Snapped in Cornwall (13 page)

‘Can we call a truce?’ Jack asked as they headed towards Penzance. ‘And I would appreciate your opinion on some of the people involved.’

‘I see. You want me to be your … what’s the word? Grass? Informer?’

Jack laughed loudly. ‘You slay me, Rose Trevelyan. I just meant that, being an artist, you must have an eye for detail.’

‘Oh.’

‘I bought my wife one of your paintings once.’

‘You did? Which one was it?’ Rose, like many artists, had her work on display in local shops and cafés. Occasionally she sold a few that way, others were commissioned through word of mouth or sold via galleries which handled several artists’ work.

‘I don’t know. It was a view of Land’s End. Before it was ruined,’ he added, referring to the theme park.

‘You feel the same as me, then. I suppose tourists need things like that but I liked it as it was. Just the cliffs and the sea.’

‘And the signpost.’

‘Oh, yes, and the signpost.’ Under which visitors could stand and have a picture taken. Inserted would be the name of their home town and the distance away in miles. Rose realised it was the first time they had had any sort of interaction which did not involve the Miltons in some way and was not tense with undercurrents.

‘Marian – that’s my wife, ex-wife – she said, now don’t take offence, she said it was a little on the crude side but that’s what appealed to her. She said it showed feeling and you probably enjoyed painting it. I don’t know anything about art myself, but I liked it too.’

‘Thank you.’ Was the flattery genuine? ‘It was done a long time ago, not long after I came down here. I love wild landscapes. Unfortunately I can only make a real living out of photography.’

‘Will a curry suit you?’ Jack had slowed the car. He needed to know where to park.

‘Yes, fine.’

‘A drink first, though – I can’t imagine you refusing.’

She glanced at his face – lined, pleasant – but could not see his eyes as he turned to reverse into a space on the sea front.

They walked up the hill, several feet apart, Rose wishing she had brought a jacket. The evenings were cooler now and the heat of the previous weeks seemed to have become a thing of the past.

‘Barry Rowe told me you do a good line in greetings cards too. That you paint them and he reproduces them.’

‘Did he now?’

‘He’s very fond of you.’

‘And I of him. I’ve known him for over twenty years.’

‘Your boyfriend?’

‘Boyfriend? At my age? No, just a good friend.’

They entered the Union Hotel and Jack went to the bar leaving Rose to pick a table.

‘Is there one?’ he asked when he returned with a pint of bitter and a glass of red wine. ‘A boyfriend?’

‘Not at the moment.’ Let him make of that what he liked, she thought as she sipped the red wine she had not asked for. He was taking a lot on to assume he knew her tastes.

There was silence for several minutes. Jack was taller than her with dark springy hair, plenty of it for his age, she considered, guessing that he might be older than herself but that there were not many years between them.

‘Me neither,’ he volunteered. ‘I’ve been divorced for twelve years, I don’t seem to have the time for women somehow.’

Was this another veiled compliment?

‘Anyway, as I said, what do you make of the Miltons?’

Not a compliment, Rose realised. She was here to give him information, information he supposed she possessed but was keeping to herself. ‘I feel sorry for Dennis. He regrets his affair.’

‘No doubt he does. Now.’

‘I think he was manipulated into it. Maggie gives the impression she knows how to handle people. Paul? Well, to be honest, I think he’s just a fool.’

Jack smiled as she took another sip of wine. So far, their opinions coincided. Enough of work, that was not the real reason he had invited her out. ‘How long have you lived here?’

‘Since I left college. I’ve never imagined being able to leave.’

‘I didn’t realise how much I loved it, either, not until I moved away. Come on, I’ll tell you about it while we eat.’

They walked on to the Indian restaurant, where they ordered a main course each and opted to share a portion of rice and a couple of vegetables. ‘Why did you leave?’ Rose asked.

‘Usual story. I was young, thought life was lived elsewhere
and that there was nothing here worth staying for. I went to London, then north. Leeds. I was in the force by then and that’s where I met my wife. We got married, had a couple of kids and then, sounds daft, but I was homesick. I requested a transfer and finally got it. Marian wasn’t keen, she’s a city girl, but she was prepared to give it a try. I pointed out the benefits of bringing the children up down here. Well, it all went wrong. I’m not blaming her. I think she felt the same way about her home as I did mine. Anyway, we decided to call it a day.’

‘And your children?’

‘The boys? They were fourteen and thirteen when Marian left. They took it better than we’d imagined. They’d spent most of their lives in Leeds so it wasn’t an entirely new start for them.’

‘Do you see them?’ Rose hoped she wasn’t asking questions which might cause pain.

‘Oh, yes. They used to come for holidays, begrudgingly at first. My mother looked after them if I was working, then they got involved in water sports and surfing and, of course, in the summer, there were girls. Funny to think they’re men now. Twenty-five and twenty-six. Makes me feel ancient.’

‘So you’re about fifty?’

‘Exactly. Had the big birthday last month.’

‘Equals us up a bit.’

‘What?’

‘You got all my personal details from that first interview.’

A waiter placed hot-plates on the table, then brought the food. Jack watched. Yes, he was right. Rose, having been told they were very hot, was one of those people who just had to touch. She drew her finger back quickly and placed her hands in her lap. ‘I know it’s daft,’ she said, aware he had seen her, ‘but you’re no different.’

‘How come?’ He leaned forward, elbows on the table.

‘When you sat down you automatically pushed your knife and fork in a bit. You watch, loads of people do that.’

‘
Touché.
Like I said, you’re a very observant lady.’

‘I was trained to be.’

‘So was I.’

Stalemate, Rose thought as she helped herself to prawn dopiaza.

Jack Pearce ran her home, watched her safely to the door and departed without getting out of the car. Rose Trevelyan, he thought, as he made his way back to his flat, knows more than she is saying. What made him so sure was not what she had told him, but what she had not mentioned. And how come, if she was on friendly terms with the Miltons, she had not asked whether Dennis was still being held?

Rose’s mood the following morning was carefree and she knew she was now not going to fall into the pit which threatened each year. The anniversary was behind her. She had wanted to ask Jack what was going to happen to Dennis but did not wish to spoil the evening by referring back to that subject.

She wrote a receipt for the cheque she had received, although it was not necessary, and used it as an excuse to visit the Milton household. Anna’s rudeness still rankled; it would be interesting to meet her on her own ground. But she was genuinely concerned about Dennis.

Ignoring Jack Pearce’s warning to keep out of things, she drove to Gwithian and pulled into the driveway. The mobile police unit was no longer there, which made her think an arrest might have taken place.

‘Mrs Trevelyan.’ Doreen Clarke dried her hands on an apron. ‘Mr Milton’s out. I don’t know what to do.’ Her round face was creased with worry. ‘Come in. Come out to the kitchen for a minute. No one’ll disturb us there. Least of all madam.’

The kitchen had every appliance a cook could wish for. Rose was impressed.

‘I expect you’d like some coffee.’ Doreen obviously wanted to detain her. ‘I don’t know whether to go in there or not.’ She nodded vaguely towards the hall. ‘The two of them were shouting at each other.’

‘Who?’

‘Anna, and the other one. Maggie something or other.’

‘Maggie?’

‘Turned up demanding to see Dennis. She said she had something she wanted to tell him. Anna asked her to leave, she said whatever it was could be done over the phone. She refused to go, said it wasn’t Anna’s house. That’s when the shouting started.’

Rose wasn’t surprised. If Anna had been expecting the house to be left to Paul she would wonder how Maggie knew otherwise. ‘Where are they now?’

‘I don’t know. I heard footsteps on the stairs. I suppose Anna’s gone to her room. Can you do anything?’

‘Me? Like what?’

Doreen held out her hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘I don’t know. Talk to them? I don’t want poor Mr Milton to walk back into this. They let him go, you know. I don’t know how they could’ve thought he’d done it. Maggie or no Maggie,’ she added firmly.

So Doreen, too, was aware of the affair. ‘Where’s Paul?’

‘He’s gone into Redruth for something. He didn’t say when he’d be back.’

Just as Doreen handed her a cup of coffee the kitchen door opened.

‘Good heavens. What’s going on? There seems little chance of much privacy in this house.’

‘I didn’t mean to intrude,’ Rose replied.

‘That’s what the other one said.’

Rose placed her cup and saucer gently on the table. ‘I’m not sure why you don’t like me, Anna, but it wasn’t you I came to see.’

‘No. Dennis again, of course. I’d prefer it if you left.’

‘You’re right, it is Dennis and it’s up to him to decide whether or not he wishes to see me. He needs friends at the moment, not histrionics from young girls.’

Doreen gasped, half in shock, half in pleasure. Good for Mrs Trevelyan, she thought.

‘I’m sorry,’ Anna managed to say. ‘It isn’t easy at the moment.’

‘It isn’t easy for anyone, knowing that there is still a murderer out there. Their grievance may not rest with Gabrielle alone.’

‘Oh, really? And how come you’re such a damn expert?’

‘I do not claim to be an expert, I’m simply here to offer Dennis assistance because it’s obviously not forthcoming from his future daughter-in-law.’

‘Get out.’ Anna hissed the words.

Rose hesitated, then, feeling Doreen’s hand touch her arm briefly, stood her ground. ‘I’m staying until Mr Milton returns.’

The door slammed behind Anna, and Rose and Doreen exchanged a look of relief mingled with uncertainty. ‘See what I mean?’ Doreen said. ‘I don’t know what to do, who to let in or anything. Mr Milton left me no instructions.’

‘And he’s going to return to find two uninvited women in his house. Doreen, would it be all right if I went through to the lounge? I might as well chat to Maggie.’

‘Of course, Mrs Trevelyan.’

‘Oh, call me Rose, it’s too much of a mouthful.’

Doreen was pleased. She would be able to tell her friends she was on first-name terms with a real artist.

‘Maggie?’ Rose had opened the door quietly. The woman was seated on the edge of a settee, head bowed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’

‘What a mess it all is. It’s crazy, I can’t keep away from the place. Despite that girl. At least they’ve let Dennis go but from what I’ve heard, it might not be for long. And it’s all my fault. The police suspected me and all I’ve done is to make them think it’s Dennis.’

‘How was that?’ Rose joined her on the settee.

‘Other guests have confirmed that at one point we were both missing from the room. It’s true, and I told the police. I followed him because I wanted to put him straight, to let him know Gabrielle knew. The looks he was giving me! I thought if she did know and hadn’t made any fuss, she might be willing to let him go.’

‘That’s not what you told me, Maggie. You said Gabrielle had invited you to put you at a disadvantage, to let Dennis see what he’d be losing if he went off with you.’

‘I know. And that’s true. I’m sure that’s why she did it, but what I just said holds true as well.’

‘You really did receive an invitation?’

‘Yes.’ She looked surprised.

‘You haven’t exactly stuck to the truth, you see.’

‘No. I was only trying to protect everyone, including myself.’ She reached for her handbag which was on the floor beside her. ‘Here.’ She handed Rose the deckle-edged card, still in its envelope.

Rose had not seen one; her invitation had come via the telephone. The printing was done in black sloping letters, only the name of the recipient had been filled in by hand. The address on the envelope was typed. ‘Did you show this to the police?’

‘Yes. Once they knew about me and Dennis, and Dennis denied he’d asked me, I had to. They thought I’d gate-crashed.’

It wasn’t Dennis’s writing. Even though there were only three words from which to judge they were not written by the same person who had written out the cheque she had received. Dennis wrote in large, sprawled characters and there was hardly enough room for him to sign his name on the bottom.

‘You said Paul knew. About you and Dennis.’

‘If he didn’t know, he must have guessed. He saw us together. We were in a restaurant. Unfortunately we were holding hands at the time. God, you don’t think Paul sent it? Why would he do that?’

‘I don’t know. To show his father what he was doing was wrong, maybe?’ But Rose did not think so. She had other ideas. ‘There’s a car. That must be Dennis.’

‘Stay with me, will you, while I talk to him?’

‘I don’t think that would –’

‘Please, Rose.’

Maggie had become agitated and the appeal in her eyes could not be ignored.

‘All right.’

They heard voices in the hall, one male, one female. Doreen Clarke must also have heard the car and warned her employer.

‘Hello.’ Dennis came into the room. His face was expressionless and he looked exhausted.

‘Maggie has something to say to you. She asked if I’d stay while she did so.’ Rose then clasped her hands together and closed her mouth. She had done her bit.

‘Dennis, I appreciate your telephone call the other night. I understand how you feel.’

‘Do you? I doubt that. Your wife hasn’t been killed.’

‘No. I meant about me. I just wanted … Jesus, this isn’t easy. I just wanted to say that I never meant to hurt anyone. I didn’t give Gabrielle a thought when it started. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry if I said anything to the police which misled them. I couldn’t telephone, I wanted to say it to your face. Besides, I thought you’d hang up. I accept it’s over, Dennis, and I won’t trouble you again.’

‘You came all the way down here just to tell me that?’

‘Yes. I didn’t want it to end the way it had.’

Rose was as surprised as Dennis appeared to be. She had imagined Maggie was going to come out with something a little more earth-shattering. However, it had probably salved her conscience a little.

‘And in the process I’ve upset Anna.’ But Maggie did not offer an apology on that count. ‘I’ll go now.’

Dennis nodded and held the door open for her. From where she was sitting Rose saw Maggie look back once. She thought she might have been crying.

‘Rose?’

‘I just happened to be here. I came to see if there was anything I could do to help. I didn’t know if they’d kept you at Camborne.’

‘No. But they’ve asked me to remain here. It doesn’t matter. Paul’s not back yet?’

‘No. Dennis, Anna asked me to leave, but I said I’d prefer to wait and see you. I hope I haven’t added to your problems.’

‘Anna has no right to do that. Ignore her. She’s neurotic at times and I think she’s very frightened. Despite what Paul told you the other night, she’s led a sheltered life. This has upset her, and she’s getting in a state about the wedding.’

‘It’s still on?’

Dennis glanced at her sharply. ‘Yes. Of course. Thank you, Rose.’

‘For what?’

‘For coming. For taking an interest. I’m very much in need of a friend right now. Paul’s got Anna to consider and my colleagues in London don’t seem to be returning my calls.’

No, Rose thought. She had seen it before. People felt threatened in such situations. Dennis’s wife had been murdered, he himself was being considered as a suspect, and he was about to be made redundant. He was probably regarded as a loser and no one wanted that sort of luck to rub off on them. How lucky she had been in her own friends when David died. ‘You’ve got my number. I’d better go now.’ She had forgotten the pretext of the receipt in her bag.

There was so much to think about. Ought she to tell Jack what she suspected? No, he would be annoyed. Jack. Already she had dropped the Inspector Pearce bit. And tonight she was repaying Barry for the meal he had cooked and the two he had insisted on buying in London. On the second evening he had outwitted her by asking for the bill on the way out to the toilet and paying it upon his return.

Barry arrived promptly at seven thirty and she poured him a can of beer she had got in especially. ‘Go and sit down while I finish out here,’ she told him. It was dusk; the table lamps were already on and the artificial coals of the gas fire glowed, although there was no need for the fire itself.

Ten minutes later Rose joined him. ‘I went to see Dennis today.’

‘How nice.’

‘He doesn’t have anyone else to turn to.’

‘He’s got a son, and the girlfriend, and a housekeeper. Three more than I’ve got.’

‘Whatever’s the matter with you?’

‘You might’ve told me.’

‘Told you what?’

‘Not only are you hob-nobbing with the Miltons, which doesn’t look too good so soon after Gabrielle’s death, but you’re going out with the bloke who’s running the case.’

‘I see.’ Rose stared at her drink. Wherever she turned lately
people started having a go at her. ‘My social life is my own affair, Barry. I don’t have to answer to you. And I am not going out with Jack Pearce, as you put it. He took me for a meal because he wanted to discuss a few things.’

‘I bet he did.’

‘If you’re going to be like this all evening I can’t see there’s much point in your staying.’

‘Sorry, Rosie. I just hate it when you get obsessed about things. I feel I’m losing you. I value your friendship, you see, more than you may realise.’

She understood but said nothing. This was not just about friendship; Barry was jealous. Seeing his familiar face, the hair brushed over his scalp, the glasses already slipping, she wondered if a different kind of relationship was possible. He was attentive and kind and understanding and punctual. Not once in either business or pleasure had he let her down. But look how he was tonight, and how he had been on other occasions. If they were together permanently she suspected he would want to know where she was every minute of the day. No can do, she thought, as a picture of Jack Pearce’s face came into her mind.

‘And I’m worried about you, Rose.’

‘Worried?’

‘When you get your teeth into something, you won’t let go. It’s unhealthy. And’, he added, sitting upright as if the thought had just occurred to him, ‘you could be in danger.’

Rose frowned. She had told Anna that the murderer had not yet been caught. Barry might be right. And was that why Jack had warned her off? But what did anyone have to fear from her?

‘OK. We won’t talk about it any more. Have you had any come-back from the trade fair yet?’

‘A couple of orders have trickled in. It takes a while. Don’t forget, I picked up several while we were there.’

She had forgotten. She had been too busy thinking about other things. ‘How did you know about Jack?’ That subject could not be dropped until her curiosity had been satisfied.

‘You were seen.’

Rose laughed. ‘You make it sound so ominous.
You
were 
seen
.’ She mimicked his tone. ‘I wasn’t doing anything people can’t know about.’

‘They’ll know all right.’

‘Right. The food’s almost ready. If you’re going to sulk you can go, if not you can join me. Now act your age and drink that beer. There’s three more cans in the kitchen.’

He smiled sheepishly. ‘What’ve we got?’

‘Bacon, with apple and red cabbage. It’s Polish, I think.’

‘And the wine?’

‘The Co-op’s finest. But plentiful.’ Rose sighed. The status quo had been restored.

An hour later it was completely dark and there was a stillness outside. The window was open because the kitchen was over-warm from the oven being on. They both looked up when they heard the first drops of rain hit the glass. They were followed by a clap of thunder which made Rose jump. Lightning illuminated the garden for a split second. The storm had started almost immediately overhead. Sometimes they would last for hours, just rolling round the bay, not affecting other areas. The lights flickered. Rose got up and fetched a couple of night-lights from the drawer, along with a box of matches. They were safer than candles and had originally come with a food warmer she never used. She would not be badly affected if the electricity did go off; both cooker and heating were gas and the water in the immersion heater would stay hot until at least the morning.