ONCE UPON A LIE (A Fitzjohn Mystery) (5 page)

‘
Well, whatever way one receives such news, it’s a shock to the system.  Even so, I felt the need to speak to you.’

‘I’m afraid there’s little I
can tell you at this stage.’

‘
Oh, I realise that,’ replied Esme.  ‘I came because I believe you’ll be piecing together my nephew’s movements over the past twenty-four hours, and I wanted to tell you that he came to see me last evening.’

‘
I see.  Well, in that case, would you mind coming through to my office?’

‘No, not
at all.’  Esme picked up her handbag and the walking cane.  ‘And it’s
Miss
Timmons.’

‘
Oh. I beg your pardon.’

‘That
’s all right.  It happens a lot,’ said Esme, as they walked together along the corridor and in to a large room.

Esme hesit
ated in the doorway as she looked around.  ‘My, it’s a big office you have, isn’t it?  Reminds me of a school room.’  A quick smile came to Esme’s face.  ‘I worked as a teacher in my younger days.’

At the far side of the room
, a ginger-haired young man scrambled to his feet.

‘This is Detective Sergeant Betts,
Miss Timmons.  Miss Timmons is Michael Rossi’s aunt, Betts.’

Fitzjohn pulled out the chair in front of his desk. 
‘Please, have a seat, Miss Timmons.  Would you care for a cool drink or a cup of tea, perhaps?’

‘A cup of tea would be most welcome,
Chief Inspector.  I’m quite parched after my journey.’

Fitzjohn
glanced at Betts, smiling as he did so.  ‘I wouldn’t mind a cup myself, Betts.’

While Betts left the room
, Esme, grasping her cane with its plastic covered handle, settled herself in to the chair.

‘You said your nephew came to see you last night
, Miss Timmons.’

‘Yes
.  Michael calls in from time to time to see how I am.  Of course now… well…’ She paused, trying to prevent her growing despondency taking hold.  ‘Anyway, last night, he arrived a few minutes after six.  I know because I’d just sat down to watch the SBS World News.  It was unusual.  That he called at that time, I mean.  You see, he knows I have dinner then, and that I like to watch the news.  It alerted me to the fact there might be something wrong.’

‘And was there?’

‘He never said, although I sensed his distress.  All he seemed interested in was looking through Claudia’s study for some letters.’  Esme noticed the Chief Inspectors questioning look.  ‘Claudia was Michael’s twin sister.  She died just over a year ago, poor dear.’

‘
I take it your niece lived with you before she died, Miss Timmons.’

‘No
, she didn’t.  She just used one of the upstairs rooms in my house as a study, and for her restoration work.  She freelanced as an art restorer, you see, besides working at the New South Wales Art Gallery.  The room is as she left it, filled with her books and paraphernalia.’  Esme sighed.  ‘I didn’t have the heart to throw any of it away.’

‘And you
r nephew said he was looking for some letters?’

‘
Yes.  I don’t know that he found them though.  He didn’t say.’  Esme paused.  ‘I wouldn’t blame you for thinking this is all irrelevant to your investigation, Chief Inspector, and I wouldn’t have thought much about it myself, but for the intruder.’

‘Intruder?’
  Fitzjohn sat straighter in his chair.

‘Oh, didn’t I mention that?
’  Esme smiled.  ‘That’s what’s irritating about being older.  One tends to forget things from time to time.  Well, the fact is, I first heard the upstairs floorboards creak at twenty-three minutes past two this morning.  It gave me quite a start, I can tell you.’  Esme eyed Fitzjohn speculatively.  ‘I expect you’re thinking I imagined the whole thing, but you’d be wrong because I went upstairs to have a look, and I saw the intruder coming out of Claudia’s study.  That’s when I walloped him with my cane.  And in case you’re wondering, that’s why my cane has a plastic bag over the handle.  I thought there might be forensic evidence on it.’  A stunned Fitzjohn continued his silence as Esme handed him the cane.  ‘I must have fainted after that because the next thing I remember, I was lying on the floor.’

‘
Are you injured in any way, Miss Timmons?’ asked Fitzjohn, showing concern.

‘It’s hard to tell.  At my age, one tends to have aches and creaking sensati
ons on a daily basis, but other than a bruised hip, I think I’m fine.’

Fitzjohn and Esme both looked around as the door opened and Betts backed
in to the room carrying a tray.  ‘I thought I’d join you,’ he said, placing the tray on Fitzjohn’s desk before pulling up a chair.  ‘Milk, Miss Timmons?’

Fitzjohn drummed his fingers on the desk.

‘Yes.  Thank you, Sergeant.  You’re very kind.  I hope all this is of some help, Chief Inspector,’ said Esme, looking back at Fitzjohn.  ‘I know it’s vital at the start of an investigation to get as much information as possible.  At least that’s what I’m led to believe.  I read a lot of crime fiction, and of course, there’s the nightly news.’

‘I can assure you, Mis
s Timmons, your efforts are much appreciated.  As you’ve just said, it’s important to gather as much information as possible, as soon as possible.’  Fitzjohn sipped his tea.  ‘What would really help is if you can tell us what time your nephew left your house last night.’

‘
It was just after seven.’

‘Did he take anything with him?’

‘He did have a book under his arm when he left.  It had a black leather cover.  You never know, if he had found the letters, he might have popped them inside.’  Esme hesitated.  ‘I’m sorry to be so vague, Chief Inspector.  At the time, I wasn’t taking much notice.’

‘Did he say where he was going?’

‘Mmm.  There again, I didn’t take a lot of notice.  I wanted to get back to my dinner.  But I seem to remember him saying he was going to call around and see Charlotte.  She’s Claudia’s daughter, and my great-niece.’

‘
Charlotte Rossi?’

‘Yes
.’  Esme frowned.  ‘Have you spoken to her?’

‘We have
.  Early this morning.’

‘Oh, the poor dear. 
I did try to ring her before I left the house this morning, but there was no answer.’

‘
We found her at your nephew’s house, Miss Timmons.  Apparently, waiting to accept the delivery of a fridge.’

‘I see.
’

‘She wasn’t alone.  A woman by the name of
Phillipa Braithwaite was with her.’

‘
Oh, thank goodness for that.  It makes me feel a bit better.  It’s terrible to receive such news when you’re alone.  More so, I think, when you’re young like Charlotte.  Phillipa Braithwaite was Claudia’s friend.  From school days.  They lost touch, but were reunited a few years ago.  After Claudia died, Phillipa took Charlotte under her wing, so to speak.’

‘I see. 
Where do you live, Miss Timmons?’ asked Fitzjohn.

‘
Waverton.  I’ve lived there all my life.  I stayed on in my parents’ house when my fiancé failed to return from the Korean War.’  Esme paused for a moment in reflection.  ‘It was 1953.  He was very young.  Twenty-three.  Seems like yesterday.’  Esme gave a slight smile.

‘It’s been quite a journey for y
ou all the way from the North Shore, Miss Timmons.  Detective Sergeant Betts and I will be happy to escort you home.’

‘W
ell, that’s very kind.  And I think I might accept.  I was a bit worried about getting home again.  The later in the day it gets, the busier the trains will be.  It’ll also give you the opportunity to have a look through Claudia’s study.  You never know, it could aid your investigation.’

Fitzjohn smiled.  ‘A
good suggestion, Miss Timmons.’

Esme’s home, nestled amongst the trees and shrubs in her garden, exuded elegant charm of a bygone era.  Fitzjohn pushed the wrought iron gate open and let Esme pass though.  ‘Well, this is home, Chief Inspector,’ she said, taking her keys out of her handbag and leading the way along the garden path to the house.  ‘Unfortunately, you’re not seeing the garden at its best.  It misses Claudia’s tender touch, I’m afraid.’  They ascended the steps to the front verandah where two white whicker armchairs, yellowed by age, gave further evidence of an era long past.  Esme unlocked the front door and stepped inside.  ‘Come in, gentlemen,’ she said, putting her handbag on the hall table. ‘You’ll find Claudia’s study upstairs at the end of the hall.’  Esme removed her straw hat.  ‘I’m sure you’ll forgive me if I don’t accompany you.  I don’t think my legs will take those stairs again today.  And, at the moment, I don’t think I can face seeing the mess the study’s been left in.’  As the two police officers disappeared upstairs, Esme looked in to the mirror above the hall table.  ‘Oh, you look a fright,’ she muttered.  She replaced her lipstick, studied herself in the mirror again, and made her way to the kitchen, to the sound of floorboards creaking above.  Unlike the previous evening, the sound gave her a renewed sense of security.  Making the most of that feeling, Esme made tea, later wheeling the tea trolley, complete with chocolate cake, in to the living room, where she sat down and waited.

Some
time later, the Chief Inspector and his Sergeant reappeared.  ‘I’ve made some refreshment for you both,’ she said. ‘I’ll let you pour your own.’

‘That’s very kind,
Miss Timmons.  Thank you.’  Fitzjohn poured himself a cup of tea, while Betts eyed the chocolate cake.  ‘Did you notice anything missing from the study, Miss Timmons?’ he asked, settling himself into an armchair.

‘It’s
hard to tell with the books and papers strewn everywhere.  Hannah may know.’  Esme noted Fitzjohn’s questioning look.  ‘She comes in to clean on Friday mornings.  Yesterday she vacuumed and dusted upstairs.’

‘Then we must speak to her,’ said Fitzjohn
, sipping his tea.  ‘I’d also like to call in our forensic team.  I’m sure they won’t inconvenience you too much, and it might help us to ascertain whether there’s a connection between last night’s break-in and your nephew’s death.’

‘
If there is a connection,’ said Esme, ‘I suppose there’s every possibility the intruder might return.’

‘Is there anyone you can
stay with, Miss Timmons?  For the time being.’

‘So you do think there’
s a possibility of the intruder returning,’ said Esme, with a glint in her eye.  ‘But to answer your question, Chief Inspector.  I daresay I could go and stay with Charlotte, but I prefer to stay here.’

Moments later, Esme saw Fitzjohn and Betts to the front door
where she said goodbye before returning to her armchair in the living room.  A void had been created by their short stay and Esme felt it sweeping over her now, bringing with it a feeling of loneliness.  She had felt it before, of course, after Tom failed to return from Korea in 1953, and then again when both her parents had passed away, and she found herself alone.  But this time it was different.  Michael’s life had been taken from him, he did not die because he was fighting for his country, or because he had grown old. Esme sat back and wept.

CHAPTER 7

Fitzjohn and Betts left Esme Timmons watching the midday news.  Outside, Betts opened the wrought iron gate, hanging loosely from its hinges, and followed by Fitzjohn, made his way to the car.  ‘I can’t help but feel sorry for Miss Timmons, sir.  Other than her great-niece, Charlotte Rossi, she’s now quite alone.’

Fitzjohn listened, somewhat surprised at Betts’s empathy.
  ‘She’s certainly had her fair share of loss,’ he replied.  ‘Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to be here when the forensics team come in, Betts.  Miss Timmons is remarkably stoic, but even so, it might be disconcerting for her to have a bunch of strangers in the house.  Especially after the break-in.’

‘Do you think
the break-in was connected to Michael Rossi’s death, sir?’ asked Betts, unlocking the car doors.

‘It’s hard to tell at this stage, but to be on the safe side, I want the Coroner’s
report in to Claudia Rossi’s death, and as much information about her as you can lay your hands on.’  Fitzjohn settled himself in to the passenger seat, removed his glasses, and used the handkerchief from his breast pocket to mop the perspiration from his forehead.  ‘Where did Miss Timmons say her cleaning lady lives?’ he asked.

‘
In an apartment building on Willoughby Road, sir.’

‘
Very well, we’ll go there first to make arrangements for her to look through the study,’ said Fitzjohn, adjusting the flow of cool air on to his face before putting his glasses back on.

Minutes
later, they walked in to the apartment building, Betts running his eyes down the list of tenants.  ‘I don’t see her name here, sir.’

‘
Are you sure we have the right address?’