Love Lies Bleeding (10 page)

‘Raymond's shocking death brings another complication, and not just from my point of view as one of the trustees.’

‘Go on.’

‘I've already told you that both Michael Raine Senior and his brother, Anthony, the founders of the family business and the fortune that sprang from it, were obsessed with starting “dynasties”. So it's not altogether surprising that the family business and family fortunes were put in trust until such time as the sons of the founders should produce issue. Now, with Raymond dead, part of the family fortune — a percentage of the business nominally held in trust for Raymond Raine -will come to Mrs Stephanie Raine as Michael's widow.’

‘I see.’ At least he was beginning to see that a whole host of new possibilities had been opened up. And while he might still be getting his head round the trust's stipulations, he was also forming the suspicion that Stephanie Raine's grief-stricken reaction to the news of Raymond's death must surely be far from genuine. Given the terms of the trust, it struck him as unlikely that any of the potential beneficiaries would be overly concerned about the continued good health of the others, particularly as in Stephanie Raine's case she and Raymond were merely step-relatives and not the loving mother and son he had assumed them to be. With Raymond dead, both his stepmother and his cousin stood to benefit financially, while Felicity, the self-confessed and supposed guilty party in his death, stood to lose everything. The best she could hope for was that the trustees decided to take her on as a charity case.

But as he said to Llewellyn after they had thanked Jonas Singleton and left him to lock up, at least now that he knew their real relationship, Elaine Enderby's description of Stephanie Raine's fondling affection for Raymond as ‘inappropriate’ struck Rafferty as even more so. Obviously she had believed that Raymond was Stephanie's son — how much more inappropriate was her effusive fondling of a grown-up
stepson?

Llewellyn nodded. ‘From your description of Mrs Raine Senior's reaction when you broke the news of Raymond's death and his widow's confession, it certainly sounds as if she disliked Felicity, hated her even. But do you think her dislike of Felicity is due more to the jealousy of an older woman for a younger one's fresher beauty, or might it be a sexual jealousy?’

‘What? You reckon Stephanie had the hots for Raymond?’

Llewellyn winced at this crudity and said, ‘I wouldn't have expressed it quite like that myself.’ Although Rafferty was beginning to suspect the possibility himself, he always had the devilish urge to force his repressed Methodist sergeant to speak of such matters — if only to save himself from inferences that he was obsessed with the sex lives of others.

‘The thought did occur to me,’ Llewellyn admitted, ‘even if I would have phrased it differently.’

Rafferty grinned. There's nothing wrong in calling a spade a spade,’ he said.

‘And what about Felicity Raine?’ Llewellyn added as they reached the car. ‘What light do these revelations cast on her and her possible motives? Did she know about the terms of the trust? Or did Raymond keep her in ignorance of its contents and the whys and wherefores of how the family fortune was to be dispersed? Certainly, the fact that Raymond took steps to keep the identity of his legal advisers secret by concealing their contact details in a hidden compartment in his desk indicates his determination to keep Felicity in ignorance of his financial affairs.

‘But … Felicity Raine is a woman,’ Llewellyn observed as they got in the car and he started it up.

‘You spotted that?’

Llewellyn ignored Rafferty's interruption. ‘Felicity Raine is a woman,’ he repeated. 'A member of a sex renowned the world over for its curiosity. It's possible that Felicity searched her husband's study and his two desks until she found the secret compartment.

‘Raymond Raine was a busy man with the family firm to run. He would presumably have spent many hours away from the marital home. His secretary told us how hard he worked. It took the two of us no more than thirty minutes to find the secret drawer. Felicity Raine, with hours of leisure time in which to pry, may well have found the secret drawer also.’

‘True,’ Rafferty conceded as they headed back to the station. ‘Not,’ he pointed out, ‘that it would have advanced her knowledge of her financial future one jot, unless Raymond
had
chosen to enlighten her.’

‘Not necessarily,’ Llewellyn contradicted him. ‘Even if she failed to locate the secret drawer in her husband's desk, there are other ways to find out how she stood financially. The wills of the deceased brothers would, like all probated wills, be open to public scrutiny. If Felicity Raine was aware of that fact, she could have applied for copies and learned the details of the trust.’

‘Yes, but if she did so, she would learn that killing Raymond wouldn't make her a wealthy widow — rather the opposite, in fact, which rather takes away her motive for killing him. Remind me to ask her if she knew the terms of the wills. Oh, and you can check with the Probate Office in the morning and find out if Felicity
did
apply for copies of the late partners’ wills.’

Llewellyn nodded. ‘Certainly we can ask Felicity Raine if she knew the terms, but maybe, given the deceit practised by both Stephanie and Mike Raine, it might be unwise to take what she or any other member of the Raine family says at face value.’

Rafferty nodded. As Llewellyn had said, given the ready lies of the other Raine family members, it would be extremely foolish to take what any of them said as gospel. And even though Elaine Enderby had told him that, as far as she knew, Felicity had no close family, and Felicity herself had confirmed it, Rafferty resolved to make sure of this, too, as soon as possible. He was determined not to give Llewellyn occasion to say ‘I told you so’ should Felicity turn out to follow her stepmother-in-law's failure to be as truthful as a murder investigation required.

Having failed to check the truth about relationships once, he was not about to make the same mistake a second time.

It had turned into a long day. Jonas Singleton had agreed to stay late in his office especially to see them. By eight o'clock, Rafferty for one was more than ready to call it a day. But as they entered the station and he saw Bill Beard beckon him and nod towards a woman sitting in the waiting area, he suspected the day was about to become even longer.

Beard nodded again
towards a plump woman in her mid-thirties who was currently the only occupant of the station's waiting area. Her reddened nose and eyes revealed she was upset. This redness did no more to improve her plain appearance than did her mannish tweed trouser suit and stout brown brogues.

‘Name of Sandrine Agnew —
Ms,
I shouldn't wonder,’ Beard added. ‘Claims she's a good friend of Felicity Raine and demanded to speak to the officer in charge. Said she's got evidence—’

‘Evidence,
yes. I'm always glad of more of that. Ms Agnew, you say?’

Beard nodded.

Rafferty beckoned Llewellyn and they crossed the floor to the waiting area. ‘Ms Agnew?’

The woman, who until he spoke had seemed lost in her own thoughts, looked up and nodded.

Rafferty introduced himself and Llewellyn. ‘I believe you've been waiting to see me?’

She nodded again, before earnestly asking, ‘I spoke to Stephanie Raine earlier. She said that you've arrested Felicity Raine for the murder of her husband? Surely it can't be true?’

She didn't wait for Rafferty to confirm or deny it, but immediately continued. ‘You've made a dreadful mistake. Felicity didn't kill Raymond. She couldn't — wouldn't. Besides, you do know he beat her, don't you? Raymond really was a very violent man and if Felicity had to resort to self-defence measures—’

It was interesting that she should make the same claim as Elaine Enderby. To have two independent witnesses suggest the same thing strengthened the likelihood that their accusations were true, and also increased the chances that the charges against Felicity Raine would be reduced to manslaughter — if they even advanced as far as a trial. It was now clear that Felicity was no longer the only suspect with a good motive for murder; and whilst any financial motive she might have had for killing Raymond was now dead in the water, the same wasn't true of Stephanie and Mike Raine, who had both been less than open with them.

‘I understand your concerns, Ms Agnew,’ Rafferty told her. ‘But as you're a friend of Mrs Raine, what would you say if I told you that on the very morning of Mr Raine's death, she gave us a confession — a voluntary confession?’

Sandrine Agnew looked suitably startled. ‘What can have possessed her?’ She searched Rafferty's face for clues. ‘You didn't believe her, I hope?’

‘At the moment, since your friend has now retracted her confession, I'm not sure what to believe,’ he admitted. ‘But let me assure you that my entire team will be putting in long hours in order to find the truth. If Mrs Raine is innocent of this crime we'll find out.’

Hope glistened briefly in her eyes at his words.

‘Perhaps, while you're here, you could explain why you believe that Mr Raine was violent towards his wife.’

‘One would have had to be willfully blind not to notice. It was perfectly obvious that he beat her. One only had to look at Felicity's poor, bruised face to know what went on. And then I saw her several times in Casualty — I work there as a volunteer — but when I tried to speak to her, she rushed off without waiting for treatment.’

‘I see. But from what you say, Mrs Raine might have attended Casualty for something else, especially as it seems she didn't actually confide in you about this matter?’

Sandrine Agnew looked put out that this was so and that she was obliged to admit it. ‘Though I suppose it's understandable that Felicity suffered from misplaced loyalty. Many women do, I'm afraid. I urged Felicity to leave him. But even though she told me several times that she would, she kept putting it off. I think she was too frightened of what his reaction might be if she did so, even though I was more than happy to offer her a roof.’

Rafferty, as he studied the rather mannish Ms Agnew, got the unmistakable impression that Bill Beard's political incorrectness had been spot on and that a roof wasn't all she would like to offer Felicity.

‘She wouldn't even allow me to speak about the abuse. She just changed the subject very pointedly every time I brought it up. She was in denial, of course. Willfully so.’

She wasn't the only one, thought Rafferty. It was clear that Sandrine Agnew carried a torch for Felicity Raine. But it seemed unlikely the exquisite Felicity would have anything stronger than feelings of friendship for the plain and ungainly Sandrine Agnew.

‘But I want to do anything I can that might help her. Someone has to, and from what you say it's clear that Felicity is in no state to help herself. But until I can come up with some more pro-active way of helping her, the least I can do is make an official statement about Raymond's violence. I want to be sure it's taken into account.’

‘Of course. Perhaps you'd wait here while I get my sergeant to organise someone to take it?’

‘Can't
you
do it? I promise it won't take very long.’

Rafferty, thinking of the evening with Abra that lay ahead, was tempted to refuse. But then he thought of Felicity Raine, who would surely, come the morrow, find herself in the cells, and changed his mind. Besides, he reminded himself, he might learn something valuable. Sandrine Agnew had claimed to be a friend rather than just a neighbour. It was possible she knew more about the Raines and the state of their marriage than Elaine Enderby.

He collected a statement form from behind the desk and led her and Llewellyn to one of the interview rooms.

Once the statement was taken care of, Rafferty asked Sandrine Agnew, ‘How come you and Mrs Raine know one another?’

‘We're unlikely friends, you mean? Me being so plain and Felicity so gorgeous?’

Rafferty hastened to deny that such had been in his mind.

To Sandrine Agnew's credit, she laughed.

‘I've found that not everyone is as reticent in airing their opinions as you, inspector.’

Beside him, Llewellyn shifted restlessly. A tiny sigh escaped from his lips as if in protest at such a dubious judgment. But he said nothing.

‘Several people haven't scrupled to say exactly what they're thinking. Anyway, as to how come we became friends, we both used to attend the same keep-fit classes and a group of us would go out afterwards to the pub and undo the good we had just done. Gradually, people fell away, as you do when it comes to keeping fit. Felicity and I did the same, but we seemed to have struck up an acquaintance more deep than merely one of commiserating with one another over our aching bodies. And although we dropped the keep-fit, we continued with the pub bit for a while, but then that too petered out. I met her again shortly after she married Raymond and even though she said nothing, I could see that something was troubling her.’

‘Apart from the violence you've already mentioned, what else can you tell me about their relationship?’

‘Not a lot, I'm afraid. I didn't see much of him. Felicity and I generally met elsewhere and she rarely talked about him — I suppose she was worried that if she did so she might encourage more unwelcome questions about her bruises and black eyes.’

‘May I ask
you
something?’ Llewellyn asked.

‘Of course.’

‘Do you think there's any possibility that she could have killed Raymond?’

Ms Agnew shook her head vehemently. ‘No. Never. I'd stake my life on it.

Felicity Raine certainly didn't lack for champions. Though it must be sad to know, Rafferty thought, as Sandrine Agnew surely must, that your love was hopeless.

Once Rafferty had ushered Sandrine Agnew out, with reassurances that he would do his best by her friend, he said to Llewellyn that that really
was
it for the night. ‘I don't know about you, but I for one can absorb nothing more.’

By now it was eight thirty. He'd just have time to shower and change into one of the fancy Italian suits he'd treated himself to a couple of investigations ago and, with the associations they conjured up, he thought he'd never bring himself to wear. But memories fade, even black memories.