Twisted (46 page)

As Deirdre was about to leave the room she decided to take a few of Amy’s school exercise books to examine more closely. She stepped onto the landing and saw Agnes leaving the guest bedroom with a white bin bag.

‘Oh, I don’t think you should have been in Amy’s room!’ the housekeeper said tersely.

‘I just wanted to see it for myself, Agnes, that’s all.’

Agnes moved closer, glancing round to make sure she was not overheard.

‘I was just outside the sitting room when the detective was here and I overheard him saying that Mr Fulford’s friend died of AIDS; next minute he rushed out of the room and went upstairs, and she followed him. I was about to ask if they wanted a cup of coffee and I was outside the room when I heard them having a right argument, and what I gathered, right or wrong I’m not sure, was she accused him of being one.’

‘One what?’ Deirdre said, stepping slightly back as Agnes was so close.

‘A homosexual – I wouldn’t be surprised because she treats him like a child, buying all these clothes for him. I’ve seen the prices left in the boutique bags – money no object.’

Deirdre found Agnes objectionable and the thought of her creeping around eavesdropping on private conversations disgusted her. Nevertheless she had been snooping herself, even if to her mind she had good reason as she was there to help the Fulfords. She felt a little guilty even so.

‘I wouldn’t repeat that to anyone, Agnes, and if you’ll excuse me I’ll be in the TV room.’

Yet again Agnes followed close on her heels, carrying the rubbish bag and at the same time using the ever-present duster to give a quick polish to the banisters.

Deirdre closed the door to the TV room and sat perched between the plumped-up cushions to leaf through Amy’s schoolbooks, growing even more impressed by her intellect and her neat meticulous handwriting. She selected the most recent, noting the date would be a week or so before she disappeared. It was a complicated and very detailed essay on Mary Shelley’s life and works and how Shelley’s own experiences and fears were reflected in her novel
Frankenstein
. The account of her friendship with Byron was threaded through with descriptions of their villa and the tragic death of Shelley. She had even drawn the removal of his heart. In the margin she had written in neat print her desire to go to Italy and visit these places. Also written in red ink were the school term dates and the suggestion of making a research trip. There were details of flights and costs plus possible hotel expenses. Underlined was the name Miss Polka and the hope was expressed that she would accompany her. She had gone so far as to note her bank balance, and the fact that she had more than enough funds to pay for both of them. In fact if the amount was true she had more in her bank account than Deirdre had ever had saved in her entire life.

Deirdre did not know of Miss Polka or her relationship with Amy, but what she did find of interest was that there appeared no sign that this was written by a girl purportedly suffering from DID. Furthermore, as the entries had been made so close to the time of Amy’s disappearance, could the police have missed a vital possibility that, far from anything untoward happening to her, she had simply arranged to fly to Italy? Deirdre physically jumped when the door opened and Agnes announced she was leaving for the evening. She was already wearing her coat and carrying a shopping bag.

‘Yes of course.’

‘I’ve left out a selection of salads and cold cuts and, if you want a jacket potato, I’d use the Aga as it always crisps up the skins.’

‘Thank you, I’ll maybe just have the salad.’

‘Well she likes jacket potatoes. I went up and knocked but she won’t come out, told me in her usual rude manner to go away, so that is exactly what I am doing,’ Agnes sniffed. ‘But you know she’s been off her food and hardly eaten anything and I’ve not heard if he’s coming back or not.’

‘I’ll talk to her. Good night, Agnes.’

Agnes hesitated, and then closed the door. Judging by the bulging shopping bag, she probably had her own dinner sorted. Deirdre waited for a while before she went into the gleaming immaculate kitchen, noticing a note about the salads had been stuck to the fridge. Lined up inside were plastic containers of ham and chicken. In a dish beside the Aga were two large potatoes.

Deirdre checked the time and saw it was exactly five thirty; Agnes would no doubt return in the morning at her usual prompt nine o’clock. Sighing, she realized she was not hungry and had no need to interrupt Lena until suppertime, but first she needed to have an urgent conversation with DI Reid.

Chapter 33

A
gnes stood alone at the bus stop waiting to get her bus to New Malden. She had relocked the gates after leaving, observing as she did so that only one vehicle remained out of the crowd of journalists and photographers who’d been attempting to get an interview. She did not even notice that the woman who approached her had actually got out of the parked car.

‘Mrs Moors?’ asked the pleasant-faced woman in a camel-hair coat. Agnes had nodded and then looked to see if her bus was coming.

‘I have spoken to you on the telephone a couple of times and I was just wondering if you would agree to be interviewed for an exclusive as I know you are the Fulfords’ housekeeper.’

Agnes was taken aback but took the proffered card and inspected it.

‘We would be willing to pay you a considerable amount, Mrs Moors, and we can conduct the interview at a hotel or wherever would be most suitable for you, but you must have known Amy Fulford well and all we would need is some background on what you thought of her as you’ll be very aware there has been considerable press surrounding her disappearance.’

Agnes hesitated and opened her handbag to place the card inside. There was still no sign of her bus, and at first she declined the offer, saying that she really was unable to divulge any personal details as she had signed a confidentiality contract, and would hate to get into any legal situation.

‘There would be nothing to worry about, Mrs Moors. You just have to look at it as if you are simply helping enquiries, not invading anyone’s privacy, and as I said we are very willing to pay you for your time.’

‘How much are we talking about?’ Agnes asked.

‘Why don’t we discuss it together? There’s a nice hotel close by, so we could go and sit down and talk, or if you would prefer we can go to your home.’

‘Well I don’t have much time,’ Agnes said, but then agreed to go with the journalist to the very plush Petersham Hotel.

Gripping his phone tightly, Reid listened attentively to Deirdre as she described what she’d just read in Amy’s exercise books. He was completely taken aback by the thought that their missing girl could have simply taken off to Italy. However, he knew that her passport had been recovered, and even so they had also made extensive enquiries into the possibility of Amy leaving England and had no result. He also paid close attention to Deirdre when she went on to say that having read through the schoolbooks she had found no sign that Amy was suffering from any kind of debilitating mental disorder.

‘We have been acting on a very experienced professional’s word, Deirdre, and for you to come up with an alternative scenario is unacceptable,’ he insisted. ‘Whether or not you have two teenage daughters and feel you know more than either myself or the murder team from reading Amy’s essays—’

‘I am not as you suggest coming up with any scenario based on my girls,’ she replied angrily. ‘What I am repeating to you is that judging from what I have read and from her most recent work she had planned to go to Italy and with someone called Miss Polka.’

Reid’s grip on the phone grew tighter than ever. ‘There’s been a very big time-consuming investigation, Deirdre, and you are not obviously privy to all the facts, but I have also read many of those exercise books and there was a very thorough search of Amy’s bedroom for any evidence. However, I will call in tonight and read the essays for myself.’

Deirdre bristled and finished the conversation by informing him that Marcus Fulford had not returned from Henley, and she had not had much time with Mrs Fulford, as she was working in her office at the house. She was reluctant to repeat her conversation with Agnes in which the housekeeper had suggested Marcus Fulford was homosexual, but she did, and was taken by surprise when Reid told her that Marcus was bisexual, but that there was no indication that it was connected to Amy Fulford’s disappearance.

Just as Reid replaced the phone DCI Jackson strode into the office to inform him that they had just received information that Harry Dunn, Mrs Fulford’s driver, had been rushed to hospital suffering from severe abdominal pains. Reid had to swallow hard as he felt sick to his stomach.

Jackson continued. ‘I called the hospital and told them it may be mushroom-poisoning and sent them a list of every mushroom mentioned in the journal. They said they’d do what they could, but his condition is critical and they’re doubtful he will survive the night.’

Reid’s face turned ashen; his mouth was instantly so dry he could barely speak. ‘It can’t be connected, it can’t. I don’t think Amy even knew where Harry lived. Both Lena Fulford and Agnes checked everything at the house and threw a load of food out. No one else who works or lives in the Fulford house has been ill at all, and anyway Lena sacked him over the watch. It’s impossible, simply impossible for Dunn to have been poisoned.’

‘Well you had better bloody check it out.’ Jackson slammed out of the office as Reid tried to calm himself down, battling against the sensation of everything closing in on him. Not only was he exhausted but now he was concerned that he had never mentioned the sexual relationship between Amy and Miss Polka. If Deirdre’s information led to the discovery of the pair going to Italy, he would have to admit failing to report it. He hoped to God that Harry Dunn was not a victim because if he was, it would be his career finished.

Agnes had a double gin and tonic. She had started by answering questions very diplomatically, but when offered ten thousand pounds, and a second double gin and tonic, her tongue loosened. She was certain that she could easily remove some family photographs from the Fulfords’ albums, but asked if she could call her daughter just to make sure she was doing the right thing.

Natalie immediately suggested that her mother ask for another five thousand, and to check that the journalist would ensure that there would be no repercussions over the confidentiality agreement she signed when starting work for Mrs Fulford. Agnes turned off the phone and pursed her lips. She then requested the payment be increased to fifteen thousand. The deal was agreed and Agnes was assured that she would see the article before it was printed, so that any changes could be made.

When DI Reid arrived at Kingston Hospital to enquire about Harry Dunn he found that DS Lane was already there. Harry had died just a short while earlier without Lane having an opportunity to talk to him. He told a shattered Reid that Harry’s wife said he came home from work with a container of bolognese from Mrs Fulford’s, and that was all he’d eaten with some spaghetti before falling ill. Harry hadn’t even had a chance to tell her that he had been sacked over the watch. Reid sank onto one of the hard waiting-room seats and put his head in his hands, wretched with guilt and wondering if he could have done more to prevent Harry’s death.

It was some time before Harry’s attending doctor was available to speak to Reid and Lane. Harry had been admitted with suspected gastroenteritis, his symptoms consisting of dehydration, high fever and severe bouts of vomiting. After DCI Jackson had called them they had administered various antidotes for mushroom-poisoning, but to no avail and Mr Dunn had eventually succumbed to a bronchial infection that had resulted in his lungs collapsing, culminating in a heart attack and death.

Harry Dunn’s body was being transferred to the mortuary and a post mortem was to be carried out the following day. Reid was shocked and asked if mushroom-poisoning could have brought on the lung collapse and heart attack. The doctor was non-committal until a forensic post mortem was done, and toxicology tests completed.

Reid, grasping at straws, asked if it was possible Harry’s lungs collapsed through bronchitis alone. The doctor said he doubted it as his wife said he was perfectly healthy and full of life before suddenly being taken ill. The doctor told Reid that he could speak to Mrs Dunn and pointed to the waiting room opposite them. Reid could see an elderly woman in floods of tears being comforted by a nurse. As much as he knew he should speak to her about her husband, his guilt was so great he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. DS Lane could see how upset Reid was and patted him on the shoulder, assuring him he would speak to her and take a statement. Reid thanked him and asked that he take her home and seize the empty bolognese container for forensics.

Reid went to the toilets to wash his face with cold water. To his relief there was no one else about as he stood staring at his reflection in the mirror, observing how his expression failed to hide his anger at his own stupid mistakes, and he banged his fist repeatedly into the metal towel holder, leaving two big dents. Returning to his car, he couldn’t get Mrs Dunn’s wretchedly sad face out of his mind; by the time he was in the driver’s seat the overwhelming emotions became too much for him, and he broke down in floods of tears.

Eventually composing himself, Reid rang Deirdre and said he would not be coming over, making the excuse that he’d been held up and to tell Mrs Fulford that he would like to talk to her in the morning. A frustrated Deirdre replied she was finding it all rather a waste of time as Mrs Fulford had not come out of her office for hours and still refused to eat anything. She felt like she was wet-nursing her rather than performing her role as a counsellor.

‘I could do with some counselling myself,’ he said quietly.

‘Pardon?’

‘Nothing, I’ll be in touch.’

No sooner had Deirdre come off the phone than Lena walked into the TV room.

‘Would you like me to make a tea or coffee, Lena?’

‘I’ll make you one,’ Lena said, beaming. ‘I have been so hard at work all day, and I think I have rectified all the problems. As from tomorrow I will reorder and start getting the business back in shape. Everyone has been very understanding, and I have got the orders coming back and deliveries can be deferred until we are ready.’