The Other Child (49 page)

To her surprise it was Jennifer Brankley who had opened the door to her. Jennifer's face was crumpled and her hair messy. She still looked sleepy.

‘Are you
already
or
still
here?' Valerie had asked.

Strange how she did not manage to suppress a certain aversion to Brankley.

‘Still,' replied Jennifer. ‘Ena wasn't doing well yesterday evening. She couldn't bear the idea of having to sleep here alone. So I called my husband, explained it all to him, and stayed here. Gwen Beckett's coming to pick me up any time now. She just wanted to do a bit of shopping and then give me a lift back to the farm.'

‘Did Mr Gibson come over last night or this morning?'

‘No.'

Ena was pale and sitting at the living room table with a piece of toast spread with butter and marmalade in front of her. She was obviously not feeling able to eat it. ‘Was it him?' That was her first question when she saw Valerie. ‘Did he do it? Did he murder Amy Mills?'

Valerie could not give any useful answer. ‘We don't know. He denies it, and we don't have any firm evidence.'

Ena looked as if she was not sure whether to be happy or sad. ‘So, he might be innocent?'

‘At the moment anything is possible,' replied Valerie. She shook her head when she was offered another cup of coffee, but then sat down opposite Ena.

‘If you are taking the day off today, perhaps you could come to the station at lunchtime. We still have lots of questions.'

Ena nodded apprehensively.

‘Where were you,' asked Valerie, ‘last Saturday night? Can you remember?'

‘Yes. Of course. We were in London. Stan and I were. We left early Saturday morning, and Sunday evening we got back to Scarborough. Stan wanted to introduce me to his parents. Why?'

‘It's about Fiona Barnes, isn't it?' interrupted Jennifer.

Valerie nodded. Her check was a pure formality. Neither she nor Reek believed that Gibson had lied. He was definitely not a suspect for Fiona Barnes's murder.

‘It would be great if you can recall some more details about Mr Gibson, Miss Witty. Anything could be important. His behaviour, things he might have said in passing. Things that sprang out at you … or that didn't. Everything. Don't be afraid of talking about trivialities. Often it's just these things that tell us a lot about a person.'

‘I haven't known him that long,' said Ena quietly.

‘Long enough to want to leave him already,' interjected Jennifer.

Valerie looked at Ena. ‘Is that true? You wanted to leave him?'

‘I … I thought about it, yes. I wasn't sure, but …'

‘Was it related to his … obsession for Amy Mills? Or were there other reasons?'

‘I couldn't bear his domineering nature any more,' said Ena. ‘Everything always had to go the way he wanted it. Always. He was charming and attentive, if you went along with his plans, but he'd quickly get angry if you contradicted him. Then his voice, his facial expression – everything – changed.'

‘Were you afraid of him in those moments?'

Ena hesitated. ‘Not exactly,' she replied finally. ‘But ‘I could imagine that I would be afraid sometime. He seemed to be getting worse. The first time I refused to do what he said – it was about something negligible – he had his reaction under control. The next time he was less able to control it. The next time even less. You know … I wondered where it would all end.'

‘Did you argue a lot?'

Ena pulled a face. She looked depressed. ‘Inspector, I'm not a woman who often says no. That's why I went on the course where I met Gwen Beckett. I had never really learnt to stand up for myself. I think that's why Stan chose me. So: no, we didn't often argue. That's why I was so surprised about how angry he got on those few occasions.'

‘Can you imagine that he could lose control completely? That he might get violent, if a person – a woman – went against his plans and desires?'

I could imagine that,' said Ena.

Valerie nodded. The picture she already had of Stan Gibson was filling out. The pieces fitted together. But none of this brought her a step further as far as evidence went.

She stood up. ‘Thank you, Miss Witty. That was an important point. Please come to the station at two o'clock. And please make a note of everything that occurs to you before then.'

Jennifer accompanied her to the door.

‘Do you think it was him?' she asked.

Valerie would have liked to give a clear yes, but that was impossible given the scarcity of evidence. ‘What I
think
is not important,' she said. ‘What's important is what I can
prove
. And at the moment that's all just hazy.'

‘Goodbye, Inspector,' said Jennifer.

Valerie nodded goodbye. Stepping outside, she noticed Gwen Beckett getting out of a car on the other side of the road. She was wearing a warm anorak and had her standard plait up in a bun this time. She had not seen the policewoman. After a second's hesitation, Valerie crossed the road and went over to her.

‘Good morning, Miss Beckett. You've come to pick up Mrs Brankley, I presume?'

Gwen jumped. ‘Oh … I didn't hear you. Good morning.' As always when someone started talking to her unexpectedly, she went red.

Poor thing, thought Valerie.

‘You're up and about early.'

‘Yes. As you said, I've come to pick up Jennifer. Crazy affair, isn't it? I could scarcely believe it when Colin told me.'

‘I was just upstairs. I think Miss Witty is much more stable now, and she can be left alone.'

‘Good,' said Gwen. She seemed a little undecided. She locked her car and put the key in her handbag. ‘I really did dare to come here by car,' she added, almost apologetically. ‘I don't like to drive, you know, but I really wanted to fetch Jennifer. The bus is so infrequent … And I could do a bit of shopping. Colin lent me his car. I can park better with his than with my dad's.'

‘Is Colin … Mr Brankley on the farm?'

‘Jennifer wanted him to stay with the dogs. She's always worried about them.'

‘She'll see them soon. Listen …' Valerie decided to grasp the opportunity she had. ‘Since I have you here … Did you know Stan Gibson?'

‘More in passing than anything.'

‘How well, exactly?'

Gwen thought about it. ‘Not that well. He worked for the construction company that was doing work at the school, and he always managed to have something to do in front of the room we had our course in. It was pretty obvious he had his eye on Ena. And it didn't take long for the two of them to get together. Sometimes the three of us would walk the same way for a bit after the lesson – I'd head towards the bus stop and Stan and Ena into town. Those were the only occasions I had to get to know him – if you can call that
getting to know him.'

‘What was your impression of him?'

‘He was … well, he was obviously very keen on Ena. He was charming and paid attention to her. He brought her a red rose once when he fetched her. But he was also …'

‘Yes?' prodded Valerie, when Gwen stopped.

‘He was very assertive,' said Gwen. ‘Nice, friendly, but he never let anyone doubt that everything had to go according to his plan. He always had the evening or weekend planned, and he never asked if Ena might want to do something else. You had the feeling that he could react quite strongly, if you contradicted him.'

‘How could you tell?'

‘I don't know … it was just a feeling I had.'

‘Did Ena Witty ever contradict him in your presence?'

‘No. But often she did not seem happy. Once or twice I realised that he was trying to discourage her from continuing on the course. He said it was all rubbish, and why did she want to be more self-confident anyway. He made disparaging remarks along the lines that this stuff would only lead to ridiculous women's libbers … something like that. And he laughed in an almost insulting way when he heard about the role plays from Ena.'

‘Role plays?' asked a confused Valerie.

Gwen wriggled. She seemed embarrassed by the topic. ‘Well, yes … we used to practise difficult situations. Role plays.'

‘And what were considered
difficult
situations in the course?'

‘Situations which … well, everything which people like us have trouble dealing with. Going to a party on your own. Going to a restaurant on your own. Approaching someone. Letting a shop assistant advise you in a shop and in the end not buying anything. That kind of thing. That might seem silly to you but—'

Valerie shook her head. ‘Not at all. On the contrary. You have no idea how often I've bought things I didn't really want, just because I didn't know how to make my excuses to the shop assistant. I think most people have problems like that.'

‘Really?' asked Gwen in surprise.

I've just destroyed her picture of the all-powerful policewoman, thought Valerie. She answered drily, ‘Really. So, Miss Beckett: he made fun of that. He ran down the course, or at least its usefulness. He had no interest in his new girlfriend learning to be a more independent and self-confident person, did he?'

‘No interest at all. That's what I always thought: Stan Gibson wants a submissive woman. He's a man who can't bear to be told no.'

‘Interesting way of putting it,' said Valerie. ‘What do you think he was capable of doing to a woman who rejected him and his advances? In other words, someone who clearly said no to his approaches?'

‘I don't know,' said Gwen. ‘But I'd be afraid of having to say no to him.'

‘I understand,' said Valerie. She held out her hand. ‘Thank you, Miss Beckett. You've been a great help.' She turned to go.

Gwen stopped her. ‘Inspector, is he … I mean … Stan Gibson … did he kill Fiona too?'

It was of course the question which would occur to anyone who knew the whole story.

‘We still don't know if he had anything to do with the crime against Amy Mills,' said Valerie. ‘We really are just starting to investigate Mr Gibson.'

Valerie said goodbye and walked to her car. No sooner had she got in and started the engine than her mobile rang. It was Reek, and his voice had an edge of happy excitement.

‘Inspector, get ready for this – I've got something for you. I've just come from Karen Ward's house. Dave Tanner has got some explaining to do. Ward confirms that they met in the Golden Ball, as we already knew. But listen to this: after that she went home
alone
. And stayed alone. That means there are no witnesses as to Dave Tanner's whereabouts after ten p.m. And it means he's lied again.'

Valerie gasped. ‘Is she reliable?'

‘Yes.'

‘Well, well, well. He's really trying it on!'

‘And he's been calling her again and again since yesterday,' continued Reek. ‘To get her to say the right thing, I suppose. Unfortunately – for him! – she had just decided to make a clean break from him. So she hadn't answered his calls.'

‘I'm just in front of Ena Witty's flat,' said Valerie. ‘I'll be at Tanner's place in five minutes.'

‘Me too,' said Reek and hung up.

6

At first sight the Beckett farm looked almost deserted. Chad's old car was parked by a shed, but no one was to be seen. As Leslie got out of her car, she noticed that the wind, which that morning had been blowing in from the sea, had abated. The day had taken on a strange immobility. Nothing seemed to move. The clouds hung leadenly in the sky.

Dave got out too. He seemed tense. They had gone on a long walk, had sat on the cliffs and smoked cigarettes, had spoken, sometimes even laughed. It was noon by the time they left for Staintondale. In the end Dave himself had pushed for them to get going.

‘I just want to get out of this whole thing,' he had said. I want to sort it out, finally.'

Suddenly it seemed that he could not wait to get rid of Gwen, to free himself from his web of lies.

‘It doesn't look like anyone is at home,' said Leslie. ‘The Brankleys' car isn't there, in any case.'

They went over to the house and knocked. They could not hear anyone move inside, so Leslie put her hand firmly on the door handle. The door was not locked.

‘Hello?' she called out.

A shadow appeared in the kitchen door opposite – a large, stooped man who had trouble walking. Chad Beckett.

‘Leslie?' he asked.

‘Yes, it's me. And Dave. Is Gwen home?'

‘Drove off this mornin' to pick up Jennifer. An' she wanted t' do some shoppin'. Probably two of them 'ave gone somewhere to eat. No idea.' His gaze fastened onto his almost-son-in-law, who had popped up behind Leslie. ‘Day, Tanner. Police were 'ere askin' after you.'

‘When?' asked Dave in irritation.

‘Two hours ago, perhaps. Don't know what they wanted.'

‘I'll get in touch with them,' said Dave. ‘But first I'd like to talk to Gwen.'

‘You'll 'ave to be patient.'

‘Why is Gwen picking Jennifer up? And where?' asked Leslie.

Chad's brow knitted. ‘Jennifer went t' police yesterday, with a friend of Gwen's, if I ‘eard rightly. Seems the lass's boyfriend ‘ad summat to do with t' murder of that student back in July. The lass found out and turned to Jennifer.'

Dave and Leslie stared at him. ‘What?'

It was clear that Chad was not particularly interested in the story and had probably not been listening carefully enough to know many details. ‘Ask Jennifer yourselves. She'll tell you better than me. I just know what Colin told me after she called. She stayed t' night with Gwen's friend. Apparently she were near to breakin' down, couldn't be left alone. Anyroad, Gwen wanted to fetch ‘er today.'

‘I can't believe it,' said Leslie in shock.