The Boat House (12 page)

Richard frowned. ‘But surely if Nan had anything to tell she would have contacted the police.’

Donald said, ‘Not if she had been asked specifically to keep Leonora’s whereabouts a secret. Even if Ivy Busby had no concrete evidence but just suspicions, she may have decided it was prudent to keep them to herself. And she was also probably mortified that she had been abruptly thrown out into the wide world after a long sheltered existence within a supportive family.’ He looked at Richard. ‘She may have thought, “To hell with the lot of them!” or words to that effect.’

After a moment’s silence it was Judith’s turn. ‘Do you know if your family heard from the nanny after she was banished from the Matlowe household?’

‘Not to my knowledge. But hey! I was only a youngster, remember, so my parents didn’t tell me everything. But Leonora wrote to me until she disappeared. We weren’t close while we were at home together but she seemed to need the contact after she’d left for England. Nothing, however, after she disappeared. I have a few of her letters that give a pretty clear idea of relations between Leonora and Neil’s mother.’ He produced a letter from his own file. ‘Shall I read it out?’

‘Please,’ said Donald. ‘Then Judith can hear it. She’s not just my secretary. She’s my partner most of the time. Right now she’s putting the Montini file to bed but she’ll be listening.’

‘Try and stop me!’ she laughed.

‘Here goes then.
Dear Richie, Here I am again! Thought you’d like a few words from far away. I’m well and so are the babies. I am longing to bring them home. You will adore them. I know it’s a cliché but I truly believe that our two girls are the sweetest, the prettiest and the cleverest in the whole world. Neil is quite infatuated by them and whenever they fall asleep he waits impatiently for them to wake up again so he can amuse them with rattles and whatnot. He calls them ‘double trouble’ but in a nice way . . .
’

He glanced up. ‘I can imagine that. He was so excited by the idea of becoming a father.’

Judith shook her head. ‘And then it all turned sour. Poor soul . . . But do go on.’

‘
But you asked me about my new mother-in-law. I’m sad to say that Mrs M took one look at me and hated me! I know you won’t believe me but she did. I have taken her baby boy from her and she is never going to forgive me. Even Neil agrees that she is behaving like a jealous shrew and nothing I can do will please her. He is totally at a loss.

‘
Neil has sprung to my defence on more than one occasion but that makes the old bat worse than ever. I never imagined that being a daughter-in-law would be so difficult.

‘
Don’t say anything to Mother or Father, they will only fret about me and there’s nothing they can do to help.
’

He glanced up. ‘I think she was pretty unhappy around that time. It infuriated me that I was too young to help her in any way.’

Judith said, ‘I suppose she needed to let off steam to someone and you were the one.’

Donald said thoughtfully, ‘What are you actually expecting to discover, Mr— sorry, Richard. Her whereabouts? What happened to her? Are you hoping to
find
her after all this time?’

Richard shrugged, hesitated and said, ‘A very good question! I don’t think I have an answer.
All I could do to please her would be to quarrel with my beloved Neil and walk out of his life forever. Then she would have Neil and the two babies all to herself. But guess what, Richie? Your big sister is made of sterner stuff. I’m not leaving! Do write again. I long for letters from home. Your loving sister, Leonora
.’

Judith sighed. ‘
I’m not leaving!
’ she quoted. ‘And then we are expected to believe that she did just that.’

Richard folded the letter then looked up. ‘I want to satisfy myself that nothing bad happened to her. I want to be sure that nobody . . . killed her. I’ve never felt easy in my mind that she just walked out on her husband and the twins. I tried to believe – we all did – that she had been on her way back to us when she met someone else and started a new life. That’s my parents’ version and it gives them some relief to believe that.’

‘But not you.’

‘Not me. I think she met someone on her way back to us – someone evil. I think she was murdered.’

‘But the police found nothing to indicate foul play.’

‘That doesn’t mean there was nothing to find.’

Judith had closed the Montini folder and now slid it into a drawer in her desk. ‘Mr Montini will soon have his headstone.’ Smiling, she leaned forward, resting her arms on the desk and clasping her hands. ‘So where do we go from here?’

Richard smiled faintly. ‘You’re going to ask me if I suspect anyone. The answer’s no, but I
am
beginning to wonder about Mrs Matlowe’s part in all this. She seems so repressed. So hostile towards me. I wonder if she knows more than she’s willing to say. In other words, is she protecting someone? Her son, for instance. You say, Donald, that the police suspected him at one stage in the proceedings but they found absolutely no evidence.’

Donald looked thoughtful. ‘From what I deduced from the police file it almost seemed at one stage in the investigation that Mrs Matlowe had suspected her son, although it seems very unlikely. Apparently it was Mrs Matlowe who first hinted that maybe something bad had happened to Leonora that prevented her from coming home when she’d cooled off. But that may be why Neil went off, allegedly in search of his wife but actually to avoid arrest.’

Richard considered this for a moment. ‘You mean she alerted the police to the fact that it might have been her own son. A bit far-fetched, isn’t it?’

Judith leaned forward. ‘She probably didn’t intend to – it might have slipped out. Maybe she heard them having a row . . . maybe Neil had a violent temper and she feared it might get out of hand. Then when she ran off Neil went after her and . . . maybe he found her and they had another row over his mother and he lost his temper, killed her accidentally and hid her body somewhere.’

Her cousin frowned. ‘And then someone went after him and . . . What do we know about that car accident?’

Richard shrugged. ‘You know, I went to that site where he was killed in the car crash. I spoke to the police and they were puzzled. The patrolmen insisted there was no other vehicle involved. Neil drove off a mountain road on a bend. One of them reckoned he had killed himself deliberately. Another reckoned he was just driving too fast for the corner. But he could have swerved to avoid a coyote or something. Or to avoid another vehicle that didn’t stop because the driver didn’t know he’d gone over the edge. Or claimed he didn’t know. There was a whole heap of possibilities.’

‘Do you think,’ Donald asked, ‘that Neil’s death and Leonora’s disappearance were somehow linked?’

‘I can’t figure that out. I can’t find a link yet but there may be one. I promised my folks if there was anything to be found I’d do my darnedest to find it. I’m taking the twins to the zoo tomorrow but the following day I’ll go see Nan. I hope she recognizes me. Nobody is sure of her age, it was always a well guarded secret, but she may be becoming forgetful, to say the least.’ Richard shrugged. ‘If she
does
know anything that will help me find Leonora – or even just find out what happened to her – it will be a bonus.’

Judith smiled. ‘It will be a thrill for her to see you again.’

‘She last knew me as a troublesome sixteen-year-old, because we haven’t seen each other since she left for England with Leonora and the babies.’ His grin broadened. ‘I wanted to stop calling her Nanny because it sounded so babyish and offered to call her Nan instead but she fought me tooth and nail. She said she was a nanny, not a nan.’

‘Who won the argument?’ Donald asked.

‘Neither of us. I guess you could say it was a truce. I didn’t call her anything, and she pretended not to notice. But this time I’ll call her Nanny – for old times’ sake!’

Judith smiled. ‘An amazing reunion, then.’

‘You can say that again!’

SEVEN

T
en minutes before they closed for the day Judith broke the news to her cousin that she was expecting a child.

‘A child?’ He stared at her. ‘You mean you’ll be leaving me? How on earth will I manage without you?’

She gave him a frosty look. ‘Is that the best you can do, Donald? I tell you the most exciting thing of my life and all you can say . . .’

‘Judith! Oh my God!’ He rolled his eyes. ‘What a selfish brute I am. Please forgive me.’

‘Well, I won’t! Selfish, inconsiderate, insensitive . . .’ She sighed theatrically. ‘I tell you you’re going to be an uncle and all you can think of is . . .’

‘An
uncle
!’

Suspiciously she narrowed her eyes. ‘So, Donald, you have one last chance to put things right.’

He adopted an expression of exaggerated delight. ‘Dear Judith, what extraordinary news. You are expecting a child! Wonderful!’

‘Not convincing, Donald!’ she told him crossly. ‘This is me, about to become a mother. Your cousin and business partner.’

‘Secretary!’ His mouth twitched.

‘Business partner! Donald, you have to be impressed.’ She looked at him imploringly.

At last he grinned and moved close to give her a congratulatory kiss. ‘Congratulations, my dearest cousin, friend, confidante – and business partner. You are incredible, Judith. Not only do you do my typing, answer my telephone, file my letters, make the coffee and help me with the investigating – you also, in your spare time, manage to produce a child!’

‘Oh stop it!’ Exasperated, she laughed.

‘No seriously, I’m bowled over. When will you be leaving? No! I’ll put it another way. When is the happy event? Have you told your parents? Do you want a boy or a girl? Tell me everything.’

‘It’s due in January, yes, and we’d like a boy.’ She pulled the cover over her typewriter.

‘Am I old enough to be an uncle?’

‘You’re almost too old! You should be a father by now, Donald. Why don’t you find yourself a nice girl and settle down?’

‘A nice girl who can type . . . yes.’ He kept his face straight.

‘Donald! You have a one-track mind! There’s more to life than “Donald Watson, Private Investigator” – or there ought to be.’

‘Is Tom pleased?’

‘Thrilled to bits. We both are.’

‘It’s great news, Judith, and it calls for a celebration. Open the door of the cupboard.’

‘The cupboard? Why?’

‘You’ll see.’

He watched her face as she threw open the door and saw a bottle of champagne nestling in a basket of straw and two champagne flutes. ‘Oh, Donald!’ She turned to him, accusingly. ‘You knew all along! You rotter! Leading me on like that. Who told you? Not Tom?’

‘No. You told your mother in confidence and your mother told my mother in confidence . . .’ He collected the bottle, opened it and carefully filled the glasses. ‘I wanted you to tell me in your own time and in your own way.’ He handed her a glass and raised his own. ‘Here’s to you and Tom and your first baby!’ They clinked glasses and sipped, both beaming with pleasure.

Judith said, ‘But seriously, Donald, you know I wouldn’t leave you for any other reason. I expect to leave in October, so you must try and find a replacement so that we can overlap for a week or two. I want to make sure she is going to be suitable for you.’

‘She? I might choose a male secretary.’

‘Oh no, Donald! That wouldn’t be at all suitable. You need a woman’s intuition – a woman’s way of looking at things – to complement your own. I’ve thought about it, and when you interview the applicants, you must choose someone with tact and discretion and warmth. Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘Are these the traits I lack?’

‘Now would I say such a thing? No, but women can sympathize with, say, a woman whose husband is seeing someone else.’ She regarded him earnestly. ‘She could cry all over me but not you. And she needs to have good grammar for the letters and a pleasant telephone manner . . . and lots of patience and be willing to do overtime. Also have an interest in investigative work.’

Donald drained his glass and waited for hers to be emptied. As he refilled them he said, ‘Why don’t you do the interviews for me, Judith?’

Her serious expression was instantly replaced by one of intense satisfaction. ‘Oh, Donald, of
course
I will. I thought you’d never ask!’

Ida arrived promptly at eight thirty while Georgina was still eating breakfast, and decided that she could eat ‘just a little more’.

Georgina, fully dressed and looking nervous, said, ‘There are stewed apples, also toast and marmalade. Help yourself while Lorna refreshes the teapot.’

She was still unsure whether or not it had been a mistake to invite her sister to stay but the thought of the coming confrontation with Richard Preston was making her stomach churn and Ida’s large, noisy presence made Georgina feel slightly less anxious.

‘So they’re going to the zoo.’ As usual Ida was straight to the point. ‘I’ve thought about it on the way over, to take my mind off the crowded tram. Lord, what a rabble! Old, young, dogs on leads, cats in baskets, babies in arms, toddlers bawling, couples arguing – and all before eight thirty! I pitied the conductor. I’d have stopped the tram and sent them all packing but that’s public transport for you! Mm! Very good marmalade. Did your cook make it?’

‘I bought it at a bring and buy sale, if you must know, but seriously, I do wonder, Ida, if I should let the girls go with him. Suppose he doesn’t bring them back or one of them has an accident? I’d never forgive myself. I feel I owe it to Neil to . . .’

‘Now don’t start all that nonsense about Neil. It’s morbid, Georgina. I don’t mean this unkindly but neither he nor Leonora stayed around to care for the girls so you don’t have to apologize to either of them for anything.’ She sipped her tea and pulled a disapproving face. ‘I do wish you’d buy some Earl Grey, Georgina. This is much too strong. All that tannin!’ She added more milk. ‘But as for today, why would Richard want to keep them? How can he look after them at his age? And anyway, I thought he was here to try and find his sister – or find out what happened to her.’