The Other Child (17 page)

‘Well done.' Valerie praised him. She wrapped both her arms around her freezing body. The wind blew ever colder; it swept across the moor and whistled down into the gorge.

Right after being found, the corpse already had a name. That was quicker and easier than usual. It often took weeks to find out the dead person's identity. But Valerie was wary of a premature optimism. Amy Mills had been identified quickly too, but that had not helped one jot.

‘I'd like to see the woman's granddaughter right away,' she said.

The young officer beamed as he realised he would get to drive his boss. Sergeant Reek was tramping around somewhere out there in the dark looking for an injured sheep.

Sometimes you just got lucky.

Monday, 13th October

1

‘Are you awake?' whispered Jennifer. She poked her head through the door of Gwen's room. ‘I saw the light was on.'

Gwen was not in her bed. She had not even got undressed. She was sitting in a chair at the window, staring into the pitch-black night that still hung over the land. It was half past four in the morning. As yet, nothing announced the day which was about to begin.

Cal and Wotan squeezed past Jennifer, bounded over to Gwen and licked her hands. Lost in her thoughts, Gwen ruffled their big heads.

‘Come in,' she said. ‘I haven't slept a wink.'

‘Me neither,' replied Jennifer, coming into the bedroom and closing the door quietly and firmly behind her.

They were all in shock. Everyone on the farm was since Leslie's call late last night. After a police officer had visited her.

Chad had disappeared into his room without a word, bolting the door behind him.

Colin had paced back and forth between living room and kitchen.

‘Impossible,' he said again and again. ‘It can't be!'

Gwen and Jennifer had sat motionless on the sofa, stunned and speechless.

Fiona was dead. Brutally murdered. At the edge of a meadow, not all that far from the Beckett farm, but far from the path Fiona had wanted to take on Saturday night. No one knew how she had got there.

Long past midnight everyone had gone to bed, although obviously no one had managed to sleep.

‘I wanted to talk to you about something,' said Jennifer. She seemed tense, but that didn't surprise Gwen, whose nerves were highly strung. Her eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, but she was wide awake. She was sweating and shivering simultaneously. It was like the flu, only much, much worse.

‘Yes?'

Jennifer sat down on the bed. ‘I've been thinking,' she started cautiously. ‘It might seem strange to you that I've been worrying about this, now of all times, but … I know you feel terrible and …'

Gwen felt like she had a mouth full of cotton wool. It was hard to speak. ‘I can't believe it,' she said with some effort. ‘It's just … like a bad dream. Fiona was always … unbreakable. Strong. She was …' Gwen looked to find the right words to describe what Fiona had been to her, but she did not find them. Finally she said, ‘She was always there. She was always there and it felt like she'd always be there. That gave me so much … security.'

‘I know,' said Jennifer gently. She stroked Gwen's arm briefly. ‘I know what she meant to you. I know too that you want to be left in peace, but we have to talk about something. It's important.'

‘It is?' asked Gwen indifferently.

‘Today the police will come and question us all about Saturday night,' said Jennifer. ‘They'll want to know about every little thing. And we should think about what we'll tell them.'

In spite of her lethargy, Gwen was annoyed. ‘Why? We can just tell them what happened.'

Jennifer spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. ‘The problem is the fight between Fiona and Dave. It was a big one.'

‘Yes, but …'

‘The police will latch onto it. Look: Fiona attacks Dave so viciously that he leaves the house angrily, even though the evening meal is his engagement party. A few hours later she's dead. Murdered. They'll put two and two together.'

Gwen sat up straight. ‘You mean …'

‘They are bound to suspect Dave first of all. How do we know whether he drove straight home? He could have hung around outside. He could have intercepted Fiona as she walked towards Whitestone Farm.'

‘But that's ridiculous! Jennifer – I know Dave! He'd never do such a thing. Never!'

‘I'm just saying what the police will think,' stressed Jennifer. ‘Dave had a motive, you see? He could have killed her in the heat of the moment, out of anger. He might have been scared that Fiona would ruin all your plans by constantly sowing doubts in your mind. She was in the way of all that he hoped for. He certainly would have had his reasons for wanting to silence her for ever!'

‘The way you're talking – it's as if you've already decided he's the perpetrator.'

‘Rubbish. But the two of you must be prepared for the fact that the police will confront you with these suspicions.'

‘The two of us?'

‘They could suspect you too,' said Jennifer slowly.

Gwen stared at her in astonishment. ‘Me?'

‘Well, you were of course angry with Fiona too. And you were afraid she could destroy your dreams for the future. You still don't know whether Dave might not be so angry that he never turns up again!'

‘But, Jennifer, that's no reason for me to go and … that's completely crazy!'

‘What did you do after Dave left?' asked Jennifer.

Gwen looked at her numbly. Her friend's train of thought paralysed her. ‘You know. We both sat here in my room. I was crying. You were here for me.'

‘But then, later, I went for a walk with the dogs. You didn't want to come with me.'

‘No, but …'

‘Listen, Gwen, it's just a suggestion. You don't have to accept it, but … Why don't we just say you went with me? We took the dogs for a walk together. Then you'd have an alibi for the crucial time and wouldn't have to defend yourself against any insinuations.'

‘I don't need an alibi!' said Gwen, horrified.

‘No, but it won't do any harm to have one.' Jennifer got up, turning towards the door. ‘You can think about it. I'm going out with Cal and Wotan. When I get back, you tell me what you've decided. If you want to do it, then we should just agree on our story, so you know exactly where we were walking at the time in question.'

She opened the door and stepped out into the hall. ‘All right?'

Gwen did not look all right. ‘Yes,' she said nevertheless. ‘I understand. I'll think about it, Jennifer.'

She stared at the door closing behind her friend and suddenly thought: and Jennifer would not have to worry any more, either.

2

‘Do you know this woman?' asked DI Valerie Almond, holding a photo up in front of Dave Tanner's face. Not yet completely awake, he nodded.

‘Yes.'

‘Who is she?'

‘Fiona Barnes. I only know her a little.'

‘And do you know this woman?' Another photo.

‘I don't know her personally, just from the papers. It's Amy Mills, the girl who was murdered here in July.'

‘Fiona Barnes was found murdered yesterday in Staintondale,' said Valerie.

Thunderstruck, he felt all the colour drain from his face. ‘What?'

‘She was killed with a rock. In some ways the murder is similar to that of Amy Mills.'

He had sat down on a chair. Now he stood up. He ran a hand down his face. ‘Good lord,' he said.

To Valerie, he seemed thoroughly shaken.

But in the course of her career she had seen and experienced too much to take anything at face value. Dave Tanner might really be completely shocked and surprised, but it could just as easily be a show he was putting on. Valerie would reserve judgement.

She had turned up at Dave's landlady's property with a rather sleep-deprived Sergeant Reek who had spent half the night looking for the sheep, but found it in the end and dragged it back out of the gorge. She asked to speak to Mr Tanner. The name Tanner had electrified her the previous evening when she had given Leslie Cramer the sad news of her grandmother's death and carried out a cautious first conversation with her. Like Amy Mills's employer Mrs Gardner, Tanner gave language classes at the Friarage School, and now here he was being mentioned in connection with a murder for a second time.

It could be the connection they needed. In any case, at the moment it was the only connection between the two immensely different women.

Dave Tanner had still been in bed when the landlady knocked on his door and told him the police were there. She had snorted with excitement. Tanner had been surprised, but was prepared to talk then and there. He had pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper and shown the officers into his room. He offered them coffee, which they declined. Valerie had taken a good look at him. His puffy eyes told her that he drank too much, but that did not make him any more or less of a suspect. Valerie was annoyed that she had not investigated him right after talking to Mrs Gardner. She had tracked down Mrs Gardner's ex-husband first. He had turned out to be a harmless fellow and, moreover, he could prove where he had been at the time of Amy Mills's murder: on holiday in Tenerife. The hotel he named confirmed his visit.

‘We've spoken to Dr Leslie Cramer, Fiona Barnes's granddaughter,' said Valerie. ‘According to her statement, you had a very heated argument with Mrs Barnes last Saturday evening.'

‘It wasn't an argument. Mrs Barnes attacked me – you no doubt already know what she said. In the end, I'd had enough and I left. That was all.'

‘Dr Cramer said that by your own account you drove straight back here and went to bed.'

‘That's right.'

‘Witnesses?'

‘No.'

‘Your landlady?'

‘She was watching TV. She didn't hear me come back.'

‘How do you know?'

‘Because
when
she does, she always jumps out and intercepts me.'

‘Where were you on 16th July of this year? In the evening?'

‘I … had a date.'

‘You know that just like that? I wouldn't spontaneously know what I had done three months ago.'

He looked at her with hostility.

He's starting to realise that his situation is rather precarious, thought Valerie.

‘I met my fiancée for the first time on 16th July. That's why I mentioned a
date
, and why the date is fixed in my head.'

Valerie looked in her files. ‘Your fiancée – Miss Gwendolyn Beckett, is that right?'

‘Absolutely.'

‘Where did you meet her?'

‘In Friarage School. I don't teach on that day, but I had gone over to collect some files that I had left there. Gwen Beckett was attending a course there. It was tipping it down when she was about to leave, so I offered to drive her home, and did.'

‘All right. What time was that?'

‘We drove off around six. I was at home by half eight.'

‘That's early.'

‘We got to her farm at around half six. But we sat in the car talking for over an hour. She told me about her life, I told her about mine. Then I drove back.'

‘You were here at home then? On your own?'

‘Yes.'

‘Can your landlady confirm that?'

He ran a hand through his hair helplessly. ‘No idea. I mean, unless the 16th July was a special day for her too, I doubt she'll remember whether I was at home that evening or not. But perhaps you can explain what this is—'

‘Did you meet Mrs Fiona Barnes for the first time last Saturday?' Valerie changed the topic abruptly. ‘Or did you know her already?'

‘I knew her. I had met her a couple of times on the farm, when I was picking up Gwen. She invited Gwen and me to her place once. She's a friend of Gwen's father.'

‘Was there ever any conflict between you on those occasions?'

‘No.'

‘She never let show that she mistrusted you?'

‘She showed that she didn't like me. She was cool and distant and always looked at me quite aggressively. But I really didn't care.'

‘And the evening before last it started to bother you?'

‘She laid into me without holding back at all. Yes, it bothered me, that's why I went. But I didn't kill her. God! I wasn't that bothered by the old lady and what she thought!'

Valerie let her gaze drift around the room. Like every other visitor to Dave Tanner's room, she was surprised by the mess, the tattiness and unmistakable signs of poverty. Dave Tanner's language, his bearing and behaviour all pointed to a good upbringing and education, and to a family background that must have been upper middle class. Tanner did not belong in this house, in this room. Almost inevitably Valerie came to the same suspicion that Fiona Barnes and Leslie Cramer had not been able to ignore. The farm that Gwen Beckett would soon inherit – wouldn't it be a life-saver for Dave Tanner? How scared was he that Fiona Barnes's venomous comments, which perhaps hit the nail squarely on the head, would dissuade Gwen from marrying him as planned? Might he have thought his future livelihood depended on silencing the old woman by any means necessary?

Valerie changed tack once more.

‘You knew that your colleague Mrs Gardner employed a young woman to look after her daughter when she taught?'

‘Yes. She had mentioned it.' Tanner spoke carefully now, although you could sense that he was struggling to keep calm. Valerie could tell that he had seen through her attempt to confuse him with the abrupt jumps from topic to topic. ‘But I didn't know her name. I didn't know the girl herself.'

‘You knew where Mrs Gardner lived?'

‘No, we had very little to do with one another.'

‘But you could have found out her address via the school office at any time, of course.'