Murder in Abbot's Folly (19 page)

Jennifer stared at her. ‘I'm not really sure. How stupid of me. I'm so used to the idea of Tim being in charge of everything.'

‘Think about it now.'

‘I suppose I'd have to consult Douglas Watts, the trustee, but my instinct would be to go ahead but much less fiercely, avoid commercialization on a big scale.' She flushed with sudden excitement. ‘I wouldn't go down any avenue that Mum wouldn't have wanted. The development plans included turning the whole house over to Jane Austen, with fencing, dancing classes, cooking classes, that sort of thing. Maybe tourist accommodation too. But Stourdens needs to be lived in by a family, not a business. I'd definitely live in the house myself, but we could do the Jane Austen tours and talks, and perhaps the odd concert.'

‘Would you build on the Jane Austen-Harker love affair?'

‘Why not? And . . .' Her lips briefly trembled. ‘There are the gardens, of course. Mum loved Abbot's Retreat, and I couldn't face that for a while, but eventually I may. But there's the folly and even the tunnel that we could use in the tours. We could link up with the other Jane Austen houses, perhaps. Godmersham, Goodnestone and Godinton, all opening at the same time with transport between them. And there would still be plenty of ways to use Barbara's services. I couldn't let her down.' Her face fell. ‘But there's still Tim to consider.'

‘Discuss it with him. Does he get on well with this Douglas Watts?'

‘As far as I know. Neither of them knows about the will leaving the collection to me, and I'm going to keep the situation to myself for a while longer. I can't help wondering why Mum changed her mind so adamantly over the whole idea of development. She'd gone along with Tim and Dad quite happily, although they disagreed initially over the role of Stourdens itself. She gave way eventually when Dad said they could live in the Dower House – it's rented out at present. Mum liked that house so we thought all was settled. So why, according to Dora, did it all change so suddenly?'

‘What did she tell you about that?' Georgia asked cautiously.

Jennifer flushed. ‘Tim would be furious if he knew I was talking about this. She told me that morning that she wouldn't be making the announcement about Stourdens' future, but not that she had changed her mind about the plans. She said she'd explain later in the day when we had more time. Because she wasn't feeling too good she asked me to take supervision of the catering tents in her place. She was going to stay indoors and would tell Tim and Dad about the announcement, and I think she said Phil and Jake too, since they might be affected if she didn't appear at four o'clock. As would Barbara and Craig. I returned from the catering tents just as she'd finished telling them, I think, because everyone seemed in a bit of a state. Then, of course, Dora turned up with you and Tim and I took you all to the folly. After that I was back in the tents and I only saw her at brief intervals if I had to dash back into the house for something. Now I know, thanks to Dora, that it was more than just not appearing at four and that Dora was right. Mum
had
changed her mind. Tim and Dad convinced themselves that she was simply blowing hot and cold, but it was much more than that.'

‘Something must have sparked off such a complete volte face. You've no idea what?'

‘I've been going over it and over it in my mind, but all that was unusual that week was that Amelia Luckhurst had come over on the Wednesday. I work in Canterbury so I didn't see her, but when I got home that night Mum seemed preoccupied. When I returned on the Friday though, she really did look ill, just as she did on Saturday. It was then she mentioned her will. I asked her what was wrong, and she said she was just tired. She had been in Canterbury herself and had some thinking to do. I asked her whereabouts in Canterbury, but she just said nowhere special.'

‘Did she keep an appointment book?' Georgia tried not to sound too eager, an image of Mike Gilroy's frowning face before her. This was his case, she tutored herself, not Marsh and Daughter's.

‘Only the computer, and the police have that.'

Georgia tried another tack. ‘You said she talked to you briefly on the Saturday morning. Was it about Stourdens or the Austen collection?'

‘No,' Jennifer replied. ‘I asked her if Dad or Tim could make the announcement for her as she was ill, but she suddenly turned on me, looking almost manic. Then just as quickly she relaxed again. “No,” she said. “They can't.” I was too stunned to ask questions.'

‘Is that why you were looking scared when you were all talking on the terrace on the morning of the Gala?'

‘Scared?' Jennifer looked at her with startled eyes. ‘I suppose it must have been . . . 
no
. It was Tim. He was acting so strangely. I was scared of
Tim
.'

Amelia Luckhurst – everything seemed to come back to her, Georgia reflected. She had visited Laura before the Gala, and shortly afterwards Laura had changed her mind about the future of the house. Twenty-four years earlier Amelia had reason to kill her husband because he was standing in the way of her developing Stourdens. She had not mentioned the tunnel to Laura or to Marsh & Daughter. She had been at the Gala and made a speedy escape after Laura's death. What did it all add up to? Coincidence?

Georgia reached the office the next morning eager to tell Peter the relevant parts of her conversation with Jennifer, but this was brushed aside.

‘Bad news,' he said without preamble. ‘I've had a call from Mike. He thought we should know.'

‘Know what?' Her mouth felt dry.

‘Amelia Luckhurst has been found dead. Murdered.'

ELEVEN

‘
A
cmelia's husband John had been out yesterday and came back to find her dead,' Peter told Georgia gravely. ‘Shot. It wasn't suicide, no gun, but no news on whether it could be the same one that killed Laura.'

A wave of nausea welled up inside Georgia as Peter's news became graphically real. She had not taken to Amelia, but her unexpected and terrible death was ominous as well as horrifying. ‘One coincidence too far,' she managed to say.

‘Mike agrees and so do I. The Met is handling Amelia's death of course, but Diane Newton is in touch with them. On the face of it Mike doesn't see how this could link with Laura's murder or with Bob Luckhurst's. But he agreed that there's “no harm”, as he put it, in our poking our noses in if we don't tread on any toes. Ignore the mixed metaphor. We might add a few unconsidered trifles to their case. I have a feeling that there are a few left lying around that are beginning to stink. Agree?'

‘I do, but how do we poke tactfully?'

‘It's possible John Collier would talk to us.'

‘He'll be overwhelmed at present,' she said doubtfully. ‘Besides, how could he help? There's never been any suggestion he was around at the time of Bob's death.'

‘He might know something about her visit to Laura.'

‘Any chance that Amelia's death was coincidence though?' Georgia asked. ‘Were there any signs of a break-in?'

‘None, which means she was either killed by someone who forced themselves in when she opened the door, or she knew her killer. Probably the latter, as the coffee table was set with two places. So far no takers for the guest.'

‘No one seen calling? Strange cars, delivery vans, and so on?'

‘Give me a chance,' Peter said. ‘Mike's only just heard the news himself. Time of death is estimated at between ten and twelve o'clock yesterday. The time when people have gone to work, taken the children to school, popped into the supermarket and are busy about their own affairs.'

‘And not peeping through the lace curtains. Pity,' Georgia remarked.

‘Any peeping is more likely at TV now rather than through windows. Anyway, Diane Newton rang later to say she's willing for him to talk to you and he's agreed to see you next week. It's fixed for eleven on Tuesday morning. Does that suit you?'

‘It does.'

‘Good, because in return for any snippets you might turn up, Newton might get more interested in Bob Luckhurst.'

By agreement with Peter, Georgia had come without him to see John Collier in order not to overwhelm him at a bad time. The door was opened by a woman in her thirties, who introduced herself as Julia, John's daughter by his first marriage. Georgia did her best to look non-threatening, and Julia must have been convinced because to her relief she made no suggestion that she should sit in on the conversation. John Collier rose to meet her, looking somewhat dazed, but he seemed eager to talk. He must be in his seventies, she guessed, and probably extremely sharp in normal circumstances.

‘Sorry, I can't take it in,' he kept apologizing. ‘I keep forgetting why you're here.'

He managed a sort of grin, and the haunted look on his thin face lifted slightly. Georgia wondered what his past had been and whether marriage to Amelia had been bliss or blight.

‘Let me see,' he continued, ‘you're from the police, aren't you? How's the search going? Found anything yet?'

She judged this was more a plaintive attempt to seem ‘normal' than a request for information, but did her best. ‘I came to visit Amelia one day when you were out. No, I'm not from the police, just working with them, together with my father. We're actually studying the death of your wife's first husband, and there might be something either in that or in Laura Fettis's death at Stourdens that could link with the tragic death of your wife. It's unlikely, but the police have to be sure.'

He suddenly looked much more alert. ‘It's more likely in the case of Laura Fettis than that business with Amelia's husband.'

‘Could we first go back—'

‘To that scoundrel Tanner, I suppose.'

‘Did she talk to you about what happened in 1985?'

‘Rarely. She'd made up her mind to put it behind her. She went through a bad time, what with Bob and the malicious rumours flying around.'

‘Do you know if she saw or heard from Max Tanner after his release from prison?'

He looked surprised. ‘She wouldn't have told me, even if she had – which I doubt. What she did say was that he had ideas above his station, and everyone else suffered for them. The fool even suggested he divorced his wife, married her and moved into Stourdens. That would have suited him nicely. The man was crazed with ambition, and he was more than a touch below her class – and she told him so.'

‘Was she sure he was guilty?'

He snorted. ‘No one in their right mind would doubt it.'

But, Georgia wondered, suppose Amelia herself was involved in her husband's murder, what then lay behind her own death? Had Tanner reappeared to kill her? That seemed highly unlikely, especially coming so soon after the death of Laura, with whom Tanner could have had no quarrel.

She decided to tackle a surer line. ‘Amelia told me that she went to see Laura at Stourdens a few days before the Gala she attended, and Laura's daughter told me her mother seemed disturbed afterwards.'

‘Yes.' A frown came over his face. ‘Odd that.'

‘Did she tell you the reason she went there?'

‘What's this got to do with Bob Luckhurst's death?' he demanded.

‘I don't know yet,' she said honestly. ‘Nor do the police. That's one reason they wanted me to talk to you about Bob Luckhurst – to clear any possible link out of the way.'

‘Load of balderdash,' he muttered. ‘Wish I'd never agreed to it.'

‘I'm sorry,' Georgia said sincerely, ‘especially at a time like this.'

‘I suppose the quicker I tell you, the sooner you'll go.'

‘You could put it like that,' she agreed. ‘But I'll leave right now if you don't feel like talking – I wouldn't, in your place.'

He grunted. ‘I'm going to disappoint you over that visit. Amelia didn't tell me why she went there to see the Fettis woman. Or why she went back on the Saturday, dressed in that absurd costume. I could see she was bent on going though. She said next year we'd be able to see the world in style, and I got the idea it was linked to Stourdens. We've lived rather too well these last years, but things were getting a bit tight financially, so I assumed it was one of Amelia's jokes.'

Where might this be leading? Georgia tried not to race ahead too fast. ‘Was she still excited when she returned from Stourdens on the Wednesday?'

‘Quite the contrary. She was in one of her moods. I couldn't say anything to please her. I asked if everything was all right. She said no, but there were other avenues.'

‘What did she mean by that?'

‘No idea. She shut up quick afterwards.'

Georgia frowned. ‘Did you tell the police about that?'

‘When they came storming round to the house, I told them she'd been to see Laura Fettis. They said something about Laura having second thoughts over what to do with the old heap. Did that nugget come from you?'

‘No. The police had evidence for that.'

‘When she got back from the Gala, she was full of Laura's death, as you can imagine, and jabbering about someone called Halliday and a few other names. She was in a foul mood that last week. Pity. I'd have liked . . .'

His eyes moistened, and Georgia asked hastily: ‘Did Laura Fettis come here or did you have any other unusual visitors during the period?'

‘There were one or two, but I wasn't here and she didn't tell me who – I just used to see dirty coffee cups or glasses around. I did ask her once who'd been over, but all she replied was, “The world in style, John. Style.”' His voice broke.