Murder by the Sea (18 page)

‘Well, that’s the thing, Libby. He’s coming home.’

‘Blimey, that was quick,’ said Libby. ‘I thought head injuries were kept in for much longer than that.’

‘I don’t know about that, I wasn’t told everything. His parents came down and the doctors talked to them.’

‘Were they nice?’

‘The parents?’ Jane hesitated. ‘Oh, yes. Very grateful, you know.’

‘So did you want to ask me something?’

‘Well, yes. This is a bit awkward.’

Libby stopped walking and waited. ‘Well, go on, then,’ she said. ‘What’s awkward and what do you want me to do?’

‘I wondered if you were doing anything later on this afternoon?’

‘Nothing I can’t put off,’ said Libby.

‘Only, you see, Terry’s coming home in an ambulance, and I said I’d be there to, er, look after him.’

‘Yes?’ prompted Libby. ‘Why do you need me?’

‘Because of Mike.’

‘Mike?’

‘Charteris. My new tenant.’

‘Oh?’ Libby’s ears pricked up.

‘You see, he’s been coming up to see me all week and he said he’d help me with Terry today.’

‘Ah.’ Libby smiled to herself. ‘I see. So you want me to come along so you can say, no thanks I’ve already got help?’

‘Exactly.’ Libby heard Jane’s sigh of relief. ‘You seemed the right person to ask.’

‘OK.’ Libby made a fast decision. ‘What time do you want me?’

‘Whenever you can come. I don’t know what time Terry will get here.’

Interpreting this to mean “come as soon as you can”, Libby said, ‘When I’ve had some lunch I’ll be on my way.’

She called Ben as she continued her walk home, telling him she would be back that evening as soon as she could. As they had no plans to do anything other than watch television and perhaps pop out to the pub for last orders, this wasn’t a problem.

Ali at the eight-til-late had started making fresh sandwiches, and Libby called in on her way past to pick up a ham and mustard on brown. When she’d eaten this, washed down with a glass of water, she cleaned her teeth, dragged a brush through her hair and left the cottage.

On the way to Nethergate, she pondered the situation. Fran, who had seen Mike Charteris, reported that he was slightly older than Terry, but good-looking nonetheless. A good-looking, single (presumably) man exhibiting concern for his young attractive landlady was not notably peculiar, but if the landlady had already fallen for one of her other tenants who was temporarily incapacitated, it would undoubtedly be unwelcome, unless, of course, the landlady had femme fatale leanings. Which, obviously, Jane didn’t.

It being Saturday in high season, Libby eventually had to park in the car park at the end of The Tops rather than in the street outside Jane’s house. By the time she rang the door bell, she was hot and sticky.

‘Lead me to a glass of water,’ she said as Jane opened the door.

‘Sorry, Libby.’ Jane shut the door. ‘Did you have to park miles away?’

‘Far enough,’ said Libby. ‘Now I just want to get to the top of these stairs and sit down.’

‘It’s really kind of you,’ said Jane, after she’d supplied the required glass of water. ‘Only Mike kept coming up to see if I was all right, or if I’d heard any more from the hospital, and – oh, I don’t know – it made me a bit uncomfortable.’

‘And he wanted to be here to help today.’

‘Yes.’ Jane nodded. ‘I know he’s only trying to be helpful, but I don’t know him, and –’ she broke off.

‘And?’ prompted Libby, after a moment.

‘I can’t explain it.’ Jane looked down at her hands. ‘He seemed to keep trying to get into the flat. It frightened me a bit.’

Libby suppressed a smile. ‘You are an attractive young woman, Jane.’

Colour crept up Jane’s neck. ‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ she said, clearing her throat, ‘but it didn’t quite seem like that, if you know what I mean.’

‘Do you mean he was threatening?’

‘No.’ Jane shook her head. ‘I can’t put my finger on it. Perhaps I’m just not very good with men.’

‘Except Terry,’ said Libby naughtily.

‘Well, I’ve known him a lot longer,’ said Jane, her colour now rising to her hairline.

‘But only just got to know him properly,’ said Libby.

‘Yes.’ Jane looked up. ‘Thanks to you, actually, Libby.’

One in the eye for Fran, thought Libby triumphantly.

‘Oh, I’m sure you would have – um – got together eventually,’ she said aloud.

‘Well, I’m really glad you asked him to come up and help. Not,’ she added hastily, ‘that things have gone very far, but we’ve had a couple of meals and been out for a drink.’ She smiled. ‘It’s been lovely.’

‘And then this has to happen,’ said Libby.

Jane’s face fell. ‘I know. And I still can’t understand it.’

‘Did you ever find out whether they took his wallet?’

‘Oh, yes, apparently, and his cash and keys. That’s why I had to leave the police my pass key that first night.’

‘Right,’ said Libby. ‘And no witnesses?’

‘No. Mike didn’t see anybody as he came along the road, but it must have only just happened, because Mrs Finch had brought her bin round to the front door only minutes before.’

‘Oh, of course, Tuesday was collection day. So this bloke took a real chance, then?’

‘No more than normal, I suppose.’ Jane shrugged. ‘The muggings I report on could have been seen by any number of people. They’re just chancers.’

‘And Terry was just coming in, too, you thought, because all his lights were off.’

‘Yes.’

‘Then it’s odd that Mrs Finch didn’t see him, too.’

‘If she didn’t see the mugger, why would she have seen Terry?’

‘True. But the other funny thing is, if Mike was walking home, presumably from the direction of the town, why didn’t he see them ahead of him?’

‘The mugger must have gone, and he wouldn’t have seen Terry until he got right up to the steps, would he?’

‘No.’ Libby shook her head regretfully.

‘What are you getting at, Libby?’

‘Nothing.’ Libby stood up and went to look out of the window, just as Jane’s front door bell rang.

‘Is it the ambulance?’ Jane sprang up from her chair.

‘No, I can’t see who it is,’ said Libby craning her neck.

‘Oh, God, it’ll be Mike again.’ Jane’s shoulders drooped.

‘I’ll go,’ said Libby briskly and started out of the door before Jane could stop her, hoping it was Mike, and not some perfectly innocent visitor.

Just outside the door of Jane’s flat, stood a good-looking man with greying dark hair.

‘Oh!’ he said, looking surprised.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Libby with a quizzical look. ‘Can I help you?’

‘I just came to ask if Jane was all right. I believe Terry’s coming home today. I’m one of the tenants.’

His voice was deep, with a hint of a London accent.

‘Yes, she’s fine, thank you,’ said Libby. ‘I’m here to help with Terry. But thank you for offering.’

‘Are you Jane’s mother?’ He peered at her.

Libby suppressed indignation and simply smiled. ‘No, I’m a friend,’ she said. ‘Thank you so much for coming.’ And, still smiling, she gently closed the door.

‘Thanks, Libby,’ said Jane, when Libby returned to the sitting room. ‘Did he seem angry?’

‘Angry?’ Libby raised her eyebrows. ‘No. Why on earth should he have been?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jane shook her head again. ‘That’s part of the feeling I always get. That he’s angry that I don’t let him in.’

‘Just a determined suitor,’ said Libby, although she privately wondered if Jane would be safe alone after she’d gone. Silly, she apostrophized herself. Jane had been alone here all week, except for Mrs Finch in the basement. ‘What else do you know about him? The agents checked his references, didn’t they?’

‘Oh, yes. He’s staying down here doing some sort of contract work. He has a flat in London, but didn’t want to commute. He’ll only be here for a few weeks, but I thought, you know –’

‘A bird in the hand,’ Libby finished for her.

‘Exactly. And the agents are trying to find me a permanent tenant. Unless –’ she broke off again.

‘Unless what?’

‘I sell the house.’

Libby was surprised. She hadn’t expected that.

‘Why would you want to sell it?’

‘If things don’t work out for me in Nethergate I’d be silly to stay here. I wouldn’t get much for the house with sitting tenants, but it would be enough for a reasonable deposit for a flat back in London.’

‘When you say, work out for you in Nethergate, what do you mean?’

‘Well,’ said Jane, ‘as I told you, I haven’t exactly made many friends here, have I? And the job really hasn’t got any prospects of promotion. So if things stay as they are, there isn’t much to keep me.’

‘What about Terry?’

Jane’s colour returned in a rush. ‘I don’t know,’ she said.

As Libby heard a vehicle drawing up outside, Jane was saved the embarrassment of continuing the conversation. The door bell rang, and the next twenty minutes were taken up with getting Terry into his flat, after which Libby tactfully left while Jane fussed around him, and once more managed to divert Mike Charteris from his obvious intention to help.

Chapter Eighteen

TERRY WAS PERSUADED TO eat the fish and chips Libby fetched for them all, and perked up enough for her to feel comfortable about asking a few questions.

‘I don’t know much,’ he said, prodding a chip into a puddle of tomato sauce.

‘You didn’t see anyone, obviously?’

‘I don’t know.’ He frowned underneath the bandages. ‘I can’t remember anything except walking up the road towards the house. The doc said that was normal.’

‘Handy for the attacker. Wonder if he knew that.’

‘Knew that Terry wouldn’t remember?’ Jane looked startled.

‘Well, even I knew about post-traumatic amnesia,’ said Libby.

‘Really?’

‘I think this kind is called retrograde,’ explained Libby. ‘And if Terry remembers walking up the road, it isn’t too bad. It means he can remember events only a few minutes before the attack. Isn’t that right, Terry?’

Terry started to nod, and winced. ‘Yeah. I saw the other kind in the army. Nasty.’

‘The other kind?’ Jane turned towards him.

‘Don’t remember anything after the attack. You get guys doing all sorts of things they wouldn’t do normally. We had one who took all his clothes off and kept calling for his mum. He didn’t know anything about it afterwards. But he couldn’t work,

either.’

Jane looked appalled. ‘I never knew.’

‘Most people don’t know that bit,’ said Libby, ‘but a lot of people know about the ordinary sort, where you lose the memory of what actually happened.’

‘What’s your point, exactly?’

‘Well, whoever did it, could rely on Terry not being able to give evidence about it.’

‘But I should remember eventually,’ said Terry. ‘The doc said.’

‘When it’s too late, though,’ said Libby. ‘What have the police said?’

‘That’s a bit odd, actually.’ Terry tried to push himself up against the pillows and Jane rushed to help. ‘This flat was searched.’

‘I know,’ said Jane. ‘I gave them my key.’

‘Not by the police,’ said Terry.

‘You mean -?’ Jane was shocked.

‘They’d already used your keys before Mike came along, then.’ Libby nodded to herself. ‘But what about Mrs Finch? She’d only just been out with her bin, Jane tells me, and you weren’t on the steps then.’

‘I don’t know.’ Terry’s face was losing colour. ‘But someone searched my flat.’

‘Was anything taken?’

‘Don’t know.’ Terry closed his eyes and Jane frowned at Libby.

‘OK.’ Libby stood up. ‘Can I do anything else for you, Jane? If not, I’ll be off home before it gets dark.’

Jane smiled in relief. ‘No, nothing, thanks, Libby. It was so good of you to come.’

‘Yeah, thanks,’ said Terry, briefly opening his eyes.

‘There’s something odd about this,’ said Libby quietly, as Jane saw her to the front door.

Jane nodded. ‘I know. I’ll see if he knows anything else in the morning. He needs to rest now.’ She looked down at her hands. ‘Um – you’re suspicious of Mike, aren’t you?’

‘Perhaps I shouldn’t be, but it all strikes me as a bit odd and coincidental,’ said Libby. ‘Although I can’t for the life of me think why Mike should steal from Terry, or what he might want to find in his flat.’

‘But you think he took the flat deliberately?’

‘Well, maybe. But that would mean he knew Terry already, and that he lived here. If so, why hadn’t he tried to burgle him before?’

Jane looked up quickly. ‘There was a burglary before,’ she said.

‘Really? When?’

‘Ages ago. Before I moved in here. I should have said attempted burglary, because no one actually got in. The front door had been jemmied, but that was it. The police thought whoever it was had been disturbed.’