Leigh Russell, page 9
‘And he was so much older than her, all she had to do was wait and it would all have come to her in time anyway,’ Ariadne added.
‘Do you think Daisy could have been angry enough about Martin’s will to have wanted revenge? She and Nigel were expecting to inherit a small fortune each. It must have been a big disappointment to them.’
‘Perhaps Daisy killed her father because she was angry with him for seeing a young woman so soon after her mother died,’ Ariadne said. ‘Was she jealous of Serena for taking her father away?’
‘Or was she angry with him because she had found out he had changed his will in Serena’s favour?’ Geraldine added.
They gazed at each other for a moment, nonplussed.
‘If she didn’t know about the new terms of the will, she might have killed him to prevent him changing his will,’ Ariadne added.
‘We’re going round in circles. We’ll have to question Serena again,’ Geraldine said at last. ‘And I think we should look into Daisy’s alibi very carefully. She seemed very keen to accuse Serena, didn’t she?’
‘You suspect Daisy killed him,’ Ariadne replied, almost triumphantly.
Geraldine shrugged. ‘Honestly, I don’t know what to think. It could have been Daisy or Serena, but it could equally well have been someone else, someone we haven’t even considered yet.’
‘What about Nigel?’ Ariadne asked.
‘And there’s an ex-wife, isn’t there?’ Geraldine added.
She had worked on murder investigations with no obvious suspects and others where there was a confusing number of suspects. She wasn’t sure which was more difficult to resolve.
‘We certainly have a lot of plausible suspects,’ Ariadne said, sharing Geraldine’s thoughts.
19
She had gone through a worrying few days, but at last everything was getting sorted out as it should be. She didn’t have to wait long for the locksmith who turned up within minutes of the agreed time. Tall and lean, he displayed brilliant white teeth in his tanned face when he smiled. He worked quickly, and she was soon inside the familiar house, slightly surprised at how easy it had been to gain access. She had prepared a story about losing her bag and wanting to change the lock in case anyone found her missing keys and tried to use them, but the locksmith had nodded and set to work before she had said more than a few words. She had even come armed with a copy of the will proving her ownership of the property, but the locksmith hadn’t once questioned her right to enter.
‘Easily done,’ he had commented when she told him she had lost her keys. He hadn’t questioned her wanting to have all the locks changed, front and back, in case someone found her keys and broke in. Within a matter of minutes he had the front door open and it wasn’t long before he had fitted shiny new locks, front and back, and handed her the keys, together with a spare set. She paid him and closed the door behind him, grinning with relief. Daisy had locked her out and she had responded in kind. If Daisy tried to enter the house again, she was in for a shock. Serena’s next task was to have the burglar alarm serviced, so that no one could get away with changing the lock again. Martin had left the house to her, and she had no intention of letting anyone take it away from her.
After popping out for some milk, she made herself a leisurely cup of tea before turning on her phone and researching burglar alarms. Having booked an urgent appointment, she went upstairs to see what Daisy and Nigel had stolen or thrown out. Expecting to find some of her belongings were missing, she wasn’t surprised to discover her jewellery had vanished. It was annoying, but there was not much she could do about it, and no point in making a fuss. What was gone was gone. None of it had been particularly expensive, although some had sentimental value: an attractive glass bead necklace Martin had bought her in Venice; a cameo brooch she had taken a fancy to in Covent Garden in London; and a silver replica Viking bracelet bought right there in York, all of which brought back memories of happy times spent with Martin. With a sigh, she remembered how he had liked to indulge her.
The only really expensive items of jewellery he had given her were a diamond and pearl ring which she never took off, and a matching pendant which she had fortunately been wearing when Daisy and Nigel had made their crass attempt to lock her out of her own house. She would have been sorry to lose those diamonds and pearls, not only because of their monetary worth, but because she genuinely liked them, and she knew that reclaiming them from Martin’s children would have taken more than a simple change of locks. She was sorry about the rest of her jewellery, but she would never give Nigel and Daisy the satisfaction of knowing they had got their hands on anything she wanted.
Apart from her jewellery, on a first look around she couldn’t see anything else missing. All her clothes still seemed to be there. She went downstairs. Feeling slightly guilty, she went into Martin’s study. Even though they had lived together, she had never been in there without him. Somehow the opportunity had never arisen. He had been generous to her and the last thing she had wanted was for him to suspect her of poking into his affairs. Despite knowing she was alone in the house, she stole quietly into the room and closed the door softly behind her before going over to the desk, glancing around as she rattled the drawers. There was nothing of interest in the lower drawers, just random items of stationery and a tin of mints, but the top one was locked. After a moment’s hesitation, she went to the kitchen for a knife so she could try to force it open. Thinking better of her initial response, she went up to the bedroom and searched his bedside cabinet where she knew he hid his spare set of keys. At the back of the bottom drawer she found them, concealed beneath a few folded handkerchiefs.
The smallest key on the ring fitted the drawer of Martin’s desk. Gingerly she turned it and the drawer slid open. It was empty. Either he had emptied it himself, or someone else had been there before her. She locked the drawer again and sat down on the large swivel chair behind the desk. It swung very slightly under her weight. She planted her feet on the floor to steady it. The chair was comfortable, if too big for her. When she leaned back, her feet didn’t reach the floor. Seated, she gazed around the room with a tentatively proprietorial air. Everything she could see belonged to her: the solid wooden desk and strong swivel chair, the cabinets and bookshelves, and the soft thick rug. She wondered what use she could make of this room. Martin’s belongings would have to go. Without the desk and Martin’s old books, the study could be turned into a cosy sitting room. She would feel more at ease there once all signs of Martin had been removed. It was gradually sinking in that he had gone and everything in the house now belonged to her. The house was hers. She was startled out of her reverie by a ring at the door.
Serena recognised the woman gazing steadily at her.
‘Good afternoon,’ the dark-haired inspector said, with a solemn smile, ‘I’d like to ask you a few questions. May I come in?’
Talking to the police was the last thing Serena wanted to do right then, but she could hardly refuse.
20
Serena led Geraldine past the grandfather clock in the hall. Today the tall vase was empty of flowers. Only a scummy green ring indicated where the water had reached. Clearly no one had bothered to clean the vase when the flowers were thrown out. Serena took Geraldine into the living room, sat down and gestured towards a chair. Although it looked impressive, Geraldine found it too large for comfort. When she sat back in it, her feet didn’t reach the floor. Ignoring the opulent surroundings, which were somehow oppressive, Geraldine focused on the glamorous woman sitting in front of her. She had changed the colour of her hair from blonde to a soft brown, which Geraldine thought suited her. Other than that improvement to her appearance, she looked less attractive than when Geraldine had seen her last. Her face was haggard, her eyes were slightly swollen from crying, and she seemed to have aged, perhaps because her shoulders were bowed and she was wearing no make-up.
‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Geraldine said gently. ‘But I’m afraid I need to ask you a few more questions.’
Serena stared straight ahead without giving any response.
‘When did you start working for Martin?’ Geraldine asked.
‘What difference does it make now?’ Serena replied dully. ‘What difference does anything make?’
‘We want to enquire into your background so we have some context for what has happened.’
Serena wriggled awkwardly on her chair, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘This is about context, is it?’ she enquired scathingly. ‘Do you really think I don’t realise this is because of her?’ she demanded.
‘Her?’ Geraldine echoed. ‘Who are you talking about?’
‘She’s accused me, hasn’t she? You must know who I mean. I’m talking about his daughter, Daisy. She told you it was me, didn’t she? She accused me of killing him to divert attention away from herself because it was obviously her. Why else would she be trying to make you think it was me? I would never have hurt him. I loved him,’ she added, with a theatrical tremor in her voice that made Geraldine wonder if she was lying.
‘So,’ Geraldine resumed. ‘I understand you only started working for him a few months ago.’
Serena nodded. ‘We met almost exactly six months ago,’ she said, and sighed, with a distant look in her eyes.
Geraldine pressed on. ‘How did you meet him?’
Serena sighed. ‘Oh very well. You might as well know. It’s not like it’s a big secret. We met at a business convention. We were both in the bar, on our own, and we got chatting. He told me he’d recently lost his wife, and I was on the rebound from a miserable relationship that had dragged on for far too long. We were both lonely. But it was all perfectly innocent. We just had a drink together and we hit it off. I mean, we really got on, and then we discovered we lived near each other. I liked him a lot. Anyway, after the convention he called me and took me out for dinner, and one thing led to another. We were both adults and there was no reason to wait. I was bored in my job, so when he suggested I go and work for him, I jumped at the chance.’ She smiled sadly at the memory. ‘I told him there was no one I’d rather have as my boss and it was true. That was when he told me his personal assistant was getting old and he thought it was time she retired. It seems she had an issue with his IT system that was causing him all sorts of problems, and he said she was resistant to the changes he wanted to make. So we started talking about change and how meeting people can sometimes change your life. And that was when we realised we had feelings for each other.’ She sighed and dabbed delicately at her eyes.
‘And how did you come to be living here?’ Geraldine enquired. She didn’t add that it seemed rather sudden.
Serena shrugged and looked slightly awkward. ‘You might think it all happened very quickly, but the truth is, we fell in love. Who can explain that? I can’t. All I can tell you is that it happened.’ Her expression darkened. ‘His children didn’t like it, of course. They always resented me. He knew about that. We both did. They made no attempt to hide their feelings, even though it was making him unhappy. But he wasn’t going to give me up. He said they’d come round in the end.’ She paused. ‘They suspected I was up to something, but if you ask me, she’s the one who’s responsible for what happened to him.’
‘What do you mean?’ Geraldine asked.
‘It’s obvious it was Daisy. She always hated me and she said she would do anything to stop me getting my hands on his money. That’s why she killed him.’ Serena smiled sadly and blinked as tears spilled out of her eyes. ‘She killed him to stop him changing his will, but she was too late.’
‘Are you saying Martin’s daughter killed him? I understand you’re upset, but do you have any evidence to support your accusation?’
Serena hung her head and didn’t answer for a moment. When she looked up, her eyes were blazing, reminding Geraldine of Daisy’s fury when she had spoken about Serena.
‘Martin’s daughter,’ Serena hissed. ‘She’s a liar. She’ll tell you how close they were, but I can tell you she’s caused him nothing but trouble all his life. You’ve met them, haven’t you? His charming children? Nigel’s as self-centred as they come, and he thinks he’s really clever. You must have seen that for yourself. He’s a pompous spoiled narcissist who thinks only of himself. But he’s nothing compared to Daisy. She’s a real piece of work. She’s selfish and sly and you can’t believe a word she says. I don’t even know if she realises when she’s lying. I think she’s so used to making things up, she can no longer tell the difference between truth and falsehood. She invents whatever reality she wants and changes it all the time to suit her version of the world. She’s a pathological liar and she’s malicious with it.’ She paused for a second, her eyes dark with anger. ‘It’s obvious she killed Martin herself, and now she’s trying to put the blame on me. Seeing me go down for her crime would be ideal, as far as she’s concerned. It would be the perfect end to her mission to be revenged on both Martin and me. And all we did was fall in love. I hope you’re going to question her properly.’ She hesitated as though she wanted to say more but wasn’t sure how to go about it. ‘You need to question her,’ she said finally. ‘Question her again and keep questioning her until she confesses.’
Geraldine waited, but Serena didn’t say any more. ‘What were you doing on the Sunday night when Martin was killed?’
Serena had dropped her face in her hands, sobbing quietly, but at the question she looked up, her expression suddenly hard. ‘I’ve already been to the police station and told them what I was doing that night,’ she said. ‘Do I need to go over it all again? I have nothing new to add. You know I was on my own that night and there’s no one who can confirm my whereabouts. But I wasn’t here. You can arrest me if you want, but I’m not the one who killed him.’
There was not much point in continuing. Reiterating her condolences, Geraldine stood up.
‘Don’t you think I would have arranged an alibi if I’d wanted to kill him?’ Serena asked. ‘I could easily have persuaded some lonely old man to lie for me.’
Serena smiled sadly and, just for a second, Geraldine glimpsed the alluring woman who had won Martin’s affections. It was true, Serena probably could have persuaded a vulnerable man to lie for her and provide her with an alibi. The trouble was, it wasn’t clear if she was lying now.
21
Geraldine had asked a colleague to look into Dorothy McIntosh, Martin’s former personal assistant. Her colleague told her that Dorothy had retired and had left York, but she hadn’t gone far and had been traced to the nearby village of Heslington. The following morning, Geraldine recorded her intentions and went to find her. It was less than two miles to her destination so she didn’t bother to call ahead. If Dorothy was out, she would try again the next day. She drove slowly, watching out for icy patches on the road. It had begun to snow, a light fall that wasn’t settling, but was enough to make the roads potentially hazardous. Finding the address she wanted, she stepped carefully on to the frosty ground and made her way slowly to the front door of a small terraced cottage which opened directly on to the pavement. There were two bells, indicating the property had been divided. Clearly Dorothy had downsized from her rented house in York after losing her job, and now lived in a first-floor maisonette. Geraldine wondered how she felt about that.
A round-faced woman with greying hair opened the door. She smiled anxiously and asked how she could help. When Geraldine introduced herself and explained that she was investigating the death of Martin Reed, Dorothy’s expression altered. She asked for a closer look at Geraldine’s identification and insisted on calling the police station to verify a detective named Inspector Steel had been sent to see her. Only then did she invite her in. Geraldine had the impression she was nervous rather than sceptical. The front door opened into a small sitting room, with a low two-seater settee and a couple of chintz-covered armchairs. The furniture was too bulky for the room and had presumably been moved there from a larger house, but the chairs were comfortable.
When they were both seated, Dorothy told Geraldine she had worked closely with Martin for nearly twenty years.
‘Were you happy working for him?’
Dorothy didn’t answer directly straight away. ‘He was a good man, and a good boss,’ she replied instead, lowering her gaze. ‘There was a complaint about him, but that goes with the territory when you’re the boss. There are always people who grumble and think they can get something for nothing, but I worked with him for a long time and he was always very fair. He was always fair. Yes,’ she said, finally looking up to answer the question, ‘I was very happy working with him.’
‘But you left your job?’
Dorothy nodded. ‘That wasn’t entirely my decision,’ she muttered. ‘Martin decided to let me go.’
‘How did you feel about that?’
Dorothy hesitated. ‘Well, of course I was disappointed. After years of hard work, no one wants to be thrown on the scrap heap. I was a good employee, never missed a single day. But things are different these days, aren’t they? Martin wanted to change everything, to have it all done on the computer, and I wasn’t able to cope. It’s all so complicated. The system’s supposed to do everything for you, but you have to understand how to enter the data in the right way and in the right order, and how to get it to print out the reports you need, when he asks for them, and it just wasn’t for me. If I’m honest, I found it all very confusing and very stressful. It’s easy for young people. They’ve grown up with computers, but I struggled. It’s partly a generational thing and partly just my own ineptitude.’ She sighed. ‘I’m afraid I resisted the changes. I don’t blame Martin for getting rid of me. I don’t blame anyone for what happened. It’s just the way it is. Things change and life has to move on. And I dare say I was beginning to lose my grip anyway. I suppose we all become complacent eventually. Set in our ways. Maybe the change was the right thing for the company, but it didn’t do me much good.’ She shrugged and gave a wry smile. ‘I had my way of doing things that was no longer acceptable.’
