LS 13 - Murder in a Different Place (9 page)

Chapter Fourteen

The laptops and tablets all came out.

‘Fu … blow me,’ said Harry. ‘There was a rocket-testing site at the Needles.’

‘Late fifties,’ said Libby. ‘Too late. Your parent needs to have been born in the early fifties. Wish we knew which sex we were looking for.’

‘There are a lot of videos,’ said Peter. ‘But it’s all nostalgia stuff.’

‘Everything keeps referring back to the derestriction of the Island in 1948,’ said Ben. ‘Could that have something to do with it?’

‘It’s because of the proximity to France,’ said Fran. ‘The beaches were restricted areas.’

‘They were in Kent, too,’ said Libby, ‘and all along the south coast.’

‘Most of the sites are referring to the freedom from rationing, the fashions, and the holiday-makers,’ said Guy. ‘No different from Nethergate, really.’

‘Hmm.’ Libby shut her laptop and stood up. ‘I don’t think we’re going to find anything out here.’

‘No.’ Fran followed suit. ‘There was obviously no big news story around that time.’

‘But we don’t want a big news story,’ said Peter. ‘Don’t you think it could be the opening up of the Island? More people coming in?’

‘Could be,’ said Harry, looking interested. ‘When did rock’n’roll start?’

‘Not until the late fifties,’ said Ben. ‘It wouldn’t have been that.’

Libby was staring out at the sea. ‘I’ve had an idea,’ she said.

The other five looked at each other with foreboding.

Libby turned round. ‘Don’t you want to know what it is?’

‘Go on,’ said Ben.

‘What?’ said Harry.

‘Why don’t we have a memorial service for Matthew?’

There was a stunned silence.

‘Libby,’ said Peter eventually, ‘we’ve just been to his funeral.’

‘I know,’ said Libby, ‘but not everybody knew about it. You said yourself there were only a few people from London there.’

‘I don’t see how this would help find Celia’s murder or Harry’s stalker,’ said Ben.

‘I think I do,’ said Fran. ‘If it could be a public notice of some sort …’

‘If you’re thinking of doing it in London …’ began Peter.

‘Not that many people from the Island would go,’ finished Guy.

‘Exactly,’ said Libby triumphantly.

They all looked at each other in bewilderment.

‘But then we wouldn’t know,’ said Harry.

‘Oh, think about it,’ crowed Libby. ‘You’re all so thick!’

‘Come on, you old trout, don’t be a cow, and tell us what you mean,’ Peter aimed a kick at her.

Libby sat down again. ‘If we suggest to the sisters that we hold a memorial service in – yes, London – for all the people who might not have learnt about his death and who couldn’t come to the funeral, and anyone who did come, of course, who would be bound to come?’

‘Er – us?’ suggested Ben.

‘No, Harry’s stalker! Who we think is also the murderer.’

‘Why would he?’ Guy asked.

‘Look – remember the letter? It said that Matthew wouldn’t tell the writer who Matthew’s young friend was, and then Harry found that note, suggesting that someone is actually looking for him.’

‘And found me,’ said Harry.

‘Yes, but nothing can happen to you here,’ said Libby reasonably. ‘There’s always someone with you, and usually several people. Also, this place is so difficult to get to, anybody would be spotted.’

‘Thanks,’ said Harry. ‘I feel really safe.’

‘We don’t know that anyone’s actually
after
Harry,’ said Guy.

‘Well, he is the illegitimate grandson of – of – of somebody,’ said Libby.

‘Do you realise how melodramatic all this sounds?’ asked Peter.

Fran smiled and put her laptop on the coffee table. ‘It does.’ She turned to Libby. ‘Despite everything, all we’ve got is these three women deciding their sister was murdered, keeping some sort of secret from us, and the fact that Harry appears to be the target of some sort of attention. Nothing else.’

Libby looked round at her friends. ‘Is that what you all think?’

One by one they all nodded.

‘So no memorial service, then?’

‘No, petal.’ Peter came to stand next to Libby and gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘An enormous challenge to organise, not to mention money spent as well, and for what?’

Libby sighed. ‘Just an intellectual exercise, then?’

‘Not for me,’ said Harry. ‘I’d still quite like to know who I am.’

Libby smiled at him gratefully. ‘Perhaps we could see if we can’t just do that?’

‘And ignore the three harpies?’ said Ben.

‘I don’t see why not,’ said Fran. ‘They asked us to help and then kept things back. They haven’t helped at all. I vote we just have the rest of our holiday here, and see if there’s any way we can track down Harry’s relations. That’s all we can do.’

‘Well, if that’s what you all think …’ Libby looked round the group and sighed again. ‘OK. In which case, surely it’s time for a drink before dinner, isn’t it? And what are we doing for dinner?’

They walked into Ventnor for dinner, and strolled down The Esplanade to watch the sunset.

‘It’s not unlike Nethergate, is it?’ said Guy. ‘It’s still an old-fashioned seaside town.’

‘It’s my favourite on the Island,’ said Libby. ‘But there are lovely places everywhere.’ She turned to Harry. ‘And some really exciting new restaurants and chefs, Harry. Shall we try them?’

‘How do you know all this?’ asked Ben, amused. ‘You haven’t been here for years.’

‘The internet, of course. I went on a bit of an Isle of Wight binge after we heard about Matthew.’

‘I’d like to see the other side of the Island,’ said Harry suddenly. ‘You know, where it looks like it’s all trees and no buildings.’

‘We were over there this morning,’ said Fran. ‘Perhaps we could have a proper look at that side of the Island tomorrow?’

‘Starting with Seaview,’ said Libby, ‘and work our way along.’

‘We should have brought a bloody minibus,’ said Peter.

‘We can get all six of us into mine,’ said Ben. ‘No one minds squashing up, do they?’

‘Lovely,’ said Libby happily. ‘A proper family outing.’

The next morning, when they all piled into the car, Libby said, ‘Shall we point out Amanda’s house on the way?’

‘Won’t it take us out of our way?’ said Fran, squashed between Harry and the off-side rear door.

‘We can double back,’ said Libby. ‘I worked out the route on the laptop this morning.’

‘Directions, then, please,’ said Ben from the driving seat. ‘Left or right?’

As they drove towards Beech Manor, Libby remembered Fran’s odd feeling about Amanda Clipping and her friends.

‘We didn’t tell you that, did we?’ she concluded after recounting the preceding day’s encounter.

‘This is it,’ said Fran, and Ben pulled in as close to side of the lane as possible.

‘And that one belongs to Lady Bligh,’ said Libby.

‘I suppose she couldn’t be my grandmother?’ said Harry, following Fran out of the car and strolling across the road to peer up the drive.

‘No, you said Matthew told you your grandmother died,’ said Peter, joining him at the gates. ‘But I bet she knew her.’

‘They all did,’ said Fran. ‘Lady Bligh, Amanda Clipping’s parents, the three – four – sisters, and that other couple we don’t know about. What was their name?’

‘The Dougans,’ said Libby. ‘And they were all at the funeral.’

‘The senior Clippings weren’t,’ said Guy.

‘No, but Amanda was, as their representative,’ said Libby.

‘And she and her mates were looking for me,’ said Harry thoughtfully. ‘Why don’t we pop over and see if they’re in?’

‘Look, it was only a feeling, Harry,’ said Fran. ‘You can’t just ring the bell and say “Here I am”, can you?’

‘Be very interesting, though, wouldn’t it?’ said Harry, as he crossed the road towards Beech Manor.

‘Was it one of them that wrote the letter?’ asked Guy.

‘Or wrote the note?’ said Libby.

‘How do I know?’ said Fran. ‘I only get flashes, not life histories.’

‘I wish we could find out who the bloke in the wheelchair is,’ said Libby. ‘I’m sure he’s got something to do with it.’

‘We’re not investigating any more, Lib, remember?’ warned Fran.

‘We are – just into Harry’s threats.’ Libby beamed up at him. ‘Aren’t we, Hal?’

He grinned down at her. ‘Yes, old trout. Perhaps the invalid is my dad – what do you reckon?’

‘And the other one is his legitimate son who wants to get Harry out of the way?’ Ben laughed.

‘You never know,’ said Libby. ‘The trouble is, we’ve absolutely no way of knowing or finding out. We normally have some sort of way in but this time we’ve nothing.’ She paused. ‘Unless … have you got your birth certificate, Hal?’

‘Yes, of course. I had to apply for a copy when I got my passport.’

‘Oh, yes, the home would have had your original, wouldn’t they?’

‘That was only a short form, anyway,’ said Harry. ‘You have to have the long form to apply for a passport.’

‘So you know your mother’s name?’ said Peter. ‘I never thought of that. Have you looked her up?’

‘By the time I was applying for a passport I was with you.’ Harry smiled fondly at his partner. ‘It just never occurred to me.’

Peter slung an arm around Harry’s shoulders and squeezed. ‘Course.’

‘Well, if we’re not going to knock on any doors,’ said Ben, ‘can we get going? Time’s getting on.’

They all piled back into the car, and Harry, now up against the rear passenger door, waved a valedictory hand out of the window at Beech Manor. ‘Just in case they were looking,’ he said.

‘Well, if they were,’ said Fran, ‘and they actually were looking for you, it won’t hurt for them to know we might be on to them.’

‘All very cloak and dagger,’ said Ben. ‘Let’s just go and enjoy our day.’

It wasn’t until much later in the day, having left the car in a car park, they were walking through woodland on the north side of the Island at the top of the cliffs overlooking the drowned prehistoric Bouldnor Battery, when Libby said, ‘I can’t just leave it alone, you know.’

Beside her, Ben groaned. Ahead, Peter looked over his shoulder. ‘What?’

‘I said, I can’t just leave it alone,’ repeated Libby.

Peter and Harry dropped back and Fran and Guy hurried up behind.

‘Why am I not surprised?’ said Peter, his head on one side.

‘We did agree we should try and see if we can’t find out about Harry’s parentage,’ said Libby defensively, ‘and it all does seem to link up.’

‘You mean Celia’s murder?’ said Harry.

‘Alleged murder,’ corrected Ben.

‘Well, doesn’t it?’

‘I’m not sure if we and the sisters haven’t linked it ourselves,’ said Fran.

‘It was the letter that did that,’ said Guy. ‘The one they received that they sent on to Harry.’

‘And before that there was nothing to link them.’ Ben shook his head.

‘I don’t suppose the sisters had thought of me much,’ said Harry. ‘Matthew and I weren’t always in contact. That email you saw on his computer was about the last time we were in touch.’

‘Yes, I wanted to ask you about that letter, Hal,’ said Libby. ‘You remember when the sisters came down to tea the day after the funeral?’

‘Yes.’ Harry gazed longingly over the view of the Solent towards the mainland. Libby dug him in the ribs.

‘That was a set-up, wasn’t it?’

Chapter Fifteen

Peter, Ben, Fran, and Guy were studies in shock.

Peter found his voice first. ‘What
are
you talking about?’

‘Harry knows.’ Libby was watching Harry triumphantly. ‘And if you all think about it, so will you.’

‘Can we go back to the car?’ said Harry. ‘I think I’ve had enough sight-seeing.’

Without a word, they all turned back towards the car park. It wasn’t until they reached the car that Harry spoke again.

‘Libby’s right. It was a set-up.’

They all looked at Libby.

‘Go on, then,’ said Fran. ‘Explain.’

‘Harry actually asked them if there weren’t four of them. Remember? He said he thought Matthew had spoken about four cousins.’

‘And that was when Alicia told you about Celia, of course,’ said Fran turning her gaze on Harry.

‘And …?’ said Peter.

‘Why did Harry ask? He already knew.’ Libby looked up at him. ‘Didn’t you, Hal?’

He nodded.

‘I’m not following this at all,’ said Guy. ‘Someone start at the beginning.’

‘Hal explained to us that the sisters had forwarded the letter to him, and that they had been in communication after that. He even said he tried to stop them involving us. That right, Hal?’

He nodded again.

‘So please tell us, darling boy, why all the secrecy? Why didn’t you tell us about the letter when you first received it? And the sisters’ suspicions about Celia’s death?’ Peter was looking like a thundercloud.

Harry sighed. ‘Because I didn’t want to get involved. I didn’t want you to get involved. By the time they sent me the letter we all knew about Matthew’s death and I wanted to go to the funeral. When the sisters said they were inviting you as well I just went along with it, hoping to wriggle out of it somehow. When you said Fran and Guy were coming to join us for a few days, I guessed we’d be in trouble.’

‘So you don’t think Celia was murdered?’ said Ben.

‘Oh, I don’t know. I did wonder – well, you know I did – if somehow it could be linked to my parents, but …’ He trailed to a stop.

‘You know,’ said Peter, stuffing his hands in his pockets and scowling at his best beloved, ‘if you’d told me as soon as you got this letter, and then we’d told Libby straight away about the sisters’ mad ideas, this would have been far less complicated.’

‘I know that now,’ said Harry grumpily.

‘But the further you got in, the worse it got,’ said Ben. ‘I know.’ He unlocked the car. ‘Pile in, people. Let’s get back to the Ship.’

‘So what are you going to do now?’ asked Fran, when she and Libby were squeezed in the back seat between Peter and Harry.

‘Nothing we can do, really,’ said Libby. ‘I don’t want to give up, but I don’t know how we can possibly trace Harry’s granny, and we really have no way of finding anything out about Celia’s death, which we’d already decided, hadn’t we? We can try with Hal’s birth certificate and see if it takes us anywhere, but that will have to wait until we get home tomorrow.’

‘We could try looking it up online,’ said Fran.

‘That will only give us members of the household, and suppose there are more than one?’

‘I’ll dig it out tomorrow night and let you know then,’ said Harry, ‘although I don’t know what good it will do.’

‘Didn’t you ever wonder about your family before?’ asked Fran.

‘Well. of course I did, but only in a – I don’t know – a sort of vague way. Matthew wouldn’t tell me anything, and by the time I met Pete it didn’t seem to matter.’

‘Well, if nothing else happens, I don’t see why we should bother,’ said Peter.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Libby. ‘If nothing else happens?’

‘Like that note. If no one appears to be “after” Hal, as you put it, why should we bother?’

‘I’d quite like to know, now,’ said Harry.

‘Course you would,’ said Libby, patting him on the knee. ‘So would I.’

‘I thought you were going to show me one of these famous chefs tonight, by the way,’ said Harry. ‘Bit late now, isn’t it?’

‘Oh, bugger, I forgot. Oh, well, we’ll have to come over again some time.’

‘Not sure I’m keen on that idea,’ said Peter.

‘Don’t be daft,’ said Harry. ‘It’s a lovely place.’

‘But a bit spoilt now,’ said Peter, ‘you must admit.’

Instead of Libby’s designer chef, they ate that night at the cafe on the beach again.

‘Do we go in to say goodbye to the ladies tomorrow?’ Ben asked as they shared the last of the wine between them.

‘Oh, we have to. Apart from anything else, we have to give thme key back,’ said Libby. ‘However annoying they’ve been, they’ve given us a free week’s holiday.’

The candles on the tables flickered in the slight breeze and light wavered over their faces, showing varying degrees of thoughtfulness.

‘If you can call it that,’ said Peter. ‘Not sure I would.’

‘It’s been interesting,’ said Guy. ‘I’ve never really been involved in one of your cases before.’

‘Yes you have,’ said Fran. ‘You always are.’

‘Only on the sidelines,’ said Guy.

‘Providing support,’ agreed Ben.

‘Well, we’ll go back to normal tomorrow,’ said Libby. ‘Just Fran and me putting the world to rights.’

When they finished dinner, they strolled back to Candle Cove and had a last look round the Beach House.

‘I wonder what really happened here,’ said Libby.

‘You are
not
going to find out,’ said Harry, linking his arm through hers. ‘I shall let you research my old ancestors just to keep you busy when we get home, but to be honest, I feel a bit like Pete, only don’t tell him.’

‘What?’ asked Libby, amused.

‘I want to get away from the Island,’ said Harry in a theatrical whisper.

‘Look, here are the steps,’ called Guy from the other end of the cove.

‘You’d never know they were there, would you?’ said Peter, as they all came over to inspect the crumbling steps hidden behind a wall of vegetation.

‘Could you actually get up them, though?’ said Ben. ‘They don’t look very safe.’

Harry tried to push through the bushes, but Peter pulled him back.

‘Oh, no you don’t, we’ve had enough trouble without you ending up with a broken leg.’

Harry brushed pieces of wood off his sleeve. ‘Tell you what, I don’t reckon Celia could have got up there, anyway.’

‘Not our problem any more, ducky, you said so,’ said Libby. ‘Come on, let’s go and have a nightcap on our lovely deck.’

The following morning was a bustle of packing and cleaning. Blessed with four men who were adept at looking after houses, Fran and Libby didn’t find themselves with the bulk of the cleaning, although they both ended up doing most of the packing.

‘That’s it,’ said Libby looking round. ‘We’ve finished. Let’s start carrying things up to the cars.’

‘Are we all going in to see the sisters?’ asked Harry, looking nervous.

‘I think we ought to,’ said Fran. ‘Libby and I can go in first, and perhaps they’ll come out to say goodbye to the rest of you.’

But in fact when they reached the top of the steps, Alicia, Amelia, and Honoria were waiting for them.

‘I saw you,’ said Honoria. ‘I was weeding.’

‘Ah,’ said Libby, with a weak smile. ‘Well, here’s the key, and we wanted to say thank you for letting us stay in the house.’

‘It was a pleasure,’ said Alicia. ‘I’m only sorry …’

‘You wouldn’t find out who murdered Celia,’ snapped Amelia.

Before Libby could make an angry retort, Fran stepped smoothly into the breach.

‘We had no access to any of the facts,’ she said. ‘If you don’t think the police did a good enough job, speak to them about it.’ She turned to Alicia. ‘Thank you for allowing Guy and me to stay, too.’

Each of the men bade a polite goodbye and Harry surprised them all by going up to give Alicia a hug. She kissed his cheek and stepped back, wiping her eyes.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘It isn’t …’

‘Important,’ Honoria finished for her, glaring at Amelia. ‘Doesn’t matter. Safe journey.’

Fran and Guy got into one car and Ben, Libby, Peter and Harry got into the other. As they pulled away, Libby turned and saw the three sisters still standing watching them.

‘I wonder what that was all about it?’ she said.

‘I think they’ve been arguing among themselves,’ said Ben.

‘Yeah, I reckon so.’ Harry wriggled into a comfortable position in the back seat and stretched his legs as far as they would go. ‘That Amelia was the problem.’

‘Mad because we wouldn’t find out about her sister, yet unwilling to tell us the truth. In fact, it almost seemed as if she was the one hiding something,’ said Libby.

‘More than the others?’ asked Peter.

‘I think so, although Honoria was less than forthcoming, and we never found out what they were all doing on the mainland in the fifties.’

‘Except for Amelia,’ said Ben. ‘Her husband was a diplomat.’

‘Oh, well.’ Libby shrugged. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll ever see them again, so we might as well forget about them.’

The journey home was uneventful, and to round off the week, when they arrived in Steeple Martin, Fran and Guy broke their own journey to join the others for dinner in the pub.

‘Nice to be back,’ said Harry. ‘I’ve quite missed the old caff.’

‘At least you haven’t got to open up tomorrow,’ said Peter.

‘No, but I’ll have to go in to sort out ordering and make sure everything’s OK. You got to work, Ben?’

‘I’ll go up to the office. I don’t suppose there’s much for me to do, but I ought to let the tenants know I’m back.’

‘I’ve got to open the shop,’ said Guy. ‘We’re almost into high season, now. You saw how many families were on the Island. That’ll be the same in Nethergate.’

‘Yes, all the ones with pre-school children,’ said Libby. ‘Which reminds me, I haven’t seen Jane and Imogen for ages. How are they?’

‘Fine as far as I know. Jane occasionally walks Imogen down to the ice cream shop, so I see them then,’ said Fran. ‘I haven’t see Terry, though.’

Jane was assistant editor on the local paper, the
Nethergate Mercury
, and lived with her husband Terry and their daughter in a beautiful Georgian terraced house left to Jane by her aunt.

‘We’ll go and see her this week, shall we?’ suggested Libby. ‘I’ll give her a ring in the morning and find out when she’ll be free.’

‘And I suppose I’d better check with the children and see how they are,’ sighed Fran.

‘Don’t let them bully you,’ laughed Libby. Fran’s daughters were notorious for trying to take advantage of her.

The party broke up.

‘I’ll ring you to see if you’ve found that birth certificate in the morning,’ said Libby to Harry, as they parted outside the pub.

‘OK,’ said Harry. ‘Anything to keep you out of mischief.’

Ben and Libby walked back to Allhallow’s Lane.

‘Don’t let the search for Harry’s parentage take you over, Lib,’ said Ben. ‘Best leave all Isle of Wight business on the Isle of Wight.’

‘I know,’ sighed Libby, ‘but I’ve still got this niggling feeling.’

‘Well, stamp on it,’ said Ben. ‘It was all a bit emotional over there, feelings swirling round like black ink.’

Libby looked at him in surprise. ‘How poetic, Ben!’

‘That’s what it felt like, however beautiful the place was.’ Ben took out his key to open the door of number seventeen. ‘And this is our little oasis of calm.’

Libby giggled. ‘Is that what it is?’ She looked round at the cluttered interior.

‘Complete with alcoholic refreshments,’ said Ben with a grin. ‘Nightcap?’

‘Why not?’ Libby sat down on the sofa and stretched her legs. ‘Funny without Sidney, though, isn’t it?’

‘We’ll pick him up from Mum tomorrow,’ said Ben, pouring whisky. ‘He’ll be even more of a walking stomach after a week at the Manor with her.’

Sidney, a cat known for his appetite and sulky disposition, was a silver tabby with attitude.

‘And I’ll pick up Harry’s birth certificate,’ said Libby, accepting her glass.

‘Oh, dear,’ said Ben.