Murder at the Laurels (24 page)

Chapter Thirty-two

H
ARRY LEERED SUGGESTIVELY AT
Fran when Guy appeared to join her at the restaurant. He settled them on the sofa in the window to wait for their table, and raised an eyebrow at Guy's request for mineral water.

‘I've got to drive back to Nethergate tonight,' said Guy.

‘Pity,' said Harry.

Fran, with flaming cheeks, asked for a glass of red wine.

‘I think Harry wants to promote my cause,' said Guy, as he watched the tall elegant figure weaving its way through the other tables.

Fran opened her mouth to ask what cause, then thought better of it.

‘So, what did Libby have to say about your revelations?'

‘She wanted to talk it through. I told her to discuss it with Ben. Not that it's got anything to do with her.'

Guy smiled. ‘That doesn't usually stop her,' he said.

‘No, and it's been good to have someone to talk things over with, but the police are on the case, and we mustn't interfere.'

‘Even if you know something they don't?'

Fran shook her head. ‘They wouldn't believe what I know.'

Guy looked thoughtful. ‘I let it go at the time, and you haven't brought it up since, but you mentioned something about “seeing” something which you couldn't have seen, and Libby referred to it as one of your “moments”.' He looked at her. ‘Can I ask now what it was about?'

Fran sighed. ‘I suppose so. It's how I earn a meagre living, and the police know about it, so there's no reason for you not to, but I quite understand if you're sceptical.'

‘Who am I to doubt the word of the police?' Guy covered her hand with his and squeezed. ‘Tell away.'

Fran explained briefly about her job with Goodall and Smythe and DCI Murray's interest. ‘I think quite a lot of police forces use people like me occasionally,' she finished. ‘Not very openly, it's true, but if something helps it's worth trying, isn't it?'

‘And what is it you've seen that he won't believe now?'

‘Nurse Redding concealing the new will. Or rather, planting it. Which means she had been concealing it before.'

‘Well, you've got to tell the police,' said Guy. ‘It puts a whole new complexion on the matter.'

‘Yes, I know,' Fran sighed again, ‘but they can hardly go and charge her with something because I've had some sort of a vision, can they? And then there's Eleanor and the cellar steps.'

Guy looked slightly bemused by the time Donna came to take them to their table.

‘I think you should have talked it over with Libby,' he said. ‘I'm having difficulty following it all.'

‘But you were coming over,' said Fran. ‘She wanted me to go for a drink this evening.'

‘We could go round after dinner,' suggested Guy.

‘Oh,' said Fran, trying not to sound disappointed.

‘If you really wanted to, that is. I'd prefer to have you to myself, but this sounds urgent.'

Fran smiled with relief. ‘Oh, no. It'll keep. After all, now the police know the will's been found, they'll look again at Mrs Headlam and Nurse Redding, I should think. They'll find anything there is to find.'

‘Oh, I meant to tell you,' said Guy, as Donna set their first courses in front of them, ‘Sophie said she saw her old school friend, the other nurse, yesterday with her boyfriend.'

‘Really? I think Libby gave up on trying to talk to her. I expect the police will, though.'

‘Will they?'

‘Oh, yes. Now the will's turned up, they'll ask everything all over again.'

‘God, how boring.' Guy turned his attention to his food. ‘This is good, Fran. Why have I never been here before?'

Fran realised she was getting used to dining with Guy by the ease with which they maintained both conversation and comfortable silences throughout the meal. Harry was on hand – far too frequently – to top up glasses and enquire about the food, until Guy gave him a charming smile and an explicit instruction. Harry roared with laughter and took himself off to the kitchen.

It wasn't until Guy had pushed away his dessert plate with a satisfied sigh that Fran became aware of a curling sensation in the pit of her stomach. What now?

‘Wondering whether to invite me up for coffee?' said Guy, cocking his head on one side like an inquisitive blackbird.

‘Are you getting in on my act?' Fran asked. ‘Yes, as a matter of fact, I was. Coffee's not a euphemism, though.'

‘Of course not.' Guy pretended to be shocked. ‘As if I would think it was!'

‘Well,' said Fran, confused, ‘you might. Although I can't see why.'

‘Now you really are confusing me,' said Guy, shaking his head. ‘Come on. Let's sneak out without Harry noticing.'

‘I've got to pay,' said Fran.

‘He knows where you are.'

‘Yes, and he'll probably come leaping up the back stairs demanding his money.'

‘Oh, all right. Anything to prevent that.'

Fran went over to Donna at the table they used for a cash desk and paid, just in time before Harry reappeared as they left.

‘Very nice,' said Guy, as Fran showed him into the living room before going to put the kettle on.

‘Did you want coffee? Or something stronger?' she called from the kitchen.

‘Coffee's fine. I'm driving, remember?'

‘Yes,' she said gratefully, coming back into the living room.

‘Thank you for a lovely meal, by the way.' Guy sat on the sofa and smiled up at her. ‘Harry's a good cook.'

‘A great chef, I think he would prefer,' said Fran, laughing.

‘Then he shouldn't refer to his restaurant as “the caff” should he?'

‘I'll tell him,' said Fran, ‘but not tonight.'

‘No, not tonight,' said Guy, reaching for her hand. ‘Come and sit beside me.'

‘I'll go and get the coffee,' said Fran hastily, pulling her hand away. ‘Sorry.'

When she returned with mugs and cafetière, she apologised again. ‘I'm out of practice,' she said.

‘I'm glad to hear it,' said Guy. ‘Shall we start again?'

An hour later, when he left, refusing to let Fran come downstairs with him, they'd not only started, but gone quite a way towards the finishing line, and Fran was in a state of delighted confusion. Clearing the coffee things away, she was aware of a sort of tingling, bubbly feeling that almost took her breath away. Coming to live here, meeting Libby, Harry and Peter, the sudden and surprising acquisition of a legacy and, finally, meeting Guy were all rather too much for someone who'd not had the best life or luck over the past few years. Climbing into bed, she thanked Uncle Frank, and whoever else was up there looking after her, and looked forward to discussing everything with Libby in the morning.

Libby called her in the morning before Fran had even gathered her thoughts together.

‘I was going to call you,' she said, yawning.

‘That sounds like a good night,' said Libby, a question in her voice.

‘I'll tell you all about it later,' said Fran. ‘What did you want?'

‘A chat. I think you should tell the inspector what you know.'

‘That's what Guy said.'

‘There you are then. And I think we should see what Nurse Warner knows, too.'

‘Oh, yes. Guy said his daughter Sophie saw her with her boyfriend the other day.'

‘Really? Where?'

‘I don't know. Look, Lib, I'll come round when I've woken up properly and we can discuss everything. Anyway, I want to look at your computer.'

‘OK. I'll have the kettle on. Don't be too long.'

‘All right, all right,' said Fran, exasperated. ‘I'll be as quick as I can.'

In fact, it was over an hour before she arrived at Libby's, coat collar turned up against a sharp wind. Libby sat her down in front of the new computer while she made tea.

‘So, what happened last night?' she asked.

Fran gave her an expurgated version of the night's events and made her laugh about Harry's obvious nosiness.

‘A proper relationship, then?' said Libby, when she'd finished.

‘The beginning of one, perhaps,' said Fran uncertainly, ‘but I know now what you felt like about Ben, back in the spring.'

‘And a couple of weeks ago, don't forget,' said Libby. ‘Being middle-aged and starting a relationship's absolute hell, in my opinion. Much worse than when you're young.'

‘I don't know what I'll do if I ever get to the point of taking my clothes off,' said Fran, staring out of the window.

‘Oh, so you didn't get that far last night?' said Libby, grinning.

‘No,' said Fran, blushing and trying not to think about Guy's enterprising hands.

‘Hopefully, by that stage, you'll be too far gone to be thinking,' said Libby.

‘Let's change the subject,' said Fran, coming away from the computer and sitting in the armchair. Sidney appeared immediately and jumped onto the arm.

‘Right. Nurse Warner. Bet you she's got a story.'

‘Bet you so has Nurse Redding.'

‘Well, of course she has, but she put me off pretty conclusively over the Satanists, didn't she?'

‘I suppose I could try,' said Fran, looking thoughtful. ‘I've a legitimate reason to ask her questions, now, haven't I?'

‘The will, you mean? But you aren't in it.'

‘She doesn't know that.' Fran thought for a moment. ‘Oh, yes, she does, doesn't she? If she had the will, she'll have read it. I still can't think why she wanted it.'

‘Perhaps she didn't. Perhaps she just found it.'

‘I can still ask her about it.'

‘I thought,' said Libby, ‘you weren't going to do any more. Leave it to the police, you said.'

‘You said I ought to go to the police, and we ought to discuss it.'

‘Oh, well, whatever.' Libby waved a dismissive hand. ‘Tell DCI Murray what you've seen.'

‘You think so?' Fran looked doubtful.

‘Yes, I do. And about Aunt Eleanor.'

‘Let's not over-egg the pudding,' said Fran, ‘he might not be like the White Queen.'

‘Eh?' said Libby.

‘In Alice. Believing six impossible things before breakfast.'

‘Oh.'

‘I'll ring him.' Fran heaved a sigh and dragged her mobile out of her bag.

‘I've told you, use the land line, or he'll be able to get hold of you anytime.' Libby handed over the phone.

Fran, hoping that DCI Murray would be unavailable, was disappointed.

‘What have you got for me, Mrs Castle?' he said, sounding much more friendly than the last time they'd met.

Fran, with much hesitation, explained.

‘Yes,' he said, when she'd finished, ‘we suspected something of the sort. Our scenes of crime people are very thorough, and we'd even searched the other residents' rooms. Didn't go down too well.'

‘I wouldn't imagine it would,' said Fran. ‘So you searched the staff quarters, too?'

‘Except Marion Headlam, they all live out,' said Murray, ‘but we searched all the staff rooms and lockers. We're quite competent, you know, Mrs Castle.'

‘I know.' Fran cleared her throat. ‘Actually, there's something else I ought to tell you, Inspector. As a result of Mrs Bridges' death, I've come into a legacy.' And she explained about the trust.

‘And you knew nothing about this?' Murray sounded suspicious.

‘No, I promise you. I've got the name of the solicitor who told me. He's ringing me back on Monday. John Meade of Hallbert and Dunkin.'

‘I'll phone him first thing,' muttered Murray. ‘This is getting too complicated.'

‘There was something else, too,' said Fran, feeling that she might as well burn her boats.

‘Yes? What? More visions?' DCI Murray sighed heavily.

‘Well, yes, actually,' said Fran, and explained about the cellar steps.

‘When was this?' he sounded quite bright, now, thought Fran, as she explained that she didn't actually know, but it must have been 1964 or possibly 1965.

‘So you weren't living in the house, then?'

‘No, we moved away after he married Eleanor,' said Fran, wondering how many more times she was going to have to explain her family details.

‘We've got the address of the property, haven't we?' he said. ‘It's where Mr Wade lives now.'

‘Yes, it is. Is that all Inspector? Only I'm using my friend's phone.'

‘
Chief
Inspector,
Mrs
Castle,' he said. ‘Yes. I'll come back to you if I need anything else.'

‘That's that, then,' said Libby, as Fran handed her back the phone. ‘Now what?'

‘Redding,' said Fran. ‘I can talk to her on the pretext of warning her about the police wanting to question her again.'

‘Shall I ring her?'

‘We don't know what shift she's on, do we? Or even if she works at weekends. It
is
Saturday.'

‘I'll risk it and go to The Laurels,' said Fran.

‘Marion Headlam'll be surprised,' said Libby. ‘You were only there yesterday.'

Fran shrugged. ‘I'll think of something,' she said.

In fact, she didn't have to. Borrowing Romeo once again, and deciding that, if the trust materialised, the first thing she would do would be to buy a car – a nice, clean environmentally friendly one – she was just about to turn into the drive of The Laurels, when a car, almost as ancient as Romeo, drove out, and Fran, whose distance eyesight was excellent, recognised Nurse Redding driving it. As she turned away from Fran, Fran was able to follow her without looking suspicious, and as Nurse Redding was a careful, not to say over-cautious, driver, following her was easy. She parked eventually in front of a large detached house near the hospital in Canterbury, and Fran was able to park in a space just beyond, and catch her up just as she walked up the path to the front door.