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Authors: Janie Bolitho

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Killed in Cornwall (9 page)

BOOK: Killed in Cornwall
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‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Rose made several other calls to let people know she was back and that the news was good.

‘Did you hear about the murder?’ Doreen
asked once she was satisfied that Evelyn Forbes was on the road to recovery.

‘I did.’

‘What is the world coming to? Anyway, I’m still trying to get Nathan sorted out. He refuses to have anyone coming in, he says he looked after his mother he can look after himself.’

‘But surely the house is too big for him to cope with.’

‘I know that, ’e just won’t listen to sense. And if you ask me, that’s one stubborn man. It’s just sinking in, the fact that he won’t ever see Phyllis again. I called in yesterday, just to take him some saffron cake, I’ve got some for you, by the way, and he was just sitting there, curtains drawn, on a lovely day like that. Mind you, he was clean and shaved and the house was tidy. He’s moved Phyllis’s bed out of the sitting-room, too. Could you have a word with him, he’d have no truck with counsellors. You’ve always been a one for getting people out of the doldrums.’

‘I’ll think about it, Doreen, I’ve got a few things to catch up on first.’

‘Course you have, maid. I’ll speak to you soon.’

Rose hung up. People did tend to confide in her, to tell her things they wouldn’t tell close
relatives or friends. She never had been able to understand why that should be, unless it was simply because she wasn’t close. Two requests to talk to people in the short space of time since her return. What would Jack make of that? ‘Damn it, I’ll have to phone him,’ she said, wondering why she felt so nervous. Later, she decided. He would be too busy with work to take personal calls, even if he was in his office.

She was in the kitchen making a tentative plan of where she would work which, as always, depended upon the weather, when a figure appeared in the doorway. It was Eva.
What now?
she thought irritably. I’ve only been back five minutes and everyone seems to need my attention. But the kitchen door was open, there was no escape. Too late she recalled Jack’s advice about locking it at all times.

‘I’m sorry to turn up like this, but I was in Penzance and I wondered if you’d heard about any jobs.’

Rose had forgotten she’d intended to ask around. The sort of employment Eva was after was usually gained by word of mouth. Surely she hadn’t come out of her way when a telephone call would have sufficed? ‘I’m sorry, Eva. I’ve been away. I’ll let you know if I do hear of anything.
No luck at the job centre or through the paper?’

She shook her head. Even though she was troubled she was still lovely. Rose glanced at the kitchen clock. It was already after five. The afternoon had disappeared and she had had her fill of tea. ‘What is it, Eva?’ She looked as if she was about to start crying.

‘I don’t know. Everything.’

Rose pulled out a chair and sat her in it. She handed her a tissue from the box on the fridge and decided that she might as well open a bottle of Chardonnay and listen to what Eva had to say. She realised it was one of the more expensive ones she had been keeping for a special occasion. ‘Tell me about it?’ she said as she placed their drinks on the table and sat down. The wine was well chilled, condensation formed on the sides of the glasses almost immediately. Rose took a sip. Well worth the extra money, she thought as Eva searched for the words with which to speak.

‘It’s not just a job, although that’s beginning to get to me. There isn’t much to do at the caravan and I can’t let Dave keep me for much longer.’ She sighed and brushed back the dark strands of hair. ‘It’s Dave,’ she said, very quietly. ‘He worries me.’

‘In what way?’

‘We have no secrets. Oh, I can’t expect you to believe that, but after what we’ve both been through, that’s how we wanted it. My problem is, Rose, I just don’t have anyone else to talk to. I don’t really know anyone down here yet.’

‘Eva, whatever you tell me won’t go any further unless you want it to.’

‘The thing is, I don’t know where Dave was on the Sunday night that girl was raped. And there’ve been a couple of other occasions since when he hasn’t said where he’s been. I know it sounds crazy, he’s a kind, gentle man, but that’s how he is with me. You see, I know there’ve been cases when the closest people are the last to know.’

‘You seriously think he has raped one girl, attacked another and killed a third?’ Even though Rose had had her own suspicions she was shocked to hear Eva voice them.

‘No. Not really.’ But the doubt was there.

‘I take it you have asked him?’

‘Yes. He says he can’t tell me. He was out last night, until very late. I pretended to be asleep, I couldn’t go through that again, asking questions and not knowing the answer.’

Sunday. It was a Sunday that Lucy Chandler had been raped.

‘And he said he was working during the day. He rarely does that, unless he’s really behind because of the weather.’

‘I understand your concern, Eva, but what do you expect me to do?’

‘Nothing. I just wanted to tell someone, to see if it sounded as far-fetched to someone else. I just don’t know what to do. Do you think I should tell the police? I’d have to do it anonymously, I couldn’t bear for Dave to know even if he was guilty.’

‘That must be your decision. Apart from his not telling you where he was, has anything else made you suspicious?’

She chewed the side of her thumbnail then took a sip of her wine. Rose thought she wasn’t going to answer. ‘He’s got a plaster on his hand. He said he’d torn it on some barbed wire. The paper said the second girl bit her attacker on the hand. He hasn’t taken the plaster off yet. Well, if he’s changed it, it’s not been when I’ve been around.’

‘But he’s working with earth, he can’t afford to get dirt in the wound.’

‘I’ve told myself that, too. Rose, please tell me, what should I do?’

All these things had crossed Rose’s mind
before she had learnt of her mother’s illness. She had not known what to do herself, how could she possibly advise Eva who obviously loved the man? ‘Do you know someone called Rod Hill?’

‘No.’ Eva frowned. ‘Wait, the name does ring a bell. I think Dave may have done some work for him. Why?’

‘Oh, it isn’t important. More wine?’ She got up to pour it hoping Eva wouldn’t question her further. ‘Look, I think the police ought to know. I don’t know Dave as you do, but I find it very hard to believe him capable of such things. On the other hand, as you said, you can’t always judge. I know someone who would treat the situation sympathetically. Would you trust me to tell him? I won’t even mention your name.’

‘Yes. Yes, I think that’s best. I can’t live with this uncertainty. I love him, Rose, I’ll still love him whatever he’s done, but I couldn’t live with him, protecting him, like some women do, knowing he’d hurt someone. There’s been enough violence in my life.’

‘All right, leave it to me. You don’t think you might be in any danger, do you?’

‘No. Strange as that sounds, I really don’t.’

‘Fine. I’ll ring Dave if I do hear of a job.’

‘Thank you.’ Eva stood up. She was silhouetted
against the sunshine streaming through the kitchen door. She looked almost ethereal as she reached for her bag that was on the floor. ‘Thank you for listening. I know I shouldn’t have come, but there was no one else, and you were kind to me when I was here with Dave.’ She smiled wanly. ‘I could see you really wanted to be getting on with some work.’

‘I’ll be in touch, Eva.’ Rose watched her walk down the drive. Now I’ll really have to ring Jack, Rose thought.

 

Everyone connected with the three girls had been interviewed more than once but Inspector Jack Pearce was convinced that the person they were looking for did not know them. The girls had not known one another and there seemed to be no common denominator. It has to be the same person, Jack thought as he had packed up for the day on Monday. No weapon had been used. Lucy Chandler had received blows from a fist, as had Helen Trehearne, although not so many and she had managed to get away. Nichola Rolland had been manually strangled. Whoever it was did not go about armed. Not yet, at least. It was the
not yet
which worried Jack. Another murder must be prevented.

He thought about Laura as he drove home. Laura and Rose had known the identity of Lucy Chandler and neither of them had mentioned it to him. And Lucy Chandler was keeping something back, as was her boyfriend, Jason Evans. He had been interviewed early that morning.

‘We went for a drive and stopped for a drink,’ Jason had explained. ‘We had a row, it started from nothing, and she walked out on me.’

‘You didn’t follow her?’

‘No. I stayed in the pub for a while then I drove home.’

Hardly gallant, Jack had thought, but it wasn’t a crime. The barmaid had confirmed his story up to the time he had left.

And Jason’s description did not fit the very sketchy one he had been given by Helen Trehearne. Lucy had not been able to provide one at all. Why not? Too many questions. I’m going to forget it all for this evening and have a few pints myself, he decided.

He parked outside his flat and let himself in. It was stuffy. Being at street level he could not leave any windows open when he was out. He poured a beer and opened the back door. From the other side of the high fence separating him from his neighbour came the irritating buzz of
a lawn-mower. The fragrance of newly cut grass was in the air. Jack stood still, his face to the sun, deciding which hostelry would have the benefit of his custom, when he was disturbed by the telephone. He went in to answer it.

‘Hello, Jack. I’m glad I caught you. There’s something, well, I think I need to talk to you.’

I bet you do, he thought, angry anew that she had not told him about her mother. She knew how much he liked and respected her parents. ‘Oh?’

‘Would it be convenient if I came over?’

‘Yes, give me half an hour. I need a shower.’ No point in saying no. He wanted, perhaps needed to hear what she had to say. And he wanted to see her far more than he wanted a solitary drink.

He heard the doorbell from the back garden where he had taken two chairs. It was too warm to sit indoors.

Rose stood on the doorstep clutching a bottle of wine, an anxious expression on her face. Without thinking, Jack bent to kiss her. She smelt of the perfume he had bought her and was wearing a dress. This must be serious. ‘I was having a beer but we’ll have the wine if you prefer?’

‘I do.’ She followed him into the house.

‘Go and sit outside, I won’t be a minute.’ Having seen her he couldn’t understand why he had felt so angry. She had that effect on him. ‘Okay, what do you have to tell me?’

Rose took a deep breath. For a second she thought he knew about Tony. ‘I’ve promised I wouldn’t say how I found out, you’ll have to respect that, Jack, but it seems that someone I know was missing on the night that Lucy was raped. Added to that, he has a plaster on his hand.’

She’s gabbling, she doesn’t want to be telling me this. And why is her face red? ‘I see. Am I allowed to know the name of this person?’

Rose closed her eyes. She felt as if she was betraying both Dave and Eva. ‘Dave Fox, my gardener.’

‘Ah, the man about whom you managed to find out so much in such a short time.’

‘Are you being sarcastic?’ Rose felt angry, but she was aware her anger was misdirected. It was herself she was angry with for running to him with tales. But it was also the fact that, face to face with him she felt even more ashamed of what had taken place with Tony Boyd.

‘No. So shall I go and pick him up?’

‘I don’t know what you should do, Jack. I just thought you ought to know.’

‘Just like you thought I ought to know that you and Laura were aware of Lucy Chandler’s identity and the fact that she had a boyfriend whose name you knew. It seems to me, Rose, that you only feel I ought to know things when it suits you.’

She stood and handed him her glass. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have come. It’s always the same. I think I’m being helpful and you turn on me. I can’t help it if people tell me things they won’t tell you. It’s no wonder, if you speak to them the way in which you speak to me.’ Her eyes burned. I’m about to cry, she thought. How bloody ridiculous.

Jack saw the tears rise and cursed himself. He put his hand on her arm. ‘There’s no need for you to leave. At least drink the wine first. And tell me, Rose, how’s Evelyn?’

And then she did cry. She had not realised how much emotion she had hidden from her friends and, especially, from her father. ‘She’s all right,’ she finally said. ‘They think she’s over the worst. It was just such a shock. She’s always been so fit and healthy, then suddenly, just like that she was in hospital. She looked so small in that bed, Jack. So small and vulnerable.’

He reached out and stroked her hair. ‘It’s okay. It sounds as if she’ll pull through.’

‘I know. But you should’ve seen Dad. He was pretending he’d be all right whatever happened but I could see what he was going through.’

He topped up her glass although she’d hardly touched her drink. Tonight there would be no more talk of work. Rose had come to him with information which may or may not be relevant. He would get someone else to deal with that. Now was the time to try to repair any rift between them. ‘Have you eaten?’ She shook her head. ‘Then you have two choices, we can go out or you can chance my cooking?’

‘I’m not very hungry.’

‘You have to eat. Which is it to be?’

‘Your cooking then.’

‘I’ll just see what delights the fridge reveals. You stay there.’ He knew what there was to eat but he wanted to make that telephone call out of her hearing. ‘I’m not sure of the best way of approaching this. Perhaps something along the lines that we know he works at various properties in the relevant areas and we wondered if he’d noticed any of these girls. Make sure he knows we’re questioning everyone. If he’s in the clear and thinks we’ve singled him out he’ll have reason to complain. And find out if he’s ever done any work for any of the girls’ parents.’

BOOK: Killed in Cornwall
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