Kith and Kill (14 page)

Another tsunami of murmurings swept the room. It was time for Rafferty to hold up his hand. It got the required silence. ‘I'd like to speak to you individually, so if you could come up to Mrs Egerton's office at ten minute intervals, I'll speak to you there.’ He gazed at one middle-aged lady near the front. ‘Perhaps we could start with you? Mrs?

‘Mrs Paxton. Theresa Paxton.’

‘If you'd like to come with me.’

She rose, with a glance around at her colleagues as if to say ‘why did he pick on me?’, before following Rafferty and Llewellyn along the corridor and back up the stairs. Justin Pemberton stayed behind in the sewing room. To gossip, was Rafferty's conclusion.

Theresa Paxton was reticent at first, then the tap turned to full and her reminiscences fairly gushed out.

‘She was a wonderful woman. Do anything for you. Why only last year, she paid for me to have private treatment for my arm when I broke it playing with the grandchildren. Most of the staff here could tell you similar tales. Very kind lady even if she could have a scold's tongue on occasion.’ Theresa sniffed. ‘She'll be missed. It won't be the same here without her.’

‘As I told you and your colleagues, the facts point to it being one of her family that killed her. What are your thoughts on that? Can you imagine one of them killing her? Have you any idea
why
one of them might have wanted to murder her?’

Theresa shook her head. ‘No. I can't believe one of them did it.’ She paused. ‘Although she and Adam have been having a bit of a tussle just lately. Mrs Egerton was winning, as she always won all arguments, by reminding him who owned the company. There was no answer to that.’

‘And what about the rest of the family? Were there any grievances?’

‘Eric, Adam and Caroline all thought we should go after more of the young male market, but it was Adam who really badgered Mrs Egerton about it. He can be as determined as she is– was. I can't believe that she's gone. She was the life force of this place. Did you know that she was The Bird the firm was named after?’

Rafferty shook his head.

‘Yes, her late husband's business was doing okay, but nothing stunning. He changed the name to
L’oiseau
– at Mrs Egerton's instigation, after an outfit she wore for one of her plays – once she began to take a firm interest in the business. Sophia transformed the fashion side and updated the office with the introduction of the newest technology available. She's kept it up-to-date ever since. Always insisted on the latest technology no matter how much Eric might crib at the cost.’

‘I see. She must have brought quite a storm.’

‘Yes, she did. Her husband let her have her head. He'd rather lost interest in the business and wanted to retire. He was a lot older than Sophia. She was a whirlwind, here, there, everywhere. There wasn't a single aspect or area of the business that she didn't transform and transform for the better. Her late husband was so proud of her.’

‘Did you know him?’

‘Yes. Just barely. I've worked here since I was an apprentice.’

‘And are any of the others long-standing members of staff?’

‘There's Stephie. Stephanie Grainger. She's been here as long as I have. And Mr Unsworth, our chief designer. He's been the leading light behind the firm's fashions for four decades. Sophie brought him in over the head of the previous designer who resigned in a huff. He brought in a young team straight from college whose designs he liked or who had won awards from their colleges or from the industry itself.’

Although Theresa was voluble, they hadn't learned anything new. He asked her to ask Stephanie Grainger to come up next and let her go.

‘It's looking blacker and blacker for our Adam,’ said Rafferty to Llewellyn once the door had shut behind Theresa. ‘Bookie's debts, arguments with the victim, his homosexuality. He seems to have had a handful of reasons to want the winds of change to sweep over the firm. I wonder why Eric wasn't more supportive of him about strengthening the male fashion line.’

‘It sounds as if he just didn't want to upset his grandmother. After all, as Justin said, for all any but the murderer knew, she could have lived another ten years. Another fifteen even. Her health seemed to be excellent, apart from the arthritis that Mrs Sullivan mentioned, though I'll make an appointment to speak with her GP.’

‘Yes. Do that. I'll leave that to you.’

‘We also have Mrs Caroline Templeton, who is supposed to have joined with Adam Chambers’ arguments with Mrs Egerton.’

‘Yes. We mustn't forget her. Or her mother. I'd like to find out if Penny Chambers really was badly smitten with this admirer of hers and how badly his finances stood as well as how desperate she was to help him. It might be an idea to find out his name and address and talk to his neighbours.’

‘If he exists and isn't merely a figment of the mind of some malicious person.’

There came a knock on the door and Stephanie Grainger came in. She was as quiet as Theresa had been voluble and volunteered nothing during her allotted ten minutes. Rafferty noted her down for a second innings and let her go. The rest of the girls trooped in, one after the other, but they had nothing more to add to what they had already heard. Once the last of them had gone, Rafferty decided they'd go in search of the chief designer, Mr Andre Unsworth. They found him in a little cubbyhole behind the kitchen. He was surrounded by patterns and sketch pads with a tailor's dummy squashed into the corner of the cubbyhole and vying for space with swatches of material. Surely the man didn't create all his designs in here? Rafferty was so astonished that he asked him.

‘I have a large studio in what was the dining room,’ he told them. ‘But I prefer it in here. I can get away from the chattering youngsters I persuaded Mrs Egerton to take on. Talented they might be, but talkative they most definitely are. And they always have to have Radio One on, blasting out the most appalling sounds. So, rather than share the design room with them I come in here. This little room is my bolt hole. I'm comfortable here. I have everything that I need. Besides, I do a lot of my work on the computer nowadays.’

‘I understand that Mrs Egerton took you on?’

‘That's right. I suppose you could say I was head hunted.’ He laughed. ‘Oh dear. That's awful. Laughing when poor Mrs Egerton has been murdered. What must you think of me?’

‘A little laughter can go a long way to easing the trauma of sudden death. In the police we use it a lot.’ He looked at Unsworth's bent head. The designer was a little gnome of a man, with a barrel chest and a bald head. But his hands were as delicate as a girl's, with fingers that were long and slender. They didn't look like they belonged to him.

‘We've been speaking to all of the staff to try to discover if we can find information that might lead us to Sophia Egerton's murderer. Can you help?’

‘Oh yes. I can help, most certainly. You see, Inspector, I think I know the identity of the culprit.’

Rafferty stared
at Unsworth. Had he heard the man right? Was it really all going to be that simple? Andre Unsworth had worked closely with Sophia; maybe she had confided more in him than she had in anyone? But then the pessimistic side of him chimed in. If it's really going to be that simple why didn't Unsworth contact us earlier? What's he been waiting for? Suitably chastened, Rafferty said, ‘Go on, Mr Unsworth.’

‘Given that, from what I've heard, it must have been someone in the house who killed her, I think it must be Adam Chambers. I've no proof, you understand, but he's very volatile. Given to unwise impulses. Very keen to make radical alterations in
L’oiseau.
Doubtless he couldn't wait for Mrs Egerton to die so he could start to introduce his own ideas about how the firm should operate. I agree that we need to move with the times and appeal to the younger male market as well as the female, but there's no need to be hasty. Adam wanted Sophia to make radical changes without considering the financial costs or well-being of the business and sulked when she refused. We have a name for quality female fashion, you see and he wants to give equal prominence to the male fashions. He can't or won't understand that spreading the effort might result in a lowering of the quality of the female designs. We certainly couldn't, at the outset of such a radical change, afford to take on the requisite new staff. He gave little or no thought to the costs involved in both the creation and promotion. He hadn't asked Mr Eric to do the costings or to create a business plan for this new venture or taken any interest at all in the figures involved. Perhaps, if he'd approached this whole venture in a business-like manner, Sophia might have been ready to consider it. But as it was… He made all sorts of muttered threats about what he'd do when he was running the firm. It upset Sophia dreadfully that he should consign her to the grave, as he did by his utterances.’ Unsworth sighed. ‘Poor Sophia. She deserved better.’

‘Can I just be clear, Mr Unsworth,‘ said Rafferty. ‘Mr Adam Chambers actually said when he was “running the firm”?’

‘Yes. Certainly. I heard him say it. More than once. And then I heard it from other people. That's one reason why I have brought his name to your attention. A very frustrated and furious young man, I thought him. If he did murder Sophia I do not want him to profit from his wickedness. Do you know, he'd go into the sewing room to have a moan to the girls and disturb them at their work. So unprofessional. Heaven help
L’oiseau
if he's given his head. He'll expand at a rate the firm couldn't stand.’ Unsworth sighed again. ‘But I won't be here to see it. I've made my mind up that the day he takes over is the day I resign.’

‘Really? That bad?’

‘I've found Adam Chambers to be something of an autocrat. Or a would-be autocrat. I've always worked
with
my employers, not
for
them. Mrs Egerton understood that, appreciated my talents and fostered them. Mr Chambers is of the opinion I should be put out to grass.’

Was that the reason Unsworth had fixed on Adam as the guilty party? Rafferty mused. Was he angry at the man? It certainly sounded as if he was resentful towards him for trying to force him out of his job. But who could blame him for that? And it was interesting that Adam spoke of ‘when’ he took over the firm. It indicated that he
had
been aware of what was in his grandmother's will…

‘And now,’ said Unsworth, ‘I would like to go home. I live with my mother,’ he told them. ‘Mother is an invalid. I must get her dinner. She likes to eat at regular times. If she doesn't it upsets her blood sugar. It's a meal she looks forward to all day, so I try to make it a special occasion for her. We always sit at the table and have candles and the best linen and china.’ He glanced at his watch, which had a foam rubber band beside it from which lots of pins were stuck. ‘And I'm already late.’ He removed the band from his wrist, placed it on a porcelain hand that sat on his work table and took his jacket from behind the door.

Rafferty took the hefty hint with good grace. The fashion house was silent as they walked out, with no sound from the sewing room. The women must have gone home. It was past six. He supposed Andre Unsworth's team of young designers had also gone home. Never mind. He'd speak to them tomorrow or the day after. It seemed unlikely they could tell him any more than the head honcho, anyway.

‘Maybe we ought to follow Mr Unsworth's example and go home for dinner with our old ladies,’ said Rafferty once they had been ushered outside and had returned to the cars. It seemed Andre Unsworth didn't drive, as he set off at a brisk pace out of the forecourt. Rafferty considered offering him a lift. But by the time he'd thought of it Unsworth had disappeared from view. He was going in the wrong direction, anyway. Rafferty returned to his previous comment. ‘It'll be a surprise for them both.’ He grinned. ‘Let's hope neither of
us
is surprised by finding one of them in bed with the milkman.’

‘That would be
your
old lady. Not mine,’ said Llewellyn in a rare expedition into the colloquial. ‘Abra always had a flighty side.’ Rafferty's wife, Abra, was a first cousin to Llewellyn. Rafferty had introduced Llewellyn and his wife, Maureen, who was a blue-stocking lacking a flighty side and Llewellyn had returned the favour. ‘It's something you might want to watch.’

‘I've just made an honest woman of her, man. She'll hardly be bedding anyone yet, especially the milkman. Not our milkman, anyway. He's hairier than King Kong.’

‘Maybe so. But she wasn't a virgin bride. And you've had plenty of time to get bored with one another while you were cohabiting.’

‘Always the cheery word. I'm going to start calling you
Eeyore
.’ Rafferty wasn't sure he didn't prefer the non-colloquial version of Llewellyn. ‘What would I do without you?’

‘Come up with more theories probably.’

‘Hee haw. Go home,
Eeyore
. I'll see you tomorrow.’

Abra
was home when Rafferty reached their new semi. After enquiring hopefully, he learned that she hadn't yet managed to have a word with his two brothers about ma's present, but she promised to keep trying.

Although they'd moved in in early July, they were still in the throes of decorating, Rafferty having proved reluctant to make an early start, in spite of Abra's entreaties. After dinner, though, he felt an inexplicable urge to get on with it. Perhaps this nest-building was a pointer that he was at last getting broody? Wouldn't that please Ma?