Once Too Often Read online

  But surprisingly, Lineham wasn’t there.

  Thanet checked what had come in. A neighbour who regularly walked his dog at that time had been returning home at about twenty past seven on Tuesday evening and had seen Desmond Manifest set out on his walk ‘as usual’. This backed up what the landlord of the Harrow had told them.

  Much more interesting was the fact that Kevin Barcombe apparently hadn’t arrived at Sally’s, the nightclub, until around 8.30. The doorman was a client at Snippers and knew him by sight. He remembered the time because he was keeping a close eye on it; his mother had been rushed into hospital that afternoon and he had been told he could ring and inquire how she was any time after 8.30 p.m. Kevin had been the last person to come in before he made the phone call.

  Thanet sat back and thought. Kevin claimed not to have left home until 8.15, but Thanet was much more inclined to believe his mother, who said he had left at 7.45. Thanet worked out a possible scenario: Kevin drives to Charthurst, arriving at about eight. By this time Ogilvy would be cosily ensconced in the Harrow with his wife. Kevin parks at the pub and takes up his post behind the hedge opposite the Manifests’ house.

  Then what?

  Say Jessica had fallen or been pushed down the stairs during a quarrel with Ogilvy and say Ogilvy had not shut the front door properly behind him as he claimed. Manifest had said that the catch was faulty. After a few minutes Kevin realises that the door is ajar. He goes to investigate, discovers the body, phones for an ambulance and leaves. Yes, the timing of the phone call would be right, and if he left immediately Kevin would have been back in Sturrenden in time to have arrived at the nightclub at around 8.30.

  Alternatively -

  ‘Sorry I’m late, sir.’ Lineham arrived, out of breath.

  ‘Nice lie-in, Mike?’

  ‘Very funny. It’s my mother. She rang before breakfast, said she’d had one of her “turns”. I had to go and check.’

  ‘Of course. Was she all right?’ Mrs Lineham’s ‘turns’ had haunted Lineham throughout his working life, had almost prevented him getting married at all. It was tempting to believe that she was invariably crying wolf but she was getting old and one of these days no doubt it would be serious, even fatal. In the very nature of things it would be the one occasion when Lineham decided to ignore her cry for help. He simply couldn’t risk it and Thanet sympathised.

  ‘Yes. It was just a dizzy spell. It had more or less passed off by the time I got there.’

  ‘Good. Listen, Mike.’ Thanet related the scenario he had just visualised, studying Lineham as he did so. The sergeant looked tired, exhausted, even, with deep pouches beneath his eyes and a grey tinge to his skin. Perhaps he should speak to him about his dilemma after all. He didn’t want to interfere in what was, after all, a private matter, but things couldn’t go on like this. On the other hand, Lineham was still functioning efficiently. Thanet could hardly take one late arrival as an excuse to broach the subject in view of the fact that Lineham was almost invariably at his desk before anyone else and never complained about late hours or extra duty. No, he would have to wait. If Lineham started slipping up, then that would be a different matter.

  The sergeant was nodding. ‘Yes. It could have happened like that. But if Kevin was there, there’s no reason to think he didn’t do it himself. Say Ogilvy left the door open, Jessica didn’t realise, Kevin saw his opportunity to get in, and took it. Jessica is in her bedroom, hears footsteps on the stairs, comes out, sees Kevin, gets frightened –’

  ‘Et cetera et cetera. Quite. Yes, it’s possible, I grant you.’

  ‘Anything else come in, sir?’

  ‘The PM’s been confirmed for this morning, that’s all.’

  ‘So, what next?’

  ‘I was thinking . . . I’d like to get a bit more background material. Did you get the address of that schoolfriend of Jessica’s – what was her name? – from Louise?’

  ‘Barnes, sir. Juliet Barnes. Yes, I did.’ Lineham fished out his wallet and extracted a slip of paper. ‘She lives at Ribbleden. But if you want to see her this morning, she works as a chiropodist in the town.’

  ‘How convenient!’

  The morning meetings conducted by Draco’s deputy were always brief and before long Thanet and Lineham were stepping out into the sunshine. Another bonus of this case so far, Thanet thought, was that a number of the witnesses worked in the town. He sometimes felt he spent half his working life driving around and it was pleasant to walk along Sturrenden’s picturesque High Street occasionally acknowledging a smile or a hand raised in greeting. By now it was virtually impossible for him to take even the shortest stroll through the town without seeing someone he knew.

  The chiropodist’s practice was based in a terraced house just off the High Street. The receptionist, a prim starchy woman in her mid-fifties, was not amused at the prospect of having Mrs Barnes’s list of appointments disrupted and it took patience, persistence and diplomacy to convince her that they really did need to see her employer as soon as she had finished with her current client.

  Juliet Barnes herself was a different matter and without hesitation ushered them through into her surgery. ‘Aren’t you married to Louise Stark?’ she said to Lineham as they went.

  ‘Yes. You were at school together, I believe.’

  ‘That’s right. I see her around occasionally.’

  ‘So she said.’

  ‘It’s about Jessica Manifest of course, Mrs Barnes – Jessica Dander, as you knew her,’ Thanet said, as soon as the door was shut behind them.

  ‘Yes, I heard what had happened. It’s dreadful, really dreadful.’ She was tall and well built, statuesque almost, with broad high cheekbones, shining blonde hair cropped short and earnest hazel eyes. She was wearing a white medical coat and exuded an air of professional efficiency. ‘Do sit down.’ She waved a hand at the only two chairs in the room and propped herself against the windowsill.

  She waited until they were seated, then said, ‘But why on earth have you come to see me? I haven’t seen Jess in years. Well, I’ve seen her, of course, round and about, but we never used to meet on purpose or spend time together.’

  ‘We’re trying to fill in on Mrs Manifest’s background, actually,’ said Thanet. ‘And we understand that you and she were close friends, when you were at school.’

  ‘Yes, we were, at one time. But you know what it’s like when you’re young. You drift in and out of friendships; some last and some don’t. Ours didn’t, I’m afraid.’

  ‘We’re thinking particularly of the year you took your O levels,’ said Lineham.

  ‘My goodness! That’s – what? Twenty years ago now! It hardly bears thinking about!’

  ‘I know,’ said Thanet, smiling. ‘But if you could cast your mind back . . .’

  ‘I’ll try. What do you want to know?’ She shifted uncomfortably against the window-ledge and Lineham stood up. ‘Wouldn’t you prefer to sit down?’

  She smiled at him. ‘Very well. Thank you. Though without wishing to be unhelpful I do hope this won’t take too long. I have a full list of appointments this morning and if I fall too far behind I won’t get a lunch break.’

  ‘We’ll be as brief as possible,’ said Thanet. ‘If you would cast your mind back, then, to that summer, the summer when you were sixteen. You and Jessica were friends at that time, I believe?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Now, we understand from Sergeant Lineham’s wife that Mrs Manifest – we’ll call her Jessica for convenience – was very bright, and you all expected her to stay on at school to take her A levels and go on to university, that in fact everyone was surprised when she left school that summer.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true. I was as surprised as anyone. I mean, she’d made her A-level choices and everything.’

  ‘So what happened, do you think? What made her change her mind?’

  ‘I really don’t know.’ Juliet’s forehead creased as she frowned, remembering, and her eyes narrowed as if she were peering into t
he past. ‘All I can recall is that when school broke up at the end of that summer term I was looking forward to doing all the usual things with her – playing tennis, swimming, going for bike rides and so on. Jess was especially keen on swimming and during the previous Easter holidays we’d gone every day. But for some reason she went cold on me and whenever I rang up to suggest we go out she had some excuse ready. I was really upset about it at the time and I’d just decided I wouldn’t bother about her any more when she rang to say she was going to stay with an aunt in Bristol for the rest of the holidays. Then she wrote to say she loved Bristol, it was a great city, and she much preferred living with her aunt than with her sister and brother-in-law – and who could blame her? – and she’d decided to stay on there.’

  ‘Why do you say, “who could blame her?”’

  ‘She couldn’t stand him. Her brother-in-law. What was his name? Bernard.’

  ‘Why not? Any particular reason?’

  ‘Have you met him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, there you are then. He’s a creep, isn’t he? And that stink, those perpetual cigarettes . . .’

  ‘Was she going to continue her studies in Bristol?’

  ‘I don’t know. But I do know that things went wrong. The aunt fell ill, so much so that Jess couldn’t cope alone and Madge – that’s Jess’s sister – had to go and help look after her, even had to stay over Christmas. Bernard went to join them over the holiday, I believe. Anyway, when the aunt got better Madge came back but Jess stayed on. And then, a month or two later, the aunt had a relapse and died unexpectedly so Jess came back to Sturrenden.’

  ‘To live with her sister again, I presume.’

  ‘At first, yes. But Madge’s baby had arrived by then and I think Jess felt a bit de trop. She landed herself a dogsbody job on the KM and as soon as she was earning she moved out into a bedsit in Maidstone. You had to hand it to her. She really worked her socks off – went to journalism classes at nightschool and slowly climbed the ladder until she was a fully fledged reporter. You had to admire her for that.’

  An inflection in that last sentence made Thanet say, ‘I sense a reservation there.’

  She grimaced. ‘Yes, I suppose so. To tell you the truth; one of the reasons why we lost touch is that I decided I didn’t particularly like her. She was very ambitious, of course, nothing wrong in that, but she became much too materialistic for my taste.’

  There was no point in asking her to elaborate. Thanet didn’t want to waste her time and he felt that she had told them as much as she knew. They thanked her and left.

  ‘Interesting,’ said Thanet as they emerged on to the street.

  ‘Yes. I wonder –’ Lineham dodged to avoid a young woman with a pushchair and Thanet saw that it was the Ogilvy’s nanny, Chantal, with Daisy bundled up against the autumnal chill in bright red bobble hat and miniature ski-suit.

  He seized his chance and minutes later they were seated in one of Sturrenden’s many teashops, ordering coffee. ‘I hope we’re not holding you up too much, Mademoiselle . . .?’

  ‘Chantal, please.’ The perfect teeth flashed at him again as she took a box of breadsticks from her shopping bag and presented one to Daisy, safely ensconsed in a high chair. Daisy took it and holding it like a sword swiped the air with it once or twice before taking her first bite. ‘No, not at all. So long as I perform my duties I am free to do how I wish.’

  ‘Have you been with the Ogilvys long?’

  ‘I come when Daisy is born.’ She reached out to remove Daisy’s hat, smiling at her. She was obviously fond of her charge.

  The coffee arrived and there was a pause while it was served.

  ‘Au pairs don’t usually stay as long as that,’ said Lineham.

  Chantal took a sip of her coffee and grimaced slightly. ‘I did not intend to. But Penny – Mrs Ogilvy – is very kind and she offer me more money to stay. And I think, well, why not? But I must move on soon.’

  ‘Why is that?’ said Thanet. ‘This coffee’s not very good, is it?’

  ‘I understand that the coffee in England is much better than it used to be. But sadly, not everywhere. You must not stay with a family more than two years,’ she went on, answering his question. ‘It becomes too hard to leave the children. I know I will miss Daisy so much already. I keep on putting it off.’

  ‘Your English is excellent,’ said Lineham.

  Another dazzling smile. ‘Thank you. I try, and Penny help me. I ask her to correct me and she does. That way, I learn.’

  ‘You’re obviously fond of her, too,’ said Thanet. It was a pity, for his own purpose. The girl might be too loyal to talk.

  ‘Yes. I am.’

  ‘But you’re not so keen on her husband.’

  Chantal gave him a startled look then a rueful smile. ‘Oh dear. It is so obvious, then?’

  ‘Not at all. We are trained to notice these things. You do understand why we’re interested in him, don’t you?’

  She frowned. ‘Yes. Don’t do that, chérie.’ Daisy had started sucking the breadstick and was now wiping the chewed end up and down the front of her ski-suit, leaving brown trails. ‘If you don’t want any more, give it to Chantal.’

  Daisy handed it over with an angelic smile and said, ‘Want my book.’

  Chantal wiped the little girl’s hands with a damp flannel which she produced from her bag then rummaged in it again. ‘Say please.’

  ‘Please.’

  Chantal’s hand emerged holding a book which she duly presented to Daisy. ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar,’ she said. ‘It’s her favourite.’

  Lineham shifted impatiently, but Thanet was happy to let Chantal set the pace. He judged, however, that she was now ready for him to be frank with her. ‘You know that Mr Ogilvy was involved with the journalist who died? That he admits to visiting her that evening? And that there is a question mark over her death?’

  ‘She fell down the stairs, didn’t she? You are suggesting he might have pushed her?’ Chantal’s eyes opened so wide that the whites showed all around the irises.

  Thanet felt he had to reassure her. ‘We really don’t know at present and even if he did, we don’t believe for a moment that he is a danger to anyone else. In fact, there are several possible suspects. But we do need to find out as much as we can about all of them. So if there is anything you can tell us, to help us . . .?’

  She shrugged. ‘In France everything is so different. A mistress, pouf, it is no big deal, as you say. But here . . . Penny was very upset, when she find out.’

  ‘When was that?’

  ‘On Tuesday.’

  Thanet’s pulse quickened. The day of the murder.

  ‘She go to a coffee morning and when she come home she go straight up to her bedroom and shut the door. She does not come down for lunch and when I see her later her eyes, they are red from weeping. Then, when Mr Ogilvy come home, there is a quarrel.’ She paused to extricate Daisy’s finger from one of the holes in her book.

  Don’t stop now, begged Thanet silently. ‘You heard what was said?’

  Chantal lifted her slim shoulders. ‘I was curious,’ she admitted. ‘I do not like to see Penny unhappy. I wondered what had upset her. So when I hear them start to argue, yes, I listen. It is my affair, after all. If there is something wrong between the parents, it will affect the children.’

  ‘Quite. So what did you hear?’

  ‘I couldn’t hear every word, you understand, but Penny, she was accusing him of being unfaithful and he was not denying it. She was very upset, she was crying and shouting. She is not usually like that. Usually she is calm and patient.’

  Thanet waited. Across the table he could see Lineham silently urging her on. Daisy was mercifully quiet at the moment but the attention span of a two-year-old is brief, as they were both aware, and the next interruption might be the signal for Chantal to decide that it was time she gave her charge her full attention again.

  ‘She tell him he must choose between this woman and he
r. She say that if he choose the woman she will fight for her home and her children and he would soon find he wouldn’t be able to live – how do you say? – in the style to which he was accustomed. The business, you see, has not been good during the recession. Mr Ogilvy has been very worried at times. Just after I come, two years ago, things were so bad they were talking about selling their house.’

  ‘I see,’ said Thanet. And he did.

  So did Lineham. ‘So,’ said the sergeant, outside, after they had waved Daisy on her way, ‘someone spilled the beans at that coffee morning. Mrs O. presented him with an ultimatum and he knew which side his bread was buttered. No matter what Jessica said he wouldn’t have given in.’

  ‘Let’s go and have another word with him, while we’re in the town,’ said Thanet. ‘And we mustn’t forget that we have only their word for it that his wife didn’t get out of her car that evening.’

  ‘You’re still wondering if she was involved?’

  ‘It’s difficult to see how she could have done it by herself,’ said Thanet. ‘They must have gone off together afterwards, as they claim, or how could she have known he was at the Harrow?’

  ‘She could have spotted his car there, as she went by. It is on their way home.’

  ‘True. But I don’t see how he could have missed seeing her car when he left Jessica’s house. I shouldn’t think people normally park there, the lane’s too narrow, I think she deliberately parked where she did so that he would see her.’