Chapter 7 - More Bad News
Jeff Dean rapped at the door of Kim Coulthard's attractive modern home. He and D.I. Helford stood looking up at the climbing plant over the door frame. Long orange-red tubular flowers hung in rows among dark-green sprays of leaves. "Nice," Helford remarked.
"Window's open - should be in," Dean muttered.
Nothing happened, so they called out her name over the gate at the side of the property. From the back garden came a voice, "Hello?"
They identified themselves, and she quickly came through the house and opened the door. She looked expectant, almost excited, though she wasn't smiling. Helford was puzzled.
"Mrs Coulthard, were you expecting a visit from the police?" he asked.
"Well, you've got some news about Steve.....haven't you?" Now it was her turn to look puzzled.
"May we sit down, Mrs Coulthard, and then we can enlighten each other. We seem to be at cross purposes."
She led them to the cool lounge at the back of the house, where there was a good view of the pretty garden. Jeff Dean, who was a keen gardener himself, appreciated the delightful way that the rectangular space had been broken up by curved beds, with paths winding along to disappear behind tall plants. She saw him looking out and said "I was just weeding when I heard you call out. My husband does - did - the garden, and he would hate it if all his hard work got ruined and overgrown. I try to keep it tidy, but I'm not really a gardener." She heard herself prattling on, delaying whatever news they had come to tell her.
"I take it Steve was - is - your husband?" Helford enquired gently.
Kim turned in amazement, and stared at him. Then she shrugged, and said, "I suppose you don't tell each other about cases. It was an Inspector Fielding who was dealing with it - Steve disappeared last year, at the end of October. The police took it very seriously until - well, until there was a development, and they closed the case. But to be honest, I wasn't satisfied - sorry, I know it's a colleague of yours. But you see, I didn't believe the explanation then and I don't believe it now. I thought you might have some news for me."
"I see," said Helford slowly, and took out his notebook. "I'd like to just take a few details, Mrs Coulthard, and I promise you I will take a quick look at the case again. Not that I would tread on Inspector Fielding's toes, you understand, but he has gone to join the West Yorkshire force, so I'm sure he won't mind if I have a little peek."
Keith Helford's warm manner had its usual effect, and Kim felt she was in the capable hands of a policeman who might actually get some answers. She sat down in an armchair, and gave him the details he wanted. That done, she frowned at the two of them and asked "So what does bring you here?"
Dean thought to himself that she was either a good actress, or was genuinely ignorant of the chaos going on at Southcliff Hall. Helford cleared his throat and began: "You went down to the basement of Southcliff Hall today, Mrs Coulthard, and reported to the Amenities Manager that it needed looking at. Please tell me in your own words exactly what happened."
Kim looked baffled. She told him of the new girl's interest in the old tunnel, and their trip downstairs.
"You have the key to the archive room door, the one with the tunnel?"
Kim's curiosity was aroused. He knew the difference between the two archive rooms in the basement - what on earth had been going on?
"Yes, I have the keys for both of them - I occasionally have to look up some old records for financial details. I am the RFO - Responsible Finance Officer."
Helford made a note, knowing that Dean was taking full notes as well. "Who else would have the key - to that room I mean?"
Kim thought for a moment. "Let me see, the Clerk would, his secretary, and Harry - that's the Amenities Manager, and, er - no, not the cleaners, they don't clean beyond the door to the basement. It's hardly ever used, you see. I'm not sure if anyone else would have a key."
"Thank you. Now I have to ask some rather painful questions, Mrs Coulthard, which may seem irrelevant, but please answer as fully as you can. When was the last time you saw," he hesitated and consulted his notebook, "Gerald Chewter?"
Kim's eyes opened wide in amazement. "Gerald Chewter?!" she almost spat the words out. "What on earth - well ok, I'll do my best to remember. I suppose it would have been his last day at work, back in....December, I think. He did come in to Southcliff Hall once or twice after that, but I didn't see him to speak to. Just in the distance, going in or out of James's office, I can't remember."
"Were you on good terms with him, when he left the job?" Act dumb, thought Helford.
"Hardly. I was probably the reason he resigned. He was trying to - well, he was - sexually harassing me, and he'd done it to another member of staff before. So he was asked to leave." She spoke candidly, and sat waiting for the next question.
"I see, and he left without bearing a grudge against you?"
"A grudge? Well, he didn't seem to have any ill-will to me in particular - he almost ignored the whole thing, come to think of it, as though he had more important things on his mind. Yes, I remember the last thing he said to me that it was 'all very trivial', but I suppose he was just trying to make out that I'd exaggerated."
"He didn't even seem that worried by being asked to resign," Kim continued. "I thought that he used his mother's illness - she had cancer at the time, and died a few months later - otherwise there would have been a bigger fuss. I mean, he should have been sacked rather publicly. Councillor Denby and Councillor Massington were all for prosecuting him, given that he'd picked on me when I was going through all that upset with my husband's disappearance, but they decided to be lenient. I didn't want to go that far anyway, I just wanted to see the back of him."
"Thank you, that is helpful. Now can you tell me who was in the building when you left work today?"
"Um, everyone, I suppose, because I left five minutes early to run to the post office. I had a few urgent letters and I couldn't get them finished in time for the post run."
"What is your opinion of your new boss, Mr - er - Goswell?"
"Mr Goswell? He's fine - no problem with him, we get on and he lets me do my job. Please can I ask what all this is about?"
"In just a moment, Mrs Coulthard. Please give me your opinion of Mr Tanner. I gather he wanted to oblige you by sorting out the problem you had reported to him."
"Did he? Oh, that's sweet. Harry is a dear, he pretends to be a grumpy old cuss but he's really lovely. So he had a look in the basement, is that what you're telling me? "
The two officers sat looking at her, trying to detect any anxiety or fear. They saw nothing except normal curiosity. The prolonged silence gradually had an effect on her - she turned from one to the other, and a look of dread crept over her face. "What are you trying to tell me......." she whispered.
"A body was found," Helford said quietly. "Perhaps you have an idea who's....."
"Oh......Steve....." she moaned softly, and her eyes rolled upwards as she fell back in the armchair.
The men rushed forward, and Jeff Dean checked her pulse and breathing, thanking his recent first-aid refresher course. Helford hovered awkwardly, then went to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen.
"I think she's coming round - she thought you meant her husband, sir."
"Yes, I'm aware of that, Jeff," replied his boss, lapsing into familiarity in his embarrassment.
Dean was on a roll. "She must think he could be dead instead of just disappeared," he whispered. Helford gave him a warning look and said "Ok, ok, let's get her comfortable, shall we - that's the second person we've knocked out in one evening. That Clerk was almost out for the count - I've never seen anyone go that green around the gills."
Before long Kim revived her senses, and they helped her drink some water. "I do apologise, Mrs Coulthard," said Helford sincerely, "I had no idea you would spring to that conclusion. We have no reason to believe that at all."
"Then who......?" Kim murmured. Helfor
d looked at Dean, and nodded. Just to be on the safe side, he'd let someone else tell her the news.
"We have reason to believe that it is Mr Chewter, though we will not be making that official until we have confirmation," said Dean. "It is important to get as much information as soon as possible. We have reason to believe that he was....murdered." Jeff Dean watched her before he continued. "So we had to see you tonight, Mrs Coulthard. Tomorrow it could be all over the village."
She stared at him with her mouth open, and for an awful moment he thought she was going to pass out again. But her mouth twisted into a querying grimace. "Wha......" was all that came out.
"I quite agree, Mrs Coulthard," Helford assured her, gently removing the glass from her drooping hand. "Why, What with, Where, Who - these are the questions we will be trying to answer. Now, I think we have troubled you enough. Is there someone you could call to come and be with you? You've had a nasty shock."
The words were familiar to her, and reminded her of another day, another police Inspector, and another horror. She shook her head, and put her hand out to Helford's sleeve. "Please," she urged him, "you will take a look at my husband's case, won't you?"
Helford nodded. "Don't worry, I promise to get the file and read it as soon as possible. You understand, I will be tied up with this case for some time, but I want to eliminate the possibility of any connection. Your husband didn't work for the Council, did he?"
"No, he was a teacher. At Frayminster College. Geology," Kim mumbled, feeling disappointed. For some reason she had thought that D.I. Helford would put his energies into finding Steve, but now it seemed he was making excuses.
"Are you all right? Do you want us to call a friend for you?" asked Dean kindly. Kim shook her head again, and promised that she would get to work early the next day to organise any paperwork they might need to look at in their investigation.
They let themselves out of the house as the sun sank lower, casting golden fingers of light through the leaves of the poplars lining the street. Back in the car, they discussed the unexpected development of Kim's own unsolved mystery. "Do you really think it's got anything to do with this?" Dean asked. "You seemed pretty keen to look into it."
"I hope I'm horribly wrong, but I have a bad feeling about it. She's an attractive girl, and men don't often run away from decent wives. They have affairs, sure - they cheat on their decent wives, who find out and divorce them - but they don't often leave without warning."
"It does happen, sir - my cousin's husband ran off, and it was five weeks before she found out that he was in Frayminster, living with a barmaid."
"Exactly, Dean - she found out in five weeks. This lady hasn't heard anything of her husband in ten months. Bit odd, don't you think?"
"I'll tell you what's odd - the climber over the front door."
Helford looked confused, so Dean continued: "It's a Chilean Glory Flower, Eccre-something. Flippin' difficult to grow. I tried to get one going, and they're very sensitive. If her husband grew that, babied it over the winters and waited for it to flower like that over the door - well, I wouldn't go anywhere, I'd be so proud."
Helford sometimes found Dean's logic a little weird, but he supposed he had a point. "So you think keen gardeners would put plants above romance? That is supposing the husband was having an affair. She never specified what Fielding found out, did you notice?"
Dean nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. They were coming to the end of the small seaside estate where Kim lived. "Where to now, sir?"
"We should see Fiona Carvell tonight if possible, she lives just a little way from Southcliff Hall. Back up to the coast road, then left just after Southcliff Hall road."
"Edge Lane, you mean, sir? That's where Chewter lived. So she lived near him...."
"Yes, she lives just off there, Edge Close. Number seven. And stop making wild connections, Dean, just drive us there."