Death of a Friend (17 page)

‘But they like Richmond,’ Alexis had argued.

‘They do
now
,’ Martha agreed. ‘I seem to remember it took them about two years before they’d even raise a smile at his jokes.’

Charlie hadn’t seemed bothered about the
boys’ behaviour. He never made any special efforts to win their approval and Alexis had been frustrated by this, compensating for it as much as she could by suggesting he take Hugh and Clem with him when he went to look for fox earths or badger setts. Nobody had been very enthused by her suggestions, although once or twice she’d successfully insisted they all three go off together.

Part of her unhappiness now was due to the knowledge that she had been less than honest with Charlie and with herself, in the final weeks of his life. She had let him believe she was fully committed to their relationship, that she might even consider marrying him at some future date. He had begun talking about their future to other people, with a silly grin of complacency that had made her cringe. She’d even heard him say to the boys one day that he, Charlie, would ‘fill in’ for the absent Nev, once he was living there full-time. Nina had also heard him. ‘Steady on, Charlie,’ she’d called out crossly. ‘They don’t need any of that while they’ve got me. Nobody’s “filling in” for anybody, okay?’

Alexis hadn’t wanted to get involved. It was one thing to try and ensure that Hugh and Clem liked Charlie, and quite another for him to offer his services as a substitute father. If she did go through with it and marry the man, she supposed she’d have to go the whole hog and produce two
or three babies in due course, for him to father for real. Not that she’d ever encouraged him to broach that particular subject with her. She had been miles away from that sort of decision – and now she’d never have to make it at all.

A noise outside drew her to the window: a clash of metal on metal, followed by some shouting. Easily alarmed now, she found she was shaking before she even focused on what had happened.

A pickup truck had come to a halt part way down their drive, alongside a large Range Rover. The drive was not wide enough for two such big vehicles – a fact both drivers appeared to have ignored. The two vehicles were in uncomfortably close contact. The man who’d been driving the pickup was standing in front of the Range Rover and Richmond was trotting down to join him. Alexis knew only too well the identity of the woman sitting in dignified immobility in the vehicle, in complete certainty that none of this was her fault.

Alexis sighed and clasped her hands together. The last thing she wanted to face was a visit from her sister’s mother-in-law. But what Alexis might or might not want was, as always, of total unconcern to Hermione Nesbitt.

Den’s discovery of the file on Clem Nesbitt had brought an urgent need to return to High Copse. ‘You’d better both go,’ DI Smith decreed, when Den had managed to locate him and explain his findings. Neither Den nor Phil had even considered arguing with him.

In the car they discussed strategy. ‘The father first,’ said Phil. ‘Then Uncle Richmond. That takes care of the men, though I guess the most likely scenario is that it was Charlie.’

‘If you ask me, the most likely scenario is that nothing happened at all. It was a storm in a teacup, a false alarm. Social Services couldn’t find anything.’

‘Couldn’t
prove
anything,’ Phil corrected him. ‘It’s not the same thing.’

‘Same outcome. If they couldn’t when it was first reported, what chance have we got now?’

‘You might be surprised,’ said Phil.

‘So are we thinking that the family somehow got together, six months later, and killed Charlie collectively?’ Den leant his head on the rest behind him and stared at the roof of the car. ‘The timing stinks, if so. They’d have been far too preoccupied by what had just happened to Nina, wouldn’t they? And Alexis was his
girlfriend
.’

Phil snorted. ‘Grow up, Den. Picture this – Alexis catches him fingering the little lad one day. Or worse. Wouldn’t you say she’d be the
most
likely to want to tear his head off – or something rather nastier? Because she’d been deceived? And if she enlisted Martha and Richmond – and maybe the old grandma too, for good measure – they’d be very nearly as outraged as she was. It’s a theory, anyhow.’

‘It could fit,’ Den agreed slowly. ‘Especially if it was planned in advance. I’ve been worrying about who would know Charlie was going to be in the field at that particular time. Even so, I still think someone might have come across him by accident and decided to seize the opportunity to wipe out a nuisance.’

‘You
prefer
to think that because you’ve got friendly with the family,’ Phil accused. ‘Have to be objective, mate. It’s the only way.’

‘I know. But I can’t see it. This whole abuse stuff’s too much of a cliché. Too obvious. And which one of them would you put down as the horse rider? As the one who actually finished him off? They
knew
him. He was part of the family. As a means of execution, it’s ludicrous. They’d have had much better opportunities. A massive dose of sleeping pills in his tea, for example. And why wait six months?’

‘Well, just hang on to the possibility for now,’ Phil insisted. ‘We can put it to them and see how they react.’

Den pulled a face. ‘Ludicrous,’ he muttered.

‘We’re there, look. Brace yourself.’

Den felt even more uneasy as he stood on the doorstep of the farmhouse waiting for someone to answer their knock. This was his fifth visit in a week and they were hardly any closer to a resolution. Every time the murder ran through his head, all theories seemed fatally flawed. Even if one of the Cattermoles had got hold of a horse and mown Charlie down with it, he assumed they’d have their story word-perfect by this time. The theory that Charlie had been killed for abusing young Clement made no sense to him, given what he knew of the family. They were unusual, even eccentric, but he didn’t think they could be guilty of anything as malign and underhand as that.

Nevil, Richmond and Alexis were all at home. Martha would get back from school at about four that afternoon and the boys would come on the school bus soon after that. Phil and Den decided to start with Nev.

Den could see the man was unnerved by a second police interview in two days, despite the earlier warning that there were still details to be pursued. They asked him for the precise date he had left for Vietnam the previous year; he answered with some difficulty. Fetching a battered rucksack from his room, he upended it and finally unearthed a boarding pass for a flight to Hanoi on 20th September. The anonymous call about Clem had been made two days later. When told about it, Nev was impressively shocked.

‘Abuse?’ he gasped. ‘Do you mean
sexual
abuse?’

‘There was a suspicion of that, yes,’ said Phil firmly.

‘Rubbish,’ affirmed Nev. ‘Total and absolute rubbish.’

‘How can you be so sure? You haven’t had very much continuous contact with your sons, have you? Do you think you’d notice if something like that had been troubling them?’ Phil was finding his feet rapidly. As Den took notes he watched the interviewee’s face closely; Nev had gone pale and his hands were rigid claws on the table in
front of him. The accusation of abuse certainly seemed to have taken him by surprise.

‘Wait a minute,’ Nev objected. ‘Who exactly are you accusing of this … this—’

‘Outrage?’ Phil suggested blandly. ‘We’re making no accusations, sir. We’re just putting you in the picture. In the light of Charlie Gratton’s death, you wouldn’t be surprised to hear—’

‘Oh, I get it.’ Nev shook his head in relieved amusement. ‘You think it was Charlie, and when they found out, the family closed ranks and bumped him off.’

‘They?’ shot Den, remembering his previous interview with Nevil. ‘Why do you think we wouldn’t be including you?’

‘Ah. Well, I grant you I could just conceivably have made it down here in time to do the deed, but how do you suggest I took part in the conspiracy with the others? Long-distance phone calls? Emails?’

‘Neither is impossible,’ said Phil. ‘Far from it.’

‘But it didn’t happen. All I can do is ask you to believe that. And—’ he looked suddenly alert, ‘what about poor old Clem? What’s going to happen to him with all this innuendo flying about?’

‘Why should anything happen?’

Nev glowered. ‘As I understand it, kids get
taken into care if there’s even a suspicion of anything like this going on at home.’

‘I don’t think we need worry about that,’ Den said, feeling a pang of sympathetic alarm. ‘Not at the moment, anyway. Social Services are no longer pursuing the matter.’

Phil sighed and said there were no more questions. Den quickly contradicted him. ‘Just one,’ he said. Phil and Nev both raised their eyebrows expectantly.

‘When exactly do you plan to return to Vietnam?’

‘Oh … no plans at all for that,’ Nev replied easily, relief clear in his voice.

‘Then why buy a return ticket?’ Den pounced.

Nev blinked at the swiftness of the question, but soon recovered his composure. ‘Because,’ he said patiently, ‘I had no idea what I would find here, for one thing. Plus it costs pretty much the same as a one-way. Plus … well, I’m the sort of guy who likes to keep his escape routes open. The ticket might be handy to have.’ He turned his head from one to the other, relaxed and boyish now the session was almost over.

Richmond was even more thunderstruck at the detectives’ revelation. ‘Why didn’t anybody tell us at the time?’ he demanded. ‘Were we being investigated without ever knowing it? Where did
such a filthy idea come from – that’s what I want to know.’

When Phil suggested a family execution of Charlie might have taken place, Richmond’s disbelieving laughter seemed genuine. He reminded them that he had found the body himself. ‘And don’t think something like that could have been carried out without my knowing about it,’ he said flatly. ‘The idea’s absolute nonsense. A waste of time even talking about it. Besides, if Social Services had taken it seriously, they’d have informed us. We know nothing whatsoever about this allegation. That proves it was completely groundless.’

Alexis was far more furious. Once she’d grasped the full import of what was being mooted, her mouth dropped open. ‘
Charlie
?’ she repeated incredulously, her colour deepening. ‘You must be mad. Christ Almighty, the idea’s
insane
. Clem’s never been abused, sexually or in any other way. We
love
him. He’s surrounded by people who want more than anything for him to be happy and secure. If you want my opinion, you should be looking for the dirty-minded nutcase who made the accusation in the first place. I don’t suppose you’ll tell me who it was.’

Den and Phil exchanged glances and Phil gave a small nod. ‘It was anonymous,’ said Den softly.

‘There you are, then!’ she triumphed. ‘Someone with a grudge against us. When did you say this was?’

‘Last September,’ Den told her.

‘Well, nobody ever came to see us about it,’ she said firmly. ‘They must have known it was crazy from the start.’

‘Possibly,’ said Phil. ‘There might have been some sort of investigation through the school. Perhaps his mother was contacted. We’re still checking that.’

Alexis shook her head fiercely. ‘No way. She’d have told us.’

Literally drawing a line in his notes under that particular subject, Den looked her full in the face. ‘Can we backtrack a bit?’ he asked. ‘Just a few loose ends from my interview last week.’

‘Go on,’ she invited sulkily.

‘Who would you say was closest to Charlie, after yourself? Who was he most fond of?’

‘You’re asking his girlfriend that? Well, to the best of my knowledge, I’d say Nina, his aunt Hannah and Nev. He worked very closely with Nina on the protests – they supported each other. He was very upset when she died.’

‘He was devastated,’ said Den quietly. ‘I saw him.’

‘Who wouldn’t be? Nobody should die like that.’

‘And perhaps he blamed himself,’ Phil ventured.

Alexis shook her head, the mass of thick hair a dense cloud around her narrow face. ‘I don’t think so. No way was it his fault.’

‘So how would you describe him in the days after Nina died?’

‘Oh, I don’t know.’ She scowled impatiently. ‘I didn’t see much of him, and we were all so busy the whole time. He was around on Sunday morning, and then – as we’ve all told you a dozen times – none of us can remember seeing him after that.’

‘And would you disagree with the word “devastated” as a description of how he took her death?’ Phil nodded towards Den as the eyewitness.

Again she shook her head. ‘He might have been. He took things to heart. That was the main thing about Charlie – he was very thin-skinned.’

The police detectives withdrew after that. ‘What do you think?’ Den asked his colleague, once they were again in the car and out of earshot.

‘They weren’t happy, were they?’

‘They were horrified.’

‘But then, people generally are,’ Phil added. ‘They don’t like the idea of something like that affecting their own family.’

‘So where to now?’ asked Den.

‘The nearest pub,’ Phil told him. ‘We can talk about it then.’

They found a pub advertising
BAR SNACKS
and sat in a deserted saloon to assess their progress. ‘We’re going to have to see Hermione Nesbitt,’ Den said urgently. ‘She ought to have been interviewed days ago. Her name comes up too often.’

Phil shrugged. ‘Yeah, but what’s she going to tell you? She loves her grandsons, enjoys the hunt and probably thinks her son’s a wastrel. Which he is,’ he added forcefully. ‘Typical spoilt little rich boy.’

‘She missed Nina’s funeral,’ said Den. ‘Accidentally on purpose. And she was a close friend of Charlie’s mother. She knows – or knew – Frank Gratton. I don’t know about you, but I’ve got plenty to ask her.’

‘Not a Quaker as well, is she? Just to neaten everything off.’

Den shook his head. ‘But she keeps and rides horses. On that fact alone, she should be seen.’

‘
Okay
, Den. I get the point. You go off and see her now, if you want to. She sounds pretty intimidating to me. I just hope she doesn’t eat you.’

‘I can’t,’ Den pointed out. ‘We’ve only got one car and we need to report back on this morning.’ He concentrated on his drink for a minute, then
started a new tack. ‘You ever been on a hunt, Phil?’

Phil shook his head with a grin. ‘Takes guts, though. Remember that chap last year, broke his back jumping a hedge? And those dogs are quite something, working in a pack. It’d be a shame if it was all banned, don’t you think?’

Den pushed out his lips. ‘Can’t say I’d care one way or the other.’

‘Well, it could still turn out that the Nesbitt woman’s accident does the trick. They haven’t confirmed a date for another Meet, you know. Probably scared of aggressive antis.’

‘That’s a funny thing,’ said Den absently. ‘Meet and Meeting.’

‘What?’

‘The words they use. For hunting it’s a Meet – for Quakers it’s a Meeting. Capital M both times. Maybe they’re not as different as they think they are.’

That afternoon DI Smith set them to combing through all the notes and tapes they’d made to date, watching for timings, checking and double-checking where each person claimed to have been for as much as possible of Sunday and Monday. Having listened to the feedback from that morning, he shook his head knowingly. ‘I didn’t think there’d be much mileage in it,’ he
said, much to Den’s annoyance. ‘Had to check it out though,’ he added kindly.

‘Shouldn’t someone go and see Mrs Nesbitt?’ Den persisted. ‘It’s a week since Charlie was found, and we still haven’t interviewed her. It’s been on my to-do list for days now.’

‘If there’s time,’ Smith agreed. ‘Otherwise it’ll wait until tomorrow. I doubt she’s going anywhere. You’ve got something about her in the notes, anyway, if I remember rightly. Didn’t she drop in on the family, on Monday last week?’

Den was impressed. The fact of a brief visit by Hermione on the Monday morning before Nina’s funeral had been a short two-line note buried amongst a scatter of scribbles. ‘She did,’ he confirmed. ‘Hugh had stayed the night with her and she was bringing him back.’

‘You need to see those boys again,’ Smith said, much to Den’s surprise. ‘Kids notice things. They pick up on atmospheres. And it wouldn’t hurt to try to have another look at the young one after this abuse accusation.’

‘I ought to have a WPC with me, then.’

‘I’m aware of that,’ Smith snapped. ‘Jane Nugent can go with you. She’s good at that sort of thing.’ He looked at his watch. ‘My, my, how the day flies! If you go at about three-thirty, the boys’ll just be getting home from school. Last day of term, if I’m not mistaken. They’ll be excited
– Easter eggs and all that. Keep it low-key. The family aren’t going to be too co-operative, seeing you back again so soon, but it would be good if you could get the kids on their own. Just for an informal chat. They might know the rules that say that’s not allowed – so try and get their Auntie Martha, if you have to have somebody there.’