The House of Women (13 page)

‘
In a famous mediaeval poem, there’s a house called Llys Ifor which falls into ruin. Ned reckoned the memory of all that’s happened in a place survives, so as the Jones’s Llys Ifor housed the family’s greed alongside the slaves’ misery, he thought it only right the house should eventually collapse under the weight of negative emotion.’ He paused, coffee mug half-way to his lips. ‘His ideas took on a life of their own, you know. My head must be as full of his thoughts as Phoebe’s.’

‘
She was desperately anxious we shouldn’t try to open the Box of Dreams and the Box of Clouds. D’you know what’s in them?’

‘
Dreams and clouds, I guess. I don’t think they can be unfastened, anyway. They’re sealed right around with brass straps.’ George smiled. ‘Did you find the Box of Lies, too? I know that opens, because I often saw Ned sticking bits of paper in there.’

‘
What does it look like?’

‘
It’s an old shoe-box, made from that thick, brown, old-fashioned cardboard.’ George smiled again, teeth gleaming. ‘He had another one like it, which he said was for pieces of paper with dark intentions, but I don’t know if that had a name, as well. He was obsessed with paper.’

‘
I gathered that from the state of his room.’

‘
Edith called it a germ’s paradise, and said it was no wonder he was never well. She’d stand at the door sometimes, clucking and fidgeting, almost begging Ned to agree to a good clear out, but he wouldn’t, of course. He once told her everyone’s history is written down somewhere, including all her deepest fears and secrets, and psyched her up so much I thought she’d collapse.’

‘
That wasn’t very kind, and it could be construed as blackmail.’

‘
Oh, come on!’ George taunted. ‘Ask Iolo Williams how crucial paper is: his whole career’s built on a few scraps of it.’

10

Hazy streaks of pink and purple, the lingering remnants of the day, lit the sky to the west as McKenna locked his car and went through the back entrance of the police station, the harsh white interior lights dazzling his dark-adapted eyes.

Behind a desk completely overwhelmed with paper, Dewi laboured, reading and puzzling and
sorting, neat piles growing at his elbow, and on the floor by his feet. ‘Before you ask, sir, I’ve nothing to report,’ he said. ‘This is only phase one. Phase two starts when I finish putting this lot into some kind of coherent order, which will probably be,’ he added, indicating the stack of boxes as yet untouched, ‘some time next month.’

‘
Have you come across a Box of Lies yet?’ McKenna asked. ‘An old brown cardboard shoe-box?’

‘
If you look in that carton by your feet, sir, you’ll see it’s full of old brown cardboard shoe-boxes.’ He leaned back and stretched, rolled-up shirt sleeves grimy with dust. ‘And unless there’s a label to tell me, how will I know which one’s got lies in it?’

‘
I’ve no idea.’ McKenna yawned. ‘Anyway, either tomorrow or Thursday, depending on Edith’s state of equilibrium, you’re to help George Polgreen sort the books and papers we left in Ned’s room.’

‘
Is there an actual point to this paper-chasing, sir? The drugs and bracelet are more important.’

‘
You’re looking for motive.’ McKenna glanced at his watch. ‘And you can pack up for tonight, as I’ve no wish to be rumoured a slave-driver by the canteen gossip.’

‘
I’ll finish this batch first. By the way, Inspector Rowlands is waiting in your office. He had trouble with the statements.’

Rowlands was dozing in McKenna
’s chair, head nodding, mouse-brown hair ruffled by a breeze through the open window. He jumped like a frightened cat when McKenna coughed.

‘
You should’ve been away long ago,’ McKenna said, taking another chair. ‘It’s a long drive to your home territory.’

‘
I might look for digs for the time being. My wife said it’s less disruptive if she knows I’m away for good, rather than not knowing what time I’ll get in of an evening.’ He reached for a cigarette, pushing the packet towards McKenna. ‘I’m a bit concerned about Janet. I had to send her home.’

‘
Why?’

‘
She interviewed that sulky French piece while I talked to the professor, and twice I heard her rush upstairs to the bathroom. She said the woman’s perfume was making her feel sick.’

‘
She was supposed to see her doctor this evening, but she missed the appointment because I kept her late.’

Rowlands smoked in silence, then said:
‘She’s pregnant, isn’t she? My wife was just the same both times.’

‘
Have you said anything to Dewi?’

‘
Good heavens, no! It’s Janet’s business. I just told her to see the doctor first thing in the morning.’

‘
Let’s hope she takes more notice of you than she does of me, then,’ McKenna said. ‘She can be very wilful.’ He tapped ash into an overfull tray. ‘How did you get on with the Williamses? Did you take sample fingerprints?’

‘
I got on extremely badly, and so did Janet. They were hostile, rude, arrogant, and completely unco-operative, and if we want their prints, even for elimination purposes, we’ll have to get a court order.’

‘
Didn’t you say we could arrest them for obstruction?’

Rowlands nodded.
‘He stood there quivering with rage, a huge glass of neat gin in his hand, and she stood beside him, sneering as only the French can, calling us “
les
flics
”, which is French for the lowest form of police life. Maybe you should have gone, and thrown your rank around a bit.’

‘
Oh, I wouldn’t rank high enough to make the difference.’ , McKenna smiled wearily. ‘Perhaps Ms Bradshaw will oblige us.’

11

When McKenna arrived home, his two cats were draped along the parlour window-ledge, while in the garden, two of their friends performed an open-air concert. When his joined in a chorus, he thought their music sounded rather like Schoenberg. As soon as he opened the back door, the two songsters scarpered over the wall, his own in pursuit, and he lingered for a while, waiting for them to return, night scents drifting past and occasional traffic on the distant main road disturbing the edge of the silence around him.

He made supper, put out fresh food and water for the animals, and tried to call Janet, to find she had switched on her answering machine. Wondering if Edith had surfaced from her drugged stupor, he fell asleep on the chesterfield, not to stir even when the feline pursuit began to chase its own tail as the two songsters rushed through the open back door and took flight up the staircase, his own animals close behind.

WEDNESDAY, 22 AUGUST

1

THE POSTMAN DELIVERED only a few circulars to McKenna on Wednesday morning. Relieved, he read the invitations and exhortations on every garish piece of paper in each envelope, before tossing them in the bin.

A strange car occupied the space next to his parking bay in the station yard, a big angular vehicle the colour of shiny coal, with alloy wheels, smoked glass windows, and a soft top folded neatly down to expose a chic functional interior.

‘Nice car, isn’t it, sir?’ Dewi lounged against the back door. ‘It’s also got fuel injection, power steering, and it’ll easily top 130.’

‘
Very impressive.’ He stood back, surveying the lines, imagining himself behind the wheel on the open road. ‘Whose is it?’

Dewi grinned enormously.
‘Mine.’ He left his vantage post, and walked over. ‘I bought if off Geraint, and it’s definitely totally legit. There’s even a Stealth tracking system, in case some bugger tries to nick it.’ Reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief, he rubbed at a minute smudge on the wing. ‘I got a decent trade-in, so it hasn’t quite put me in hock for the next twenty years.’

*

Shrouded in grubby dust-sheets, the corridor outside Diana Bradshaw’s office was a jumble of ladders, rags, cans of paint, cartons of white spirit, and brushes in many sizes. As McKenna sat down beside her desk, she yawned, and he thought that with her face devoid of make-up, she looked more human and approachable. ‘Hard to sleep when it’s so hot at night, isn’t it?’ he ventured.

She stared at him, eyebrows drawn together, he
r eyes a little bloodshot. ‘Are you trying to be funny?’

‘
Of course not. No-one sleeps well this weather.’

‘
Especially not when they’re disturbed every half-hour or so!’

‘
I don’t understand.’

‘
Don’t you know what happened overnight?’ She tapped the single sheet of paper on the desk, and he noticed her chipped nail varnish. ‘Because the officers in this station don’t seem to be able to deal with the most trivial matters a rookie straight from training college would take in his stride, I had barely two hours sleep!’

‘
May I?’ Taking the paper, McKenna read of a summer’s night riven with human and animal endeavour. An elderly woman, putting a milk bottle on her doorstep, had watched a polecat wriggling along Mount Street, its tail brushing dust off the road, then ‘Trumpton’, as the fire brigade was known, were called just before midnight to quench a late-night barbecue which tipped over and set fire to a hedge, while a young mother in Maesgeirchen, retrieving her washing from the line, found someone had forestalled her and filched her new lace brassiere and matching knickers. Pushing their state of the art vehicle to its limits, the traffic police chased a boy-racer from the wealthier shores of Anglesey, joy-riding in his mother’s turbo-charged sports car, hurtling over Menai Bridge as some poor young men from Bangor’s council estate crossed from the mainland to the island by walking the bridge suspension chains rather than the footway. ‘All we need follow up is the washing line theft. There was a spate of those last summer, too.’

‘
Was Superintendent Griffiths consulted over every little incident?’ she asked coldly.

‘
No, ma’am, because he didn’t insist on prior consultation before manpower or money was deployed, as you did. So, unless you allow people to use their initiative, you can look forward to many more disturbed nights.’ As she opened her mouth to speak, he went on, irritated beyond deference. ‘We have experienced officers at all ranks in this subdivision, and twenty-four hour back-up at divisional HQ. If you need to know of something, you’ll be told, and on the odd occasion when communication or judgement fails, we pick up the pieces later.’ He rose. ‘By the way, are you particularly busy this morning?’

‘
Why?’

‘
Professor Williams and his wife were singularly uncooperative to wholly reasonable requests, and they might be less inclined to argue with you than they were with Rowlands.’

2

Iolo Williams’s silver car again flaunted itself in the sunshine of Glamorgan Place, and edging his own unremarkable motor into the space behind, McKenna decided the vehicle was as vulgar as its owner.

Rowlands examined the Jaguar
’s leather interior and in-car toys. ‘Being a professor is more lucrative than I thought.’

‘
He writes books, as well, and goes on lecture tours.’

‘
He’d need to sell thousands of books to cover the insurance,’ Rowlands commented. ‘And what about the big Edwardian house by Menai Strait? And the hired help?’

‘
Maybe someone left him the house. There was money in Wales at one time, you know. Ned’s family had plenty, and Edith isn’t exactly shooing wolves from the door.’

‘
We know where their loot comes from. I think I’ll check out the professor.’

‘
Why? Maybe his wife’s rich. Maybe his first wife won the pools and paid him to leave her.’

‘
And maybe not.’ Rowlands walked up the path. ‘Has he got any kids? And where
is
wifey number one, anyway?’

‘
I don’t know! And I don’t think kids or first wife are relevant.’

‘
According to Prys, without knowing the facts, you can’t know what’s relevant and what isn’t.’

‘
You’re beginning to sound like him,’ McKenna said, waiting for someone to answer the door. ‘As for facts, it’s a relevant fact that the professor is here, rather than sitting in his big Edwardian house, where Ms Bradshaw and Janet expect him to be.’

The other man raised his eyebrows.
‘Surely Bradshaw will have telephoned first, to make sure they’re in?’

Solange answered the summons, dressed again in black, but embellished today with a necklace of hea
vy gold box links. Matching earrings stretched her Ioloes with their weight. Squinting in the sunlight, she looked them over from head to foot, then tossed her head and clicked off along the hall, calling: ‘
Les
flies
!
Encore
!’ before disappearing into the sitting room.

Iolo erupted from the kitchen.
‘What the hell d’you want now?’

‘
A little civility wouldn’t come amiss,’ McKenna said. ‘My superintendent is on her way to see you, as you were so unhelpful last night.’

‘
What?’ The professor’s face, pasty and sour-looking, paled to the hue of dirty flour.

‘
Superintendent Bradshaw is on her way to see you and Mrs Williams about the unfinished business of statements and fingerprints.’

Edith sidled around the sitting room door, wispy and pallid.
‘What’s happening? Why is everybody shouting? I’ve got
such
a headache.’

Iolo turned to her.
‘We’re not shouting, dear. Everyone’s a little tense. We’ve got to go.’ For the first time, McKenna heard something other than harshness in his voice.

‘
Why?’ She tilted her head, like a child.

‘
Professor Williams wasn’t able to finish his statement last night,’ McKenna said. ‘Two officers are waiting at his house at the moment.’

‘
Statement about what?’ Edith peered at the men on her doorstep. ‘He hasn’t done anything.’ She bowed her head, and McKenna watched tears squeeze from her eyes. ‘I can’t stand this! I really can’t!’

McKenna took her arm, persuading her to the kitchen and into a chair.
‘Where are the girls?’

‘
I don’t know.’

‘
Are they out?’

‘
I don’t know!’ She looked around the room, then jumped to her feet, snatched a bottle of tablets from the counter, and clutched it to her chest.

‘
You must have some idea where they are?’

‘
Why can’t you leave me alone? I told you about Ned’s shirt, and you said it’d be all right, and now you won’t leave me alone!’ More tears trickled down the side of her nose. Her eyes were bloodshot and her whole body trembled.

McKenna sat down and lit a cigarette.
‘You already know what we must do, and why.’

She began to struggle with the bottle top.

‘Are tablets the answer?’ he asked. ‘They could make you feel worse.’

‘
They make me feel better!’

‘
Aren’t they more like a crutch which keeps collapsing when you least expect it?’

‘
I need them!’

He reached for the ashtray on the counter, and found it full of lipstick-stained butts.
‘Why was Mina prescribed drugs?’

‘
She
needed them.’

‘
Why?’

‘
She wasn’t happy.’

‘
Is she happier now?’

‘
I don’t know! She won’t talk to me!’ She slumped like a rag doll. ‘I’m her mother, and she won’t talk to me, and Phoebe speaks to me as if I’m stupid.’ She fell silent, turning the bottle round and round in her hands.

‘
You were left to bring up the girls on your own, and that’s hard for anyone. I haven’t met Mina, but you should be proud of the other two.’ He dropped ash on top of the stained butts. ‘I know Phoebe can be challenging, but that’s her, and her age.’

‘
She’s very clever, you know. Ned said she could do anything she wanted.’

‘
She’s grieving for him.’ He paused. ‘And you’re probably doing the same. He lived here a long time, and died very suddenly in very distressing circumstances.’

‘
I’m afraid,’ Edith whispered. ‘It’s all so threatening.
You’re
threatening.’

‘
Yes, I know.’ He stubbed out the cigarette, spilling ash on the table, the stench from the ashtray nauseating.

‘
I’m not always like this,’ she added.

‘
I don’t expect you are.’ He smiled. ‘And I don’t think you need to be afraid.’

‘
But I am, because if somebody
did
kill Ned, they might come back for the girls, or even me.’

*

The bruise on Phoebe’s face had changed colour. ‘Annie
told
Mama we were going shopping. We’ve only been out half an hour. The solicitor’s coming at half ten.’

The kitchen was crowded with women and shopping bags and the child, who leaned against her grandmother, staring at McKenna.

‘Where’s Mina?’ he asked.

‘
In her room,’ Annie said.

‘
Having a sulkfest,’ Phoebe added. ‘And she didn’t eat any breakfast, so she’s probably getting anorexic. She’s prone to hysterical responses.’

‘
Cassandra would be a better name for you,’ Annie told her. ‘Make yourself useful, and put away the shopping.’

Methodically piling foodstuffs in cupboards and refrigerator, Phoebe said:
‘George calls me a
venticello
. It’s Italian for a little wind, or in other words, a gossip.’ Seeing the bottle of tablets still clutched in her mother’s fist, she groaned. ‘Have you taken some more?’

Sighing, Edith relinquished the bottle, dropping them on the table with a little clatter, and rose to her feet, stiff and bent like an old woman. Bethan caught hold of her skirt, and, as she ruffled the child
’s hair, McKenna felt a twist of sympathy for her.

‘
No, dear. They don’t really help, do they?’

‘
We’ve been telling you that for years.’ Exasperation sharpened Phoebe’s voice.

‘
Take Bethan out to play while your mother’ sorts herself out,’ McKenna told her. ‘The house is a bit like a three ring circus.’

‘
Have you seen George yet?’ she demanded. ‘And did you telephone Auntie Gladys?’

‘
Yes, no, and I don’t want a lecture.’

She stared mutely, then took her niece by the arm and trudged outside. He saw the cat crouched on the doorstep, waiting for her, and watched the little trio go up the path and disappear through the gate in the wall.

‘You’ve hurt her feelings,’ Annie commented.

‘
She’ll get over it,’ Edith said. ‘She’s far too pushy at times.’ She poured water into the coffee percolator, and flicked the switch. ‘My solicitor’s coming to look after Phoebe’s interests,’ she told McKenna, ‘but I’m not sure Mina doesn’t need him more.’

‘
Why?’ Annie asked.

‘
Because.’ Filling a tray with cups and saucers, Edith again turned to her visitor. ‘Will you take her statement? I think I can trust you not to hurt her.’

*

By lunchtime, McKenna had learned only that Edith, faced with a situation beyond her control, harboured a reservoir of fortitude beneath the surface instability, and his estimation of her grew.

Barricaded behind her cat, its front claws spread over her knees like tiny portcullises, Phoebe punished his rebuke with monosyllabic, almost truculent, responses, and gave no further definition to the hazy picture of a family going about its usual business on a sweltering August afternoon, in complete ignorance of impending tragedy.

Then Mina came to sit beside the family solicitor in the cool airy sitting room, and, although inclined to be prejudiced by all he had heard to her detriment, McKenna still found himself half-enchanted by her. She was dressed simply, in pale blue jeans and a white T shirt, the corn-coloured hair held back from her face by two thin braids, obscuring the ears of which Phoebe was so critical.

‘
I was at work all day Friday,’ she said, her voice tentative. ‘I’ve got a holiday job with Merlin Security. They’ll tell you if you ask.’

‘
When did you last see Ned? Or speak to him?’

‘
I can’t remember. I went out with my boyfriend on Thursday night, straight from work. He works for Merlin, too.’

‘
Did you see much of Ned?’

‘
Not really. He only had meals with us.’

‘
Did you go to his room at all?’

‘
When?’

‘
Any time.’

‘
Mama made me take him a drink, sometimes. Or messages.’

‘
How did you get on with him?’

She glanced at the solicitor, then twisted her hands together.
‘I don’t know.’ She leaned forward, hair swinging around her face.

‘
Did you like him?’

‘
I don’t know. He could be a bit frightening.’

‘
Why?’

‘
Because he was old. His false teeth clicked when he talked, and sometimes, they made a sort of hissing noise, and you could see flying spittle in the sunshine.’ She shivered, wrapping her arms around her body. ‘And he seemed to be lots of different people inside one body, and you never knew which one you’d meet. Annie said his pain and illness made him like that. She didn’t mind. Phoebe didn’t, either, but I couldn’t know which person I was supposed to be with him. I couldn’t trust him.’ She looked up at McKenna. ‘Do you know what I mean?’

‘
Does it matter?’ the solicitor asked. ‘I can’t see the relevance.’

‘
Did you ever go into his room when he wasn’t there?’ McKenna persisted.

She flushed, then nodded, her whole body stiff.
‘What did you do?’

Twisting her hands until the knuckles whitened, she said:
‘It was like Annie and Phoebe were his own daughters, and I was someone who’d been left on the doorstep. He loved little Bethan, too.’

‘
What did you do?’ McKenna repeated.

‘
Mama said I was just trying to get him to notice me.’

‘
Mr McKenna,’ the solicitor intervened, ‘just what is your point?’

‘
I’ve been told Mina played tricks on Mr Jones.’

‘
What kind of tricks?’

‘
Interfering with his things, hiding his false teeth.’

‘
That’s a far cry from giving him drugs she knew would probably kill him, which is what I think you’re implying.’

‘
I’m trying to establish the nature of his relationships with everyone in this house, and elsewhere, and it seems his and Mina’s wasn’t very satisfactory.’

‘
He didn’t like me!’ Mina’s voice rose. ‘He never liked me!’

‘
Why not?’

‘
I don’t know! He used to upset me when I was little.’

‘
How?’