The Gospel Makers (12 page)

‘Converting her into the bargain?’

‘Almost definitely.’

‘Do they present all their converts with works of art?’

‘Only, I should say, the most generous of them.’

‘Aha! The will rears its ugly head!’

‘Exactly. And thank God the errant solicitor is on his way home. I should know a good deal more by this time tomorrow.’

Chapter 10

Solicitors, lucky beggars, didn’t work on Saturdays, so Soames was calling in at Carrington Street. Having pinned so much on his visit, Webb hoped it wouldn’t be an anti-climax.

He arrived punctually at ten o’clock, a tall, broad-shouldered man in his fifties with black, thinning hair and horn-rimmed spectacles. He came into the room quickly, holding out his hand. ‘Chief Inspector Webb? This is very bad news.’

Jackson, who had gone downstairs to meet him, sat down unobtrusively, his notebook at the ready.

‘Yes, sir. I’m sorry to have interrupted your holiday.’

The solicitor brushed aside such a consideration and took the chair Webb indicated. ‘I hadn’t seen any reports of the case, naturally, or I should have come home sooner. Perhaps you could fill me in.’

Webb did so, swiftly and succinctly.

‘So the poor chap must have died shortly after leaving me?’

Webb nodded. ‘In the circumstances, anything you can tell me about his visit, what you discussed and so on could be of the greatest importance.’

‘I’ll tell you, willingly, though I can’t see how it will help. It was all family business. As you might have heard, Mr Kershaw’s mother, a longstanding client of ours, died a few weeks ago. Mr Kershaw lived in France, and this was the first opportunity we’d had to discuss her affairs.’

‘And her will?’ Webb prompted gently.

The solicitor looked slightly discomfited. ‘Yes, indeed.’

‘I believe Mrs Kershaw was a wealthy woman?’

‘That’s true, Chief Inspector.’ The solicitor shifted awkwardly on his chair. ‘I don’t know if you’ve heard, but unfortunately she and her son had become estranged.’

‘So I gather. Do you know why?’

‘A gambling debt, I believe. Mrs Kershaw had frequently been called on to “bail him out”, as it were, and eventually she put her foot down. Harsh words were said on both sides, and sadly they were never reconciled.’

‘How long ago was this?’

‘Must be ten years now. Tragic.’

‘So she never saw her granddaughter?’

‘Not even her daughter-in-law.’

‘But,’ Webb said gently, ‘he would still expect to inherit his mother’s estate? There was no one else, after all.’ Soames sighed. ‘Yes, he did indeed. In fact, he was counting on it to get him out of some financial difficulties.’

‘What kind of figure are we talking about?’

‘We shan’t know exactly, of course, until the assets and liabilities are ascertained and the tax paid, but at a rough estimate the net estate after tax is likely to be in the order of £250,000.’

Webb whistled softly. ‘And how much went to Mr Kershaw?’

‘Not,’ said the solicitor with deliberation, ‘one penny piece.’

Webb stared at him. ‘He wasn’t mentioned at all?’

‘No. There was a legacy to Miss Margaret Preston, who’d been her housekeeper-companion for some years. But the residuary beneficiary —’ he broke off, cleared his throat, then finished in a rush, as though glad to get it over — ‘is the Church of the Final Revelation.’

There was a long silence. Then Soames said anxiously, ‘I don’t know if you’ve heard of it?’

‘Oh, I’ve heard of it, all right.’ No wonder they could afford to fork out an ivory Ark.

‘I did try to dissuade her,’ Soames went on. ‘Tried very hard, in fact, but she was implacable. Her son was to receive nothing. “He’d get through the lot in six months,” she said.’ Soames sighed again. ‘Pity he had to find out right at the end like that — much better to have gone without knowing.’

‘Just a minute: are you saying Kershaw didn’t know the terms of the will until he saw you?’

‘That’s right. It was stipulated that he must be told in person, together with a homily on the sins of gambling, which I won’t bore you with.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Talk about revenge from beyond the grave.’

‘And what,’ asked Webb with interest, ‘was his reaction?’

‘As you’d imagine. Disbelief, shock, a torrent of abuse about his mother. And, of course, he was determined to contest it. Undue influence, that kind of thing.’

‘Would it have stood up in court?’

‘Only if he could have proved the Church had come between mother and son, which as we know was not the case. Before they came on the scene, she was planning to divide it between other charities.’

‘So what was decided?’

‘Well, as you’ll appreciate, I was in an invidious position. We were, after all, acting for his mother, not him. All I could do was suggest he contact his own solicitors and see what they advised. It was a most uncomfortable half-hour, I can tell you, Chief Inspector.’

‘Do you know who his solicitors were?’

‘I’m afraid not. A London firm, I believe.’

Webb toyed with his pen, tapping first one end of it and then the other on the desk. ‘Were you aware that he’d called at the house?’

‘Yes, he arrived at my office with a bagful of ornaments and trinkets. Felt they should be in safekeeping, he said. Of course, at that point he thought they belonged to him.’

‘Did he say how he was going to spend the rest of the day?’

Soames shook his head. ‘For two pins he’d have gone straight back to France, but his seat was booked on a flight the following day. Pity he didn’t go home, as things turned out.’

‘You knew he was staying at the King’s Head?’

‘He didn’t say so, but it was an obvious choice.’

‘Did he mention contacting anyone else in Shillingham?’

‘Not to me, but I doubt if he knew anyone; he’d not lived here for twenty years.’

‘What time did he leave you?’

‘About twelve-fifteen.’

The solicitor’s office was barely five minutes’ walk from the King’s Head. Kershaw must have gone straight there in need of a stiff drink, no doubt. But when had he arranged that fatal meeting?

‘Presumably you informed the Revelationists of their windfall?’

‘Naturally. And Miss Preston.’

‘Well, thank you for your help, Mr Soames, and for cutting short your holiday. I’ll come back to you if I may, should any other queries arise.’

The solicitor nodded soberly and Jackson saw him downstairs.

‘Quarter of a million smackeroos, Guv!’ he commented on his return.

‘A fair bit of pocket-money there,’ Webb agreed.

‘You’d think she’d have left the poor bloke something.’

‘Yes; I’m not surprised he hit the roof.’

‘So what do we do now?’

‘I think, Ken, it’s time we paid a visit to the Revvies.’

The address of the sect was on the piece of paper Nina had given him. It was Saturday morning — with luck someone would be home.

‘While I think of it, Guv,’ Jackson said as they walked round to the car, ‘Vicky asked me to thank you for her birthday card. It was good of you to remember.’

‘I keep a note of the dates in my diary. How’s young Tim these days?’ The Jacksons’ youngest child, one of twins, was Webb’s godson.

‘Growing apace like the rest of them. Millie was saying you must come round to tea when this lot’s cleared up.’

‘Good of her,’ Webb said noncommittally. Though fond of the Jackson brood, he was not at his ease with young children. Or children of any age, come to that, he reflected morosely — especially young girls who went waltzing off to join weird sects. He was glad that was Hannah’s problem rather than his.

*

No. 5, Victoria Drive was of the same period as Mrs Kershaw’s house, but in a different price bracket. It was nevertheless a handsome enough house, fitting in anonymously with its neighbours so that a casual glance gave no hint of the secrets it contained.

The door was opened by a dark man in an open-necked shirt and jeans. ‘Good morning,’ he said pleasantly.

‘Good morning, sir. Shillingham CID — DCI Webb and Sergeant Jackson.’

Webb fancied the eyes became more guarded, though the smile remained in place. ‘And how can we help you, Chief Inspector?’

‘Perhaps we could have a word? It shouldn’t take long.’

They were shown into a room on the right of the door. It was fitted as a study, with two desks, each bearing a word-processor and printer, two tables, three filing cabinets and a photocopier. Several thousand pounds’ worth of equipment, Webb reckoned in a cursory glance.

Their host turned the chairs round and they sat facing each other in the centre of the room.

‘If I could have your name, sir?’

‘Sorry — Reed, Adam Reed.’

‘And your position in the household?’

Reed smiled slightly. ‘We don’t have positions that you would recognize, Chief Inspector. But if you mean, am I the owner, no. The house belongs to the Church and there are at present eight tenants, of which I am one. If you’ve questions to ask, I suppose I’m as good as anyone.’

‘We’re looking into the death of Mr Philip Kershaw last Monday.’

‘Oh yes, I read about it.’

‘I believe your Church has been named as residuary beneficiary under his mother’s will?’

‘That’s quite correct. A magnificent gift.’

‘Did you know Mrs Kershaw, sir?’

‘Not personally, no.’

‘But several of your — household visited her on a number of occasions?’

‘That’s right. They were glad to do what they could for her.’

‘Goodness reaping its own reward,’ Webb commented drily.

‘As you say.’

‘Were you aware of her son’s existence?’

Reed stood up. ‘Look, if it’s Mrs Kershaw you want to speak about, you’d do better with Lucy. She knew her quite well.’

Webb had been working round to that. ‘Then by all means let us see Lucy.’

The girl who joined them was a little overweight, with a plain but pleasant face.

‘They’re asking about Mrs Kershaw, Luce,’ Reed prompted, after introducing her.

Her smile faded. ‘Oh yes, poor lady. We do miss her.’

Though no doubt the quarter-million would temper their grief, Webb thought caustically. ‘Did she ever mention her son to you?’

‘Only once, and from the way she spoke of him we thought he was dead.’

‘What did she say?’

‘That she wasn’t used to young company since her son had gone. It was a terrific shock when we saw his name in the paper.’

‘You’d no idea of the estrangement?’

‘None whatever.’

Her guileless blue eyes met his, and he could only believe her. Unless she was an uncommonly good actress, which seemed unlikely, she was surely telling the truth.

‘Did she mention that she intended leaving everything to the Church?’

‘She hinted at it, yes. It seemed the answer to our prayers.’ And as yet, they didn’t know the sum involved.

‘But when you learned about her son, did you feel, perhaps, that you’d no right to the money?’

Lucy looked perplexed and turned to Reed, who came to her assistance. ‘By the time we heard about him, he was dead as well. But in any case, the old lady could do as she chose with her own money and if, as you say, her son was estranged, it’s not surprising she acted as she did.’

‘He has a wife and child in France. Don’t you think they have a claim?’

‘That’s not for us to say. We’ve done nothing illegal, Chief Inspector, and you really can’t expect me to agree the money should go elsewhere. After all, we’re in a unique position to use it wisely and well to the maximum benefit.’

‘Doing what?’ Webb challenged him.

‘Saving souls from hell.’ It was said quite matter-of-factly and Webb felt uncomfortable. He himself had an ambivalent relationship with the Almighty, invoking Him in moments of crisis and forgetting Him the rest of the time. Whereas however misguided these Revvies might be, there was no denying their faith was deep and unshakeable. Perhaps that was where their strength — and their menace — lay.

He was tempted to ask about their beliefs, but that wasn’t what he was being paid for. As Nina had said, both Reed and the girl seemed harmless, but with that faith burning inside them there was no knowing what they were capable of when the need arose.

Nodding to Jackson, Webb got to his feet. ‘Thank you for your time,’ he said formally, and felt a certain relief when the outer door closed behind them.

*

They had driven out to the Chantock Hills, parked the car and set off to climb the nearest ridge. Alice was running happily ahead of them, stopping every now and then to pick wild flowers.

Suddenly, feeling the tug of her muscles as the climb steepened and the wind stinging her face, Nina felt a surge of intense happiness. The smell of warm grass, the racing clouds, Alice’s long, windblown hair and — yes — Daniel at her side, had come together in an explosion of joy that made her want to sing aloud.

As though she had actually done so, Daniel turned and smiled at her. ‘Happy?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘Isn’t it a wonderful feeling? I never knew it till I joined the Revelationists.’