Guilt in the Cotswolds (19 page)

And now Drew was returning to his own territory, where people needed him. He had a circle of family and associates that was willing to accommodate Thea, largely on its own terms. She had no such circle of her own. There was nobody needing her; nobody wanted
to know what time she could be with them. Without Drew she was adrift, a train without a track. And yet, she was compelled by what Millie had just told her and the questions that gave rise to.

‘Brendan knows everybody,’ said Millie carelessly.

‘But hasn’t he only just come here?’ Thea tried to remember everything the man had told her. ‘I thought he lived abroad until recently.’

‘Who told you that? His
father
was abroad, not him. He stayed here with his mother. He’s hardly ever been out of the country, as far as I know.’

‘He told me he’d lived in the Middle East for years.’

‘He probably thought it would impress you. He’s not very truthful.’ Millie sounded as if this was no great defect in a person.

Thea swallowed it with some difficulty, before asking, ‘What does he do for a living?’

‘Buys and sells stuff. Auctions, boot sales – all that. He knows what things are worth.’

Thea nodded. ‘So why was he at the police station?’

‘I don’t know.’ Millie’s voice was shrill. ‘Why am I even
talking
to you, anyway? None of this is your business.’ She looked at Drew. ‘Your boyfriend’s got the right idea. Sounds as if he’s going back where he belongs. Why don’t you just go with him?’

In a quiet way it was something of a crisis. Ignoring Millie, Thea focused on Drew. Was he thinking they could leave everything to the police, now they seemed to have reconsidered Richard’s cause of death? Did he
think it was all over? It would be perfectly logical to take that view, she supposed – and in failing to do so, she was very likely showing herself to be deeply irrational. But from his estimated time of arrival back home, it would appear that he still intended to go to Cirencester and talk to the police, which was reassuring.

‘We’ve spent all morning with your grandmother,’ she told Millie, making no attempt to conceal the accusation in her tone. ‘She’s a very remarkable person. So strong and sharp-witted.’

‘Yeah,’ muttered the girl. ‘Tell me about it.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘You should try living with her. She never stops criticising, nagging, belittling. My dad mostly, of course, but anybody who comes near her is fair game. Nobody’s ever good enough. Nobody but her has any sense. You know why we didn’t tell her about Dad on Saturday? Because she’d have said it was all somebody’s fault – mine or Martin’s or even yours. Yes, she probably blames you as much as anyone.’

‘She doesn’t. She was very grateful for our interest. She needed somebody to talk it through with. And how come you’ve changed your tune so much? You were all on her side when I saw you on Friday.’ Millie’s abrupt alterations of view were unsettling. She seemed to utter random statements as to her opinions and feelings with no concern for consistency.

‘My father has died,’ said Millie with considerable emphasis. ‘I have no idea what happened to him, or
what happens next. I’ve been trying to make sense of it, thinking it all through – the same as Gran’s been doing, by the sound of it. If he killed himself, then he must have been feeling guilty about something, don’t you think? And if another person pushed him and killed him, that’s totally different. How am I
supposed
to feel, not knowing which is true? Should I be sorry for him or angry with him? The police are useless. Brendan only wants to get his hands on Gran’s stuff. If I didn’t have Judith, I think I’d go mad. And now here you are, muddling everything up.’

‘Go back to your friend,’ said Thea crossly. ‘We’ll be out of your way after today.’

‘All right.’ But she didn’t go back into the shop immediately. Drew was watching them, his phone call ended. Millie turned to him. ‘Sorry if I was rude,’ she said. ‘It’s just all so horrendous. I don’t know what I’m saying half the time.’

‘You weren’t rude to me,’ he said mildly. ‘And of course you’re in a state. Anybody would be.’

Millie’s eyes filled with tears and she stumbled back to where Judith was presumably sitting patiently waiting for her.

‘You were too nice to her,’ said Thea. ‘She was fine when she was cross.’

He merely rolled his eyes, and took her by the arm. ‘Come on. We’re in a hurry, remember.’

They drove to Cirencester in two cars, after Thea had returned to the house and quickly removed perishables from the fridge, checked that lights were off and doors locked. She collected her own possessions, and left the key under a rather obvious stone. Then she led the way, because she was more sure of the route to the police station and Drew’s TomTom required an address or postcode, apparently. She missed being able to chat in the car, her dog still sulking on the back seat and in no mood for sympathetic listening. As they yet again navigated the length of Chedworth, seeing nobody, admiring the old stone houses on either side, Thea was forced to acknowledge the special beauty of the place. The very silence was appealing. The old lane that must have meandered parallel to the little River Churn for millennia still seemed to have its own independent existence, regardless of the human erections that had sprung up along its length. There were sections that
remained pure countryside, between the sporadic clusters of buildings. Three of these clusters were distinctive enough to have their own names – Middle and Lower, as well as actual Chedworth with the church and pub to give it superiority. Pushing aside thoughts and worries about murder and misery, the history of the place made itself felt. Thea was a natural historian, anyway. She felt the presence of past populations, identified their traces in old walls and lanes. And Chedworth offered a good deal more than most, with its Roman villa and ancient woodland. She was sorry to be leaving, in a way. There might have been some real enjoyment to be had, if things had gone differently.

She regretted the missed walks, the closer inspections of gardens. She hadn’t even seen the villa for which Chedworth was famous. Speeding down the A429 yet again, she had a sense of endings and omissions. She was not going to be a house-sitter any more. She would never again be dropped into an unknown village, to discover crimes and secrets and unexpected characters. In many ways, she was glad. But she would miss the adventure, the feeling of being a kind of pioneer pushing into the middle of a settlement and stirring it up. There had been times when she had forced people to take a closer look at themselves; to accept that there was a dark side to their idyll. Now she would be confronted by a very different challenge: building a solid relationship with Drew and his children. She would have to understand the nuances of his work, and be at his side in creating a viable business.
And perhaps on idle days, they could revisit some of the memorable little places she had come to know over the past three years.

Cirencester was quiet, parking easy. Hearing a deep canine sigh from the back seat, Thea decided to show mercy and take the dog with her. ‘Come on, then,’ she said, fishing the lead from the pocket in her door. ‘You’ve spent enough time in the car, poor old thing.’ Hepzie wasn’t old at all, but middle age was certainly upon her.

Drew gave the spaniel a quizzical look, but said nothing, as they assembled at the front of the building.

‘I can’t remember why we’re here,’ said Thea. ‘I’ve been thinking about other things entirely.’

‘We’re representing Mrs Wilshire,’ he said. ‘Making the case that she’s not satisfied with the conclusion that her son killed himself. And requesting that they keep her informed directly, and not through the Goodison woman.’

‘Oh.’ She blinked in admiration. ‘That sounds very bold.’

‘I haven’t got time to mess about. They need me at home.’

‘Let’s hope Higgins is here, then. I doubt if anybody else would listen to us.’

‘At least it’s open. A lot of them have been shut down recently.’

‘It brings back memories,’ she said, looking up at the
bland modern building. ‘I came here quite often with Phil.’

‘Does he still work here?’

‘I think so. I never really understood how it was arranged as far as CID was concerned. Even Jessica gets confused about the way they share the facilities.’ A pang accosted her at the realisation that she had not spoken to her daughter for at least two weeks, and not seen her for some months. Never a terribly attentive mother, she seemed to be in danger of letting Jess drift away completely, with her fixation on Drew.

‘Well, come on, then.’

Detective Inspector Jeremy Higgins was in his office and willing to see them. He made no mention of the dog, which jumped up at his legs as if greeting its most favourite person in the world. He merely patted her head and pushed her down. ‘Well, you were right,’ he said heavily. ‘It was murder.’

A sadness hung in the air. Higgins looked weary and depressed. Drew made a sound between annoyance and surprise. Thea pulled at her dog and wondered what happened next.

‘The post mortem,’ Higgins went on. ‘The pathologist found splinters of wood in the man’s scalp. And there was no wood anywhere on the floor of the barn.’

‘In that case, we know where the murder weapon is,’ said Thea. ‘We found it last night. That’s what we came here to tell you.’

‘Have you arrested Andrew Emerson?’ Drew interrupted.

‘One at a time,’ pleaded Higgins, making a pacifying gesture with both hands. He looked at Thea. ‘Weapon?’

‘A big plank of wood, propped against the wall of the barn. We left it where we found it, and hardly touched it. It might have blood on it.’

Higgins picked up a phone from his desk and thumbed it. When somebody responded, he gave brisk instructions for a search for the object. ‘If you haven’t found it already,’ he added. He listened for a moment, and then said, ‘Good. Keep everyone away from it, then.’ Then he spoke again to his visitors. ‘We’ve been searching the premises since eleven o’clock today. Your murder weapon had been noted but not examined, apparently. I’m told it’s rather large.’

‘If they knew a wooden object killed him, and there was the very thing sitting there, why didn’t they put two and two together?’ demanded Thea.

‘They’re proceeding cautiously, starting inside the barn. These things take time.’

‘Well this will be welcome news for Mrs Wilshire,’ said Drew.

‘Really?’ Higgins raised his eyebrows.

‘She’s very anxious to know what happened. And even though it’s appalling to have your son murdered, I suspect it’s marginally less terrible than to have him commit suicide. That would make her feel guilty about her showing as a mother. Don’t you think?’

‘I don’t know. I can’t see much comfort for her in this news, I must admit.’

‘But poor Andrew Emerson!’ said Thea. ‘Surely you don’t think he did it?’

‘You know him?’

‘Not really. We met him yesterday. We met just about everybody yesterday, actually. It was a very busy day.’

‘We haven’t arrested him. He was here for questioning, but he’s gone home now. A very unhappy man. Unhappy men do desperate things. But there were never any grounds for arresting him. Not until we get a lot more evidence.’ He sighed. ‘
If
we ever do.’

‘Well, I’m sure we can leave it in your capable hands now,’ said Drew. ‘I have to be getting home.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I might just make it in time to meet the children after school.’

‘Who’s doing it, if you don’t?’ Thea asked.

‘Pandora, of course. And she’s gone well beyond the call of duty already.’

That was very true, thought Thea. Pandora was a model of generosity. But then, a man left on his own with young children was never going to want for female solicitude. Drew in particular, with his soft nature, would have them flocking round. She would follow him to Staverton as quickly as she could, she resolved.
She
was his woman of choice, with nothing else to do for the foreseeable future but collect his kids from school and find something for them to eat.

‘Well …’ said Higgins, into the lull. ‘If that’s all …?’

‘You pulled the rug from under our feet,’ said Drew. ‘We thought we’d have to convince you there were
reasons to suspect it was murder. As it turns out, we could have saved ourselves the trouble, and simply phoned you about the piece of wood.’

‘It was good to see you,’ Higgins said, obviously meaning Thea rather than Drew. ‘Although I’m not so sure about your dog.’

Hepzie was increasingly stir-crazy, roaming around the small room, sniffing the corners and eyeing the people impatiently. ‘She needs a good long walk,’ said Thea.

‘Well, thank you for coming,’ Higgins tried again. ‘Now, if there’s nothing else …’

‘I feel I haven’t done what Richard wanted me to,’ said Thea sadly. ‘All I did was leave the house far more untidy than I found it.’

‘How come?’ asked Higgins.

‘I’m sure we told you. Richard was employing me to sort through his mother’s things. He wanted to know what was there – three bedrooms and an attic all full of accumulated stuff. Clothes and papers, mainly, but all kinds of other things as well.’

‘A stamp collection, for example,’ said Drew.

Higgins was edging them towards the door like a subtle sheepdog. He reached around them and pulled it open. ‘Bye, then,’ he said absently. His tongue worked around his teeth as if chasing a thought. ‘Stamps?’ he said.

Neither Thea nor Drew answered. They were already moving down the short corridor to the front office.

‘Did you say stamps?’ Higgins asked again.

‘Purely as an example,’ said Drew, with a quick look of warning at Thea. ‘People of Rita Wilshire’s generation usually collected stamps, didn’t they?’

‘So you found a stamp collection in her attic?’ He addressed Thea.

‘That’s right. So what?’

‘Only that I noticed a message on the computer, earlier today, alerting everyone to an attempt to sell a valuable stamp last night. It was tagged, you see. Every stamp dealer in the UK had been asked to report it if it turned up. And it has. In Gloucester.’

‘It can’t be anything to do with these stamps,’ said Drew firmly. ‘You can’t imagine that an old lady of ninety would be stealing rare stamps.’

‘No, Drew, listen,’ said Thea. ‘What if she
reported
it missing?’

‘When? She only knew they’d gone this morning.’

‘Ah! So she did. You’re right – it’s nothing to do with the Wilshires.’

‘Hmm,’ said Higgins. ‘I expect you’re right. But it seems an odd coincidence, all the same.’

‘Not at all. I wish I’d never mentioned it,’ said Drew irritably. ‘All this is down to me,’ he suddenly burst out, standing in the middle of the police station’s reception area. ‘Everything is my fault. I brought Thea into this. I encouraged Richard to make an inventory of the house contents. I reassured him that his mother was perfectly happy in the home. I have interfered at every stage, and look where’s it’s got me.’

Everybody – including the man on the desk and a woman with a teenaged boy sitting against a wall obviously waiting to be seen – stared at him in dumb amazement.

‘You didn’t kill Mr Wilshire, did you?’ said Higgins in a soft voice.

Drew laughed wildly. ‘No, I didn’t. But I wouldn’t blame anybody for thinking I did. Without me, it might never have happened.’

‘For heaven’s sake!’ Thea spoke sharply. ‘Don’t be such a fool. You were doing your job and helping me with mine. You haven’t done a single thing to feel guilty about.’

‘I have, though,’ he said, giving her a tragic look.

‘Stop it,’ she ordered him. ‘You were only doing what you were asked to. Richard wanted somebody to sort out his mother’s house.’ She threw up her hands in a gesture worthy of Jayjay Mason. ‘We’ve said all this already. Everything we did was well intended.’ She frowned, hearing herself. There didn’t seem to be any new things to say, and the old clichés rang increasingly hollow, the more she used them.

Higgins himself seemed to be at a loss, hovering indecisively in the doorway. ‘Let me check something,’ he said, mainly to himself. ‘Don’t go for a minute.’

He went back to the computer on his desk and started tapping keys. ‘Hmm,’ he said, twice, and ‘No, no.’ Then he looked up. ‘Can’t see anything that helps. Look, you two, there’s no need for you to hang about. I
admit we were wrong, and you were right. You should be pleased with yourselves, not feeling guilty.’

Then a phone rang on his desk and he waved them away without further words.

‘Well, that’s it then, is it?’ said Thea. ‘Can we just go home and leave it to the cops?’

‘Looks like it.’ They were leaving the building as they conversed, the words coming slowly.

‘Hepzie will be pleased, anyway.’

‘Rita Wilshire wouldn’t do anything illegal,’ he insisted. ‘Why would she?’

‘Forget it. Nobody would murder someone for a stamp.’

‘They might.’

‘Drew – they’re onto it now. They’ll do a proper examination and find all the clues they need to catch the killer. We can go.’

He sighed. ‘You have no idea how much I want to. I’ve got commitments. Children. Work. Maggs. I can’t be here any longer.’ They were almost at their cars, parked together a few yards from the police station.

‘Nobody’s asking you to.’

His face was still the picture of misery. ‘Who was it, Thea?’ he almost shouted. ‘Who did kill Richard Wilshire?’

She tried to calm him with a hand on his arm. ‘Not his mother,’ she said. ‘Or his daughter. Most likely it was somebody we’ve never even met, or heard of. A farmer who lost control of himself. Or was crazily
plotting vengeance for something that happened years ago. We did everything we could. We’ve given up our time, trying to help. Let it go, sweetheart. Give yourself a break.’

Then his phone warbled and she dropped her hand, half-hoping, half-dreading that it was his family summoning him home immediately.

But it was quickly apparent that it was no such thing. ‘Sorry?
Who
did you say? … But how did you find my number? … But the police … I really don’t think … Yes, she’s right here … If you really think … Yes, all right.’ He handed the phone to Thea with a helpless expression.
Who is it?
she mouthed, but he gave no reply.

‘Hello – who’s that?’ she said into the phone.

‘Norah Cookham. Listen, I’m so sorry about this, but I thought you’d want to know. My brother-in-law – the one who never forgets a car – has seen Richard Wilshire’s Honda in the woods, just a field away from that barn where you found him. It’s not really hidden, but he thinks the police haven’t noticed it.’