Nemesis (23 page)

“You’ll be pleased to know we’ve finished here.” He indicated her father’s note, which lay on the table between them. “Is it all right if I take this?”

“Sure.” What did he think she was going to do with it? Frame it?

He produced a small plastic evidence bag from his pocket and, using the clean end of his teaspoon, batted the note into the bag. Evidence bags, specimen bottles? What else did he have hidden away in that coat?

“We already have your fingerprints from last night,” he said, “but if you could go down to the station tomorrow and give a formal statement, I would be most grateful.”

The jovial banter had been replaced by impersonal professionalism. He wanted to be gone. He thought he had all the information he needed and was now happy to discard her. He had made the same mistake as the men before him. He thought he knew her.

“No problem,” she said. If he thought that was the end of the matter he was severely mistaken. She had plans of her own.

She reached for her bag, now sitting on the table, but his hand closed over hers.

“There is one more thing,” he said.
“If you could hand over that diary of Sarah’s?”

She looked him directly in the eye and said, “No.”

“It’s evidence for an on-going enquiry.”

“I can’t.”

He tried a different tactic. “You realise it’s not safe for you to be walking around with it in your possession? You’ve mentioned it in every interview you’ve given to publicise your book. There will be other people who want it. Unlike your father, they might not give you the choice of giving it up before they kill you.”

When she failed to reply he added, “You’re going to lose all credibility, not to mention public sympathy, if you make me get a warrant.”

36

“Why would you lie about something like that?” the DCI asked Natalie, all trace of his former good-humour gone.

“If I could explain from the beginning?”

“I’m counting on it.”

 
“The night Sarah died she met with someone waiting outside the house. I didn’t see his face but Sarah knew him. She threw her arms around him, he picked her up and whirled her around
… ”
Natalie trailed off, lost in the memory.

“What happened then?”

“He took her by the hand and they walked away.”

“In which direction did they go?”

“They walked through the castle gateway and down the hill towards the village.”

The DCI regarded her thoughtfully, as though half-inclined to disbelieve her. “I have never heard this story. Your mother said Sarah’s bed had not been slept in but no one seemed to know exactly when she had left the house.”

“It was about ten o’clock in the evening. It was the night of the Regatta. There had been fireworks. I was watching them through my bedroom window when I saw her leave.”

“Sarah was found at nine in the morning. That’s eleven hours unaccounted for.”

“She went to the funfair. I climbed out of my bedroom window and followed her - then I lost her. Later, I saw her with Alicia
- ”

“Mrs Fitzpatrick gave us a statement at the time. She said your sister had seen you enter the caravan of a fairground worker named Geraint Llewellyn and she was concerned for your safety. Mrs Fitzpatrick never mentioned any other man. Are you sure it wasn’t the same person?”

So Alicia had been the one to land Geraint in it.

“None of us had met Geraint until that night.”

“You followed this other man to the funfair though. You must have seen something of him?”

“I saw him in the distance. He was tall and had short dark hair. That’s all I could see. He could have been anybody.”

“That’s more of a description than we’ve had in fifteen years. Why didn’t you tell someone?”

The unfairness of it stung her into retorting, “No one asked me! You know what my father was like. He hated the police. I thought if I spoke out of turn he would take it out on me.”

“We requested an interview but it was refused on medical grounds.”

She stared at him in astonishment. “I didn’t know this. What medical grounds?”

“Your doctor thought you were too traumatised to give evidence. It would have been flawed.”

Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. “This doctor - would he have been Charles Fitzpatrick?”

He was suddenly wary. “Yes, what of it?”

“It didn’t occur to you there may have been another reason for keeping me silent?”

“He was ‘the doctor’?” The DCI cursed beneath his breath. “I thought the names in this diary were the nicknames Sarah gave her school friends? It never occurred to me that he might have been a real doctor. Fifteen years ago Charles Fitzpatrick would have been in his late twenties. Do you think he killed her?”

“I’ve no idea. There’s no diary. I made it up because I thought it would force the murderer out into the open. But I know all about the men Sarah dated. She told me about them, almost everything about them except for their names. I’m sure one of them was responsible for her death.”

“We interviewed her school friends, her boyfriends
- ”

“Some of these men were older. She used to tell me about them - not their real names unfortunately, just these silly nicknames. She thought she had them dangling on a string. It was a game to her. It made her feel powerful. I don’t think it even occurred to her that she could be in danger.”

“Do you have any idea who these men were?”

“I had my suspicions. When my GP suggested I had counselling to help me deal with Sarah’s death, I asked to be referred to Dr Fitzpatrick’s clinic. I’d already guessed he was one of the men Sarah was seeing. It didn’t take him long to make a move on me. I knew he would, because I looked so much like her. Eventually I got him to admit that he’d had an affair with her. Whether he killed her or not, I have no idea. He was threatening to sue me the last time we spoke.”

The DCI bit off another curse. “OK, tell me about ‘the teacher’?”

“That would be Charles’s younger brother, James Fitzpatrick. He’s now the headmaster at Calahurst Comprehensive School.”

“I know who he is,” the DCI didn’t bother to hide his irritation, “but he was only eighteen at time.”

“He was studying to be a teacher. He certainly had a brief affair with Sarah and made it quite plain he’d like me to carry on where she had left off, even though he was supposedly engaged to Alicia at the time.”

“Just how many men were there?”

“Sarah used to talk about a gardener - presumably one who worked in the castle grounds with our father. I’m not sure which one she meant. She also mentioned a guy who worked at one of the clubs on the quayside, but I don’t think she was serious about either of them. Finally, there was the one she called ‘the librarian’.”

“There is no library in Calahurst, and all the staff at the school library were women.”

“It wasn’t a public library.”

“I need a
name
, Natalie!”

“I assumed she was talking about Sir Henry Vyne. She helped him catalogue his books and papers at the castle during the weekends. A kind of Saturday job, if you like.”

Now she had caught his attention. “Is that all she did?”

She hesitated. “Why? Has someone else has come forward and
- ”

“We have heard certain reports over the years - mainly rumours, gossip, that kind of thing. No one has ever been willing to make a statement, and there is no hard evidence.”

“What kind of reports?”

He did not reply right away, then, “You worked for Sir Henry too, didn’t you?”

Slowly she inclined her head.

“Was it in his library?”

There was no way to avoid the question. “Yes, but I didn’t do much filing. I spent my time naked; he spent his time taking photographs. I didn’t mind too much. He never laid a finger on me and he kept the fire well stoked. It paid for me to go to university. I could never have afforded to go otherwise.”

“You didn’t have sex?”

“Of course not!”
Even the thought of it made her feel sick. “He only took photographs.”

“And that made it all right?”

What right did he have to judge her? “I was young and stupid, what can I say?”

As he stared at her, his expression a mix of distaste and incredulity, his phone rang, making them both jump. Instead of answering it, he scooped it up and slid it back into his pocket, before taking out his wallet and peeling a tenner from the top of a thick wad of notes. He dropped the money onto the table as he got up.

“Is that it?” she asked uncertainly. “Are we done?”

“You’ve sat on this information for fifteen years; it can wait a little bit longer. My advice to you, Miss Grove - and please take this very seriously - is to go home and stay out of trouble. And bump up your security. Something frightened your father enough to make him break cover. I am sure you would agree with me when I say he was not the kind of man to frighten easily.”

Natalie followed the DCI outside. There was a patrol car parked alongside the kerb, but he didn’t offer her a lift. She glanced across the quayside to her apartment block, thinking that at least she didn’t have far to walk, and saw a man standing on the pavement outside. Even at this distance it was easy to recognise Bryn’s dark hair and battered leather jacket.

“Your new boyfriend?” observed DCI Bloom.

“Hardly,” she said, adding without thinking, “I only met him a couple of days ago.”

“Indeed?” The DCI turned his attention back towards her. “In which case, Miss Grove, I suggest you be very, very careful.”

* * *

It took a moment for Bryn to notice her approach. He was pacing alongside the length of the apartment block, checking the route up the hill every time he reached the corner. Natalie was unsure whether to feel touched at his obvious concern, or completely freaked. When he did finally spot her walking along the quay, he hesitated - perhaps unsure of what reaction he was going to get.

“Hi,” she said, stopping in front of him.

“Where have you been?” he asked. “I tried phoning but your mobile is turned off. When there was no reply at your apartment I got worried.”

She thumbed in the direction of Remedy. “I’ve been helping DCI Bloom with his enquiries. How about you? Did you get to make your statement?”

He gave a wry smile. “We were halfway to the police station and an emergency call out came over the radio. I was dumped by the war memorial, with strict instructions to stay away from the castle and, er - you.”

“Yet here you are.”

His smile turned into an all-out grin. “Guess where I’m going next?”

“Aren’t you the slightest bit worried you might get arrested?”

“Are you? My truck is parked around the corner. We could go to the castle together. Call it a date.”

“I’d rather call it a scam - you only want to use me as an excuse to get past the police.”

“I think you underestimate my ingenuity. Besides, I have a contract to work in the castle grounds and I’m staying at the Lodge. They can hardly keep me out.”

The sound of a car engine starting up disrupted the evening’s silence. Natalie turned her head in time to see the lights of the police patrol car disappear from view. Had the DCI been watching her? Or only pausing to return his missed phone call?

Why would you think we were following
you
?

“He had a phone call too,” she said. “I think it was important.”

37

Alicia had no idea how she’d got back to the top of the well. A whole lot faster than when she had climbed down, that was for certain. When she’d finally crawled over the top, practically kissing the grass in her relief to be back on the surface, it was to find Lexi had already called out the emergency services in a panic. Within a matter of minutes a police car, an ambulance and a fire engine were all speeding up the castle drive and Alicia suddenly found she had a lot of explaining to do, not least of all to her mother.

So she sent the children home, promising that she’d join them soon, and then assured Clare that she would take care of everything personally, and that
of course
the police would make good any damage they caused to the newly re-turfed lawn.

Meanwhile the grounds became busy with activity. Huge arc lights were set up to illuminate the garden, and a large tent, which had been pitched on the lawn, soon had a muddy path worn through its entrance. A metal tripod was quickly erected over the top of the well, and a man in a hard hat and harness was now preparing to abseil to the bottom.

And to think, she’d done it wearing old trainers and a length of too-short rope around her waist.

As Alicia watched him descend, the officer-in-charge arrived with a posse. They all wore dark macs and suits, but he was the only one carrying an umbrella. After he’d peered down the well, he swapped the umbrella for a takeaway coffee and disappeared into the tent. With the hood of her coat up against the persistent rain, Alicia felt invisible; even more so when the skeleton was finally brought up, concealed in a body bag.

The rain fell harder. Alicia moved beneath the shelter of the yew trees, further from the action. No grass grew here; the ground was quite dry, almost parched, and thickly covered with dull, red berries, like a sea of blood. Despite her coat she could not stop shivering. Would anyone notice if she left?

Feeling thoroughly fed up, she was about to return to the Old Rectory when she heard footsteps on the gravel path and Natalie emerged from the woods. She had no coat, just a black sweater and jeans, yet the rain didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. Her white-blonde hair was plastered to her head and her make-up had formed panda rings around her eyes. She still looked gorgeous.

“Hey, Alicia!
What’s going on?”

Alicia found she couldn’t speak. Instead she threw her arms around Natalie and hugged her.

Slightly taken aback, Natalie peered down at her. “Are you all right?”

Now she really did feel like crying. Alicia shook her head, fumbling in her pocket for her handkerchief but couldn’t find it. She was about to ask Natalie if she had one, but realised her friend’s attention had been taken by the huge police operation taking place in the centre of the castle lawn. She did not even seem surprised. Had Natalie known they were here?

“Has something happened?” Natalie asked, a little too casually.

There was no reason to lie. “I found a body.
A dead one.”

“Where?”

“At the bottom of the well.”

Which ensured Natalie’s full attention.
“You what?”

“I found a skeleton at the bottom of the well,” Alicia repeated, sincerely wishing she’d left for home when she’d had the opportunity. “It’s a long story. I climbed down the well and there was this skull - grinning at me.”

“You?
You
climbed down the well?”

Why did everyone find that so hard to believe? “It wasn’t difficult. There’s a ladder, of sorts, set into the stone and
- ”

“Bloody hell!”

“Yes, yes, I know. It was a stupid thing to do, I could have been killed - but enough about that. What are you doing here?”

“We were passing and saw the lights
- ”

“We?”

A tall, dark-haired man stepped from the shadow of the ruined chapel. Alicia almost shrieked. Who the hell was this? Certainly he wasn’t Simon - he was several inches, and a lot better looking. Judging from the state of his clothes, he appeared to have been sleeping rough. So did Natalie. What on earth had they been doing?

She waited for Natalie to introduce her and when that failed to happen she politely held out her hand.
“How do you do?
I’m Alicia Fitzpatrick.”

Natalie frowned. “I thought you knew each other?”

The man hesitated.

Although his dark hair and tanned skin hinted at a Mediterranean ancestry, his eyes were the same greenish-gold as a peridot. Definitely not the kind of man one would forget, thought Alicia, and there did seem to be something familiar about him.

“Have we met?” she asked.

He took her hand and shook it. “I’m Bryn
Llewellyn
,” he said, as though that ought to mean something. When she continued to regard him blankly, he added, “My
company
was hired to restore the castle garden?”

Perhaps that was why Natalie thought they knew each other? Didn’t she realise her mother did all the hiring and firing?

“I’m pleased to meet you,” she said politely.

“The body you found? Had it been there for long?”

Alicia noticed his voice was not quite steady and hoped he wasn’t squeamish. The toughest-looking men often were and she really couldn’t be dealing with that kind of thing at the moment.

“There was no flesh on it,” she said bluntly, and saw him flinch, “but I don’t think it was really old. It had fillings. I could see them glinting. Look, are you all right? You’ve gone awfully pale.”

“I’m fine,” he said, although he was staring at the well as though hypnotised. “How did he get down there?”

“He might have fallen but there’s always been a locked gate over the top.”

“Have you spoken to the police? Do they know?”

“I had rather hoped they would want to speak to me. The chap in charge hasn’t even introduced himself. If it hadn’t been for me, he would never have found the wretched skeleton.”

As though she’d summoned him, the flap of the tent was flung back and the man himself came striding out. “You,” he said, pointing at Bryn. “Come here.”

Bryn seemed frozen to the spot. “Who is it?” he asked, his voice so quiet that even Alicia, standing right next to him, had trouble hearing him. “Do you know?”

The officer closed the distance between them, holding up a small plastic bag inches from Bryn’s face.

“We took this from the remains,” he said. “Do you recognise it?”

Alicia craned forward to see what was inside the bag. It appeared to be a thin metallic chain, which may have once been silver, but was now tarnished black. Attached to this was a small Celtic cross.

Beside her, Bryn swayed on his feet. “Yes.” He slipped his fingers beneath the neckline of his plaid shirt and pulled out an identical silver chain with an identical silver cross hanging from it. “It’s his.”

The officer tucked the bag inside his trench coat. “You need to come with us.” He didn’t give Bryn chance to reply, but turned his attention to Alicia. “Are you Mrs Fitzpatrick?”

“Yes, but
- ”

“Legally, the castle belongs to you?”

“Yes, but I don’t see
- ”

“In which case, you need to come too.” Unexpectedly he smiled.
“Purely voluntarily, of course.”

Alicia did not find the smile reassuring. “I can’t leave my children
on their own
for that long. My husband is in London and my mother
- ”

Her mother was not the child-friendly type.

She felt Natalie touch her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Alicia. I’ll check they’re all right.”

This effectively left her without a valid excuse.

“Excellent,” said the officer, as though her compliance was assured.
“If you’d like to follow me, Mrs Fitzpatrick?
We have a car waiting.”

What if she said ‘no’? What would they do? Would they arrest her?

“Mrs Fitzpatrick? This is important. You need to come to the station and answer some questions.”

She forced a smile to her lips and attempted to regain the upper hand. “If you think it would help, then of course I will. Tell the children I won’t be long,” she added to Natalie. “And thank you for offering to look after them.”

“No problem, said Natalie.

Alicia followed the police officer to the waiting patrol car, aware that two more were following behind. There was no sign of Bryn, perhaps he was travelling separately - or was he a suspect?