Unnatural Wastage (12 page)

Sukey sighed. ‘It's obvious you've been chatting to some people at Maxworth's,' she said. ‘I've got to hand it to you, you don't miss much.'

‘That's what the
Echo
pays me for,' he said smugly. ‘So what's this assignment you have for me then?'

Sukey laid down her knife and fork and drank a mouthful of wine. ‘They say there's many a true word spoken in jest,' she remarked. ‘As it happens, while Vicky and I were at Holmwood we discovered that the owner, Brian Seaton, plays away and one of his lovers – whom incidentally he'd recently dumped – was Fenella Tremaine.'

Harry's jaw dropped and then he burst out laughing. ‘No kidding!' he guffawed. ‘So Dad was right about her!' He grew serious again and said, ‘You aren't suggesting his wife might be the killer, are you?'

‘None of us seriously considered that as a possibility, mainly because we know the origin of the murder weapon and there seems no possible way in which Carla Seaton could have got hold of it, let alone found the opportunity to kill Fenella. Actually, Penny Osborne did tentatively raise it as a possibility and was pretty smartly put down by DS Rathbone. But thinking it over,' she went on, ‘our impression of Carla, who struck us as a bit of a battleaxe and not exactly overburdened with sex appeal, was that she could be violent if provoked.'

‘This needs thinking about over the dessert.' Harry brought fresh fruit salad and ice cream from the fridge and spooned it into dishes. They ate in silence for a few moments. ‘It would help,' he said, ‘if I had more information about the murder weapon.'

Sukey shook her head. ‘Harry, I really can't give you any more details, but it would be very interesting if there happened to be some kind of link between Holmwood and Sycamore Park. I'm wondering if you could find a way of chatting up a few people at Holmwood to see what – if anything – of that sort you can uncover.'

Harry thought for a moment. ‘I suppose I could drop in and see old Major Howes again,' he said. ‘He's a nice old boy and like quite a few of the residents at Holmwood there's nothing wrong with his marbles, he's just wheelchair bound and couldn't bear living alone. I've been once before with Dad and he was very interested in my job – and he had a few amusing observations about some of his fellow residents. OK, I'll see what I can do.'

‘That's brilliant!'

He leaned across the table until his face touched hers. ‘You can express your appreciation later,' he whispered.

‘Who were you calling insatiable?' she whispered back.

The following morning the team settled down to prepare for the day's assignments. Sukey searched through the file of witness statements taken during the house-to-house enquiries until she found one given by Jennifer Freeman, who lived in Block B at Sycamore Park. It was brief and read: ‘I knew Fenella Tremaine only slightly. I first met her when I took over as secretary to the residents' association from her. She called on me at my flat to hand over the files and records. I offered her a drink and she stayed for an hour or so, but I haven't seen her since except just to pass the time of day when we happened to meet. I know people say she could be difficult, but I found her very pleasant and helpful. She warned me to be on my guard against Doctor Ellerman because according to her he's a bit of a bully and I'd already noticed they didn't exactly hit it off.'

‘Not a lot of help, but it's a start,' Sukey remarked as Vicky returned from the vending machine with a hot drink and settled down at her own work station.

‘It's always as well to be optimistic,' Vicky remarked cheerfully. ‘By the way, you're looking chipper this morning. Did you see Harry at long last?'

‘I did, and I took your advice.'

Vicky grinned. ‘It obviously worked. So what isn't a lot of help?'

‘The statement Jennifer Freeman made during the house-to-house interviews indicates only a slight acquaintance with Fenella, but I'm hoping she may have heard or seen something significant during or since the meeting in Ellerman's flat that didn't seem worth telling us about.'

‘What's her background?' asked Vicky.

‘She's an interior designer. She calls herself Décor for You. She gave her card to the woodie who interviewed her and I've made an appointment to see her at her showroom in Stoke Bishop. What are you doing today?'

‘I'm off to Bath to have a chat with Nancy Brotherton – Fenella's daughter. She sounded pretty upset when I rang to make the appointment. I think it's only just hit her that she's lost the mother she hadn't spoken to for a long time.'

Sukey nodded. ‘I can imagine. She's probably regretting not having made an effort at reconciliation and now it's too late.' She put on her jacket and picked up her bag. ‘Have a good day.'

‘You too.'

Décor for You sat, a little incongruously Sukey thought, between a fish and chip shop and a greengrocery in a parade which also included a hairdresser, a pharmacy and a small supermarket. The window display was simple: an armchair upholstered in dull aubergine fabric with a matching footstool, a low glass-topped table on which stood a pale green porcelain coffee pot with matching cup and saucer; a tall reading lamp behind the chair, apparently focused on a newspaper lying on the arm; a multicoloured rug in varying shades of soft green and purple that complemented the upholstery.

Sukey's entry was announced by the first few tinkling notes of ‘Home Sweet Home'. A door opened at the back of the shop and a woman of about her own age emerged and said, ‘Good morning,' in a vibrant contralto voice. Her appearance was striking; she had chiselled features, lustrous dark eyes and long, glossy black hair that hung in curtains on either side of her face. She wore a loose, brightly coloured dress with long sleeves, there were silver bracelets on both wrists and her long tapering fingers were heavily bejewelled.

‘Jennifer Freeman?'

The woman nodded and smiled, revealing strikingly white, even teeth.

‘Detective Constable Reynolds.' Sukey held up her ID.

‘Do come into my office.' She led Sukey into a room with a window looking out on a small backyard. Another woman, considerably older and more soberly dressed, was standing by a desk in one corner. As they entered she picked up a bag bearing the name ‘Décor for You' in gilded lettering on an ivory background. ‘I'll be off now to take this swatch to the Mayhews,' she said, with a brief nod in Sukey's direction. ‘Are you sure you don't want me to take the one for the Seatons at the same time? Holmwood's only a couple of miles further on.'

‘Thank you, Hazel, but I have to go there again myself,' said Jennifer. ‘Mr Seaton rang me yesterday to say that his wife isn't altogether happy with the colour scheme I'd suggested so we need to have another talk about it.'

‘If you say so.' A meaningful twitch of one eyebrow accompanied the words. ‘I won't be long.'

‘Right. I'll just put this on the door.' As Jennifer followed her from the room she waved a notice reading, ‘Back shortly'. When she returned she closed the inner door and invited Sukey to sit down. ‘I understand you've already made an arrest, so I really don't see how I can help you,' she began. ‘As I said to the officer who came to my door last Saturday after they discovered poor Fenella's body, I didn't really know her all that well.'

‘Yes, I've read your statement,' Sukey said, ‘but we have since learned that shortly after the meeting of the residents' association, at which there was a rather heated exchange between Fenella and Doctor Ellerman, there was a committee meeting at which you were present.'

‘I'm not sure I'd describe it as heated. Bad-tempered, perhaps. Anyway, you're right. It was John Yardley who called the meeting. He's chairman of the committee but he had the decorators in so Marcus – Doctor Ellerman – said we could use his flat.'

‘How long did the meeting last?'

‘The formalities were over very quickly, but Marcus offered us drinks and nibbles so we stayed for a little while.'

‘Were you sitting down or standing up?'

‘It's funny you should ask that. We were sitting down for the meeting and when Marcus brought the drinks, but then Larry Worsley, whom I'd noticed looking round as if he was taking an interest in some things in the room, commented on one of the pictures and got up to have a closer look. He owns an art gallery so naturally we were all curious to hear what he had to say. There were one or two others that he seemed to like so we followed him around.'

‘So there was a time when everyone was moving around looking at pictures?'

‘That's right. Excuse me, but I don't see—'

‘Just a moment,' Sukey interrupted, ‘I take it you were in Doctor Ellerman's sitting room?'

‘That's right, but—'

‘Did you happen to notice a glass-fronted display cabinet?'

Jennifer thought for a moment. ‘Yes. One of the pictures Larry was interested in was on the wall next to it.'

‘Did he look at or comment on any of the things inside the cabinet?'

‘He might have noticed them, but as far as I remember he was only interested in pictures. Why do you ask?'

‘I'm sure you've seen this?' Sukey took the photograph of the murder weapon from her bag.

Jennifer shuddered. ‘That's what Fenella was killed with, isn't it?' she said in a husky whisper. ‘Yes, of course I've seen it. It's been in all the papers.'

‘This knife has a very distinctive handle. When not in use it was probably kept in a sheath. Did you happen to notice such a knife in Doctor Ellerman's display cabinet?'

Jennifer started and put a hand to her mouth. ‘Are you saying Doctor Ellerman might have killed Fenella? Oh, surely not. He might have got cross with her but I can't imagine he—'

‘Please answer the question,' said Sukey.

Jennifer exhaled. ‘I'm sorry, I didn't really look at what was in the cabinet.' She glanced at a diamond-studded wristwatch nestling among the silver bracelets. ‘Is that all? I have to go out as soon as Hazel gets back.'

‘To call on Mr and Mrs Seaton, the proprietors of Holmwood Care Home?' said Sukey.'

‘That's right. Do you know them?'

‘It so happens our enquiries have revealed that Fenella Tremaine was a frequent visitor there.'

Jennifer's eyes flew open and Sukey detected a hint of concern in her expression. ‘I had no idea,' she said, and to Sukey's experi­enced ear it was plain the news was disturbing. ‘Perhaps she was helping them with their accounts,' she said after a moment. ‘I understand that was her job.'

‘She used to visit an old lady she'd known from childhood,' said Sukey, ‘and we have reason to believe that those visits led to a relationship developing between her and Brian Seaton.'

‘Oh, really? You just never know, do you?' Jennifer made a desperate but unsuccessful attempt to sound as if the information was of only passing interest. She stood up. ‘Well, if that's really all – I'm afraid I haven't been much help.'

‘As you've just remarked, you never know,' said Sukey. ‘Thank you for your time,' she added as, to the accompaniment of ‘Home Sweet Home', she took her leave.

S
mall, neatly trimmed evergreen shrubs grew on either side of the short path leading to the front door. Vicky's approach had obviously been observed, as she had barely touched the bell when the door was opened by a young woman in her mid to late twenties. She was wearing jeans and a loose blouse; in the crook of one arm she held a rosy-cheeked baby that was contentedly sucking a thumb.

‘Nancy Brotherton?' Vicky held up her ID. ‘DC Armstrong.'

‘Yes, that's right. I was expecting you. Do come in.' The woman led the way into a cosy sitting room with a window looking out over a small, well-tended garden. ‘Do sit down,' she said, pointing to an armchair. ‘I've just finished feeding Emily and I'll keep her on my lap until she's ready to go to sleep, if that's all right.'

‘Of course it is,' said Vicky. ‘She's a lovely baby; how old is she?'

‘Just turned six months.' Nancy's face suddenly crumpled. ‘This is Mum's only grandchild, and she never saw her,' she said in a broken whisper. ‘I feel so awful about it . . . I never even told her I was pregnant. We'd had our differences and . . . I should have told her . . . Luke said I should tell her, but I was too proud. Pride is one of the deadly sins, isn't it?' She wept quietly for a few moments, holding the baby close as if the warmth of the little body brought some comfort.

‘They do say that,' Vicky agreed. ‘I realize this must be very distressing for you,' she went on, ‘but I'm sure you want us to catch whoever killed your mother and we think you may be able to help us. We know so little about her, you see.'

‘Yes, I understand.' Nancy dried her eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. ‘Of course I want to see her murderer caught,' she said. ‘She didn't deserve that, whatever she did in the past.' She looked down at the baby and gently stroked the downy head. ‘Emily's falling asleep so I'll put her down and then I'll make some coffee. I dare say you'd like a cup?'

‘Thank you, that's very kind.' Vicky was already well primed with caffeine but it would have seemed ungracious to refuse.

‘No problem.' Nancy put the baby in a crib by the window and covered her with a light blanket. She went out; while she was absent, Vicky took a quick glance round the room. It was modestly but comfortably furnished, the colour scheme had been carefully chosen and the few pictures and ornaments blended comfortably with their surroundings. There were several framed photographs, one of Nancy, Emily and a good-looking man of athletic appearance and another in which the same man featured in the front row of a local football team. Vicky stood up to take a closer look.