Meredith said nothing. She was thinking furiously. Ted was watching her in an amused way, as if waiting for her to come up with the answer. Seeking inspiration, Meredith stared at the collection of pictures on the walls. It struck her that there was something familiar about them and she began to take a closer look, all the while aware of Ted’s amused yet chilling gaze. Yes, that was surely the wide sweep of the beach at Polzeath and that was Stepper Point across the estuary. Those were the ruins of Arthur’s castle at Tintagel. That was the tiny habour at Padstow crammed with boats of all kinds. It all began to click into place.
‘Ted,’ she said at last, slowly. ‘That’s the abbreviation for Edward. But some people might use it as an abbreviation for Edmund, a less popular name. Was Pritchard your stepfather’s name?’
He nodded delightedly. ‘That’s it! I knew you’d work it out. My mother married old Dougie Pritchard and we left Cornwall, went off to live in Dorset first of all, then Kent, and eventually we finished up living in Lewisham, outskirts of London.’
‘You lost your Cornish accent along the way,’ Meredith observed. ‘But you kept in touch with George Melhuish?’
‘Oh, he was my best mate at school, was George, pretty well the only friend I had.Yes, we’ve kept in touch all these years, just the odd letter, you know, Christmas card, that sort of thing. George has always said, I ought to go back home, as he calls it, and go into business with him in the garage line. But my stepfather, he was a carpenter, and I followed him into that trade.’
‘Where did you meet Steve Poole?’ Meredith had no idea what she was going to do about this situation but it made sense to keep him talking. At the moment he was prepared to chat. He wanted to find out what she knew. After that he’d kill her. He’d killed Fiona and Darren and after a while, she supposed, it became almost an automatic reaction to a problem. There was no doubt she wasn’t to be allowed to walk out of here alive.
‘Prison,’ said Ted casually. ‘Well, not proper prison, it was a young offenders’ institution. They were very keen on teaching you a trade there and I was already by way of being a carpenter, seeing as I’d been working with my stepdad. So I enrolled on the course to get a certificate to my name. Steve, he was on the same course. Like me, he was in the institution because of a spot of burglary. We decided, when we got out, we’d go into business.’
‘But Ted!’ Meredith couldn’t help exclaiming. ‘What you’re telling me is a success story. Both you and Steve got into some sort of trouble as boys, but you got out of it, started a proper legitimate business. Why would you do anything to endanger that?’
‘Ah,’ said Ted, pointing the glittering tip of the screwdriver at her. ‘I’m not going to let you endanger it, that’s for sure.’
For one awful moment she believed he was going to lunge at her with it, there and then, and to distract him she blurted, ‘You always had a bike, didn’t you? Eileen Hammond said you had a bike.’
Ted looked surprised and then gave her a nod of approval. ‘So you found Miss Hammond, did you? I’m surprised she’s still around. She must be over eighty.Yes, I had a bike, rusty old thing. The other kids laughed themselves sick at me over it. But when Dougie married my mum, he bought me a proper new bike. He wanted to get me on his side, see? He didn’t want me making any trouble because he could see me and my mum, we were close. He was an oldish chap already, Dougie, and he’d married my mum because he wanted someone to cook and clean for him. She knew that. She reckoned it was a fair enough deal.’
‘Is your mother still alive?’
This was an unwise question. Ted’s cheery expression faded and was replaced by a scowl. Now Meredith could see the sullen child described by Alison Jenner. ‘She’s alive. We’ll leave her out of this.’
‘You wrote those letters to Alison,’ Meredith said.
Ted looked aggrieved. ‘I printed them out on our computer in
the office back at Rusticity. But I didn’t make up the words. She told me what to say.’
Meredith’s spine tingled. ‘Fiona Jenner?’
He nodded. ‘See, I recognized Miss Harris straight away when she came to the workshop about the garden table and chairs. She was Mrs Jenner now, living in that big house, lots of money. But I knew she was old Miss Kemp’s niece, Alison. She hadn’t changed, looked much the same. She’d always known how to find someone with money to look after her. She used to come down and visit her auntie and more often than not, every time she did, the old lady would give her some money or agree to pay for something for her. My mum told me so. My mum reckoned it was shocking, the way Alison used Miss Kemp.’
‘So where did Fiona come into it?’
‘I went up to the house, delivering that garden furniture they’d ordered from us. Nice set of furniture, that.’
‘Yes, it is,’ Meredith agreed. ‘That’s why I want to order some like it.’
Ted’s eyes glowed with suppressed mirth. He didn’t intend Meredith to be ordering anything. Meredith was to be, what? Buried under the floor of the ruined part of this cottage and a new concrete floor laid over her? That, thought Meredith, is what I’d do, if I were Ted.
‘She was there, was Fiona. I chatted to her, friendly like. But she was a real stuck-up piece. Thought I was nothing, just a workman. So, to take her down a peg or two, I said I knew something about her stepmother that none of the Jenners would want revealed. I was fairly sure Fiona wouldn’t have heard about it already. For all I knew, old Jenner himself hadn’t. It was something Alison would want kept quiet. Her husband was a rich man. They’d got posh friends and Alison was enjoying swanking around playing lady of the manor. “What?” says Fiona, all hoity-toity, but dead curious. So I told her. “Your stepmum got away with murder.”You know what?’ Ted sounded bemused.‘She didn’t react at all the way I thought she would. She didn’t turn a hair. I
had to admire her for it. She just asked how I knew and how could I be sure? So I told her and she was tickled pink.’
Ted paused and reflected. ‘She didn’t like Alison, see? So she, Fiona, she says to me that, for a joke, we’d send the letters. She’d tell me what to say and I’d print them out. She liked a joke, Fiona. That’s why I put in her the lake, smashed her head first, just like old Miss Kemp. I thought, if Fiona could see me do it, she’d appreciate the joke.’ Ted smiled but it wasn’t his normal cheerful grin. His eyes were cold.
‘But,’ whispered Meredith. ‘Alison has always believed Miss Kemp’s death was an accident. The police were wrong.’
‘It was meant to look like an accident!’ snapped Ted. ‘That bloody interfering copper with the double-barrelled name …’
‘Barnes-Wakefield?’
‘That’s him: Ted nodded. ‘Mum said he’d think it was an accident.’
‘Your mother killed Miss Kemp?’ Meredith forgot that mentioning Mrs Travis wasn’t wise.
‘Of course she didn’t!’ Ted shouted furiously at her. He leaned forwards and jabbed the screwdriver at her face.
It grazed her cheek as she threw herself to one side. ‘There wasn’t anyone else!’ she gasped.
Ted chuckled. It was an unexpected sound and it chilled Meredith’s blood. ‘Wasn’t there, eh?’
There was a moment’s frozen silence as the words hung in the stuffy air.
‘You …?’ she gasped. ‘But you were a ten-year-old boy …’
‘I was a ten-year-old boy who had to go to school all winter in wellington boots because my mum hadn’t the money to buy me leather shoes. Miss Kemp, she never gave my mum a bit of extra money so that she could buy me proper clothes, did she? She had money, too, more than an old woman like her needed. Do you know how she made it, her money? She ran an agency in London that found domestic staff for people. That’s how she always treated my mother. A servant, that’s what she was. Do this, do that!
That’s all Mum heard from Miss Kemp. Never a “thank you” or a “would you mind?”
‘And that old bike I had to ride! I found that bike in a skip. Someone had thrown it out, it was that rubbishy. But I got it out and cleaned it up. The other kids laughed at me because of it, and because of the wellington boots and all the rest of it! You know what being poor is?’ Ted’s eyes glowed. ‘No, of course you don’t. I’ll tell you. It means everyone despises you, even snotty-nosed school kids.’
There was blood trickling down Meredith’s cheek. She could feel it but she dared not put up her hand to wipe it away.
‘What happened?’ She had only minutes now to get out of here now. How?
Ted shrugged. ‘I didn’t mean it. You could say it was a sort of accident. It was Sunday. I was fed up with hanging round the house and went out just walking. I was by Miss Kemp’s cottage and I saw Alison drive off in her nice car, going back to London. Then the old lady came out and began pottering around her garden. She liked her garden. She’d left the door open. I thought, no one’s there. Mum didn’t work there on a Sunday, see? I could slip in and see if Miss Kemp had any money lying about anywhere. It was because of the bike. I wanted to buy a proper bike and I was saving up. I thought, I bet Miss Kemp has agreed to give Alison some more money to buy things in London. It’s only right I should have some, too. If she wouldn’t give it to me, mean old biddy, I’d take it. I slipped in and started looking round. Some people had stopped outside the cottage and were talking to her, a pair of cyclists, it was. I saw them from the window, so I reckoned I was safe. I was looking in a desk drawer when she came back in and caught me at it. I was terrified. I was only ten years old and I didn’t think. I just grabbed a paperweight on the desk and jumped at her, striking out. She was very old, frail. She went down like a ninepin and lay there, not moving. I ran home and told Mum. She came running to Miss Kemp’s cottage. She said Miss Kemp was dead. We’d make it look like an accident. We’d put her in the
pond and they’d think she’d drowned. So we did that. It was awkward carrying her. She was only little and thin but she weighed more than you’d have expected. That’s what they mean when they talk about dead weight. It was the same when I moved Fiona but I had the car that time. Mum cleaned off the paperweight and put it back on the desk because she said it might be missed. Then we went home.
‘But that old Barnes-Wakefield, he wouldn’t have it was an accident. He said there was no water in Miss Kemp’s lungs. He couldn’t see anything by the pond she’d hit her head on so he couldn’t explain the wound. He reckoned it was murder and Mum and me, we were scared stiff. So, we had to give him a murderer, didn’t we? Mum told him it must be Alison. He listened to Mum.’
‘Yes,’ Meredith said. ‘He did. He still believes Alison killed Miss Kemp:
‘Yes, we made a good job of it’ Ted stood up. ‘I always make a good job of things.’
Now … thought Meredith. He’s going to kill me now.
‘I can’t go driving all over the countryside on the off chance I’ll see him!’ Markby said crossly.
Steve Poole stared at him. ‘You want him that urgent, do you?’ He squinted suspiciously at Markby and Jess. ‘What’s he done?’
‘Should he have done anything?’ Jess asked.
‘No, we got a good business here.’ Steve looked round him and his expression grew anxious. ‘We’ve got a good business,’ he went on, sounding worried. ‘He’d better not have bloody screwed it up!’
‘Has he been in trouble before?’ Markby asked.
Steve’s gaze swivelled back to him. ‘Well,’ he said reluctantly. ‘Not for years. He and I, we both got into a bit of trouble when we were kids. Pinching things, you know, just casual, from unlocked cars mostly. Or we’d watch for people leaving a door open and nip in and just grab what was to hand. We both got sent to one of
those young offender places. That’s where we met. But we set up the business when we got out and we’ve gone straight since. Never even fiddled the books.’ He sounded aggrieved.
‘You can’t give me any better information about where he might be?’ Markby snapped. ‘Come on, think, man!’
‘Well,’ Steve stared miserably at him and then at Jess before returning his gaze to his chief tormentor. ‘To get the bike, he’d have to go home first. He took the van. He’ll take the bike back to his house when he’s finished, pick up the van and come back to work. So you could go to his place. If the van’s still there, that means he’s not come back yet and all you’d have to do is wait for him.’
‘Right!’ Markby said. ‘You listen to me. You are not to contact him the moment we leave, understand? I don’t want him to know we’re on our way.’
‘He’s got no telephone at his place,’ Steve said defensively. ‘Right dump, it is. Part of it’s falling down. He hasn’t even got electricity.’
‘I expect he’s got a mobile phone. I don’t want you using that.’
Poole was shaking his head again. ‘He lost his. Although, the other day, I saw he had a new one. Not that I’ve ever seen him using it. He leaves it in the office.’ He grinned briefly.
‘What’s funny?’ Jess asked him.
Poole shrugged. ‘Nothing. Just that it’s a fancy thing, not like you’d expect him to have at all. It’s got flowers on it. I joked about it when I asked him for the number. He wouldn’t give me the number. He said it was one of those phones where you prepay for calls and all the credit was used.’
‘Show me!’ Jess was already moving towards the boarded-off area which marked Rusticity’s office.