Mrs. Malory and A Time To Die (20 page)

 

I hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to Rosemary about Simon, but when I ran into her at the garden center, it seemed like a good moment.

“I’ve found these gorgeous hellebores,” she said. “Wonderful,
sinister
colors they’ll have, and, although I usually have a malign effect on practically everything I plant, I really couldn’t resist. How about you? Have you found anything?”

“Not really. I just wanted some more heathers to fill in the gaps on that bank by the gate. It’s always nice to have something blooming in the winter. Actually, have you got time for a coffee? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“There’s nothing special I should be doing and they do rather nice Danish pastries in the café here.”

When we were sitting down Rosemary said, “So, what is it?”

“Have you seen anything of Simon lately?” I asked.

“I saw him last weekend when I went to collect Delia from the stables—she practically
lives
there now—and he was there then.”

“He does spend a lot of time up there now.”

“Well, he is a part owner and they do need his help—not just at weekends either.”

“You haven’t found out,” I asked, “if he’s had any thoughts about working at the stables full-time?”

“Well, I did sort of broach the subject when I saw him, but he just said he didn’t think they could afford for him to take a salary out of the business, so he felt he had to soldier on with the accountancy.”

“Such a pity,” I said.

“Well, I suppose the money from his proper job does help, though he and Liz do seem to have some really good ideas about expanding the business. They seem to be getting on really well. I sometimes wonder. . . .”

“Oh, she’s obviously deeply devoted to him,” I said, and I told her what Vicky had said.

“It’s the right idea,” Rosemary agreed, “if for the wrong reason—
typical
Vicky—and it would be perfect for both of them. Just what Simon needs, a nice girl looking up to him and thinking he’s marvelous.”

I smiled. “She certainly does that all right. But there’s something else I’m really worried about.” I explained what Michael had said about the change of use of the land around the stables and what Derek had told me about Dan Webster. “If he wants to develop that land—and I’m sure he’s got his eye on it—he’ll keep on at Simon. He’s such a
strong
character and could be really threatening. I don’t know if Simon can stand up to him.”

“Simon cared so much for Jo and Charlie,” Rosemary said, “he couldn’t betray them like that.”

“Well, Thea said Simon was very upset when she saw him just after Dan Webster had been there, and Derek said Webster was the sort of man who always got what he wanted. I’m afraid he’s just going to
hound
poor Simon until he gives in.”

“Not,” Rosemary said firmly, “if we all stand by him and buoy him up. I’ll have a word with Jack. I know Simon respects his advice.”

“And I’ll get Michael to see if there’s anything in the will that might stop him selling,” I said.

“Cheer up,” Rosemary said. “I’m sure that all of us together will be a match for Dan Webster! Meanwhile,” she went on, “I’ll keep an eye on Liz and Simon and see if I can promote
that
little affair. A Christmas wedding would be nice.”

“There are times, Rosemary Dudley,” I said, “when you remind me irresistibly of your mother.”

Chapter Seventeen

I’d been having Sunday lunch with Michael and Thea and, while Thea and Alice were outside seeing to the chickens, I took the opportunity to have a word with Michael. I told him how worried I was about Dan Webster and asked him if there was anything in Jo’s will that might prevent Simon’s selling the land.

“No, it was left to him absolutely,” Michael said. “It would have been unusual for her to have done anything else.”

“It’s just that I think the Webster man had been trying to get Jo to sell and she might have wanted to make sure that Simon couldn’t.”

“But the change of use has only just been granted,” Michael said, “so there’d have been no point in his trying to buy the land then, before Jo died.”

“But, just suppose,” I said, “that Webster had got wind of the council’s decision, before it was made public; he’d have been one step ahead of anyone else.”

“Well, yes, but . . .”

“And Dan Webster was hand in glove with Gordon, who was on the planning committee, so it’s not impossible that he
did
know what was going to happen.”

“I’m sure that’s slanderous,” Michael said. “Promise me you won’t go around saying things like that!”

“No, really. If you think about it, Webster might have been acting with Gordon—a sort of front man because Gordon couldn’t be seen to be profiting from a council decision. And then Gordon died, so Webster was able to have the whole scheme to himself. That’s probably when he started to try to put the pressure on Jo. But
she
wasn’t having it.”

“So?”

“So, it was probably obvious that Jo would leave the stables and land to Simon, who Webster would think was an easy target.”

“So?”

“
So
, perhaps Webster killed her.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Ma,” Michael said, “I thought you’d given up the idea of it being murder, after the inquest and after everything the coroner said.”

“Mrs. Dudley doesn’t think Marcus Barrington is competent,” I said provocatively. “She said she wouldn’t trust his judgment on any legal matter.”

“Oh really . . .”

“She said he was no more use than a chocolate fireguard.”

“What!”

“I know. Apparently she’s taken to picking up the latest colloquialisms from Delia.”

“Good heavens.”

“But seriously, it isn’t
that
far-fetched. Webster’s well-known for getting what he wants at any cost. It would have been quite easy. There’s often no one in the office, especially when the rides are out, and he’s been around the stables quite a lot with all the business about that horse.”

“No, Ma,” Michael said firmly, “I refuse to consider any of that and I strongly advise you to forget all about it.”

I couldn’t argue anymore because Alice came rushing in with a basket.

“Gran, do look. I’ve been collecting the eggs and there are some here for you!”

“Gently, Alice,” Thea said, “or you’ll break them. Only three today—they’re starting to go off lay, but do have them. I’ll go and find an egg box for them.”

But as I took my eggs home I was still turning over in my mind the possibility that Dan Webster might have had something to do with Jo’s death, though, for the moment at least, I didn’t see any way of proving it.

 

I saw Roger a few days later at a concert at Brunswick Lodge. Anthea was mercifully having one of her feuds with Wendy Parker, who organizes them and was pointedly absent, so I didn’t have to spend my time avoiding her and could concentrate on talking to Roger in the interval.

“I suppose the police aren’t taking any more action about Jo’s death,” I said.

“Not after the inquest,” Roger said. “That made it pretty clear it was an accident.”

“And everybody’s happy that it was?” I asked tentatively.

Roger looked at me sternly. “Now Sheila, don’t try to make something out of nothing, just so you’ll have something to worry away at!”

“No, no,” I said hastily. “I suppose it’s just having two accidents in the same place, one so soon after another.”

“Just two tragic accidents,” Roger said. “And in a place like a stable, especially with temperamental horses around, there’s always a chance of something like that. As for poor Jo’s death, well, that was obviously an accident waiting to happen.”

“I suppose so. And Inspector Morris is quite satisfied?”

“Yes,” Roger said firmly, “quite satisfied. Now, do you want another glass of this rather thin red wine or shall we get back to our seats? I’m looking forward to the Schumann. You don’t very often have a chance to hear it.”

Faced with such a determined effort to close the subject, I hardly felt it was possible to introduce my suspicions of Dan Webster. All through the rest of the concert I was turning over in my mind how I could find
something
that might back up my suspicions. But I realized, in the light of our conversation, that it would have to be something really conclusive to persuade Roger (and Bob Morris) to take me seriously.

The maddening thing about supermarkets is the way that, just when you think you know where everything is, they immediately move things around. Our local branch had recently had a refit (presumably for their convenience since it obviously wasn’t for ours), and I was trying to discover where they’d put the olive oil, when someone behind me said wearily, “I don’t suppose you’ve come across the cheese biscuits anywhere?”

I turned round and found that it was Eileen Butler, an old friend.

“Hello,” I said. “How are you? It’s been ages since I saw you.”

“Oh, soldiering on. You know how it is. It’s been a busy time of the year and I’m only just getting back to normal.”

Eileen is married to a farmer, whose fields adjoin those belonging to the stables.

“Of course, you do farm holidays, don’t you?”

“Well, you have to do something these days, farming being how it is.”

“It must be hard work.”

“It’s not bad, but you have to be around all the time. I did want to get to poor Jo Hamilton’s funeral—that was a dreadful thing—but we had some people coming in that day, so I couldn’t get away.”

“Yes, it was a terrible shock, especially so soon after Charlie’s death.”

“They were good neighbors and good friends. We’ll miss them.”

“I’m sure you’ll get along with Jo’s nephew, Simon, who’s taken over the stables. Do you know him?”

“We’ve seen him around for years, off and on, and had the occasional chat. He seems a pleasant young man. As a matter of fact, Will’s been meaning to go over there and have a talk with him about something.”

“Really?”

She hesitated for a moment, and then she said, “How well do you know him? It’s a rather delicate matter and I know Will’s worried about how he might react.”

“Oh, Simon’s a thoroughly nice person,” I said. “I’m sure he’ll be helpful if there’s a problem.”

“Will’s had an offer for some of his fields. There’s been some sort of new planning thing that means the land can be built on.”

“Was the offer made by someone called Dan Webster?” I asked.

Eileen looked at me in surprise. “Yes, as a matter of fact it was. Do you know him?”

“Only by sight, but I’ve been hearing a lot about him lately.” I hesitated. “So, how does Will feel about selling?”

“Oh no, he wouldn’t hear of it. Said his mind was made up, even though this Webster man was very persistent and kept telephoning and coming round to the farm.”

“Good for Will.”

“Ours isn’t a very big farm, as you know, and we couldn’t afford to lose that many fields and still carry on. It’s not so much Will—though it’s always been his life and he does get a bit depressed at how things are going—but it’s for the boys. Well, for Johnny; Craig’s off to Bristol, working as a surveyor. But Johnny’s never wanted to do anything else, ever since he was a toddler, following Will around the farm and riding in the cab of the tractor. He’s wonderful with the animals. We still have a few beef cattle and some sheep; visitors like to see animals around the place when they’re staying. No, Will would never agree to selling any of the land, even though this man offered a very fancy price.”

“I can imagine.”

“And, anyway, we wouldn’t want a lot of houses or goodness knows what right next to us.”

“No, I can see that.”

“But we’re wondering what Simon’s going to do. I mean, Dan Webster’s sure to have made him an offer and, well, if he accepts, then where will the houses be built? I mean, it’ll be very awkward if they’re right up against our fields.”

“It would certainly affect your farm holidays,” I said, “as well as everything else.”

“That’s right.” She looked at me inquiringly. “So what do you think Simon’s likely to do?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t want to sell,” I said, “but, of course, I don’t know the circumstances. He’s only just taken over the stables, after all, so I suppose he’s still finding his feet there.”

Eileen nodded. “I can see that. Oh well, we’ll just have to see what he says to Will.”

“I do hope it all works out for you,” I said. “I’d hate to think of that man getting his hands on any of that land.”

“What have you heard about him?”

“Just that he’s a bully who likes to get his own way—a few things like that. I’m so glad Will is standing up to him.”

 

I told Rosemary about my talk with Eileen.

“Well, good for them,” she said. “Jack hasn’t had a chance to speak to Simon yet, but I really can’t believe he would ever sell those fields. I mean, from a practical point of view, apart from anything else, they need them for the horses. Grazing’s expensive, and if they mean to expand . . .”

“Exactly. I’m sure it’ll be all right. Besides,” I added as a sudden thought struck me, “Simon must have inherited something from Gordon. There was a lot of money there and surely he won’t have left everything to Esther.”

“I think,” Rosemary said, “he set up trusts for Vicky and for Simon, tying up the money somehow.”

“Typical!” I said. “Making things difficult. For goodness’ sake, they’re not children, not even particularly young now. Just when Simon could use that money for the stables.”

“I suppose,” Rosemary said thoughtfully, “Gordon did it so that Simon couldn’t give up accountancy.”

“Imposing his wishes from beyond the grave! Can’t Simon break the trust somehow?”

“I don’t know. It probably hasn’t occurred to him to try. You know how oppressed he was by his father.”