Leigh Russell, page 12
‘One o’clock in the morning? He was fast asleep in bed. We all were. You can check the ring camera if you suspect he went next door and killed that poor girl. Jimmy knows he’s not allowed out on his own after dark.’
27
Serena’s parents were both dead and she had no siblings. It took the police a few hours to trace a solitary surviving relative living in Sheriff Hutton, less than half an hour’s drive north of York. Having arranged for Ian to pick Tom up from Zoe’s house after work, Geraldine drove out to see Serena’s aunt before making her way home. The sun had not yet set at the end of a bright day, and it had been unseasonably sunny for late autumn. Had she not been engaged in so sombre a mission, Geraldine would have enjoyed the drive. Not knowing how close Serena and her aunt had been, she found it difficult to relax and put her impending visit out of her mind.
Sheriff Hutton was a small village and she found Bernice Baxter’s cottage without any difficulty and parked outside. She zipped up her jacket before opening the door of the car because the bright weather was deceptively chilly and, once the sun went down, a mild autumn day could turn wintry in an instant.
A net curtain in a window beside the front door twitched when Geraldine rang the bell. A moment later, the door was opened by a diminutive grey-haired woman dressed all in grey. With her short neck, hunched shoulders and sleepy grey eyes, she looked like a tortoise. She clutched a woollen cardigan across her chest and stared up at Geraldine without speaking.
‘Miss Baxter?’
The old lady nodded her head and blinked myopically at Geraldine as she introduced herself.
‘Oh dear,’ Bernice said in a quavering voice. ‘Is something wrong? It’s not Terence, is it?’
Having assured the old lady that she hadn’t come about Terence, whoever he was, Geraldine suggested they went inside to talk. Bernice led her into a fussily furnished living room, with lace antimacassars on the armchairs and two-seater settee, and a host of china cats displayed on every available surface: the mantelpiece above a cast-iron fireplace, a shelving unit on one wall, and the window sill. When they were both sitting down and Geraldine had declined tea, she shared the sad news of Serena’s death as gently as she could, although there was no way to hide the ugly brutality of death. To begin with, Bernice didn’t seem to grasp what Geraldine was telling her.
‘Serena?’ she repeated. ‘My niece Serena? Has something happened to her?’
‘I’m afraid she’s dead,’ Geraldine reiterated gently.
‘Dead? Serena? Oh dear, oh dear. Poor Serena. She was all I had, you know. She was the only one left. There were three of us, you know, my two sisters and me. Poor Livy died very young, and then Alice, Serena’s mother, followed four years ago, and her Lenny went not long after. Serena was the only family I had left. And you’re telling me she’s gone too? Now it’s only me and I’ll be all on my own for Christmas. But what happened to her?’
‘Bernice, can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm Serena?’
The old lady gasped and her dark eyes opened so wide they almost seemed to bulge out of their sockets. She pressed a trembling hand over her thin lips and let out a muffled moan.
‘Are you saying someone deliberately did this to my poor niece?’ she asked in her quavering voice. ‘Was it that boyfriend of hers? That Martin? I warned her he was too old for her, but she’d lost her father, you see. She had me, but there was no one to take the place of her father.’
Geraldine was able to assert confidently that Martin hadn’t harmed Serena. She didn’t add that he too had been murdered and that he had been killed first. Instead, she repeated her question. Bernice shook her head and launched into a eulogy, according to which Serena had been generous, considerate, and hard-working, and it was impossible anyone could have wanted to harm her. Geraldine sighed. All she could do was reiterate her condolences.
‘I suppose I’ll have to organise another funeral,’ the old lady said bleakly. ‘There have been too many already. My cat just died, you know. She’d been with me for fifteen years.’ A solitary tear trickled down one of her wrinkled cheeks. She dashed it away with a tiny lace handkerchief and sniffed as though determined to pull herself together
As delicately as she could, Geraldine explained that Serena’s aunt would not be able to bury her yet, as her death was still being investigated. Bernice frowned on hearing that.
‘Investigated?’ she repeated. ‘What does that mean?’ She drew in a sharp breath and whispered. ‘So, do you think she was murdered?’
Geraldine inclined her head. ‘I’m very sorry to tell you we’re investigating that possibility.’
‘Oh no,’ Bernice replied, shaking her head vehemently. ‘No, not Serena. I can’t believe that.’
Ian didn’t criticise Geraldine for arriving home after Tom was asleep, but she sensed his silent censure. Telling herself it was probably just her own guilt making her uncomfortable, she made no attempt to justify returning home so late. Ian had dinner waiting in the oven and while he was dishing up, she stood gazing down at Tom sleeping peacefully in his cot. She wondered how it was possible to feel so sharp a pang of nostalgia at not being able to hold him, when she had cuddled him only that morning. Although she knew that, all things considered, it had been the right choice for her to return to work, there were moments when she regretted her decision so strongly she felt as though she had been kicked in the stomach.
‘I’ll make it up to you, little man,’ she whispered, although she knew she was the one who was missing out. Tom would have been perfectly happy to be fed and bathed by Ian. ‘Once this investigation is over, I’ll be able to spend more time with you, I promise.’
Tom stirred in his sleep and pursed his little lips and she sighed, knowing she had made the promise to herself alone.
28
Daisy barely acknowledged Nigel’s arrival. Silently she led him into her living room where they sat down opposite each other. He wasn’t surprised to see her face twisted in a bitter scowl. She didn’t offer him anything to drink, which suited him as he didn’t want to stay a moment longer than common decency demanded. Still, she was his sister, and he knew she was devastated by their father’s sudden death. Apart from Nigel, she had no one. At least he had his wife for company.
‘I’ve come to see how you are,’ he murmured, already regretting having come to see her.
‘How do you think I am?’ she retorted. ‘How would you feel if the police thought you’d killed our father?’ She scowled at him as though he was to blame for the accusation that had been levelled against her.
‘I’m sure they don’t really suspect you,’ he muttered awkwardly.
‘They hauled me off in a police car and accused me of murdering him. And you’ve done nothing about it.’
‘What do you expect me to do?’ he asked, taken aback by her reproach.
Noticing a whiff of stale body odour, he squirmed uncomfortably on the chair, wondering how soon he could leave. It was always the same with his sister. He would go to see her determined to be charitable and kind, but it was never long before her needling started to irritate him.
‘You’re not listening to me,’ she whined. ‘I told you before, you need to stop the police pestering me.’
‘And how do you suggest I do that?’
‘I don’t know, do I? You’re the clever one who can do whatever you want, with your job and your wife and your nice house. Your life’s all sorted. Why can’t you do something for me, for a change? I can’t even afford to pay a lawyer.’
‘I’m paying for a lawyer for you,’ he protested.
‘He’s useless. You’re my brother. You need to get on with it.’
‘What exactly do you think I can get on with?’ He was almost laughing in his exasperation.
‘You have to complain. Complain, and keep complaining until they stop persecuting me. I don’t know, tell them I’m innocent and they’ll be sued for wrongful arrest if they don’t leave me alone.’
‘What do you mean?’ He knew it was a mistake to ask as soon as he heard himself utter the words.
‘What do I mean?’ she screeched, her face turning a darker shade of red. ‘Are you serious? Just stop and think and tell me honestly how long you think you’d last if you were being hounded by the police like a common criminal. I know my home isn’t exactly the height of luxury, not like yours, but it’s my home, and I want to stay here. You know they locked me in a stinking cell like an animal in a cage. You have to tell them it’s outrageous. You can’t ignore what’s happening. Oh, it’s all right for you, you can go back to your expensive flat with a concierge and a view and stylish décor and a wife to do your bidding. You can go back to your self-indulgent life and forget all about me, but what am I supposed to do?’
Nigel looked away. He had heard Daisy’s envious gripes so often he no longer paid any attention to them.
‘Are you listening to me?’ she persisted. ‘I’m telling you, I can’t stand it. The cell they put me in was disgusting. Everything was filthy. I could hardly bear to touch anything. It stank. And as for what I had to use as a toilet—’ She broke off with a shudder. ‘This is supposed to be a civilised country. I wouldn’t lock an animal in a cage like the one I was kept in. I could have died in there and no one would know. You wouldn’t care.’
She scowled when Nigel counselled her to be patient.
‘You do realise I was paying rent for my flat while I was stuck there? How is that fair?’
‘Come on, you were only there for a few hours. You’re home now and I’m sure that’ll be the end of it. You have to admit Higgs has done a good job,’ Nigel said, ignoring his sister’s complaints. ‘He came highly recommended. He worked for Chris Robinson.’
‘Who the hell is Chris Robinson? What are you on about?’
‘Chris works with me and he used this man Higgs when he got himself into a spot of bother. Chris said he was excellent, well-mannered and sharp as they come. I know you wouldn’t have wanted some jumped-up young know-it-all representing you.’
‘So you sent me a doddery old fool who doesn’t know his arse from his elbow. He must be ninety if he’s a day. He’s so ancient, he kept falling asleep.’
‘Well, I hardly thought you’d be easy to satisfy,’ Nigel replied, stung into retaliating.
‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’
As she spoke, Daisy jumped up from her chair and seized a bottle from the mantelpiece. She raised it above her head, and just for an instant he was afraid she was going to clout him.
‘Sit down, for Christ’s sake, and stop behaving like an idiot,’ he snapped. ‘You’re making me nervous.’
‘I’m making you nervous? Ha! Well, isn’t that just typical. It’s always about you, isn’t it? Everything’s always about you. Well, just for once, how about thinking about my feelings for a change? I’m the one who’s being pursued by the police.’
Still grumbling, Daisy lowered the bottle and sat down again.
‘They’re hardly pursuing you,’ he pointed out. ‘You’re back home, aren’t you? So, other than him being old, how are you finding the lawyer? You have to admit he got you out in double-quick time. You haven’t thanked me yet for getting him to you so quickly. It wasn’t easy, you know. I do have other things to do than run around after you.’
‘Thank you very much for taking a moment out of your busy schedule to make a phone call.’
‘I hope you’ll be very happy with him,’ Nigel retorted, too angry to try and control his temper any longer.
Daisy shook her head but didn’t answer. As he had expected, she was wary of going too far, knowing she needed Nigel to pay the solicitor’s bill, not to mention her other expenses. He had never let her down before. After all, he was her brother and she was his younger sister. She had always known she could rely on him. Even so, he resented the hold she had over him. His wife had always nagged him to cut her loose, but Daisy was the only family he had now.
‘Why don’t you just walk away from her?’ Carol had asked him, on more than one occasion. ‘I know she’s on her own and unhappy, but that doesn’t alter the fact that she’s malicious, and all she’s ever done for you is make your life a misery. You have to put a stop to all this right now. You’ve put up with her whining and hectoring for long enough. All you’ve done is support her and what has she ever done for you? I don’t want to be unkind, and goodness knows I feel sorry for her, but you need to stand up to her. You don’t have to listen to her spiteful jibes. She’s a miserable bitch and you owe her nothing.’
He looked anxiously at his sister now, slumped on a chair, and he felt a tremor of pity. But his wife was right. He had to stop allowing Daisy to dominate him with her constant nagging and claims of victimhood. It was not his fault her life was wretched. There was nothing more he could do for her; she needed to change.
‘I just called in to see how the lawyer was doing,’ he mumbled, and stood up to leave.
Daisy was on her feet again. ‘No,’ she said. ‘You can’t leave me like this. I need to know what’s going to happen to me. This isn’t fair. I didn’t do anything.’
Nigel turned to look at her, noticing her sweaty face and fraught expression and wondered if she was telling him the truth. He did his best to control his irritation but really, he didn’t know what more she expected him to do. He had spent some time on the phone persuading Mr Higgs to take on the case. Daisy was right, in a way, because the lawyer had told him he was planning to retire soon, and he had been reluctant to take on the job. Nigel had only been able to secure his services by agreeing to pay over the odds. He hadn’t yet told his wife how much it was costing.
‘I’m doing what I can,’ he assured her.
‘Well, it’s clearly not enough,’ she replied. ‘You have to do more.’
Nigel felt uneasy. Suddenly he felt he would suffocate if he stayed a moment longer in that musty room. Muttering that he had to get back to work, he hurried away.
29
A remnant of frost remained on the ground as Geraldine left home to drop Tom off at the childminder, but the weather was milder and the roads were not icy even at that early hour. It was only November, but Ian was already talking about what they were going to do for Tom’s first Christmas. Geraldine had laughed at that, because Tom was too young to have any idea what was happening, but Ian insisted they were laying down memories for him and Geraldine didn’t want to spoil Ian’s enjoyment of their time with the baby. Meanwhile, she was too focused on her work to have time to think about having a Christmas tree.
The only development discussed in the early morning briefing was that the VIIDO team had unearthed CCTV footage of John, captured on a security camera near Union Terrace car park at eleven twenty two nights before Martin was shot. An indistinct figure could be seen hurrying away from him. The film was being enhanced as much as possible, after which it would be subjected to analysis. Binita was impatient, but the process was going to take time, and despite the best efforts of the IT department, it might offer no clue to the identity of the woman who had purchased a gun from John.
They had sent Daisy home for the night before summoning her back to question her again.
‘Perhaps a night in a cell would have loosened her tongue,’ Binita said, although no one really believed that particular suspect would weaken easily. If anything, she seemed more likely to dig her heels in and complain even more stridently.
Even though they hadn’t kept her, Daisy looked as though she had spent a miserable night. Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin had a grey sheen. She sat with her head held high, her expression surly, defiant rather than cowed. The lawyer sat beside her, frowning irritably, but he spoke mildly.
‘Are you going to charge my client?’ he asked.
‘What are you talking about?’ Daisy blurted out. ‘You’re supposed to defend me.’ She muttered at him under her breath, her expression sour. ‘Don’t encourage them, for Christ’s sake. Do you want them to charge me?’
‘There is no case against my client,’ the lawyer continued phlegmatically, ignoring her outburst. ‘It seems you’re trying to build a case on the fact that my client didn’t get on with her father’s girlfriend. It’s understandable,’ he went on quietly. ‘Daisy told me the victim moved in with her father shortly after he lost his wife, my client’s mother. Naturally she and her brother felt aggrieved. But you have no proof she has committed any crime and everything you’ve said so far is pure speculation.’ He leaned forward. ‘Inspector, you know how this works. If you have any evidence against my client, you need to state it clearly, now, and give her an opportunity to refute your allegations before this goes any further. If there is genuine doubt about her innocence, charge her formally and then we’ll all know where we stand. Otherwise, you must stop this harassment and let her go.’ He paused for an instant. ‘There is nothing to be gained by dragging this out. We all know you have no evidence against my client or you would have charged her by now. Let her go.’
Daisy nodded and grinned. ‘That’s more like it. You heard what he said. Harassment, that’s what this is.’ She remained adamant that she had done nothing to harm Serena. ‘I hated her. Of course I hated her. She was a gold-digger. She seduced my father just so she could get her hands on his money. Why wouldn’t I hate her? I’m glad she’s dead. But I didn’t kill her.’
The lawyer was right. Unless they could find evidence that would build a plausible case against Daisy, they had to let her go. Having made no progress in the interview, Geraldine decided to look into what Daisy had been doing on the night Serena was killed. After speaking to Binita, she drove to Daisy’s address off the Holgate Road. On this occasion she parked right outside the house. It was an unseasonably warm afternoon, and even though it wasn’t a particularly prepossessing street, it was pleasant to be outside and she lingered for a moment to gaze at a late-flowering shrub in one of the gardens and then up at the clear blue sky. A few small white clouds drifted across the expanse of pale blue, looking like balls of fluff. Despite the bright sun having cleared the last of the frost, there was a hint of approaching winter in the air and she was glad she was wearing a fleecy jacket.
