Chapter 21 - Councillor Wentley
Dean grabbed the photocopies from the signed register as he left the room. He could have a quick look at them while he waited for the kettle to boil. Sue was back upstairs and saw him emerge from the room after Clandecy left. She pounced and followed him to the staff room. "Hope you gave him the third degree," she grinned. "I'll do coffee for you - three mugs?"
"You know I can't tell you anything, but if you notice anything with those sharp eyes of yours I want you to tell us immediately, all right?" He realised that this was a genuine concern now, not just the smooth line he had given Imogen at the start of the investigation. They were dealing with someone ruthless, so a smart lady like Sue who could use her eyes and brain could get into danger if she tried to find things out by herself. "No amateur sleuthing, please. I'm not joking..." He looked down at the papers in his hand.
"Don't worry, I'm not stupid," Sue assured him. "What've you found?" She pretended to lean and look over. Dean held the papers to his chest. "Oy!" he exclaimed, but couldn't help smiling.
As it happened, he had been surprised to find that only two names appeared in the register at the appropriate time. Councillor Denby had signed in at one-fifteen, and had failed to sign out. Councillor Massington had signed in at two-fifteen. There was no record of Councillor Clandecy at all that day. He folded the sheets and tucked them into his pocket. "Tell me, could anyone get past Reception without signing in and out?" he asked.
Sue put her head on one side and considered. "Probably, but they'd be seen on CCTV. Imogen and I could have a look if you like?" She picked up the tray and headed for the door.
"I'll have a look later, don't you go getting yourselves involved," he commanded in a voice of authority. He took the tray of drinks from Sue's hands and walked along the corridor to the Clerk's office. "Thanks, and no, you can't come in," he grinned.
Sue pulled a face at him, and went back to the now slender pile of filing. She had been churning all the possibilities over in her mind ever since the phone call from Imogen which cut short her holiday mood so abruptly just a few days ago. She had her own way of looking at things, and in her estimation it all came down to nastiness. Every member of staff and every Councillor had been processed through her internal 'likeability' filter, and she had come up with a list of probables, and one or two possibles. But without a few facts to go on, she had no way of getting any further. Frustrated, she decided to call on Kim at home as soon as the hospital let her go. Steve Coulthard, a decent and most unlikely murder victim, had to be the key.
Councillor Wentley stumped up the stairs and presented himself at the door of the Clerk's office. The Inspector welcomed him in graciously, and thanked him for his co-operation. Any observer would have thought that a friend had been invited for a cosy chat, and that was the impression Helford intended to give. Dean brought in the coffee, and the door was shut.
Helford's opening tactic was to ask for assistance in getting the history of Pebbleton clear. "Why don't you ask the History Club - how should I know anything?" was the unhelpful reply. Dean watched Wentley's face, and noticed the hard lines running down either side of the mouth, which was set in a perpetual expression of discontent.
Helford tried again. "I understand your wife is one of a long line of landowners round these parts, or rather the family once owned land. Is that not correct?"
"My wife doesn't own any land, never did," came the mutinous reply.
"Her family, the Acres, once owned quite a bit of land, though. Of course, I understand it would have been handed down through the male line, so I suppose she missed out......"
"Damn right she missed out, her idiot brother got the lot," snarled Wentley. Then his mouth snapped shut, as if he had not intended to give information, and that last remark had slipped through the net.
"What a shame. You and she could have had such a lovely house. The one your brother-in-law lives in, that is for sale I understand - don't you want to buy it from him, keep it in the family?" Helford's voice was all sympathy and understanding.
Wentley looked at him from under brows of suspicion. He now suspected that Helford was on to him, and knew a great deal more. He said nothing.
"Well, as I understand it, your brother-in-law is quite well now and on his way home, so he may take it off the market."
Wentley started in his chair, and looked at Dean. Fortunately Dean kept his face impassive. Wentley thought for a moment, then glared at the Inspector. "I suppose this is your doing?"
"Mr Acres may have information which is material to this investigation," Helford replied, placid and ambiguous.
"It's nothing to do with me, my wife deals with everything to do with her brother."
"Ah, I see, so you feel that no conflict of interest could attach to you - unlike Councillor Clandecy, who is in serious trouble because he neglected to declare an interest during the Council discussions over the Development. That was necessary for him to do, you see," Helford continued as if educating a child, "because his mother planned to sell some property. That property went up in value as soon as the Development was passed, and was duly put on the market. You, in a similar way, could be said to have had an interest, bearing in mind your brother-in-law's property went on the market after the Development began, and enjoyed a similar rise in value."
Wentley shocked the two officers by lurching up out of his chair, leaning over the desk and shouting in the Inspector's face, "Rise in value? Rise? It's practically worthless now! It's right in the worst possible place, you fool! Don't tell me I should have declared an interest, I wasted all that effort pushing the Development through for nothing - do you hear me - nothing!"
Astonished at this outburst, Helford sat very still, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the face of the furious Councillor. The veins pulsed on Wentley's forehead, and he breathed so hard it sounded as though he would hyperventilate. Suddenly he flung the chair from behind him and yanked the door open. Dean looked at his boss and made as if to stop the escape, but Helford raised a hand and shook his head. The door slammed behind the angry man. Footsteps thumped down the corridor and faded away down the stairs.
"Do you think he's our man?" Dean asked. "He's certainly got the temper for it."
"Well, the murders were planned, not done in the heat of anger. Mind you, he certainly gave himself away in that outburst."
"Gave himself away?" the younger man looked puzzled.
"He said his brother-in-law's property was right in the worst possible place. Obviously he knew there was a problem before the landslip. Think about it - the slippage is only visible on the land leading to the cliff edge, so why would he assume that a property nowhere near there would be in a bad place?"
"Where exactly is the old man's house? And is it really true that he is coming out of that home?"
Helford grinned. "Rattled him good and proper, that, didn't it? I suspect Miss Cheam and her chums will see to it that Mr Acres is re-assessed, if I read that young lady correctly. So although I may have been a little premature, I reckon the result will be the same. Anyway, you're right, we need to know where the house is, and find out from the geologists what the problem is."
They left the Clerk's office and headed for Sue Cheam's desk, where she was enjoying a surreptitious chocolate bar. She smirked at them, wiping her fingers on a tissue, and remarked "Well, I have done all the filing up to date, so I deserve it!"
"Miss Cheam, I would like some information from you, could you make a space in your busy schedule to have a chat soon? And I need to know the address of your elderly friend, Mr Acres."
"Sure, I can take you there if you like. In fifteen minutes I can leave, I've got time off in lieu because of the work I did at the Extreme Sports. Then you can ask me whatever you want!"
Helford realised that Sue wanted more than anything to be in on the investigation, and he was prepared to indulge her just a little. "I can wait fifteen minutes - very well, if you don'
t mind being seen with two members of the force, you can direct us there and we'll talk on the way."
Turning to Dean, he added, "We can check progress back at the station in the meantime."
Back in the Clerk's office, Dean frowned. "Are you sure it's a good idea to have her with us? She's desperate to play cops and robbers, and she doesn't realise how dangerous it could be. Supposing the murderer thinks she has information and decides to put her out of the way?"
"She does have information, Dean. She's a canny lady, and notices more than she realises. The safest thing is for her to be seen telling us everything - then there's no point silencing her, do you see?"
"Oh. Yes, OK. As long as she's safe."
Helford looked curiously at his colleague, but Dean was lost in thought, frowning at a point in space.
After checking Beavon's progress, and making copious notes on lines to follow up from the Clandecy and Wentley interviews, they collected Sue. On the way through Reception, they asked for the CCTV recording of the day of the Council meeting to be preserved. Imogen's wireless mouse began clicking away diligently, as she peered at the CCTV display to the left of her work screen. "Do you want it saved as a separate file?" she asked. "That will be perfect," Helford replied.
"We'll take a look at that tomorrow," he told Dean as they headed for the car. Sue saw the plain saloon and pouted. "Oh, boring - I thought you had a proper police car," she laughed. "I wanted to be seen being dragged off in style!"
Dean smiled and opened the back door. "Would you like me to handcuff you, just for effect?" he inquired.
Sue gave him a cheeky grin and bounced into the back seat. Helford sat in the front passenger seat and asked her for directions. It was an easy route, as the house lay about a mile inland from the cliff where Saturday's drama had taken place.
"Miss Cheam, I simply want your view on all the staff in Southcliff Hall, and all the Councillors. Start wherever you like, and take your time."
"You must have read my mind," Sue exclaimed, "I've been running them all through my head while I did the filing. I've come up with a list of probables and possibles, would you like me to give you those first?"
"As you wish, but I will ask about everyone, no matter how unlikely."
Sue began. Her favourite suspect was Councillor Wentley, closely followed by Councillor Clandecy. She had worked out for herself that they could both be in trouble for non-declaration of interest, and viewed their deliberate deceit as highly suspicious. "They should have told the other Councillors, you see, as their views were prejudiced," she explained.
"Yes, I understand, but is there anything else about them that makes them suspects?"
"They are both bad-tempered, and they both love money. Wentley hasn't got any, I don't think he ever had, but Clandecy did once. He's got a frightful wife, all botox, salon blonde and fake tan. She's been surgically enhanced to a double 'D' too - oops, sorry, officer, I hope I didn't shock you." This last remark was directed at Dean, who had not been embarrassed at all, but who now began to go red to the tips of his ears.
"Anyway," Sue continued, "she spent all his money and wants more. The local beauty places aren't good enough for her, she wants to go to London, and you should see her clothes - designer labels, but she still looks like a tramp, if you want my opinion."
"I shall feel sorry for her husband, if you carry on," Helford replied mildly. For a second Sue thought he was serious, but then she caught the twinkle in his eye.
"Go on, interview her and see what you think - I bet you decide the same. Anyway, those are my two favourites, and I have a funny feeling that Perilous Gerald was in with them, but somehow he got on the wrong side of them so they bumped him off."
"You think the two Councillors were working together? What makes you think that?" asked the Inspector, who had a very similar theory.
"Wentley is too unstable, he gets carried away in a temper. I often have to take the minutes in Council meetings, and he loses control over the tiniest little thing. On his own he couldn't do it, he'd mess it up. So I thought maybe Clandecy was his partner in crime, because he's a cool customer and he has the sort of background where people got rid of their enemies as an everyday thing."
"Could you explain what you mean?" Helford prompted.
"His family once owned Southcliff Hall, and he's never let us forget it. Swans around the place like he owns it, and we are dirty peasants trespassing on his land. Sometimes I imagine him with a shotgun over his shoulder, striding around taking potshots at anyone who gets on his nerves. You know, the honour of the Clandecys, and all that nonsense."
"I'm afraid it won't stand up in court, Miss Cheam," the Inspector sighed.
"Please, call me Sue. Well, I know, but you asked my opinion. I can't really think of anyone else who is that foul to other people. Everyone here is either polite or else really nice and friendly, so I find it difficult to imagine them committing murder."
They had arrived at the house, and Dean pulled on the handbrake and switched off the engine. A 'For Sale' sign from a local estate agent was hammered into the ground behind the neat white picket fence. The two officers climbed out, and Sue opened the back door of the car. Dean hesitated, but as Helford made no comment he helped Sue out and kept close by her, as if protecting her from some unseen assailant. They pushed open the little white-painted gate, and crunched up the shingle path to the handsome oak door. The Inspector wielded the heavy black door knocker, remarking "Just in case Mr Acres has discharged himself..."
To their surprise the door opened, and a thin upright woman of advanced years gave them all a quick and severe glance over before saying, "Somerley's sent you, I suppose? I wish they would remember to ring and tell me first! You'll have to wait a minute." She shut the door abruptly, and the three visitors stood looking at each other. 'It's Mrs Wentley,' thought Sue. 'If I let on I recognise her, these two will send me back to the car in case she recognises me.' Covertly she pulled some of her fringe over her face. Dean remarked "She thinks we're here to view.....it must be Wentley's wife. What a way to treat prospective buyers!"
After a long pause, the woman opened the door again. She stood back to let them in, and as they passed her one by one to stand in the poorly-lit hallway, she surveyed them carefully.
"For you, or your son and his wife?" she asked, addressing the remark to Helford. Sue suppressed the urge to giggle, and instead gazed adoringly up at Dean, who looked slightly afraid.
Helford smiled at her, and replied, "I am the one interested, Mrs - Wentley, isn't it?"
"Yes, that's right." She smiled back at him, but it was a forced effort, and failed to reach her cold, hard eyes.
As she began to show them round the rooms, Helford gently probed to see what he could get from her. "How long have you lived, here, Mrs Wentley," he asked innocently.
"I'm afraid my husband and I are having to sell it for my poor brother, as he's gone into a home," she simpered.
"I'm so sorry to hear that. His health is failing, I suppose?"
"Yes, he couldn't manage on his own any longer," she replied absently, straightening a picture on the wall. It was a sepia photograph of a group of young men in uniform, leaning on what looked like a World War Two tank. Helford suddenly froze, and stared at the picture. Dean realised that his boss was on to something, and distracted Mrs Wentley with a remark about the size of the room.
Within a minute Helford was back with them, and commented on how clean and tidy everything was. "Yes," my brother was always a very precise man, almost annoyingly so," she replied with a false little laugh.
Sue, under her breath, hissed to Dean, "She just said he couldn't manage on his own, for Pete's sake." Mrs Wentley heard the hiss but not the remark, and turned on Sue. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" she snapped.
Sue squinted, and quickly pulled more of her hair over her eyes. "Don't think so, I've just got one of those faces," she mumbled. Mrs Wentley had attended a
couple of functions at Southcliff Hall, where Sue would have been on duty with teas and coffees, or running around with certificates to be presented.
"I do like the garden," Dean declared loudly, crossing to the window, "did your brother have a gardener?"
"Oh, are you interested in gardens?" Mrs Wentley replied, moving towards him and leaving Sue to heave a sigh of relief. The conversation turned to gardens, and room aspects, and they trooped upstairs to take a look at the bedrooms.
"Excuse me, may I use your bathroom?" the Inspector asked. She looked rather put out, but could not refuse her potential purchaser. He was given permission and disappeared, leaving Dean and Sue to play their married roles. They noted all the rooms with approval, and Sue couldn't resist having a bit of fun. "It's a shame we can't afford this, darling," she said sweetly, catching hold of Dean's arm. "Your dad will love it here, I'm sure, but I'm quite falling in love with it myself. Oh, well, I suppose on your salary at the greengrocer's and my dinner-lady wages, we haven't a hope...."
Dean winced. He was certain that if Sue drew attention to herself, Mrs Wentley would recognise her properly. He glared at her and grumbled, "Well, you've only got yourself to blame, Petunia, you had a perfectly good job at the cattery and you gave it up."
Mrs Wentley sneered at them and turned away, bored with the foolish young couple and only interested in the buyer who was taking a long time in the bathroom. She lovingly fingered the silky eiderdown on the bed, and dreamed of what she would do with the money. If only, if they could just sell the place before anything was revealed about the reason for the landslip......she must grab this opportunity with both hands, and not let this man go without impressing upon him what a wonderful house it was. And she'd throw into the conversation a few fictitious buyers, nothing like a bit of competition......it must, it must be sold quickly.
Behind Mrs Wentley's back, Sue stuck her tongue out at Dean, and he wagged a finger at her in reproof. "Be quiet," he mimed at her.
Helford returned, and remarked kindly on the beautiful bathroom fittings. "We'll just take a look outside, if that's all right, and then we must be getting on."
This set Mrs Wentley off on a lengthy discourse on the virtues of the house, and a list of the other keen buyers lined up to purchase it as soon as they could sell their own places. They had a job to get away from her in the end, and it was another half hour before they finally escaped. She waved them off with another ghastly smile, and they waved back as if departing from their dearest friend.
"Greengrocer, indeed," Dean complained, as they reached the junction with the main road back to the village. "Cattery," Sue retorted. "Petunia!" Dean countered. Sue burst out laughing, until Helford swivelled in his seat and enquired if the happy couple had suffered their first marital spat. He then suggested going to a quiet place where Sue could continue her recitation of suspects. She invited them both to her flat, and offered them some of her home-made fruit cake. The deal was done.
A little later, happily full of cake and tea, Helford and Dean had a list of opinions Sue could offer them on most of the staff and Councillors. Helford spotted some omissions. "You've told us about every member of staff except Fiona Carvell, what do you think of her as a suspect?"
"No, she just couldn't commit murder, it would be too - improper. She would simply cringe at the thought of messing up any part of Southcliff Hall, for a start - and she'd have forty fits at the idea of going to prison."
"Most murderers never imagine they will go to prison, they always believe they are too clever to be caught," Helford reminded her.
"Really? I'd be sure I'd be caught, just think of all the things that could go wrong!" Sue exclaimed. "Have I missed anyone else?"
"Just one other person - Councillor Massington. You must have seen a great deal of him, what are your views?"
"Hmmmm, you know I've tried to come to a conclusion about him but I don't feel I know him at all. He's always very polite, and gives all us girls a box of chocolates at the end of the municipal year - but he never really has a conversation with you, if you know what I mean. He asks things, and we find out what he needs to know, but....I can't explain it, but he never lets on what he's thinking. Perfect control, I think that's it. He never loses his temper, and I suspect that's how he gets the others to go along with whatever he suggests. Oh!"
"What?"
"Well, I've just realised he does get the others to do what he says....cool! Maybe that's why......well, I once heard Kim remark that Dennis Massington practically is Pebbleton Parish Council. I wondered what she meant, but I think I get it now. He has such a huge influence over the others. They all know he's got so much experience from his city job, and they respect his opinion more than anyone else's."
"But is he a nice person?" asked the Inspector, in a casual tone.
"Yeah, I guess - well, he's not nasty to anyone. He doesn't need to be, they will do what he wants anyway. I suppose....come to think of it, I don't know what he would do if anyone really disagreed with him. It doesn't happen. Pebbleton's such a small place compared to London...I wonder what he's like in his city job? He must have to deal with more ambitious people there, not like the little folk in this village, who all go along with his suggestions. Yes, that's what I would say about him - a big fish in a little pond."
The Inspector sat looking at her for a few moments, then closed his notebook without writing anything else in it. Sue was a little disappointed, as she wanted to have helped in the investigation. 'He probably thinks I talk a load of rubbish,' she decided.
"Thank you for your help, Miss Cheam - Sue - we had better get on now. The tea and cake was much appreciated," he assured her.
Dean rose from the sofa and smiled at Sue. "Yes, it was lovely," he agreed.
She saw them off with a cheerful "See you tomorrow," and closed the front door. As she washed the plates and mugs, she felt strangely deflated. It had been fun going round Cuffy's house, but somehow her rambling opinions had put the Inspector off, and now he and Sergeant Dean would have no desire to hear more from her. She smiled a little as she remembered Dean's "Oy!" as she tried to look at his sheet of paper in the staff room. She sighed. Nice young policemen were out of her league, she'd be better off chasing a real greengrocer's assistant. That particular line of work had sprung to mind because it was the occupation of the last man who had taken an interest in her - a spotty mother's boy of twenty-three, who begged her to go to the cinema with him to see a James Bond film. Pearce Brosnan was still in the lead role, it was that long ago.......