Murder in the Dark - A Libby Sarjeant Murder Mystery (Libby Sarjeant Murder Mystery Series) (5 page)

Chapter Eight

‘You what?’ Libby looked across at Fran and mouthed “Ian”.

‘We’re sure that there was something between Mr Watson and the victim, but neither Mr Oxenford, Mrs Watson or Mr Watson himself will tell us.’

‘Why do you think there was? Did someone tell you?’ Libby perched on the arm of the sofa, eyebrows waggling furiously at Fran.

‘Under questioning they’ve all avoided certain themes, although I can’t think why. But when Mrs Oxenford’s things were searched there was a distinct discrepancy between what we had been told about her personality and the clothes she owned. And Mr Watson inadvertently said something that made us think he knew that side of her personality.’

‘What did he say?’

‘I can’t tell you that, Libby. But I want you to see if you can get anything out of Mrs Watson that she might not be willing to tell the police.’

‘Spy on her?’ Libby bit her lip.

‘Helping the police,’ corrected Ian.

‘I’ll see what I can do. Oh, and Ian, have you got a time and place of death, yet?’

‘Well, yes,’ said Ian, sounding surprised. ‘She was killed where she was found, but the time of death’s quite a lot later than we thought. Why?’

‘Will you have a quick word with Fran, then?’ Libby handed over the phone and listened to Fran explaining her dream to Ian. She handed the phone back.

‘Interesting,’ he said. ‘I’ll talk to the pathologist. It could be very helpful. So will you see what you can get out of Mrs Watson?’

‘I’ve said, I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be in touch.’

‘What did he want?’ asked Fran. Libby told her.

‘Well, we can legitimately look into it, now,’ said Fran, ‘but I don’t see how we can split on Adelaide when she told us all that in confidence.’

‘That’s what I thought. Oh, bum. I meant to ask about the new suspect. How can we find out about him?’

Fran thought for a moment. ‘Adelaide said she saw Ramani and Roland at Ashford International. That looks as though sometimes Roland wasn’t going to Brussels when he said he was. It also means they meant to be together for a while.’

‘But not long, or Carl would miss Ramani.’

‘Right. So, a hotel near Ashford International?’

‘There are hundreds – thousands.’

‘Not thousands, Lib, although more than there used to be. Now, what’s more likely, a town or country hotel?’

‘Town – more impersonal. One of the chains. But how’s that going to help us find the other suspect?’

‘It isn’t. I’m just trying to think of a way to point Ian in the right direction without betraying Adelaide.’

‘And that would be how?’

‘If we could identify them together at a hotel.’

‘Fran! Have you run mad? What do you propose we do? Trail round every hotel in the vicinity of Ashford and ask if they’ve seen a white British male in his fifties with an Asian woman in her thirties? Don’t be daft.’

Fran sighed. ‘No, you’re right. We’ll just have to persuade Adelaide to tell Ian what she suspects.’

‘I wish we could talk to Carl,’ said Libby. ‘How could we do that?’

‘We can’t,’ said Fran.

‘No.’ Libby sighed. ‘Oh, well. I’ll give Adelaide time to get home, then ring her.’

‘It would be better to speak to her face to face.’

‘Oh, I can’t face another drive over there.’

‘Come on, I’ll drive. And we’ll go straight up Dark Lane this time, no faffing around Keeper’s Cob.’

There was no fog around that day, although it was still cold under a threatening sky. Fran drove off the Canterbury Road and down towards The Dragon, where she turned right into Dark Lane.

‘Fran, look! Stop!’ Libby pointed to the ginnel which ran behind The Dragon. To where, on the steps of a white-painted house, hand raised to knock on a blue painted door, stood Adelaide.

‘The doctor’s house?’ murmured Fran, but Libby was already out of the car running towards Adelaide.

‘I’m so glad we caught you,’ panted Libby, as Adelaide turned, startled, just as the blue door opened and a slight, dark-haired man stood there, looking equally startled.

‘Carl – I’m s–sorry,’ stuttered Adelaide.

Libby, trying to breathe calmly, stepped forward and held out her hand. ‘Doctor Oxenford? I’m so sorry for your loss. My friend and I were just trying to catch up with Adelaide. It’s fairly urgent.’

‘This is Libby Sarjeant,’ mumbled Adelaide. ‘I suppose I’d better see what she wants.’

‘Right.’ Carl Oxenford nodded a bewildered understanding. ‘Did you want to come in?’

‘No,’ said Adelaide hastily. ‘I mean, I’ll just see what Libby wants and then I’ll come back.’

‘Oh, right. Yes.’ Carl nodded again, and leaving the door open retreated into the house.

Libby led the other woman down the steps.

‘What do you mean by assaulting me like that?’ hissed Adelaide.

‘Assaulting you? What on earth do you mean?’ Libby was indignant. ‘We’re trying to help you, that’s all.’

‘Help? How?’

‘Look,’ said Libby, anger suddenly coming to the surface. ‘Twice now you’ve asked for my help – from me, a total stranger. And, when I’m continuing to do that, you accuse me of assaulting you? Honestly. You’re not worth it.’ And she turned away. Almost immediately, to her relief, she felt a hand on her arm.

‘Libby, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.’

‘No, you weren’t. And unless you want us to go straight to the police with what you told us this morning, you’d better listen.’

Fran had got out of the car and come over to them.

‘What are you so scared of, Adelaide?’ she said now. ‘Apart from your husband, that is.’

‘My – ’ The words stuck in Adelaide’s throat and she shook her head.

‘Well listen,’ Libby went on. ‘Just after you left, I had a call from Chief Detective Inspector Connell. He’s sure there was something between Roland and Ramani, but no one will tell him anything, not you, Roland or Carl. Now we know that you have evidence, and when he asked Fran and I if you had told us anything,’ not quite true, but nearly, ‘we had to decide whether or not to tell him. We decided not to, but to try and persuade you to go to him voluntarily.’

Adelaide looked hunted. ‘I can’t.’

‘Then we will have to tell him,’ said Fran. ‘We could be charged with withholding information if we don’t.’

‘Look, we know that you think Roland will know if you tell the police, but all you’ll be doing is confirming what they already suspect.’ Libby put her head on one side. ‘If that makes sense.’

‘I –’ began Adelaide and stopped. Looking over towards the blue door, she said ‘Will you come in and explain that to Carl? It affects him, too.’

Libby raised her eyebrows. ‘So you know him better than you admitted, too?’

Adelaide’s blotchy colour rose once more. ‘No – well, yes. Will you come in?’

‘I’ll just lock the car,’ said Fran.

Libby waited for Fran, then they followed Adelaide down a short corridor and into what appeared to be a library at the back of the house overlooking a high-walled garden. Carl Oxenford stood in the middle of the room, and from a winged armchair beside him rose a tall, distinguished black man.

‘Um, Libby thinks I ought to tell the police,’ said Adelaide.

Carl Oxenford looked slightly perplexed, as well he might, thought Libby, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

‘About what?’ he asked eventually.

Libby flicked a glance at the other man, wondering why he was to be privileged to hear this conversation.

‘The police suspect there was a relationship between your late wife and Mr Watson,’ she said baldly. ‘I know you both suspected there was, all I’m asking is that Mrs Watson tells the police of any confirmation either she or you might have.’

Carl Oxenford sighed and gestured to chairs set round a low table.

‘I tried to avoid saying anything,’ he said. ‘It will serve no purpose. Roland was in Brussels when my wife was killed.’

‘Anything you can tell them will help, even if it’s only for elimination purposes,’ said Fran.

Carl turned to the other man. ‘Edward, tell them why you don’t want to antagonise Roland.’

All eyes turned to the black man, now leaning forward eagerly with the elbows on his knees.

‘My name is Edward Hall,’ he began. ‘I’ve known Ramani since university. I’m a historian, particularly interested in the English civil wars.’

‘Wars?’ said Libby. ‘I thought there was only one?’

‘It was more or less in three phases,’ continued Edward, ‘and in what is now called the second, there was an uprising in Kent, not just of Royalists, although they joined in of course. It culminated in the Battle of Maidstone on June 1st 1648.’

‘Just after our house was extended,’ said Adelaide.

‘In 1643.’ Edward nodded.

‘I’ve never heard of the Battle of Maidstone,’ said Libby. ‘Have you, Fran?’

Fran shook her head.

‘Unless you’re a student of the period you probably wouldn’t have. It’s hardly as famous as Naseby or Edgehill.’ Edward smiled at them both. ‘Sorry, I’m not being very clear. You see, Ramani got in touch with me and told me that Mr Watson knew of a secret treasure at his house, which had been extended in 1643.’ He looked from one to another of them waiting for a reaction.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Fran. ‘I’m afraid I don’t see …’

‘War between the King and Parliament was officially enjoined in 1642. Country squires, who would have mainly supported the King, knew there could be trouble.’

‘Oh, I see! So whoever owned Dark House at that time extended the house and built what – a secret room?’

‘I believe that’s what Mr Watson thought.’ Edward looked at Adelaide. ‘Has he never told you, Mrs Watson?’

‘No.’ Adelaide looked down at her lap.

‘Wait a bit,’ said Libby. ‘This is all very well, but what’s it got to do with telling the police about Roland and Ramani?’

‘Then Mr Watson would never let me investigate his house,’ said Edward simply.

Libby and Fran looked at each other, taken aback.

‘That’s rather selfish, if you ask me,’ said Fran.

‘Look.’ Adelaide gave a tired sigh. ‘ It was because of this that Carl found out about Roland and Ramani. She was excited about it, and told Carl she’d told Edward.’

‘And I wondered how she knew.’ Carl suddenly leant forward and put his head in his hands. ‘God, I can’t stand all this.’

‘You have no idea why your wife should have been killed, Dr Oxenford?’ said Fran suddenly. ‘Why she had taken the car?’

He looked up. ‘Burglary gone wrong, the police think. They found the car, you know.’

‘They did?’ said Libby. ‘Where?’

‘Somewhere in the woods. Theyʼve taken it in for – well, forensics, I suppose. She must have surprised a burglar.’

‘During the night?’ Libby frowned. ‘She died during the night, didnʼt she?’

‘I – I donʼt know.’ Carl looked bewildered.

‘But she wasnʼt in her nightclothes – she was dressed,’ said Fran, cottoning on.

Carl shook his head. Adelaide and Edward Hall just looked confused.

Libby and Fran both stood up.

‘We shouldn’t be here,’ said Fran. ‘We’ll leave you to it, but Adelaide, don’t forget – tell DCI Connell. If you don’t, we’ll have to.’

They left silence in the room, but just as they were crossing to the car, Adelaide appeared on the steps.

‘Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I couldn’t think what it all had to do with Ramani’s murder.’

‘And didn’t it occur to you that you could authorise Edward’s search just as well as Roland?’

This time the colour fairly flooded Adelaide’s cheeks.

‘I couldn’t. Roland wouldn’t have him in the house.’

‘Are you saying – racist?’ began Libby.

Adelaide bit her lip.

‘But he was having an affair with Ramani,’ said Fran.

‘I know.’ Adelaide now looked thoroughly miserable. ‘It doesn’t make sense, does it?’

‘You say Roland never told you any of this?’ said Fran.

‘How would he have got round looking through the house without you knowing about it?’ said Libby.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well,
I
know,’ said Libby briskly. ‘We can do it. And Lewis will help. He’s good on old buildings.’

‘Not with Roland there,’ said Adelaide, the hunted look coming back.

‘Why ever not?’

‘He wouldn’t allow it.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! He’d told Ramani, and she’d told Edward – and Carl, for that matter, so he must have intended to go through with a search.’

‘What did he mean to do with me, though?’ muttered Adelaide.

‘He would have just told you when it was happening and probably told you not to interfere, wouldn’t he?’ said Fran.

Adelaide nodded.

‘Right. Now, are you going to call DCI Connell, or shall we do it?’

‘Will you do it? Just tell them everything.’ Adelaide turned to go through the door and then said, ‘Why do you think he told Ramani and not me?’

‘That was exactly what I was wondering,’ said Libby, as Fran found a place to turn the car and they left Dark Lane.

‘He told her to impress her, I expect,’ said Fran. ‘If she knew Edward Hall at university, it seems likely that she was a history student, too.’

Chapter Nine

‘Time to recap,’ said Libby, back at number 17. ‘We now have Ramani Oxenford telling her old mate Edward Hall – who’s quite a dish, don’t you think? – about Dark House’s history, which she got from Roland Watson, with whom she’s having an affair.’

‘And both Adelaide and Carl suspected it.’ Fran sighed. ‘Ian’s not going to be pleased, is he?’

‘He will be with us,’ said Libby smugly. ‘But he won’t be very pleased with Adelaide or Carl. And I wonder why the police pulled Edward in?’

‘No idea. Go on, you’re supposed to be calling Ian.’

When Libby had finished telling him what she and Fran had discovered, Ian sighed.

‘I don’t know how you managed that, and I don’t think I want to. What did you think of Edward Hall?’

‘Apart from the fact that he’s a bit of all right, you mean?’

‘Libby!’

‘Oh, OK. Well, he seemed quite nice, but a bit selfish. Very focussed on his subject.’

‘It didn’t seem odd to you?’

‘Odd?’ repeated Libby, frowning across at Fran. ‘He’s a historian with a special interest in the civil wars. Did you know there were three? I thought there was –’

‘Yes, yes, Libby, I meant that he should come looking for Ramani just because of what she’d told him?’

‘I think he probably would. He’d have been trying to get hold of her on her mobile, dying to get inside the house. They’re obsessive, you know, these historical and archaeological types.’

‘And you would know – how?’ asked Ian.

‘All right, all right. So, anything else we can do for you?’

Ian laughed. ‘I’ll let you know if there is. And if the Watsons do start a search in the house, I want you to go with them.’

‘Oh, we’d already decided that,’ said Libby. ‘We’re going to ask Lewis to come with us.’

‘Oh, God,’ groaned Ian. ‘The whole Sarjeant chorus.’

‘With bells on,’ said Libby.

When Ben and Libby returned from rehearsal that evening, there was a message on the landline.

‘Who was it?’ asked Ben, coming in from the kitchen with two glasses.

‘Adelaide, sounding very peeved that I wasn’t here, and demanding that I ring her as soon as I came in.’

Ben laughed. ‘And will you?’

‘No, I bloody won’t,’ said Libby, plonking herself down on the sofa. ‘Even though I am dying of curiosity.’

‘Here,’ said Ben handing her one of the glasses. ‘So when will you ring her?’

‘In the morning.’ Libby curled her feet up under her. ‘Isn’t it funny? We’ve got Ian
and
one of the suspects both asking for our help.’

‘Ian’s asking you to spy for him.’

‘I know he is, but let’s face it, I don’t owe the Watsons anything, and it’s very interesting.’

‘Born nosy, that’s you,’ said Ben.

Libby deliberately waited until late morning before ringing Adelaide Watson, ignoring the landline when it rang twice.

‘Where have you been?’ Adelaide’s voice rose in a petulant shriek.

‘I beg your pardon?’ said Libby coldly.

‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you since last night.’

‘I know. I’ve been busy.’

‘How? What have you been doing?’

‘Is it any business of yours?’ said Libby, ice seeping in to the airwaves. There was a short silence.

‘I’m sorry. I’ve just been so – so –’

‘Wound up?’ suggested Libby. ‘Yes, I can hear that. So what was so urgent?’

‘It’s Edward. Well, Edward and Roland. You see, Edward came round last night.’

‘To Dark House?’

‘Yes. And Roland tried to throw him out.’

‘Ah. What did you think I could do?’

‘I don’t know!’ wailed Adelaide. ‘I didn’t know who to turn to.’

‘What happened in the end?’

‘Edward left. But that inspector had been here talking to Roland in private and when they went he was furious.’

‘He thought you’d told about the affair?’

‘Well, of course he did, and I’d told you, so I couldn’t deny it. I tried to tell him Carl knew, too, but he pooh-poohed the idea. Said I’d been spying on him.’

‘What did you say?’ asked Libby.

‘I – I – nothing.’ Something in Adelaide’s tone told Libby this wasn’t all there was to it.

‘Adelaide, did he hit you?’

Silence.

‘Right, that means he did. You really should leave, you know. You said you were going to.’

‘I know,’ said Adelaide in a small voice, ‘but where could I go?’

Libby hardened her heart. ‘What about one of your sons?’

‘Oh, I couldn’t! Besides, they wouldn’t have room for me.’

Libby suppressed the thought of how her own children would react in this situation. Adelaide wasn’t Libby, and her sons were not like Adam, Belinda and Dominic.

‘Anyway,’ said Adelaide, her voice sounding stronger, ‘Carl and Edward said if I leave the house, he could try and maintain that I abandoned him and decide I couldn’t have half the value.’

‘I don’t think he could do that,’ said Libby, ‘but he might try and prevent you going back to it. When did you speak to Carl and Edward about it?’

‘After you left Carl’s yesterday afternoon. And Edward called me this morning.’

‘Where’s Roland now?’

Adelaide sighed. ‘He had to go back to the station to give an amended statement. I think they’re trying to break his alibi.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ said Libby.

‘You didn’t like him,’ stated Adelaide.

‘No,’ said Libby. ‘Do you?’

There was a pause. Then ‘No,’ said Adelaide in a surprised voice. ‘I don’t. I thought I loved him still, but even that’s not true any more.’

‘I should start making plans,’ said Libby. ‘You have every reason to leave him. Have you got a solicitor?’

‘Only the one who did the conveyancing on this house. I could ask her.’

‘More to the point, what about this treasure Roland said he knew about? Has he said any more?’

‘No. That was what Edward wanted to ask, but Roland said he wasn’t going to let a – well – a black man in to the house.’

‘You could,’ said Libby slowly, ‘tell him to leave. You’d be entitled to, I should think. Is the house in joint names?’

‘Oh, yes. The solicitor made sure we knew all about tenants in common and joint tenants. She got quite firm with Roland.’

‘I bet.’ Libby grinned. ‘She sounds like the one for you, then. See what the legal position is. It might be that he will refuse to leave his own house, and of course, who could blame him, but you could always insist that you ask whoever you like into it.’

Adelaide sighed. ‘I’ll try, but I’ve never been good at standing up to him.’

‘Meanwhile, do you think Edward would talk to me? I’m really interested in his research, and if we’re going to help look for this treasure, or whatever it is – if Roland lets us, of course – I need to know more about it.’

‘I’m sure he would. May I give him your phone number?’

‘Good idea. And listen Adelaide, ring me if you need to, just be aware I can’t always come immediately.’

‘I know.’ Adelaide sounded defeated. ‘You have a life.’

‘So do you, so chin up. I’ll speak to you soon, and keep me up to date.’

Libby relayed this conversation to Fran immediately she stopped speaking to Adelaide.

‘If Edward agrees to meet you, I want to be there, too,’ said Fran. ‘I’ve got a feeling I might be of use in this search, if there is one.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of meeting him, just a phone call.’

‘No, we must meet him. We need to know if he’s a suspect as well as everything else.’

‘We–ell,’ said Libby, ‘I might slobber all over him, but you know best. And he is a suspect, we know that.’

‘I mean a suspect to us, not the police. And you will
not
slobber.’

Libby decided she’d better do a supermarket run to stock up on things not for sale in the village. As the nearest supermarket was either the small one in Nethergate or a choice of larger ones in Canterbury, this was not something done regularly and usually ended up in confusion, Libby being unable to resist a bargain.

Coming home laden with bulk buy toilet rolls and several packets of cereal on the buy one get one free basis, Libby saw the red light flashing on the answerphone.

‘Give us a chance,’ she grumbled, as Sidney streaked through her legs and out the front door.

Finally unloaded, and having found places for most of her purchases, Libby made herself a cup of tea and listened to the message.

‘It’s Edward Hall, here, Mrs Sarjeant. I’d like to talk to you – and your friend. Mrs Wolfe, is it? Would you ring me back?’

Libby punched in the number he gave.

‘We’d like to talk to you, too, Mr Hall,’ she said, after pleasantries had been exchanged. ‘When would suit you?’

‘I’m staying in the area, so anytime. This afternoon? Tomorrow?’

‘Not tomorrow, Mrs Wolfe is busy on Saturdays. I could probably get her to come here this afternoon.’

‘Could you? I’m in Canterbury, so how long would it take me to get to you?’

‘Half an hour or less. I’ll call you back when I’ve spoken to Fran.’

Five minutes later the meeting was set up and Libby did a quick tidy of the sitting room, Sidney sitting on the table in the window with his ears back in disapproval. Fran arrived minutes before Edward Hall and made Libby go into the kitchen and stop flapping while she remained as the welcoming committee.

‘What was it you wanted to talk to me about?’ Edward Hall sat in the armchair on one side of the fire, while Libby and Fran sat side by side on the sofa.

‘The whole situation, really,’ said Fran. ‘Ramani, and how much she told you of what she knew about Dark House. Whether she had any enemies.’

‘She had a trail of ex-lovers, if that’s what you mean.’ Edward Hall looked amused.

‘Ah,’ said Libby. ‘So did she tell you about the affair with Roland Watson?’

‘No, I knew nothing about that. She just said it was a house belonging to a friend.’

‘Mr Hall, why do you think it’s important?’ asked Fran.

‘Please call me Edward.’ He smiled at them both. ‘Then I won’t feel as though I’m in the headmaster’s office.’

‘Then I’m Libby, and this is Fran.’ Libby stood up. ‘Would you like tea? Or coffee?’

When all three were supplied with tea, Libby began again.

‘So Ramani rang you and told you – what exactly?’

‘She said a friend of hers and her husband’s had an old house which dated back to the mid seventeenth century, and that in an old document held at the local church there was reference to a treasure hidden in the house.’

‘And you got excited about it,’ said Fran with a smile.

‘Well, the dates fitted. I told you about the Battle of Maidstone, didn’t I? You see, it was quite a ragbag of people who tried to stand against Parliament and the trained army under General Fairfax. Country squires, some of the landed gentry and some of the labourers and farm workers. Completely unfitted for warfare, and it wasn’t like previous battles, it was man against man, up and down the streets of Maidstone. It’s thought that many of the men left hidden gold to look after their families if they didn’t return.’ He looked solemn. ‘And of course, many of them didn’t.’

‘How do you know it was Dark House?’ asked Libby.

‘She told me,’ said Edward, looking surprised. ‘Dark House, Dark Lane. I asked her exactly where it was, you see, to see if it could be linked to my research. I checked it out on the British Listed Buildings website, and as it happens, it’s not far off the route that General Rich took to recapture the castle at Dover – ’

‘Hang on,’ said Libby. ‘General Rich? Don’t forget neither Fran nor I are history scholars.’

‘Sorry.’ Edward looked sheepish. ‘I tend to get carried away.’ He sipped gingerly at his tea. ‘Oh, that’s good. I usually get dusty teabag stuff.’

Libby grinned. ‘You go to the wrong places. Well, go on. Who was General Rich?’

‘He was a Parliamentarian under General Fairfax, but I’m not really interested in him. You see, there is very little known about the people involved in the battle, and I’m trying to put some flesh on their bones. Archaeology hasn’t helped much so far, and we don’t know where to look except for the few obvious places. We have some names: Sir William Brockman, Sir John Mayney and Sir Gamaliel Dudley, but that’s about all.’

‘And you think Dark House could have been owned by one of the rebels?’ said Fran.

‘That’s what Ramani thought.’

‘I wonder which church holds the document?’ mused Libby.

‘Is there one at Steeple Cross?’ asked Edward.

‘I’ve not seen one, but that doesn’t mean to say there isn’t,’ said Libby, and went to fetch her laptop. ‘Here, look.’ She turned the screen towards Edward. ‘St Mary’s.’

‘Where exactly?’ asked Fran.

‘Well!’ Libby looked triumphant. ‘About five minutes from Carl Oxenford’s house. No wonder Ramani found out about it!