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Authors: Rebecca Tope

Fear in the Cotswolds (23 page)

BOOK: Fear in the Cotswolds
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‘No, you weren’t bad, Ben. It wasn’t anything to do with you. Janina has to go because her mother had an accident. Not your fault in any way at all. You are
not
bad, Ben – you have to believe me about that. It was all the grown-ups who were bad.’ Most of all, she realised, bloody Bunny, and her paranoid sidekick, Philippa.

Carefully, Thea reviewed what she had learnt. Her first instinct was to phone Gladwin and pass it all on, just as she’d heard it. But already she knew what the response would be:
It’s not evidence,
only hearsay
. If you repeated what someone else had told you, it didn’t count in a court of law. The police would have to question Ben directly, and make him say it all again. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind that, perhaps it would even be helpful for him. But perhaps not. For Thea, recalling the tormented little face, it seemed too great a risk. After all, George had killed himself after murdering Bunny. There was no retribution possible, no loose ends to be tied.

Except, of course, for Simon and Bunny’s other relatives. Didn’t they deserve to know the whole truth of what had happened?

Already, too, unexpected loose ends were dangling before her eyes. Had George really been a paedophile? If so, who else might have suspected, or even known for sure? She remembered Janina’s parting words, insisting on
Simon’s innocence – or had it been ignorance? Blinkered wilful refusal to face facts about damage to his own children? If Bunny had confronted George, didn’t that imply that she had some hard evidence against him? And if there was no truth in the accusation, why had he hit out at her, hard enough to kill her? Why such a powerful need to silence her, if it was all fantasy in her own twisted mind?

The need to tread delicately was obvious, as was the lack of urgency. She could give herself time to think it all through, and perhaps consult someone other than Gladwin. Quite who this might be remained obscure, for the moment.

Simon arrived home an hour later, harassed and resentful. ‘This is too much,’ he protested, ‘Janina going off like that. It makes things impossible for me.’

Thea could quite see. Any one of his troubles alone would be enough to justify panic and self-pity, but he had three or four big challenges: the death of his wife; the needs of his children; the demands of his job – and the overwhelming implications of a murder inquiry. She ached to rescue him, to reassure him that everything would work itself out. She forgot, for the moment, the distress of Simon’s elder son.

‘You should probably contact social services,’
she suggested. ‘They might have some help to offer.’

‘What? You mean they’d take the boys into care, because I’m not a fit father?’

‘Of course not.’ She looked at him intently. Janina had been right – he was hopelessly immature, with no idea how to manage the situation. ‘But if there’s nobody else, they’ll give you some support.’

‘There’s Barbara,’ he said. ‘She’s good with children.’

At least he hadn’t suggested Philippa, she thought ruefully.

‘Simon…Ben needs
you
. At least for the next few days, I think you have to forget the hotel and concentrate on rebuilding Ben’s security. He’s very shaken. He knows something about what happened to his mother. Try to encourage him to tell you about it. You’re the central person in his life, now.’ She ought to tell him everything Ben had said, to pass the burden onto the shoulders where it properly belonged. But she couldn’t rely on him to handle it responsibly. He might argue with the boy, or laugh the story away as make-believe. There had to be a reason why Bunny never shared her fears with him, and until this was apparent, Thea was afraid she might only make things worse.

‘Oh, God,’ moaned Simon. ‘I suppose you’re
right.’ He gripped his head in both hands for a moment, as if fearing it might explode. Then he looked up. ‘Tony! I’ll see if Tony can come and help. Why didn’t I think of that before? He’s brilliant with the boys – understands them a lot better than I do.’ He gave her a look full of pathos. ‘And thank you very much for coming to the rescue today. I should have said that sooner. I’m really very grateful.’

‘That’s OK. Anybody would have done the same. But—’

‘I know. You won’t be able to keep doing it. I understand. We’ll manage now. Tony’s self-employed – he can come here for a week or so, until we get sorted. I can’t believe I never asked him before. I suppose I was only thinking about women.’ He smacked himself lightly on the brow. ‘Ought to know better.’

The sudden brightening was almost more disconcerting than his despair had been. ‘Well, I hope it works out,’ she said, doubtfully, feeling a burgeoning sense of guilt at leaving the wretched Ben with the two boyish brothers that were his father and uncle.

It was Friday evening, the weather looking ominous again, the thought of further snow a dread out of all proportion to the probable results. It was like a rollercoaster, where you survived the first appalling drop, only to find the prospect of a second one almost impossible to bear. She needed to talk to somebody, but had no idea who might fill that need.

In the end it was resolved for her, not entirely satisfactorily, at least to start with. Gladwin phoned at nine. ‘Where were we?’ she asked, disarmingly.

‘I have no idea,’ Thea laughed. ‘It’s been a very busy day…again.’

‘Oh?’

‘Janina’s flown back to Bulgaria, leaving Simon not coping with his kids.’ The urge to reveal Ben’s testimony was massive, but still she kept her counsel. Once uttered, the story would be impossible to withdraw again.

‘Yes, I know. And we don’t have any good news for him, sad to say.’

‘That’s a shame. Is he still under suspicion?’

‘He’s in the frame, although we’ve got almost nothing on him.’

‘I saw the Philippa woman this morning. Bunny’s best friend. Have you met her?’

‘No, but I’ve read her statement.’ Something in Gladwin’s tone made Thea sit up. A picture was coming inexorably into focus, thanks to Ben’s story. Much of what Philippa had said was making more and more sense. From one moment to the next, it all seemed crystal clear, as if it had been sitting there all along, for anyone to see. And yet…

‘She thinks George killed Bunny,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t she?’

‘She’s got more sense than to say it outright, but yes, I think that’s what she believes.’

‘That would be very convenient, wouldn’t it,’ said Thea. ‘Neat and tidy.’

Gladwin didn’t reply directly. ‘You know… it’s odd, in a way, the amount of time and effort
we put into understanding a straightforward suicide. Do you remember that bloke in South Wales who killed his wife and kids and then himself, some years back?’

‘Not really,’ said Thea.

‘Well, the police spent
months
investigating his finances, love life, past history, just to find a reason. They already knew who’d killed them. It wasn’t necessary to get the whole story – but they felt they owed it, somehow, to the family. Well, it’s a bit like that here. We know George Jewell killed himself, but we’ve still been going through his house inch by inch.’

‘And have you found anything?’

‘Masses. Too much, if anything.’

‘Somebody moved his body,’ Thea reminded the detective. ‘Was that a crime?’

‘Technically, yes. Not reporting the discovery of a dead body is a crime. It usually implies something more serious, of course.’

It all felt too sad and serious to continue. People were dead and nothing was going to change that. ‘Sonia…I think I have to ring off now. I’ve got some orphan rabbits to feed.’

‘Good God. What happened?’

Thea told her.

‘Bottle feeding might work, I suppose. Have you got the gubbins?’

‘Sort of. I found an eye dropper thing in Lucy’s
bathroom cupboard. I suppose I’ll have to use diluted cow’s milk. I never had a chance to get proper baby milk.’

‘You need a bottle and a teat. I’ve got one, and some milk powder. We had a litter of puppies a few years ago, and I got a kit for feeding newborns, just in case. We never had to use it, but I have some experience. Shall I bring it round to you?’

‘What…now?’

‘Absolutely. They won’t last all night, will they?’

   

The detective superintendent arrived twenty-five minutes later, swinging a bulky carrier bag. ‘I brought everything I could think of,’ she laughed. ‘Cotton wool for their bottoms, a bit of natural fleece to lie on and all the feeding equipment.’

It was not much of a partnership: Gladwin did all the work. With infinite care, she introduced a tiny rubber teat into the little creature’s mouth, and waited for it to get the idea. ‘They must have been hungry,’ she murmured, as the third one took to the artificial food with alacrity.

‘They’re so
sweet
,’ said Thea. ‘I couldn’t just let them die, could I?’

‘Of course not. A life is a life, as my father always said. Did I mention that I grew up on
a hillside in Cumbria? We were always having to rescue dying lambs. Not that the farmer ever thanked us. He said a cade lamb was more trouble than it was worth.’

‘Cade?’

‘Orphan. Or rejected, more likely. Sheep don’t have a very long attention span. They forget they’re supposed to be taking care of their offspring.’

‘What did your father do?’

‘He was a baker. But we didn’t live over the shop. My mother said she needed a view. You could see about ten mountains and three lakes from our house.’

As each little rabbit was finished, Thea was given the task of massaging its stomach, to aid digestion. ‘Actually, I think they’re old enough for it to work by itself, but it can’t do any harm, as long as you don’t press too hard.’

‘Will they survive, do you think?’

‘Most of them probably will. Mind you, they’ll be psychologically damaged.’

Thea laughed at that. ‘It’ll make them better pets if they’re fixated on people.’ She had a thought. ‘Maybe we could give one to Benjamin. He likes animals.’

Inevitably, this took them onto the subject of the murder. ‘Poor little mite,’ sighed Gladwin. ‘Makes you wonder whether people ever stop to
think of the consequences of their actions.’

‘People? Murderers, do you mean?’

‘Among others.’

‘They don’t, of course. No more than Jimmy spared a thought for Jemima’s babies when he killed her.’

Gladwin gave her a long severe look. ‘Animals are different, and you know it,’ she said.

‘Yes, they are…but I doubt if a person in the act of killing somebody has the slightest notion of the implications.’

‘Unless those implications are part of the motive for doing the killing.’

‘Phew…that’s a bit deep,’ Thea protested.

‘Think about it,’ Gladwin persisted.

Thea thought, knowing she was being pushed into a corner, that she had very little choice left to her. ‘Um…’ she began. ‘I do have something I should tell you, but I’m worried about where it might lead. Something somebody told me.’

‘Hearsay,’ nodded Gladwin. ‘Where would we be without it?’

‘What?’

‘Come on. Half the crimes we solve are only brought to book because of something someone’s told us he overheard in the slammer. We have to wangle it so as to get the perpetrator to incriminate himself somehow. It’s a game, and if you’re holding a joker, or even a six of
diamonds, I’d appreciate knowing about it.’

‘You already think George killed Bunny, don’t you? You know it fits. Well…apparently somebody actually saw him doing it.’

Gladwin’s eyes narrowed, and her head tilted to one side. ‘Really?’

‘Somebody who wouldn’t make a very good witness in court.’

The detective’s shoulders slumped. ‘Like a child, you mean?’

‘Precisely like a child.’ And Thea told her everything Ben had said that afternoon. The two women forgot their roles for a few minutes, as they considered the consequences for little Ben and his family.

Then Gladwin straightened, and said, ‘It doesn’t fit, though, does it? Who moved his body? Who texted Simon after Bunny was dead?’

‘Kate?’ whispered Thea. ‘She could have seen George in the field, and moved him.’

‘That’s possible. It would be in character. But
why
?’

‘Oh, there are too many questions,’ Thea burst out. ‘They just go on and on until my head hurts. I don’t know how you can bear it, following all these futile clues, trying to work out who’s telling the truth – and never really completing the whole picture.’

‘It’s my job,’ said Gladwin simply. ‘And just
for the record, I’m still not convinced it was George who killed Bunny. Maybe he just
thought
he had. I told you before – there are anomalies.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like timings and head injuries and the position of the body. It’s all there, somewhere, but we’ve still got to assemble the pieces.’

‘Well, it’s past eleven,’ Thea pointed out. ‘We’ll both have to sleep on it.’

‘I doubt you’ll get much sleep. You’ll have to do all this feeding again at about…’ she glanced at the clock on Lucy’s wall ‘…three a.m., or thereabouts.’

‘No! It’ll take me
ages
. Here, let me do the next one, while you supervise. I’m not at all sure I can manage it.’

‘Well, I’m not noble enough to come and do it again. I only saw my boys for ten minutes this evening as it is.’

‘Twins,’ nodded Thea. ‘I remember.’ What she could not remember was whether the father was still on the scene. It was hard to see how Sonia could hold down such a senior job without substantial back-up from a second parent, but she could make no assumptions. Why not ask? ‘Is their dad at home?’

‘Paolo? Oh yes. He thinks the rabbit story is hilarious.’

‘Is he Italian, with a name like that?’

‘His mother is. We were at school together – childhood sweethearts. Married for fourteen years. I realise it sounds dull.’

‘Not at all. It was much the same for me.’ She stopped herself from going any further. It would be presuming far too much on Gladwin’s good nature to dump all the persistent grief and fear on her now. Besides, she already knew the basics, from their previous encounter in Temple Guiting.

She fed the last rabbit with embarrassing clumsiness, but at least she didn’t choke the poor thing. Finally they were all settled into their new nest, apparently satisfied. ‘I’m
enormously
grateful,’ she gushed. ‘Do you want something to drink before you go?’

‘Better not. It’s getting cold out there, and these little roads get very icy. Plus I have to be up at seven tomorrow.’ She gave Thea a very direct look. ‘I’ll phone you in the morning. We’re not finished with all this – you do understand that, don’t you?’

All this
did not mean the baby rabbits.

BOOK: Fear in the Cotswolds
13.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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