Murder in Abbot's Folly (10 page)

‘A great chap if you kept on his right side; if you didn't, there was hell to pay, especially if he was drunk.'

‘Barmen don't usually drink much.'

‘Max didn't. Not while the pub was open. But afterwards he went at it like a man possessed, effing and blinding about what great things he was going to do with the Edgar Arms. He had ideas above his station, did Max Tanner, and eyes bigger than his bank balance. He was going to convert the old Assembly Rooms for private hire, Jane Austen weekends, posh hotel restaurant and goodness knows what. Looking forward to that, I was, but it never happened. Never had the cash.'

‘Was the drink problem the reason his licence was taken away?'

‘Not really. After-hours drinking got him. He said he'd closed the bar, but someone – he reckoned it was a pal of Mr Robert's – grassed on him.'

‘What about his family? Did he have children?'

‘A couple, boy and a girl, and Mrs Tanner, she was devoted to him – until they fell out over Amelia Luckhurst. Then the trial came and that was that. Divorce.'

‘Was it Mrs Tanner who was the Jane Austen fan?'

‘No. She went along with it, but it was Max did the running. Doubt if he ever read the novels though. Just saw a path to fame there. Why do you want to know that?' Barbara looked suspicious.

‘Only because the Clackingtons said they bought the pub for its Austen connections.'

‘Mrs Clackington lives in cloud cuckoo land, unlike Mrs Fancy Herself Luckhurst, who made a pile when she sold Stourdens to the Fettises on the strength of Jane Austen even though the house was falling down.'

‘Are you still in touch with Mrs Luckhurst?' Georgia asked hopefully.

A snort. ‘What, her? No way.' A glimmer of humour. ‘I don't reckon she'd bother to keep up with the likes of a barmaid.' A pause. ‘But I know where she lives if that's what you're after.'

Amelia Luckhurst had agreed to see them on the following Monday, albeit reluctantly. Georgia supposed this was not surprising, as she had remarried and was living in Putney. The past must seem very far behind her.

‘Shall we both go?' Peter had asked.

‘Yes.' Amelia was so central to their case that it would be sensible for both to meet her.

As soon as Amelia opened the door, Georgia recognized her, despite the fact that she was now wearing jeans and a shirt-top and not Regency dress. ‘We met,' she exclaimed. ‘In the food queue at Stourdens.'

‘Did we?' A split-second pause. ‘Of course. I remember now. Though it's not the first thing I connect to that day.'

Polite put-down, Georgia thought ruefully. Bob Luckhurst had been a reclusive non-aggressive man who had stepped out of his normal pattern and ruffled feathers. But he'd been murdered, and there was a big gap between the two facts. She wasn't at all sure that his widow was going to be able to fill it for them. She must, after all, have been a suspect at the time of the murder, even if Mike had not mentioned that to them.

‘I didn't see your name on the police list of Gala attendees,' Peter said as she led them round the side of the house into the garden. It was a small modern garden designed to within an inch of its life, as if waiting for the next Sunday magazine to spot it. ‘But then I was looking for Luckhurst on the list, not Collier,' he added.

‘Why look at all?' Amelia retorted. Not rudely, Georgia thought, merely cool. This lady would not suffer fools gladly.

‘I thought you might be there because of your former association with Stourdens, and I wanted to meet you both for that reason and because you must have known Laura Fettis,' Peter replied mildly.

‘I did, if you call selling someone a house a basis for knowing them.' Then Amelia relented. ‘Forgive me, I'm rather prickly on the subject of Stourdens. I gave in to the temptation to see what was going on at the old place. Too many recollections though. I was pretty shaken by what happened, so I escaped from the horror as soon as I could. That must have been before the police imprisoned everyone in the grounds.'

‘It must have brought back your former husband's murder,' Peter said sympathetically.

‘Believe me, it did. That seems foolish since that was a long time ago, and I've been married to John for yonks. But I really needed that quick getaway last Saturday. The last thing I wanted to do was talk again to the police about Bob's murder, if the subject came up. So if I sound unwelcoming that's for the same reason. Question though: I can't see why on earth you want to nose into Bob's death now.'

‘I don't want to distress you—'

‘Distress?' Amelia gave a bark of laughter. ‘I couldn't stand him by that time. That was why it was such a strain. We'd have divorced if it hadn't been rendered unnecessary.'

‘We got the impression he was usually a quiet, mild man.'

‘He was. Didn't stick his neck out anywhere. That was the trouble. Retired early, no pension, but wouldn't make use of the one asset he had: Stourdens.'

‘Max Tanner always protested his innocence. Rightly, do you think?' Peter asked – deliberately naively, Georgia suspected.

‘Of course he'd say he didn't do it,' she replied briskly. ‘He was a dreamer. He'd do anything to link up with Stourdens and live in the reflected glory of Jane Austen, and being a murderer didn't fit that image. As far as I recall, Bob found two or three letters concealed in a painting Max owned, and Max got grand ideas about how to use them and how Bob could help. No chance there.'

Letters? Georgia pricked up her ears. Were they part of the Clackingtons' ‘modest contribution'?

‘So you don't think there was
any
doubt that he'd killed your husband?' Peter asked again.

‘I do not. Guilty as hell. He had threatened Bob on several occasions, but my husband chose to take no notice, and that was the result.'

‘Threatened him over what? The licence?'

‘Partly. Tanner was an ambitious man and hated playing second fiddle to his wife when she had to take it over. He resented it and blamed Bob. The other reason, as I said, was that Bob was reluctant to let the world know about the Stourdens Austen collection. Max was full of plans to upgrade the Edgar Arms, but they depended on our cooperation. They couldn't do it alone. Bob wouldn't budge. I think Max saw a kind of literary trail – lunch at the Edgar Arms, and tour and entertainment of some sort at Stourdens. He became fairly manic about it and wouldn't take no for an answer. Something must have tipped him over the edge that day. I saw him drive up that morning and fondly hoped that with the other classic car owners about to descend on us, he meant no harm. I was wrong. He knew about the planned protest march and decided to use that as a cover to kill Robert and cast the blame on Tom Miller who was leading the march.'

‘What did he hope to achieve by Bob's death?'

‘Knowing Max, I doubt if he thought that far. Or perhaps the idiot thought he could persuade me to help.'

‘Were you at the Folly when all this was going on?'

‘No way. I stayed with the classic cars and directed the march to the folly to present its petition. I thought that would scotch any plans Max had, but I was wrong.'

‘Petition?'

‘Yes, signed by virtually the whole of Dunham. It was meant to be a peaceful protest though. I stayed inside the main house seeing to the nibbles and drinks and so on – and if you're interested –' she grinned – ‘I stayed there well after twelve fifteen. Bob was killed about twelve thirty, and I couldn't have sprinted along the path in time. Happy with that?'

‘Thank you,' Peter said, on his best behaviour. ‘Have you seen Tanner since his release?'

‘No, and before you ask, I am perfectly well aware of the rumours of an affair between us. I can only say that it was another figment of that man's overactive imagination. He began the rumours himself. He saw himself as lord of the manor even if it wasn't true.'

‘Were you as devoted to the Jane Austen collection as Bob was?' Georgia asked.

‘No. I indulged him in it though. It seemed a harmless hobby.'

‘Yet he never wanted to exploit it, with or without Max Tanner?'

‘There you have it. Exploit. Bob liked the thrill of ownership, to know that he alone knew about Jane Austen's love life. You've been told about that, I'm sure.'

‘Only a little, until the Fettises are willing to talk about it. Your husband seems to have been the sort of man to hug the collection to himself, not share it. Would you agree?'

Amelia looked at him quizzically. ‘I imagine what you really want to know is what sort of man Bob was. I take it you never met him?'

‘I remember hearing about him, and I think I saw him at community events once or twice, but our paths never crossed more specifically.'

‘I don't remember you either, so that's fair enough.' Amelia considered. ‘Difficult to describe a relationship so far in the past. It ought to give you a different perspective, but somehow it just seems to smooth things out and blur the pertinent points. But so far as I recall, here goes. Bob wasn't an extrovert, he wasn't a mixer, although he liked talking about Jane Austen with enthusiasts, and he liked talking about cars with enthusiasts. He wasn't a womanizer – as far as I know, anyway.'

‘Did you share any of his interests – cars for instance?' Georgia asked.

‘None. I just let him lead his own life. I had my own car, and I ran a travel business for a long while, then opened an antiques shop.'

‘From what you say you were in favour of developing Stourdens too,' Peter said.

‘True enough, although developing tourism wasn't so much of a fashion then as it is now. The most I got Bob to agree on was to open the gardens for an annual fête – not a Jane Austen fête, incidentally.'

‘The Fettises seem to be very enthusiastic about developing it.'

Amelia chuckled. ‘I know. Laura got in touch with me some time ago about the Gala. I suppose I should confess that as a result I went to see Laura at Stourdens on the Wednesday before it took place.'

‘At her request?' Georgia asked. Perhaps at last she and Peter might get some idea of what Laura had intended to announce.

‘Yes. Laura was upset and said she'd asked to see me because of all people I would be able to understand. Naturally, that fed my ego. She said there were great plans ahead for Stourdens using the collection, but she was beginning to have cold feet. Would commercialization be the wrong thing to do in Jane Austen's interests? Jane Austen had plenty of exposure, anyway, with the wonderful societies and films and documentaries devoted to her, so it seemed wrong to exploit her for their own financial interests.'

Peter whistled. ‘That must have thrown a spanner in the works.'

‘Not at all. I think Laura just needed persuading that she was doing the right thing. She seemed happy enough when I left.'

‘So why did she look so upset three days later?'

‘I really don't know,' Amelia said blandly. ‘A family matter, perhaps?'

SIX

‘
A
ny news from Dora and Gerald?' Georgia asked hopefully when she arrived at the office on Tuesday morning. She could tell from Peter's expression that there probably wasn't. The Clackingtons had promised to let them know if they had any information about the funeral or if the Fettises had contacted them over their future plans for Stourdens.

‘Not a word, and nothing from Mike either. He said he'd tell me when the crime scene was lifted. It's been over a week now – it can't be taking that long. Meanwhile, the Bat and Trap awaits us.'

‘The what?' Then she remembered passing it in the car. It was the Dunham pub, named after the old Kentish game played with a racquet and a ball lodged in a trap at one end of a see-saw. ‘Why on earth are we going there?'

‘Because a disagreeable-sounding gentleman by the name of Tom Miller declares that's the only place he can be found most of the time. Just as in 1985, it seems he's still a protester.'

‘Or petition presenter.'

‘According to one's point of view,' Peter conceded. ‘I wonder how he sees himself nowadays?'

So did Georgia. He sounded an awkward cuss, and Peter might get more out of him than she would. ‘Do you want me there or is it a man-only event?' she asked.

Peter considered for an untactful length of time. ‘I need you there,' he finally said. ‘I told him I'd go today, and I don't want to find myself surrounded by a group of Millerites all eyeing me to work out my evil intentions.'

‘So my job is to fend off aggressive cronies,' she said resignedly.

‘Plus pick up interesting crumbs.'

Georgia laughed. ‘Understood. You're definitely seeing the Luckhurst case as one for us?'

Peter was cagey. ‘Aren't you?'

Her turn to consider her answer carefully. ‘Meeting Barbara and Amelia hasn't brought us a clear way forward – isn't that a worry, in case there might not be one? We've no lead at all on Max Tanner's current whereabouts – and even if we had, nobody so far seems to be convinced of his innocence except himself. The victim is squarely in our sights, but I don't feel I
know
Bob Luckhurst sufficiently for that alone to give us an incentive.'

‘Explain, please.'

‘His wife couldn't stand him, although Barbara thought he was nice enough. At least Amelia was honest, but it might have been a biased view, not least because he might have been blocking her plans rather more forcefully than she implied. On the other hand, if she hated him enough for murder, she wouldn't have admitted even dislike to us. He'd have changed into her favourite person.'