Chapter 19 - Another Monday
"Do we get to meet the elusive Councillor Clandecy today, I wonder?" remarked Detective Inspector Helford. So far all attempts to interview him had failed. He and Dean were at the police station in Frayminster, picking up the threads of the case before returning to Southcliff Hall in Pebbleton. Dean picked up the phone on Helford's desk and dialled the now familiar number. Mrs Clandecy answered, and to Dean's surprise immediately passed the phone to her husband when told that a police officer was once again on the line. Clearly she was tired of making excuses for him.
"Yes?" Clandecy barked.
"We would like to speak to you today, sir, and would appreciate it if you could come either to the station in Frayminster or to Southcliff Hall, whichever is more convenient for you."
"Neither is convenient, I am a very busy man," Clandecy replied pompously. "I will come to Southcliff Hall this afternoon, I have to see the Clerk anyway. I understand he is no longer the focus of your suspicions?"
"We have no need to interview him again at present, sir. He is not a suspect." Dean wondered if Helford would tick him off for saying too much, but his boss's head was bent over a file and he did not react.
"Then who is the chief suspect?" Clandecy demanded.
"I'm sure the inspector will talk to you about that himself later, sir. We'll see you this afternoon, thank you." Dean rang off before any more questions could be fired at him.
Helford looked up. "Motive, Dean - that's going to be the answer to this case. Steven Coulthard was a perfectly decent person, and unless you can believe that someone killed him and another man, just to make his wife available, we seem to have no sensible motive at all."
"I was right, then, about the plant by his front door?" Dean pointed out.
"The what? Oh, yes, that climbing plant - yes, Dean, you were quite right. He never intended to leave his wife, his home, or his garden. Highly unlikely he was gay, either. Somewhere in this file must be the answer, but I just can't get anywhere yet. We'll have to speak to his wife again."
They left the long-suffering Beavon with another long list of questions to be answered that day, and headed for the car. "Do you think the other body is this Joey?" Dean asked.
"I wouldn't be surprised, but then I've already fallen into my own trap in this investigation, haven't I?" Helford replied.
"What do you mean, sir?"
"I told you not to get too sidetracked by any line of enquiry, but I did just that with James Goswell. Wasted a load of time, and now I've got to start looking elsewhere for a chief suspect."
"I meant to ask you about that - why did you suddenly let him go?"
"You'll just have to trust me on that one, Dean. Certain information came to light which I'm not at liberty to disclose, but he's not our killer. Let's run through any other odd behaviour. Who can you think of?"
"Er, let's see," Dean mused. "I fancy Councillor Clandecy myself, given the vicar's comments. And he has tried to dodge being interviewed. I bet he wasn't really unavailable all that time."
"OK," Helford said slowly. "Anyone else?"
"Fiona Carvell? She mucked around with the employee files," Dean suggested.
"What do you think of Kim Coulthard?" Helford asked.
"Seems like a really nice person. Surely you can't be thinking of her as a suspect?" Dean frowned.
"Wouldn't be the first time a seemingly innocent wife has killed her husband - for a reason we may not know yet. But on the whole I agree with you - she was trying to get us to re-investigate her husband's disappearance, so that ought to mean she's innocent."
"You think it could have been a bluff? Knowing we'd find him?"
"Well, she is the one person connected to both sets of deaths. Chewter was trying to get fresh with her, and for all we know her husband could actually have been having a homosexual affair with Joey Fisher. Councillor Massington told her that, remember. Suppose she killed them both in a fit of furious jealously, and later she killed Chewter because he pestered her?"
"I hadn't thought of that. But how could she have dragged bodies into the basement, and built the breeze-block wall? There would have had to have been an accomplice."
"What about her buddies, that Sue Cheam girl, and the lady Councillor - whatshername?"
"You mean Councillor Rivers? Oh, come on, sir, I can't believe you really suspect them - or Kim Coulthard, for that matter."
Helford smiled. "Let's just say it could be a useful theory, if we need to keep someone off the scent."
Dean nodded. "Tell you what, we nearly had someone else in the frame the other day - DC Parliss was looking round outside Southcliff Hall and he thought they'd found cannabis growing in the flowerbed at the side. He was so excited, he was convinced he'd broken the case. I had a feeling it was a plant I'd seen before, so I got Harry Tanner to look at it. I remembered he'd been a bit cagey early on, and told that young lad off for saying too much. Well, he nearly died laughing. Apparently it's something called cleome, the Council use it quite a lot in the gardens. The leaves do look the same shape as cannabis at first sight, but smaller. It's started to flower now, so you can see for yourself."
"Well, at least young Parliss was on the ball," Helford nodded. I would have been just as suspicious, assuming I'd even noticed it!"
They parked in a bay in Southcliff Hall car park, and met James Goswell as they approached the entrance. He was walking out of the building, but on seeing them he turned around and spoke to D.I.Helford.
"Can I have a word, Inspector?"
They trooped upstairs and went into the Clerk's office. It was still at their disposal, and James sat on a visitor's chair. The Inspector went round the desk and took the black leather chair. James began.
"Something occurred to me yesterday, when we went to visit Kim in hospital," he said, looking pointedly at Helford.
"Ah, I take it you know that she identified her husband, then," Helford nodded.
"As one of the two extra bodies you found, yes," James agreed.
"We are releasing that information today. Go on," Helford said.
"I was with Sue Cheam and Paula Rivers, and we discussed the whole thing. Sue said that Steve Coulthard was a geologist, and it occurred to me that there could be a connection with the Development. I mean, we now have geologists crawling all over the place, and the Development has got to have something to do with all this. Someone set me up with that fake phone call just before the big meeting to do with the Development. I'm not explaining this very well, but do you see what I'm getting at?"
"Yes," the Inspector replied, and wrote busily in his notebook.
"One other thing - one of the locals reckoned that there was a river that once ran between the cliffs, and out onto the beach. He said that three prominent local landowners diverted it and it now runs underground. I'm no geologist, but I wondered if that had any bearing on what happened on Saturday. If it's true, and not just local legend. I'll leave it to you, then. I expect Fiona has a pile of work for me." James got up and made for the door.
"If you get any other ideas," Helford called out after him, "please let me know!" After the door closed Helford asked Dean to get an interview set up with the most senior geologist present in Pebbleton, and then they got busy reading all the reports that had come in over the weekend. There was little to go on, but it was obvious from the autopsies on all three bodies that they had been killed by the same gun and in the same manner. Taken by surprise, the men had met their end in a quick, albeit brutal fashion. "At least they didn't suffer long, and probably had no time to feel fear," Dean commented.
"Hmph, some consolation, I don't think - anyway, one of the first two must have been killed before the other, so the second one had time to be terrified," Helford reminded him. He could only imagine the panic experienced by the second victim, seeing his companion fall dead and waiting even a few seconds for the gun to be turned on him.
"Yep, I see what you mean," Dea
n replied, chastened. He stopped for a moment, imagining the terror - no escape, no time left to say goodbye to your loved ones - murder was unfair on a scale beyond every other crime.
They made short work of the reports, and Fiona Carvell was sent for. The inspector wanted to 'rattle her cage' as he put it. Dean left his boss to it, and went to talk to Sue Cheam. Miss Carvell sat in the visitor's chair, her back very straight and a look of restrained irritation on her sharp features. She gave brief unhelpful replies to his questions, and made no attempt to think when asked if she had noticed an odd behaviour on the part of her colleagues. Even when told that Kim Coulthard's husband had been found dead, she registered no shock or sympathy. "There is a third body, a male - who do you think that might be, Miss Carvell?" the Inspector challenged her.
She lifted her nose up and looked at him with distaste. "I have absolutely no idea, and it is none of my business, therefore I cannot comment. Presumably it is his lover, if gossip is to be believed," she concluded, blithely contradicting her own principles.
The long arm of the law felt a sudden urge to slap her for such heartlessness, but refrained. "Thank you for your help, you may now get back to your job." The only satisfaction Helford had derived from the interview was that it had annoyed her and interrupted her day.
Dean came back upstairs with a white-haired lady in tow. "This is Mrs Loxwood, sir," he explained, "the mother of Councillor Clandecy. She would like a word with you."
"Please sit down," said the inspector respectfully.
Mrs Loxwood perched herself daintily on the chair. She looked meekly at the officer behind the desk. "I'm afraid I've done a very silly thing," she began.
"Tell me," was the encouraging reply.
"My son phoned me earlier to tell me off, because he seems to be in some kind of trouble with the Council. Apparently I let slip to the vicar that some land of ours was sold recently, and now they are wondering if he should have made it known during Council meetings that he had a possible interest. In the Development, I mean - once the plan went forward, my land became worth a lot more. I must make it clear that it was my land, not my son's - does that make a difference?"
"Probably not, as I understand it. But perhaps you should be talking to the Parish Clerk, not me, Mrs Loxwood. These affairs are not really my realm of jurisdiction."
"I realise that, but he also said that you wanted to interview him about the dead body you found. My son is, I'm afraid, a fool, and married to a very materialistic woman, but I will defend him this far - he would never kill anyone. Anyway, he had no way of knowing if I would leave my money to him, so surely that means he has no motive?"
D.I.Helford gazed at the fragile figure before him. 'What mothers will do to protect their young,' he thought.
"I have yet to interview your son, Mrs Loxwood, and this is a very complicated business. You have made your point, and I thank you for your honesty. Is there anything else you would like to tell me?"
She shook her head, and began to rise unsteadily from the chair. Dean rushed forward to help her. "You must forgive me," she sighed. "I have a difficult day today - I have to see the vicar now, and say my piece to him. I only hope I can maintain a Christian disposition, for I must say I am not feeling very charitable towards him at the moment."
As she was leaving the room on Dean's kindly arm, she turned back and fired one more question. "By the way, they tell me Kim Coulthard is in hospital - is it true? I was hoping to see her, and ask if she would like to accompany me on a holiday. Poor girl, she had had a dreadful time of it - she could do with getting completely away from things."
Helford looked up in surprise. "You know her?"
"Oh dear me, yes - we met at watercolour classes years ago, and we've kept in touch ever since. Wonderful girl, even though we have so many years between us we get on so well. Will she be in hospital long, do you know?"
"I'm afraid I have no idea - but taking her on a holiday is probably a very good idea, she certainly could do with getting away from everything," the Inspector agreed.
After Mrs Loxwood had gone, Dean grinned. "Maybe you're right, sir - that little old lady is planning the getaway for Mrs Coulthard!"
"Sure, they're in it together - one fires the gun and the other bricks them up in the basement. But seriously, what did you make of that little interview?"
"I thought she was trying to get her son out of trouble. As any mother would, I suppose. And he would automatically assume he'd inherit, no question about it."
"Hmmmm. I got the impression that her son had tried to make her feel responsible if he gets into trouble. I won't be surprised if he's an overgrown child, not willing to take the blame for his own actions, that sort of thing," Helford mused.
"Sir, I spoke to Imogen and her friend Sue downstairs - they had something interesting to tell. They went to visit an old gentleman who often comes in here, because they hadn't seen him for a while. They found him in a dementia care home, put there by his relatives, though he isn't in need of that kind of care, according to them. And they recognised one of his relatives leaving as they were arriving. It was Mrs Wentley, the wife of Councillor Alfred Wentley. He told them that she is his sister, though he doesn't like her very much."
"This is all very interesting, but I fail to see what bearing it has....." Helford complained.
"Well, sir, they have this crazy theory - at least it may not be crazy -" Dean began, then stopped in confusion. Fortunately his boss had remembered the impression Sue Cheam made at the police station, and wanted to know any theory she had conceived. "Bring Sue Cheam up here, I want to hear this myself," he commanded.
Sue duly arrived, glad to get away from a particularly tedious pile of filing. She plunged into her story. "We think Cuffy - sorry, Mr Cuthbert Acres - is one of the last of a family who once owned land round here. We also think he's been put in this home to keep him quiet while his property is sold, or something like that. There were originally three rich families round here - there's a pub called The Three Squires because of them - and he looks just like one of them. His surname is Acres, you see."
The inspector scratched his head. "Three squires, you say? Would that be the same three landowners Mr Goswell was talking about?" He turned to his second-in-command and asked, "What were the three names that shopkeeper gave us, Dean? You know, on Edge Lane?"
Dean scrabbled through his notebook, and finally announced, "Clandecy, Monkford, Acres, sir."
"That's it!" Sue crowed. "That's them - and Cuffy thinks he has to help run the village, you see. You should have seen him in that home, it was awful. Surrounded by people drooling and snoring - and yet he was smartly dressed, upright, and eating properly. He walks round the place all the time to keep fit. He was under the impression that he was in some kind of army hospital, for his own protection. He said his relatives had told him that his home was under siege by terrorists, and he had to sign papers to allow them to defend his property. I've no idea what he really signed, but I'll bet it was a Power of Attorney. He told us his address, and we went past it on the way home. It's up for sale!" Sue finished triumphantly.
The Inspector sat looking at her for a while. Finally he spoke. "All right, Miss Cheam - you've been a big help, and we will look into this business, I promise you." When she had left the room, he mused aloud, "Clandecy, we have one of those coming in later. Monkford - apparently Mr Chewter was the last of that line. Now Acres - the last of them in a home, with his property up for sale. Land, money - so it all ties up."
Sue had wanted to ask so many questions, but she was obliged to trudge unwillingly back to her filing. The two policemen left the room after making a few phone calls, and set off in the car for Frayminster Hospital. They were permitted by the stern ward sister to spend a little while with Mrs Coulthard, who was slowly improving, though still mildly sedated.
Kim saw the two men approaching, and recognised them. She reluctantly sat up and rubbed her
eyes. As far as she was concerned, the worst news had already been given her, so anything else would be less painful, surely? The nurse insisted she get into a wheelchair to be taken to a quiet side ward for the interview.
"Mrs Coulthard, I'm sorry to have to disturb you again, and I hope you are doing a little better," Helford began kindly.
"Do you have news for me?" Kim mumbled.
"We had a call earlier confirming that the dental work of the second body, found with your husband's, does match Mr Fisher. We have also found out from Mr Fisher's landlord that he left his flat in a state which implied that he intended to return later that day. So we have to assume that they met up and were killed together, for the same reason, at the same time and in the same place. What do you think the motive could be?"
Kim stared woefully at the Inspector. "I just don't know, honestly - I couldn't say about Joey anyway, I didn't know him well enough. I can only speak for Steve, but I promise you he was the kind of man that everyone liked."
"Can you tell me a little more about the theory that Councillor Massington put forward - when exactly did he tell you he had heard from your husband?"
"It was the police who told me, about a week after Steve disappeared. They said they'd had information - but it took me a couple of days to ask the police where the information came from. Councillor Massington apologised for saying nothing earlier, and he was very kind.........I've thought about it over and over since you found Steve's body, and all I can think is that he must have misunderstood what Steve was talking about on the phone."
"Did he say how many times Steve phoned him, or when the phone calls were?"
"N....No," Kim replied slowly, "I think he was embarrassed for me, and didn't say much except to offer help and support. I asked him if Steve had said he was going to run away with Joey, and he just looked really sorry for me and said 'I know it's hard to accept now, but time will heal, and you will be able to move on,' or something like that. I took that to mean 'Yes'."
"I see," replied the Inspector. "I expect it will be in the original file. Has anything else occurred to you, anything that doesn't add up?"
Kim screwed up her fists and pushed them against her temples. "None of it adds up, don't you see? I could never really accept that Steve was gay, or that he'd leave me without a word. The fact that he was killed explains that part, but not why he was with Joey. He was a good husband - I remember one day, not long before he - left - I came home and found him with our wedding photo in his hands. He put it back on the wall, and when I asked why he said it was just a little lop-sided in the frame. He said it was the most perfect day of his life and he wanted the picture to be perfect too. I hadn't noticed it was lop-sided....." Her voice tailed off as her eyes misted over with tears.
"The only link between him and Joey was their jobs, I understand," Helford pressed gently. "You told us that Joey Fisher was working on the practical side as a geologist, while your husband was teaching the subject, is that right?"
Kim nodded. "They got their Geology degrees at the same university, but I don't see......they worked in totally different sectors. Joey was trying to go freelance, I think, or he'd just been sacked from a job - I'm not too clear on that. Steve was in the education sector."
"No idea who sacked Joey?" Helford leaned forward, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.
Kim shook her head. "I remember Steve seemed unsure whether Joey had been the 'author of his own misfortune', as he put it. He did say Joey had been rash, so maybe he meant Joey left a good job to go freelance.....but I thought he mentioned Joey getting sacked....I was probably half-listening, you know, concentrating on the dinner, or something. I wish I'd paid attention, asked him all about it, but it didn't seem important at the time."
Helford made a note to have a list of every item from Joey's flat sent to him, if such a thing existed. He would have to talk to Mrs Fisher again, a task that filled him with dread. She was not a woman who could deal with reality, and obstinately refused to help with any suggestion or background information. From the first, she seemed to take the news that her son had been gay as an accusation, a reflection on her as a parent. She disclaimed all knowledge of his life, his friends, his work - in fact, she had washed her hands of him since he struck out on his own and left the parental home. Helford wondered if her demanding and humourless personality, or the stifling atmosphere of the home she offered him, had contributed to making Joey the person he had become.
"May we come and talk to you again, Mrs Coulthard? I feel that somewhere in what we have discussed there is a clue - and more may come back to you. Please let me know if anything does?"
Kim nodded. She too felt that she must know, must have seen or heard something, that would make sense of this nightmare. She was getting fed up in the hospital, and wanted to go home and look around at everything with new eyes. Perhaps the answer was there, staring her in the face....
The policemen left her in peace and went to meet the geologist Dean had contacted earlier. They had been told that this was a Mr Theo Fitzwilliam, from the British Geological Survey. The eminent gentleman was a tall, gangly man with thinning hair and a bushy beard turning from ginger to grey. He met them at the cliff top where the landslip had occurred, and where his team were now taking samples and measurements. He turned towards them, with a hand extended to be shaken. Under his arm was a thin file.
"Fitzwilliam, BGS - call me Theo. You'll be wanting this, I suppose," was his opening remark, as he pushed the file into the hands of Inspector Helford. "Wish we'd pursued it now, but hindsight is an exact science, as they say."
The Inspector was mystified. He turned the file over and saw 'Pebbleton enquiry' scribbled in pencil on the front. "You've lost me - what is this?" he asked.
"Got an enquiry at the BGS about a year ago - had no resources to follow it up. We get so many reports - and that's without our own data coming in. Nearly three hundred tremors alone last year, you know, and that's without actual earthquakes and landslides. Dickens of a lot of work to chase them all up. Chap seemed qualified anyway, don't know why he didn't trust his own findings."
"Earthquakes? In Britain?" Dean couldn't help asking.
"Good heavens, yes - about every eight years we get a big one - mag five or over," was the throw away reply.
"Mag - magnitude five?" Dean breathed in astonishment.
Fitzwilliam snorted with laughter. "Don't worry, old chap - most of them are in the north-west. Different story there - Eurasian plate shifting in the Atlantic, of course. No, no - you don't get that this side. More of this sort of thing -" He indicated the offending cliff edge with a dramatic wave of his arm.
Helford, meanwhile, had opened the file with a growing sense of excitement. The first page justified this with the information that the enquiry had been made by a Mr Joseph Fisher, and requested data from any previous surveys of the Pebbleton area. The date of the enquiry was two months before Joey and Steve disappeared. A note on the enquiry form stated that a reply had been sent, inviting Mr Fisher to come to the British Geological Survey offices and do some research for himself.
The file contained little else, except a note that Mr Fisher had come to the offices and taken some copies of previous survey findings. "Did you meet Mr Fisher yourself?" Helford asked.
The bearded boffin, lost in thought as he viewed the fascinating groove in the grassy surface, jumped like a startled sheep. "Not me, was up Everest last year, base camp, lower slopes you understand - last chance to see the snowfields. Global warming, old boy - took a sabbatical, wanted to see a few things before they disappear for good."
"I see. How did this file come to light now, may I ask?"
"Got the call to come and look at your landslip - fantastic example, by the way - and checked our database for other enquiries. Also, the locals here are all talking about your spot of bother at the Council building - murder, wasn't it? When your underling called I had one of my lad
s copy it for you - thought you might be asking about it."
Helford wondered what Beavon would make of being called an 'underling'. "Thank you. Have you found anything unexpected here?"
"Too soon to make an official statement, I'm afraid. But off the cuff, I'd say only a lunatic would build anything here."
Helford's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"
"Good grief, man - the place is a disaster waiting to happen! Strictly off the record, you understand. You had rotten weather here last week, didn't you - lots of rain? Well, that helped to set things in motion. All that water gets stuck - non-porous clay partway down, it can't sink through that - some can seep out of the cliff face, but a whole lot at once will make the cliff top so heavy it overcomes the normal friction keeping it in place, and off it goes - see? Oh, and do what you can to keep the dratted fossil-hunters away from the undercliff - idiots will get themselves killed!" With that, the hirsute expert turned on his heel and marched over towards his subordinates. "I'll send a copy of the report," he yelled over his shoulder as an afterthought.
"Interview over, I suppose," grinned Dean. "But we didn't tell him about the river...." One look from his boss sent him running after the geologist, and Helford watched as there was a pantomime of pointing and gestures to indicate the theory that James Goswell had passed on.
"What did he say?" Helford asked when Dean returned.
"He said 'of course there was once a river after the last Ice Age, how did I think the gap had got there between the cliffs'. But I think he was interested in the idea that someone diverted the river over to the land on that side. It would mean that even more water was trying to get out of the cliff than just the normal rainfall effect. At least I think that's what he was saying!"
"Interesting," Helford muttered. "We'll have to wait for the official report, but it sounds like someone didn't do their homework properly before the Development was allowed to happen."
They returned to the car and sat poring over the file. Joey had given his contact details as 'Merringe & Sons Land and Chartered Engineering Surveyors' with a London phone number. Helford rang and enquired if they could help him with information on their employee. He was told that Joey had been employed for only a three-month contract, and had failed to complete this. He had vanished just two days before the end of his contract. They had tried in vain to make contact with him, and his mobile phone had been switched off ever since. "Do you have any idea who he was working for before yourselves?" was the next question. The helpful person at the other end promised to find out and call back.
"I have a feeling we are finally getting somewhere," Helford said quietly, with a determined smile.