Murder by the Sea (32 page)

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Authors: Lesley Cookman

BOOK: Murder by the Sea
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‘Not surprised, exactly. She was when she first saw the passport. But by the time I told her the story she’d had time to put it all together herself. Why?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. I just wondered if perhaps Rosa had told her more than she’s letting on.’

‘More about what?’ asked Fran.

‘I don’t know that, either, but Rosa’s disappeared, hasn’t she? Perhaps Jane actually knows who she is and where she went.’

‘Now, why on earth would you think that?’

‘I just think she’s been too innocent about the whole thing,’ said Libby. ‘Everything. She hasn’t really been bothered by any of it, except Terry’s attack.’

‘Attacks plural.’

‘Yes, but you said now she seems really scared. Something’s registered with her.’

‘You were the one saying it would be enough to scare anybody, just now,’ said Fran.

‘I know. But it only just struck me. I think we ought to tell her about Andrei and see what the reaction is.’

‘Who’s we, Tonto?’

‘Oh, all right, me, then.’

‘And what are we expecting?’ said Fran. ‘That she’s going to own up to his murder?’

‘No, of course not. Do you know whether Ian’s got any further on that?’

‘No, but he wouldn’t keep me up to date. And unless he wants to see me again, I can hardly ask him.’

‘Well, I’m going to call Jane and find out how Terry is and see if I can’t slip in a mention of Andrei Gruesome.’

‘Gruzevich,’ said Fran.

‘And him. And I’ll let you know what happens.’

‘Libby, please don’t start poking around too deeply,’ said Fran.

‘I’m only going to talk to Jane,’ said Libby. ‘What on earth could happen to me?’

Chapter Thirty-one

LIBBY POTTERED AROUND MAKING more tea and some toast, while thinking about her approach to Jane. She wasn’t sure what had made her suspicious, even less what she was suspicious of, she was just certain that Jane was keeping something from them. And that could mean she was keeping something from the police which would help them find out who was behind Terry’s attacks. And maybe even Andrei’s killer.

That brought her up short. Rosa had told Jane a farrago of lies, which didn’t include her Transnistrian lover, so Jane wouldn’t react to his identity after all. Although Fran had told her about the real Rosa and the connection to Lena, so perhaps …

‘You silly bugger,’ she said out loud. ‘Carried away, that’s what you are.’ Regretfully, she abandoned all reflections on Jane’s possible ulterior motives and went upstairs to shower.

Later, she decided it was still a good idea to ask how Jane, and more importantly, Terry, were. There was no reply from her mobile, and the
Mercury
hadn’t heard from her. Bob, the news editor, expressed horror at this further attack.

‘She hasn’t rung in, no, but then she’s probably got more than enough on her plate,’ he said. ‘Give her our best when you see her, won’t you? And tell her she’s not even to think of coming back until she’s better.’

Deciding that Jane was almost certainly at the hospital, Libby thought it would not come amiss if she were to visit the injured party herself. No flowers this time, she thought, but a card, perhaps. She drove round to the eight-til-late and picked the most appropriate of Ali’s selection, then set course for the Kent and Canterbury hospital.

She managed to find a parking space outside the gates, thus saving several pounds in charges, and set off for the main block.

She was directed to the right ward, where she discovered, to her relief, that Terry was once again not in intensive care, but in a general ward. She was, however, told that he wasn’t allowed any visitors but his parents and his “fiancée”.

‘Is his fiancée in there now?’ asked Libby.

‘She’s been there all the time,’ said the staff nurse pulling a face. ‘Can’t get her to go home. His parents tried to persuade her, but she wouldn’t go.’

‘Do you think she would come out and see me?’ asked Libby. ‘Tell her it’s Libby.’

A few minutes later Jane emerged from a room further down the corridor. Libby was shocked at her appearance.

‘My God, Jane. When did you last sleep?’ asked Libby, taking her hands and sitting her down on the bench.

‘I dozed by the bed last night,’ said Jane in an exhausted voice. ‘And the night before. I have to be here when he wakes up.’

Hasn’t he woken up yet?’ Libby felt her heart sink.

‘Oh, yes, but only for a little while at a time.’

She brightened. ‘The doctors are very impressed with him.’

‘I’m sure,’ said Libby, thinking that Terry must be almost superhuman to have survived both attacks so well. ‘Has he damaged his ribs any further?’

‘I don’t know. Apparently they don’t X-ray ribs these days, but they have to be careful of fluid collecting in the lungs because people don’t cough with broken ribs.’

Libby correctly interpreted this to mean it hurt too much to cough.

‘Does he remember what happened this time?’ she said. ‘Although the rest of you know, so I suppose it doesn’t matter that much.’

‘I haven’t asked him,’ said Jane. ‘I just can’t believe that all this has happened just after we got together.’

‘It was the body, really, wasn’t it?’ said Libby cheerfully. ‘If it wasn’t for that, you wouldn’t have met Fran and me.’

‘I suppose it was.’ Jane nodded. ‘Have the police made any more progress on that? I’d forgotten all about it.’

‘They know who it is,’ said Libby. She watched Jane’s tired face carefully. ‘Your Rosa lent her passport to Lena, his sister. Fran told you about that when you saw Rosa’s passport.’

‘It’s him?’ If possible, Jane’s face lost even more colour. ‘It’s Lena’s brother?’

‘You didn’t realise when Fran told you the story?’

‘No.’

‘His name was Andrei,’ said Libby gently, ‘but they still don’t know who killed him, or why.’

‘No.’ Jane’s voice was hardly above a whisper. Libby watched her for a moment.

‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to take you home for a bit of rest?’ she asked. ‘You’re absolutely wrecked aren’t you?’

‘I’ve got my car,’ said Jane, rousing herself slightly, ‘but, no, I don’t want to go home.’

‘Well, how about coming back with me for an hour or so? The spare bed’s still made up.’

Jane seemed to focus on her properly for the first time. ‘Yes … perhaps that would be better.’

‘Better?’ Libby frowned.

Jane shook her head. ‘Closer. Sorry. Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?’

‘Of course not,’ said Libby. ‘Go on, get your coat, or your bag, or whatever and let the staff know where you’ll be.’

‘No need to do that,’ said Jane quickly. ‘They’ve got my mobile number. I’ll get my bag.’

Still frowning, Libby watched her go back down the corridor and wondered if she was doing the right thing.

By the time Libby had navigated out of Canterbury, Jane was asleep and Libby was left with her thoughts. She’d been right, Jane hadn’t known who the body on Dragon Island was, and now she did, it was obvious that she knew more than anyone had suspected about Rosa. Certainly more than she and Fran had suspected. She couldn’t wait to speak to Fran.

As soon as they arrived at Allhallow’s Lane, Libby hustled Jane upstairs into the spare room and went back to put the kettle on. While she waited for it to boil, she called Fran.

‘I’ll be right over,’ said Fran. ‘Don’t let her get away.’

‘Get away? She’s not a criminal, you know!’ Libby poured water into a mug.

‘No,’ said Fran. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

When Libby took up the tea she’d made, Jane was already out for the count in the spare bed. Libby smiled and pulled the curtains across the window. With a bit of luck she would sleep for at least a couple of hours.

Fran arrived half an hour later, and Libby made more tea.

‘She knows,’ said Fran, accepting a mug.

‘Knows about Lena and Andrei, you mean?’ said Libby.

Fran nodded. ‘When I told her about Rosa and Lena and the passport, I realised afterwards she said “lending it to her lover’s homeless, displaced sister just to help her”. I’d said nothing about a “lover”. She already knew.’

‘She’s a bloody good actress, then,’ said Libby. ‘She’s pulled the wool over all our eyes.’

‘But
what
does she know exactly?’ said Fran. ‘She appeared to be completely up front when she told us about the Rosa who worked in Pietro’s café and lived in a bedsit.’

‘But then when you told her about Rosa and Lena, it was obvious she knew about Andrei.’ Libby pursed her lips in thought. ‘And when I told her the body was Andrei, it shook her rigid.’

‘It was also after I’d shown her the passport and told her the story that she began to back off. Before then she’d been happy for us to investigate her aunt and Simon Madderling –’

‘And Peel House,’ cut in Libby. ‘Exactly. Why?’

‘You know what I think,’ said Fran after a moment. ‘I think she probably knew most of it. I think her aunt told her about whatever it was that had happened in the past and about Madderling, and I think she was hoping I could find where whatever it was was hidden.’

‘You mean she didn’t know that?’

‘It’s the only reason she would be happy for me to trail round looking for something, isn’t it?’

‘Or she knew nothing was there, so had nothing to fear.’

Fran looked startled. ‘But if that was the case, why did I feel there
was
something there?’

‘Perhaps she didn’t know it was,’ suggested Libby. ‘Perhaps she didn’t really believe you could see things.’

‘I picked up enough to convince her, then, didn’t I? And do we really believe that a modern young woman, and a reporter at that, wouldn’t have done her own internet research on her aunt and the house to have found out about Madderling? That just didn’t ring true.’

‘I wondered about that at the time,’ said Libby. ‘Two old birds like us found it within hours. She owns the house. She must have seen the deeds.’

‘Of course!’ Fran slapped her forehead. ‘God, I’m dim. Of course she would have, and Simon’s name would have been there. So she knew all along about the Right Club and the fascist connection.’

‘And Aunt Jessica working for MI5.’

‘And we thought we were being so clever,’ said Fran. ‘So we come back to the question, why did she encourage us to go ferreting about?’

‘Not only that,’ said Libby, aggrieved, ‘all that guff about being lonely, and getting us on her side and Terry –’

‘Oh, I think that part of it’s true,’ said Fran. ‘I think she was genuinely lonely and shy. I also think that she met Rosa exactly as she told us, but Rosa probably told her the truth.’

‘Why?’ Libby wrinkled her brow. ‘Are we saying Rosa was sent to look for Jane? And then told her why?’

‘Perhaps Rosa didn’t realise how serious it all was. But she
did
make friends with Jane, and she
did
lie about where she lived – her whole lifestyle, in fact – so it looks as though she was looking for Jane. And she was going to come down here and stay, wasn’t she?’

‘And Jane seemed pleased about that,’ said Libby, ‘yet if Rosa had told her the truth about her lifestyle, say, before she had to leave the country …’ she trailed off. ‘I don’t understand any of this.’

‘And why is she suddenly scared to go back to Peel House?’ said Fran. ‘Yesterday, she wouldn’t come and stay with me, said she couldn’t leave Mrs Finch, which is a bit mad.’

‘But she did go straight back to the hospital,’ said Libby, ‘and she stayed there all night.’

‘But she still would have gone back home at some point,’ said Fran. ‘It was only after you told her about Andrei that she didn’t want to go home.’

‘Do you know,’ said Libby, after a pause while they both thought about the situation, ‘right at the beginning, people were asking if Jane had something to do with it all. The body on the island, I mean. Harry did, didn’t he?’

‘And now it looks as though she did. But I think it must have gone wrong. Because Jane didn’t know who the body was.’

‘You mean it was deliberately left there so she would see it – or get to know about it, anyway?’

‘I think that’s what I mean.’

‘Why?’

‘As a warning?’

Libby frowned. ‘A warning about what?’

‘Well, what’s happened since, I suppose.’

‘Look out, we’re out to get you?’ Libby snorted.

Fran cocked an eyebrow at her friend. ‘I did try and say that Peel House and the body were connected didn’t I? Perhaps my inner workings weren’t quite so off-beam as we thought.’

Libby looked shame-faced. ‘As I thought, you mean.’

‘No, I thought the same. So did Guy. I just haven’t learnt how to manage it yet.’

‘What about your sea moment?’ said Libby suddenly. ‘What was that about?’

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