

The cuffs of the baggy shirt Rose was wearing had slipped down over her hands. She took several seconds in which to fold them back. ‘I don’t know. It’s ages since I’ve seen him. To be honest, Jack, I don’t have the inclination to keep in touch with any of them. Only Maddy. She’s a different person now. She’s heard from the adoption people, you know. It’s only an initial inquiry but it’s a start and it’s given her so much to hope for. I’m praying the girl won’t change her mind about contacting her mother.’

‘Yes, let’s hope not.’ Jack studied his fingers. ‘Rose, would you let me take you out to celebrate? Just dinner. No strings attached.’

‘Thank you, I’d like that.’ She took in his handsome face, his large, well-formed body and his strong hands, recalling how they had felt on her own body, and was sad that, although for her it was over, Jack still wished it was otherwise. But they would probably end up killing each other if they lived under the same roof. ‘Jack?’

‘What is it?’ He smiled kindly at the look of concern on her face.

‘Thank you for being my friend.’

‘I’ll always be that, Rose. Always.’

She nodded. ‘I know. And me yours.’ There were a few beats of thoughtful silence before Rose looked up, excitement in her eyes. ‘Anyway, did I tell you what Geoff said?’

Jack groaned and put his head in his hands. Without meeting Rose’s eyes he asked, ‘And who the hell is Geoff?’

Rose grinned. She wasn’t quite ready to answer that yet, but she had had the impression that he had winked as well as smiled when he had paused at her kitchen door.

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