The Cipher Garden (15 page)

‘Why the Boggle Bar?’ she asked, focusing on the sign above the arch linking the bar with the restaurant.

‘After the story of the Waterside Boggle,’ Bel said. ‘At night a strange creature used to roam by the lake. Some said it resembled a calf, some a dog. Others said it was a beast akin to a donkey. It vanished whenever a passer-by approached, and the only trace of its presence was a sound like a cartload of stones being emptied into Esthwaite Water.’

‘Years ago an old man from Far Sawrey told us it wasn’t a boggle but a barghest,’ Oliver said. ‘A much scarier apparition. The sight of a barghest is supposed to foretell a death.’

Bel flashed a nervous smile and said, ‘You can see why we prefer to call this the Boggle Bar, Chief Inspector. The Barghest Bar would be rather frightening.’

Oliver stroked her hand with long, slender fingers. Charm seeped out of his every pore. And not only was he fanciable, he could cook. No man ought to be so gorgeous. Hannah consoled herself that he wasn’t her type. Good looks and good manners weren’t enough. Though she could hear her friend Terri whispering in her ear: but they’re a bloody good start.

‘Let me organise coffee,’ he said. ‘Plain filter or cappuccino, Chief Inspector?’

As he busied himself with the machine, the women exchanged pleasantries and Hannah asked how long they had been here. Bel explained that Tom Danson, her late husband, had bought The Heights a few years after their marriage. He had his own building company, but sold it on
his fiftieth birthday. His first wife had died of leukaemia ten years earlier and he’d thrown himself into the business as a way of getting over it. They’d met when Bel went to work for the firm as a receptionist and he proposed within a fortnight. She wanted him to ease off and encouraged him to pursue the idle dream he’d had for years, of running a little restaurant out in the countryside.

‘By the time we took over, The Heights had become a place to eat, more than a pub. There’s more money in selling food than beer. We’d been living in Tom’s old house on the outskirts of Grasmere, but it had too many distressing memories of his wife’s illness. I’m so glad I persuaded him to make a fresh start here. We had the old cottage next door pulled down and a new home built. At least we had a little time together here before he took ill. An inoperable brain tumour.’

Guilt knifed Hannah. Life hadn’t always been kind to Bel. It was wrong to begrudge her some fun with a toy boy.

‘It must have been difficult for you.’

‘Yes, we needed help. So I brought in a chef called Jason Goddard.’

Oliver fidgeted at the mention of the name, Bel smiled and stroked his hand. Hannah kept quiet. In the background, Dusty Spingfield wailed that she just didn’t know what to do with herself.

‘Jason introduced an exotic menu. He was desperate for us to get in the Michelin Guide. A delightful young man, but he seemed to believe that to be any good, a chef has to be temperamental. His mood swung like a man on a flying trapeze. What’s more, our customers weren’t keen on the fancy cooking. I was preoccupied with Tom and shortly before he died, Jason recruited Oliver. He said he needed back-up, but there was an ulterior motive.’

‘Jason was gay,’ Oliver explained. ‘I’d grown up in Preston, but I’d come up to the Lakes after leaving college. I didn’t have any ties, or any thought of settling down. As a kid, I’d worked in McDonald’s, a country mile from haute cuisine. I wasn’t ambitious, I never wanted to be a celebrity chef. One morning I called here, looking for casual work. Nothing had been advertised, but I ran into Jason and he gave me a job after a five-minute interview. Not long after Tom died, I discovered why.’

Bel giggled. ‘Jason was an outrageous flirt and he fancied Oliver like mad. Not that I blame him, but it all became very unpleasant. Of course, Oliver wasn’t interested, but Jason hated being turned down, it wasn’t in the script. He walked out on me and all of a sudden Oliver was in charge of the kitchen. I came to lean on Oliver; he was a tower of strength.’

I bet, Hannah said to herself. The two of them were sitting as close as possible to each other on the opposite sofa, thighs and legs touching. They seemed to fit each other to perfection. Easy to understand what Jason and Bel saw in Oliver. The bitchy part of Hannah thought it even easier to understand what Oliver had seen in Bel. You only had to sink into this armchair. It clutched you like a lover. Sheer luxury, sheer hedonism, sheer expense. If you were going to stop drifting, where better to drop anchor?

‘You said in your original statement that you’d known Warren Howe since you were both young.’

‘He was a couple of years older than me, lived a couple of hundred yards away in the cottage covered with Virginia creeper. You must have passed it on your way here. A footballer from Blackburn bought it as a holiday home eighteen months back. Warren was a tearaway, but to an innocent of fourteen, he seemed glamorous and exciting.’
Bel might have been talking to herself as she recalled the past. ‘My parents were strict Methodists, and very
old-fashioned
Methodists at that. They were both close to forty when I was born and life at home was a bit of a
time-warp
. They didn’t approve of the Howes and they’d have had heart failure if they’d realised I was seeing Warren. I’m afraid I told a lot of lies. But our romance only lasted a month, then he took up with Roz.’

‘You must have been devastated.’

‘Oh yes. It was all very traumatic and I took a long time getting over it. Looking back, I suppose I ought to be grateful. He helped me to grow up.’

‘You fell out with Roz when she took your boyfriend away from you?’

Bel smoothed her hair. ‘I didn’t blame her. He decided he wanted her and that was that. I never knew anyone so relentless. For him, it was all about the thrill of the chase. Once Roz succumbed, the only question was how long it would take him to dump her. The answer was six weeks.’

‘Were you surprised when he settled down with Tina Howe?’

‘Depends what you mean by settled down. He liked his home comforts, did Warren, that’s why he got married. And Tina was famous for liking sex almost as much as he did. But it didn’t stop him wandering. Only death did that.’

‘I’m surprised you stayed in touch, after the way he’d treated you.’

‘I didn’t consciously avoid him, if that’s what you mean, Chief Inspector. Why give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply he’d hurt me? Even if I’d tried to steer clear, it would have been pointless in a place as tiny as Old Sawrey. To a teenager it’s as claustrophobic as a prison cell. After leaving school, I found a succession of jobs in Hawkshead
and Ambleside. Office junior, a bit of typing and reception work. Truth to tell, I didn’t know what I wanted. I had a few boyfriends, but no one special. After my parents died, I moved out of the village, decided to start again. Shortly afterwards, I met Tom.’

‘You told the original inquiry team that you saw more of Warren Howe after you and your husband took over The Heights.’

‘He used to drink here. Sometimes the family came for a meal. The last time they ate here was their wedding anniversary, not long before Warren was killed.’

‘You got to know them all?’

‘Tina and I were never going to be best pals, and Sam was always surly, but Kirsty’s sweet. Still is, poor thing.’

‘Warren tried it on with you?’

Bel’s face was a mask. ‘It’s no secret. Nothing to be ashamed of. If Warren met a woman he couldn’t have, he saw it as a challenge.’

‘Yet you turned him down?’

‘Of course. Once bitten, you know? I was happy with Tom. After Tom took ill, I was wrapped up with caring for him. Warren’s flirting was a distraction. A nuisance. I wasn’t flattered, I knew that all he wanted was to get me into bed again. If you’ll excuse the expression, I’d been there and done that. He had nothing to offer me.’

‘Your husband was dying and he was pestering you to sleep with him.’

‘Yes.’

‘And after Tom died?’

‘He had the brass neck to say it would do me good. Take me out of myself.’ Bel kept her eyes on Hannah. ‘I hate to say it, but that’s the sort of man he was. He never took no for an answer.’

‘So how did you deal with that?’

‘How would you deal with it, Chief Inspector? I kept repeating myself, kept on saying no.’

‘And how did he react?’

‘He wasn’t happy. Said I might as well be dead myself.’

‘Not very nice.’

‘That was Warren. He could be cruel.’

‘You were very upset, I presume?’

‘You presume right. But if you’re wondering whether I killed him because of it, the answer is no.’

Hannah turned to Oliver. ‘Were you aware that Warren Howe was making a nuisance of himself?’

He shifted under her gaze. ‘I hardly knew the man. Once Jason left, I had my hands full, trying to make sure that the restaurant kept afloat. To me, Howe was just another customer. A married man with a roving eye. After my experience with Jason, I suppose I was glad it was women he was interested in, but I did feel sorry for Bel.’

‘In case you’re wondering,’ Bel said, her voice steady, ‘there was never anything – personal – between Oliver and me while Tom was alive.’

The coffee was hot and strong. As she sipped it, Hannah wondered if Bel Jenner was telling her the truth. Maybe, maybe not. But what did it matter?

‘Later, when we became a couple, there was gossip,’ Oliver added. ‘Inevitable, I suppose. I overheard people talking behind Bel’s back, saying it was a disgrace that she’d become involved with a younger man when her husband was still warm in his grave. It was so unfair. She’d suffered a lot. I’m not an idiot, I realise people round here still say I was only interested in Bel’s money. But the honest truth is, Bel was all I was interested in.’

Protesting too much? Hannah let it go. ‘Roz was
another of Warren’s former girlfriends and her husband had left home around this time. Did he try his luck with her again?’

Bel said, ‘You’ve talked to her, Chief Inspector, and I think she’s answered your question.’

A quiet, dignified reply. Sometimes this job made you feel uncomfortable, like a voyeur. Or was that, Hannah wondered, part of the appeal of police work, the chance to walk into other people’s lives and nose around their most intimate secrets? She recalled Nick’s phrase about ordeal by innocence.

‘You and she are still very close.’

Bel folded her arms. ‘Lifelong friends. We’ve never had secrets from each other. You know how it is, with your best friend.’

Hannah knew how it was supposed to be, though there was plenty she wouldn’t tell Terri. As for Marc, right now there was also something important she wasn’t telling him.

‘She must have been shocked when her husband disappeared.’

‘It was a terrible time for both of us. Losing the men we loved. At least there was a silver lining. In the end I found Oliver, and Chris came back to Roz.’

‘You’d assumed Chris was dead?’

‘What else could we think? We were afraid he’d committed suicide. He vanished without a word, which seemed so cruel. But he wasn’t himself; you have to see it from his point of view. When he had his breakdown he needed to run away, so he could get his head together.’

‘Ever any doubt that the breakdown was genuine?’

Bel’s lipsticked mouth curved in distaste. ‘Really, Chief Inspector. I’m sure if you check your files, you’ll find that poor Chris was interrogated long and hard when he turned
up. The very idea that he might have killed Warren is absurd. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Besides, he had an alibi.’

Oliver turned to her. ‘Better be careful, darling. Remember, we were never able to come up with watertight alibis for ourselves. If the police run out of other ideas…’

Hannah pulled herself free of the armchair’s seductive caress and sat upright. A bowl of nuts sat on the table and she helped herself to a handful. The interview wasn’t going well; she’d lost the initiative. Instead of making allies of these people, she was fast antagonising them. Time for an olive branch.

‘We worry about people with alibis almost as much as those without. According to your statement, Ms Jenner, you spent most of the day at home next door, sorting through your late husband’s business affairs?’

‘After he died, the last thing I wanted to do was to bother with paperwork, but the solicitors handling the probate were asking for various bits of information. I set aside that day to get to grips with it.’

‘Did you go out?’

‘No. The restaurant was closed that day until six-thirty. During Tom’s illness, and after Jason left, we cut back the opening hours. Bad for business, but money was the least of my worries. I walked over here at half five. Oliver was already hard at work.’

‘You’d moved in by that time, Mr Cox?’

Oliver nodded. ‘There’s a flat upstairs. At present we have a couple of girls over from Croatia for the summer who share it. Jason lived there, but when he left Bel offered it to me in lieu of a pay rise for my extra responsibilities. I’d been holed up in a crummy bedsit in a Coniston back street, not far from Coppermines Valley. The first thing I saw when I woke up each day was a damp stain the shape
of Africa on the wall. Of course, I jumped at the chance to move. On the day of the murder, I popped next door about nine-thirty. To see how Bel was bearing up, I wanted to keep my eye on her after everything she’d been through. I said I’d go into Hawkshead to pick up some food. The rest of the time I spent pottering around this building. No witnesses, I’m afraid.’

‘Is there anything you might have overlooked at the time or forgotten to mention to my colleagues?’ Bel and Oliver shook their heads in unison. ‘When did you first hear about the murder?’

‘Roz rang while she was waiting for the police to arrive,’ Bel said. ‘She’s a strong lady, but she was in a dreadful state. First her husband had disappeared, now she’d found a man cut to the pieces in her own back garden.’

‘You knew Warren Howe was working for her?’

‘She and Chris decided to have the work done and she didn’t want to change the plans. Superstition, I suppose. If she acted as if Chris were dead, she’d somehow make her nightmare come true.’