Grave Concerns (10 page)

‘So, you’re saying we can have the funeral? That we can bury her here?’

The Coroner’s Office nodded. ‘So it seems. The Council are more than happy to pay your going rate – so there you have it. Funeral as soon as you like.’

Drew fought to keep nonchalent. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I assume you’ll keep the necklace, dentures and clothes just in case, as well as your samples?’

‘Naturally. We can match them up with anything that comes to light – but I’m not holding my breath.’

‘Right,’ Drew murmured. ‘So it’s going to be an unsolved mystery that everyone’ll just forget about.’
Nobody can say I’m not giving him
every chance
, he thought, and then reproached himself for being unfair. Stanley could hardly be expected to guess that Drew had a good idea of who the body was. He foresaw a need for some intensive rationalisation in the next few days, if he was to let Genevieve have her way. Although not particularly significant in legal terms, the fact of the imminent reburial was a big psychological milestone. ‘The inquest will say it’s Unlawful Killing, won’t it?’ he said unhappily.

‘Hard to see any other option,’ shrugged Stanley.

‘And we all assume she’s some homeless vagrant, or illegal immigrant, got herself the wrong side of a gang of yobboes, who had the decency to bury her so tidily here?’

‘You get a good class of yobbo round here,’ Stanley joked.

‘But that’s the theory?’

‘So it seems. As mysteries go, it’s a tame one, by any standards. The only interesting part of it to my mind is that the woman didn’t wear any knickers.’

Drew forced a ribald laugh, before getting back to business. ‘So that’s it, then.’

Stanley nodded and riffled through a cardboard folder that had been under his arm since he arrived. ‘You’ll speak to Fiona and fix a day and time with her? I’ve brought you the paperwork. This has been a lucky one for you. All that free publicity.’

‘Right,’ said Drew again, taking the Burial Order from Stanley’s outstretched hand.

The third event was the arrival of Karen, forty-five minutes later than usual, to collect Stephanie. A glance at her face told Drew why she was late and what news she had for him. She was alarmingly pale, but her smile was wryly pleased. ‘Due the first of September, God help us,’ she said. ‘At the best guess, that is. Could be at least a fortnight either way. I’m roughly twenty-two weeks, the doctor thinks. They’ll do a scan next Monday, which should date it more precisely. Unbelievable, isn’t it. It was highly embarrassing, let me tell you. I can’t imagine how we failed to notice.’

‘Never mind,’ Drew consoled. ‘I mean – that’s wonderful. It’ll be almost like having twins.’

‘Fifteen months’ gap between them. Could be worse, I suppose,’ she said glumly. ‘Let’s just hope Stephanie learns to walk before then. I said I wanted a home birth, by the way. I can’t face all that hospital nonsense again.’

‘Fabulous,’ said Drew, pulling her to him. ‘Now I’m excited.’ He kissed her neck, just under the ear. ‘And I’m going to start earning a lot more money. I’ve got myself a new job.’

She twisted away from him, stepping back in shock. ‘What?’

‘Don’t panic. I’ll still do this as well. But listen
to this – if it works out, I might be able to do it on a regular basis. I’ve got a commission as a private investigator – and I’ve found us a childminder. Don’t say I waste any time, will you?’

‘
Childminder?
’ She leant down and scooped Stephanie protectively into her arms, from where the child was crawling at her feet. ‘Who, for God’s sake?’

‘It’s a long story,’ he told her evasively. ‘Obviously, you’ll have to meet her first, make sure you approve.’ He didn’t dare tell Karen she’d already met the woman, for fear he would blush and arouse her curiosity. ‘She’s pregnant herself, as it happens,’ he added. ‘And it’s only for a few days, while I try and sort out what’s happened to her mother. She’s paying me two thousand pounds,’ he concluded triumphantly.

‘Her mother?’

‘Right. Her mother went missing last year.’

‘Drew – is this connected with that body?’

He became instantly defensive. ‘How did you work that out?’

She turned her back on him, to gather up Stephanie. ‘Don’t tell me about it now. You’ll have to give me this woman’s address. You can’t just dump my daughter on her before I’ve even met her. When is all this going to happen?’

‘I’m going to see her tomorrow, but—’

Karen sighed theatrically. ‘Well, if she isn’t
too far away, I suppose I could manage a quick visit this evening. Come on, Steph.’ She swung the baby from her hip to a tight embrace in both arms. ‘Time to go home. Leave Daddy to his detective games. Say bye-bye.’

Drew didn’t even try to argue, though he badly wanted to prevent the two women from meeting. ‘Fine,’ he said to her departing back.

Then he softened. After all, she had more to worry about than he did. He called after her, ‘We’ll be the envy of all our friends, with the two best babies you’ve ever seen.’

She didn’t turn round, but he could tell she was pleased.

Behind him a voice said ‘
Two
babies? Since when?’

Maggs had her hands on her hips like a Jamaican grandmother. ‘Nobody tells me anything,’ she accused.

‘We’ve only just found out. You’re the first to know,’ Drew placated her. ‘Aren’t you going to say congratulations?’

She frowned thoughtfully. ‘I might,’ she said. ‘If you promise I don’t have to look after either of them.’

‘You’re going to be too busy for that,’ he promised. ‘Now, listen. Tomorrow you’re in charge of the office all morning. I’m taking the van, so if there’s a call-out, you’ll have to put them on hold
until lunchtime. Shouldn’t be too difficult.’ One of the great improvements on his job at Plant’s was the lack of urgency manifested by his clients. Nobody so far had been in a rush to offload the body of their relative. Some hadn’t wanted him to remove it at all, until minutes before the burial, keeping it at home in a cool room, as was the usual practice in earlier times. The optimum time lapse from the death to the interment was three days – long enough for families to make their preparations, and short enough for the body to be still in an acceptable condition. He made it clear on his literature that the low prices reflected a low involvement on his part. He would advise, liaise, provide the ground for the grave, but beyond that the family were welcome to do the rest for themselves, if that’s how they wanted it. Additional assistance from Drew and Maggs would be charged for, item by item. So far, a surprising number of families did almost everything themselves.

‘OK,’ she shrugged, before changing the subject. ‘Can I plant some flowers in the hedges?’ She’d obviously decided she wasn’t going to lower herself by begging him for an explanation of where he was going next day. ‘Just a few things to make it more cheerful.’

‘Where will you get them from?’

She shrugged. ‘Garden centre.’

Drew shook his head. ‘I don’t think it’s as
simple as that. It wouldn’t be very easy to get any little bedding plants to survive amongst all that stuff – and we can’t afford anything big. You can send out more publicity leaflets, instead. Look through the Yellow Pages for likely places. Use your imagination. Schools, bookshops—’

‘Off-licences, car salesrooms, cinemas,’ she filled in for him.

He didn’t even try to follow her logic. ‘Whatever you think. We want to get everyone talking about us. Thinking to themselves,
Hmmm – that sounds nice.
And if anyone phones with an enquiry, make it all sound blissfully straightforward. You know all the answers to the usual questions, don’t you?’

She cast her eyes up to the sky. ‘Water courses no problem; no need for any special permission; hospital has to release the body to them or us; no special regulations about the coffin. How’m I doing?’

‘Fine. It’s all yours from nine tomorrow, OK?’

‘OK. And when you get back, maybe you’ll tell me where you’ve been.’

‘Maybe,’ he conceded. Remembering how distracted Karen was likely to be for the foreseeable future, he turned back to his assistant. ‘Maybe I will,’ he repeated. ‘I’ll be glad of some advice, I expect.’

Karen was worse than distracted. Having abandoned her plan, much to Drew’s relief, to pay Genevieve a visit of maternal inspection, saying she was too exhausted, she treated Drew to an evening of deep sighs and half-finished sentences, spiced with flashes of irritation. Then she went to bed early, giving him no chance to introduce the subject of the Slaters, unidentified bodies or funeral business of any kind. Preoccupied as he was with the prospect of seeing Genevieve again, and trusting her with his precious daughter, he felt Karen was letting him down. She should be there to listen to him – she was his wife, after all and the whole burden of Peaceful Repose rested on his shoulders. But she seemed entirely wrapped up in her own concerns.

And so it was next morning that he turned to Maggs for the support and encouragement he was lacking from his wife.

‘I think I ought to tell you what’s going on,’ he said stiffly, when she arrived promptly at nine. She watched his face intently, as she lifted off her helmet and unwound her scarf. Her face was purple from being whipped by the wind, and she was breathless.

‘Listen,’ he said. ‘You know that woman who came a couple of weeks ago? The pregnant one?’

Maggs nodded. ‘The one you knew from before, right?’

He blinked, immediately on his guard. ‘I did actually. How did you come to that conclusion?’

‘The way you looked at each other. So what about her?’

‘She’s got an idea that the dead woman Jeffrey found was her mother. But she’s not at all sure. She wants me to do a bit of quiet investigating, just to see if I can find out where her mother could be, before she bothers the police. She’s going to pay me,’ he hastened to assure her.

‘How much?’

He paused. ‘Two thousand quid,’ he muttered.

Maggs whistled, and stared at him even more intently. ‘She’s really bothered about it, then? I mean, there was a murder, wasn’t there? It isn’t just a bit of idle curiosity.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Drew – you’re not going to get in any trouble, are you? Don’t you think the police would like to be kept informed?’

Drew pulled his lips back from his teeth in a parody of agonised indecision. ‘That’s the problem,’ he admitted. ‘Strictly speaking, I’m sure we ought to at least pass the woman’s name on to them. But Genevieve promises me there’d be no way they could prove her identity the way things stand at the moment. She thinks her husband knows more than he’s letting on – but she’s convinced he’d lie to the police and only impede the enquiry. So – what I’m hoping is that I can
find some other avenue to explore. Her work, friends – all the stuff that’s got nothing to do with her family.’

‘And why can’t she do all that for herself? If she’s that interested, she ought to be the one to take the risks.’

He shook his head. ‘I suppose she thinks she’d just dig a deeper hole for Willard, and that would make her situation impossible. And she strikes me as the sort of person who instinctively pays other people to do their dirty work.’

‘Well, thanks for telling me,’ she said briskly. ‘I hope you’re going to let me lend a hand? I’d make a great detective, you know.’

‘I’m sure you would,’ he sighed.

Genevieve’s house was in a pretty village on the edge of rising ground; Drew savoured the colourful spring gardens and aubretia-decorated walls. Nobody in North Staverton was very interested in creating a display for almost non-existent passers-by. From the outside, the Slater house looked modestly impressive. Semi-detached, with a curving garden path leading to a door at the side, it obviously had a good number of rooms. At the back he could see a tidy garden.

She answered the door promptly, and Stephanie crowed in apparent recognition as soon as she laid eyes on Genevieve. Drew was sure her bulge had
grown in the days since he’d seen her. His insides were in a turmoil of apprehension.
Think of the money
he told himself. But that just heightened his suspicions that he was walking into a minefield. Why in the world was she offering him such a sum, anyway? Didn’t it throw all kinds of doubt on her motives? Suddenly she seemed to be going to a great deal of effort and expense to solve a dilemma she’d claimed to be rather casual about up to now. He tried to muster his thoughts, to phrase some probing questions that would have to be answered before he committed himself to anything further. Already he was wondering if he’d been a total fool to come this far.

She led him into a bright living room, the floor an expanse of polished boards, everything clean and shining. A three-seater settee and single matching chair; a television; a set of shelves containing a clock, two candlesticks, a set of china figurines and a large oriental-looking lacquered box was the only furniture. It was entirely different from how he’d imagined such a woman would live. She watched his reaction with a knowing smile.

‘Willard insists we keep things tidy in here,’ she said. ‘It’s the only room visitors ever get to see. We have a cleaning woman who takes complete control. I’ve got my own bolthole upstairs where I’m allowed to make a mess, and Willard keeps
the dining room like some sort of museum, full of dreadful old stuff that was his mother’s.’

‘I assume you’re on maternity leave?’

‘I stopped about three weeks ago, at my boss’s insistence. I was loafing about here, not knowing what to do with myself, flipping through Willard’s old newspapers, when I saw the piece about the woman in your burial ground. Good thing he’s such a hoarder, or I’d never have known. Funny how things happen. If I’d still been working with other things to think about, I could probably have persuaded myself that Mum’s perfectly all right – as Willard keeps insisting she is – and closed my eyes to the obvious similarities between your woman and her.’

‘Where can I put Stephanie?’ he asked, as the child wriggled to get out of his arms. ‘Is she all right on the floor?’ It was all beginning to feel so natural. Genevieve’s relaxed manner, Stephanie’s matching mood – why resist it? Just let her talk – there was no harm in that, after all. Act the counsellor, dig a bit deeper into the early years, when the boy Nathan was still alive. Maybe that was what she really wanted, anyway. Maybe the whole business about the dead woman would just quietly go away. Maybe elephants would learn how to play violins …