An Unhallowed Grave (16 page)

"Recognise this, sir?" Heffernan showed the painting to Stoke-Brown.

"Yes. It was taken on Friday. Have you arrested someone?"

"That's right, sir. Young lad. He's confessed to your breakin. Do you mind if we ask a few more questions?"

Stoke-Brown led them through to the sitting room and invited them to sit down. But before they could begin their questions he started to speak. "I've thought about it very carefully and I think it's time I told you the truth about my relationship with Pauline Brent." He leaned forward, his manner frank and sincere. How much of this was real, Wesley wondered, and how much a skilled display of acting? "I met Pauline when I went to see Dr. Jenkins. I had an old rugger injury which needed treatment from time to time and she was very good about getting me appointments. Then I was painting up by Knot Creek. She was walking there. She said it was one of her favourite spots for just being alone and thinking. We met there often and ... She had quite an interest in art: said she'd done some herself at one time."

"Where?"

'1 don't know. There was a lot about Pauline I didn't know. It didn't seem to matter at first, but if you feel someone's holding something back ..." He stopped, examining his paint-stained fingers nervously.

"Go on," Wesley coaxed.

"I had a broken marriage behind me. I told Pauline all about it ... but she never said anything about her past. Yet she seemed keen on commitment... kept hinting at marriage."

"Did you share her feelings?" asked Wesley quietly.

Charles shook his head. "No. I'm not ready for that sort of thing."

"Did you tell her?"

He shrugged. "Why rock the boat? She would have realised eventually."

"What about the photographs?"

"Oh, them. Have you found them?"

"No. Apparently they were in the possession of the boy who's disappeared."

Stoke-Brown seemed uneasy about this. He began to explain. "It's very hard to find anybody willing to be a model, as you can imagine. I told Pauline how keen I was on painting the human form and she volunteered. I took a few snaps to work from but mostly she would come and pose for me here. I was worried when I found they were missing. You know what villages are like. If they got passed around among the local youth or fell into the wrong hands ..." He didn't finish his sentence. Gerry Heffernan knew exactly what he meant.

"Why didn't you tell my officers this before?"

"I don't know. It was stupid of me. One of your officers a charming young lady nearly discovered my paintings of Pauline, so I hid them. I didn't really want to ... to be asked a lot of questions, to come under suspicion. I realise it was stupid now but Pauline's death came as such a shock."

Heffernan sat back in his chair and looked the artist directly in the eye. "Your relationship wasn't well known in the village. Ashamed of her, were you?"

"Well, I didn't want Pauline to get the wrong idea: she was hinting at wedding bells as it was. Then there was my ex-wife. She's a neurotic woman: she slashed my clothes, damaged my car. She even ordered a hearse for me once. If she got an inkling there was someone else in my life, there's no knowing what she might have done."

"Why did you break up?" Wesley asked, curious.

"I felt there was nothing more for me in the marriage. It was sterile, Sergeant. We went through the motions but there was no feeling there. I had to get out..."

"Needed your own space?" asked Heffernan. He had heard all this before.

"That's right."

"So Pauline had to put up with a clandestine affair. Didn't you think she might like to ..."

"As I said, I wasn't ready for commitment. Pauline seemed happy enough with the situation."

"Did she say anything at all about her past?" asked Wesley. "Anything you can remember, however small?"

Charles shook his head.

"Did you ever ask her?" asked Heffernan, coolly.

"Yes. When we first met... but she was good at evading any direct questions."

"Did she seem worried about anything ... or anyone?"

"Now you come to mention it, she did seem distracted,

preoccupied over the past couple of weeks. Of course, I might have been imagining it. Actually, she did say something strange a few days ago. She said there was something she had to sort out before we, er ... made things legal."

"What did you say to that?"

"I told her to slow down ... see how things went. But as I said, I didn't want to rock the boat too much."

"You had a nice, compliant girlfriend who was willing to pose in the raw for you. Why spoil things by telling her your intentions weren't honourable, eh?" said Heffernan with a smirk.

"Precisely, Inspector."

"Where were you on Friday night?" Heffernan asked sharply, the smirk disappearing.

"Pauline normally came to the studio on a Friday and I'd cook a meal. But she said she couldn't see me; she was being very mysterious about it so I, er ... went to visit my ex-wife. I'd been a bit worried about her ... her state of mind. I was there until about eleven thirty then I drove back. That was when I discovered the breakin and phoned the police. A young constable came round who looked as though he was on work experience." He laughed nervously at his joke. "That's all that happened. I'm sorry I can't be more help."

"Will your ex-wife verify this?"

"I should imagine so, yes," Stoke-Brown said with brittle confidence before reciting her address reluctantly. Was the scorned wife so resentful, Wesley wondered, that she might lie to make life awkward for the man who had abandoned her?

"Pauline visited Philip Thewlis on Friday night. Did she mention this at all?"

Stoke-Brown shook his head, genuinely puzzled. "I'd no idea she moved in such exalted circles. Why did she visit him? Do you know?"

"To accuse him of having an affair with his nanny. Do you know anything about it?"

"No ... no, I don't. It's a complete mystery to me. Sorry."

"Apparently her cleaning lady, Mrs. Matherley, is the nanny's grandmother and she told Pauline that she was concerned for the girl's welfare. Did she mention this to you at all?"

"No. She didn't." Stoke-Brown looked unconcerned that she hadn't confided in him.

"It seems Pauline was a bit of a crusader when she thought some injustice was being done."

"Yes. She complained that some yob had nearly killed a child at that new development in Worthy Lane."

"She told you about that?"

"Yes. She said the man had threatened her. I told her not to take it seriously. I've seen the man in question ... all big talk. Pauline seemed very gentle but she had a tough streak, you know. I can quite imagine her tackling even Philip Thewlis if she thought he was abusing some young girl. She seemed to feel strongly about things like that. I wonder..." He paused. Wesley waited in silence for him to speak again. "I wonder if she went too far... got on the wrong side of someone."

"It's certainly a possibility and one that we'll bear in mind." Wesley looked at the inspector, who was studying a painting of the village church propped up against the wall. He looked up at Wesley and gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Well, thank you, sir. We might have to ask you some more questions later on ... and if you remember anything, anything at all that might help us ..."

"Of course. I'd like to see the bastard who did this caught, I really would." He looked Wesley straight in the eye. "She didn't deserve anything like that."

It was Gerry Heffernan who led the way out, anxious to be gone. "What did you make of all that?" he said as soon as they were out of earshot.

"I suppose his story adds up, but I'd still like to know why he didn't come forward sooner to say he was involved with Pauline."

"It's my guess that he was just stringing her along till something better came along. Hardly the reliable type, is he?"

"Maybe he knows we usually treat the husband or boyfriend of the deceased as the prime suspect."

"All the more reason to establish his innocence by coming forward immediately, surely. Do you believe that she wanted to marry him? I would have thought he was the type for a more, er ... artistic arrangement. What do they call it? An open relationship?"

"She obviously didn't realise that. It shows she was naive for her age ... but he is a bit of a charmer. Apparently he asked Rachel to pose for him."

Ill

"Not...?"

"He only mentioned her face, sir."

"Thank goodness for that. We'll have to check his alibi, of course."

"I'll see to it when we get back. Do you mind if we make a detour?"

"Where to?"

"Worthy Court. I want another word with D'estry ... see if he knows anything about this missing lad. And there's a Timothy Wills he's standing in the Bloxham by-election. He was out and about on Friday night, according to his wife. He might have seen something."

The visit to Worthy Court didn't take them far out of their way. Wesley noticed his boss sneaking surreptitious looks at Susan Green's cottage, as though tempted to call. He half expected him to suggest an impromptu bit of questioning, but he seemed content to follow the sergeant through the archway into Worthy Court. A couple of solemn-faced children were playing in the courtyard, some quiet game without a requirement for noise or laughter. Wesley recognised them as Jane Wills's children. He smiled at them and said hello, but they made no answer, merely rewarded him with a serious stare. Wesley went up to D'estry's door and rapped loudly. There was no answer.

"Probably jet-skiing scaring the life out of the local jellyfish," said Heffernan with disapproval.

"He'll wait," said Wesley. "Let's see if Mr. Wills is at home, shall we?"

"You reckon he'll be here?"

"Those are his kids. He might have gone back to London but it's worth a try. I think his parents were down here as well."

"Okay, then. Will you knock or shall I?"

The children watched in silence as Heffernan rapped on the door, loud enough to waken the dead. Jane Wills, still beautiful with her long pre-Raphaelite hair, opened the door looking mildly annoyed. When she recognised Wesley her expression changed to one of expectant co-operation. It would hardly be appropriate for a parliamentary candidate's wife to antagonise the local constabulary.

"Do come in," she said politely after checking that the children were all right. "If you've come to ask me more questions, I'm afraid I can't tell you any more than I did on Saturday."

"Are you staying down for the week?"

"Yes. Then we're returning to London as my husband has a case there. Then we'll be back here for the by-election."

"Is your husband here?"

"He's gone to the constituency office for a meeting. Did you want to see him?"

"Yes. We wanted a quick word ... just a formality, you understand. Have you been down here much recently?"

"Since my husband was adopted as candidate for Bloxham we've been coming down here on and off when his work permits. Of course, if he were to win the by-election, we'd have to get somewhere in Bloxham itself as well. But we'll always keep this place for holidays and weekends."

"Wesley nodded. Mrs. Wills was far friendlier, more forthcoming, than she had been when they had last met. "Do you know many people round here?"

"Not many, I must admit. My parents-in-law have the cottage next door. They're not here at the moment. My motherin-law had to go back to London for a hospital appointment. When we're down we tend to stay here as a family and keep ourselves to ourselves: we don't get to meet many local people," she said without regret.

"Do you know Philip Thewlis?"

"My husband does. Contacts are so important in politics and business."

"Does he visit him up at the Manor?"

"I believe he's there quite often, yes. We don't always come down here with him, you understand. He has so much to do and the children are at school and

"But you're down here most weekends?"

"Yes ... most."

"And you didn't know the dead woman, Pauline Brent? She lived in the cottages opposite."

"No. I didn't know her. As I've said, Sergeant, we stay as a family. We value our time together."

"So your husband doesn't mix with the locals much."

"No. I wouldn't say so."

"But surely, as a prospective MP ..."

"He mixes with the people in his constituency party, of course,

and any people who might be of use to him ..." The open friendliness was beginning to tarnish a little.

"LikeMrThewlis?"

"Yes. People like that."

"Surely he has to go out and meet the people who might vote for him?"

"He goes handshaking in Bloxham. He has no reason to do it here: this isn't in the constituency. He is a busy man, you know."

"And so are we, love," Gerry Heffernan said with finality. "Thanks very much for your time."

"We would like a word with your husband. Just routine," said Wesley.

"If you could ring first..." she said coolly.

"Of course." The two policemen were on the threshold, about to leave, when Wesley turned. "By the way, were you in Stokeworthy when Miss Brent was threatened by Julian D'estry?"

She looked uncomfortable. "I was driving into the courtyard here a couple of weeks ago. I saw D'estry arguing with a woman. His car was slewed across the road and I had to avoid it. Why do you ask?"

"What about your husband? Or your parents-in-law?"

"My in-laws would have been here: they are most weekends. But I'm sure they knew nothing about it. As for my husband, I don't think he was. Is it important?"

"Just looking for witnesses," Wesley said unconvincingly, before thanking her and taking his leave.

"What was all that about, Wcs? You don't think they've got anything to do with it, do you?"

"I don't know, sir. Perhaps it's just prejudice. Perhaps I don't trust politicians." He grinned.

"That's not prejudice, Wcs. That's common sense. Come on, let's get back to the incident room. I've got to ring a man about a vicar."