An April Shroud

18

'Was she your first?' asked Dalziel.

'Yes.'

'And Hank fixed you up?'

'Yes.'

'Well,' said the fat detective with an effort at jocularity, 'we've all got to start some time and it's best to start with an expert.'

The room had been cleared except for Nigel and his mother. They sat on the sofa while opposite them Dalziel and Balderstone lounged in armchairs. Cross had gone upstairs with Hereward who had folded up like an evening daisy when the boy appeared. Pascoe stood quietly in the window bay.

'So you had been intimate with Mrs Greave since she came to this house?' asked Balderstone delicately.

'Come on, Inspector,' said Bonnie scornfully. 'I didn't bring up my children to be mealy-mouthed!'

'Did you know of this relationship, ma'am?' enquired Balderstone.

'Not till too late,' said Bonnie.

'And when you found out, what did you do?'

'What should I do?' she asked. 'I saw no harm in it. I thought she was Pappy's daughter, remember. A nice respectable widow who happened to have hot pants. Like the Superintendent says, we've all got to start somewhere and it was better than getting some local kid into trouble.'

Dalziel took up the questioning again. His voice had a strange quality which puzzled Pascoe, who had attended the fat man's interrogations more times than he could remember. But this intonation was new to him.

'After your father's funeral you decided to run away?'

'Yes,' said Nigel. He had spoken only the minimum necessary to answer questions. He looked pale but composed. Only occasional quick flickers of his eyes from one extreme of vision to the other hinted at agitation.

'But you didn't get far. It was too wet. You came back to shelter.'

'Yes.'

'And you hid in Mrs Greave's room?'

'Yes.'

Dalziel nodded and scratched his nose.

'I thought it was Papworth,' he explained to Balderstone. 'Only, when I searched his room, I couldn't find any suede shoes. Any road, I doubt if he eats doughnuts for breakfast! We nearly bumped into each other once or twice, eh, lad?'

The boy nodded.

'So you were here all the time. And when I found you in the billiards-room with your rucksack, you hadn't just come back. No, you were just on your way out then. I wondered how you knew my name! You were waiting till Herrie got me safely out of the way to Orburn, then off you would go and as far as I was concerned the one person who could know nothing about Annie's death was you. Right? But you did know something about it, didn't you, Nigel?'

The boy nodded. His mother put her arm protectively over his shoulder. They were large shoulders, Pascoe realized. The large frame of the elder brother was all here, though unhung as yet with Bertie's superfluous flesh. He was a powerful young man, powerful enough to.. .

'I killed her,' he said blankly.

'Tell us about it,' said Dalziel gently.

Why doesn't his mother intervene? wondered Pascoe. There's no need to let him answer these questions now. She could get her solicitor here for a start.

'She just packed up and said she was going. I found her getting ready and when I tried to persuade her to stay, she just laughed at first. I tried to stop her and we had a fight. We ended up on the bed and, well, I thought it was going to be all right then. But after we'd finished, she just went back to her packing.'

He fell silent and glanced at his mother.

Dalziel coughed phlegmily.

'You were fond of her?' he said.

'Yes,' said Nigel lowly. 'I told her I loved her. I thought she felt the same. But she laughed again, told me to grow up. She'd never treated me like a child before. I started unpacking her case and she got angry. She pushed me away, I hit her, she said things about my father…'

'What things?' demanded Balderstone.

'About your father making love to her?' said Dalziel quickly.

'Yes. She said that. She said that I was being a bloody nuisance now like he'd been. I didn't believe her, but then she started saying things about my mother too. We had another fight, only this time.. .'

His agitation was quite clear now. His mother's arm tightened around him, but still she didn't speak.

'But you didn't mean to kill her,' urged Dalziel.

No wonder Bonnie doesn't bother with a solicitor, thought Pascoe. This was the unfamiliar intonation in Dalziel's voice. Defence counsel trying to lead his witness.

'No. I was just angry.'

'And afterwards you went out and found Herrie?' said Dalziel. He was recalling the photos he had looked at in Uniffs room. In one of them Herrie had been standing by the door, apparently talking to someone in the corridor. In the subsequent shots, the old man had disappeared. Everyone else was accounted for except for himself and Bonnie, upstairs on the bed (his mind quickly suppressed the image), Papworth allegedly drinking in the Green Man, and of course Annie Greave, already by this time he now knew lying dead in her room. His mind had been toying with the limited permutations for ten days now. Nigel had made an appearance at a subconscious level long before he would permit him to take the lead.

'Yes,' said the boy. 'I locked the door. Charley tried it, but I just kept quiet. Then I slipped out and nearly bumped into you and my mother.'

He turned to Bonnie and said, 'I was going to look for you but I couldn't say anything when I saw you with him, could I?'

Bonnie shook her head slowly.

'No. I'm afraid you couldn't, darling.'

Balderstone took up the questioning.

'Why did your grandfather and yourself put the body in Butt's car?'

'He wanted to use the Rover, but Mother had the keys and she was with Mr Dalziel. Mr Butt had left the keys in his car. Herrie thought that Mr Butt was so drunk he'd be hours. But just after we'd got the boot shut, he came out of the house. He didn't see me, but he saw Herrie by the car. They talked for a moment, then he drove away.'

No wonder the old man had believed he could offer himself as a decoy. If Butt's memory had been stimulated by interrogation, then the meeting with Hereward by his car would have been strong circumstantial evidence.

Pascoe wondered how far he had intended to go. Would his actions have been merely diversionary or was he willing to go the whole hog and confess in order to protect his grandson?

And how far would Nigel have let him go? There was in this boy, Pascoe suspected, a broad vein of the tough self-interest which characterized both his brother and, by report, his father.

'What about Mr Spinx?' Balderstone now demanded. 'Hadn't Annie rung him and asked him to give her a lift?'

Pascoe wondered if Dalziel had outlined his theory to Balderstone or if the local man had arrived at the same conclusion independently.

'I don't know anything about Mr Spinx,' said the boy emphatically.

'All right, son,' said Balderstone unexpectedly. 'That'll do for now. Mrs Fielding, we'll have to take Nigel down to the station with us, you realize that. You may accompany him, of course, just as you or your representative may be present at any further interrogations. Perhaps you'd like to put some overnight things together for the lad.'

As Bonnie left the room, Cross entered.

'I've got a statement of sorts from the old man,' he said. 'He doesn't half ramble on! The doctor's here now and he's given him a sedative. I thought there'd be plenty of time for another go later, when he's more himself.'

'Yes,' said Balderstone. 'Plenty of time. Would you take Nigel out to my car, Sergeant?'

The boy turned at the door and said very formally, 'Good night.'

'Watch how you go, son,' said Dalziel. 'By the way Sergeant Cross, I've been meaning to ask, you ever catch your chicken thief?'

'No, sir,' said Cross.

'We served chicken tonight. I've a notion Papworth supplied them. We never did find where he was the night Mrs Greave disappeared. And his room stinks. A word to the wise.'

'Thanks,' said Cross, ushering the boy out.

'Well, sir, that seems to wrap it up,' said the Chief Inspector. 'I was surprised that the mother was so co-operative, but it looks as if we'll have a nice detailed confession all signed and sealed before we get to bed.'

'It's good for the soul,' answered Dalziel. 'What's your guess – manslaughter?'

'Not for me to say,' answered Balderstone. 'You'll call to see me tomorrow, sir, and we'll get what you've got to say down on paper too? Then it's back to your own patch.'

'That's it,' said Dalziel. 'Eight sharp on Monday morning.'

'Right then. I'm sorry how it's worked out, all this,' said Balderstone making a vague gesture with his hands. 'Tell Mrs Fielding we're waiting in the car.'

He left and Pascoe came out of the bay.

'You still here,' grunted Dalziel.

'You forget, my in-laws have gone off home in my transport. Perhaps I should ask Balderstone for a lift.'

'No. He'll be crowded. You come along with me. I'll just put my gear together.'

'You're leaving?' asked Pascoe in surprise. Such diplomatic gestures were not usual in his superior.

'I can hardly stay on, can I?' said Dalziel. 'Not after… well, anyway, it's back to the Lady Hamilton for me. Fitting, really. That's where it all started. Which reminds me.'

He stuck his head out of the door and shouted, 'Charley!'

After a few moments, Tillotson appeared. With him was Louisa. On the whole, Dalziel decided, studying the effect of their almost identical silk tunics, Tillotson was the curvier of the two.

'Is it true?' asked Charley. 'That you've arrested Nigel, I mean?'

'Yes, it is,' said Dalziel. 'I'm sorry.'

'Poor sprout,' said Louisa. 'I told you no good would come of it.'

'But you couldn't foresee this!' protested Tillotson.

'Not precisely. But I could foresee something, which is more than you could do. It takes you all the time to foresee past your stupid pointed nose!' snapped Louisa.

'Don't be ridiculous, Lou,' said Tillotson. 'All Hank did was fix Nigel up with a bit of sex. My God, I sometimes wish he'd fix me up.'

The fist came snaking out in the same fierce, uninhibited punch as before. Tillotson, in whom familiarity seemed to have bred faster reflexes, managed to duck and take the blow on his temple. Even so he staggered a pace backwards and the girl had gone by the time he recovered. Dalziel wisely avoided involvement this time.

'Why did she punch you in the Lady Hamilton?' he asked. It was a question that somehow he had never got round to asking.

'Much the same thing,' answered Tillotson, gingerly touching his head in search of a wound. 'She said it was disgusting, especially as Conrad, her step-father, had been having it off with Mrs Greave too. I told her I didn't blame him, I wouldn't mind myself, and bang! I was knocked flat.'

'You mean you knew? You all knew? About Nigel and Conrad and Annie? Then you must have suspected what had happened when Annie's body was found?'

'Certainly,' said Tillotson. 'You didn't have to be a detective to work that out. Nigel will be all right, won't he? He's only a boy. I say, we made a hell of a lot of cash tonight. We've just been counting it up in the kitchen. Shall I show you the figures?'

'Go away!' said Dalziel. 'Just go away.'

He went upstairs to pack. In the hall he passed Ellie who glowered at him inimically from the shadowy corner she was sitting in. They did not speak.

Before going to his own room he went along the landing and tapped at Hereward's door. There was no answer and he peered inside. The old man's head lay on the pillow, still majestic in repose. He breathed deeply and regularly. It was good to see him looking so peaceful, thought Dalziel approaching the bed.

'I'm sorry about all this, Herrie,' he said. Apologies were easy to the sleeping and the dead. He turned to leave but as he did so, the old man's eyelids flickered and his thin tenor piped almost inaudibly. 'Oh the life of the spirit's a very fine thing But you can't be a monk without flogging your ring.'

Then the regular ebb and flow of his breathing resumed.

Downstairs with his case, Dalziel found Pascoe and Ellie waiting for him. Bonnie had left with Balderstone, Pascoe told him.

'Did she say anything,' asked Dalziel pointlessly.

'No.'

In the car on their way to Orburn the trio sat in silence for the first five miles. It was Ellie who broke it.

'I suppose we should congratulate you,' she said suddenly.

'What for?' asked Dalziel.

'Coming through with flying colours. All these temptations to act like a human being and you still managed to be true to yourself. The patron saint of policemen must be proud of you. You've told the truth and shamed the devil!'

'Aye,' grunted Dalziel. 'I'm glad to see marriage has mellowed you.'

He pressed viciously on the accelerator and the car leapt forward. Pascoe sitting in the back rammed his knees into the back of Ellie's seat, partly as a safety precaution and partly as a warning. His married life was going to require many such warnings, he told himself. He didn't rate his chances of being a Chief Constable by forty very highly.

'There are still some things I don't understand,' he said in what Ellie called his let's-change-the-subject tone of voice.

'Me too,' said Ellie.

Pascoe ignored her and ploughed on.

'This business of Nigel running away and then coming back and hiding round the house. I mean, why do it? You're not telling me his mother didn't know.'

'No,' said Dalziel. 'Old Herrie didn't at first, though. We almost got ourselves drowned looking for the lad, so Bonnie faked a phone call from him saying he was safe and sound. Quick thinking, that. Someone rang, Spinx I think, and she must have pressed down the rest and pretended she was talking to Nigel.'

He spoke admiringly.

'Yes. But why?' pressed Pascoe. 'And why did Annie Greave ring Spinx? What was she going to tell him? And what really happened to Spinx? You said you thought he might have been lugged around in the punt? What does Balderstone think?'

'You know me,' said Dalziel. 'I wouldn't presume to tell anyone else how to run their case.'

Jesus wept! thought Pascoe. He'd tell God how to run heaven if he got the chance.

'And I still don't understand why Hereward really decided to invest in the business,' he went on.

'Pressure,' said Dalziel. 'You heard Charley Tillotson. I bet they all knew what was going on. I wouldn't be surprised if Big Brother Bertie hadn't threatened to shop Nigel if Herrie didn't shell out.'

'Happy families,' said Pascoe.

'God, you two are so smug and superior!' exploded Ellie. 'They're people, some nice, some nasty.'

'I know it,' said Dalziel.

'But you don't let the distinction bother you?' she demanded.

He didn't reply and they completed the journey in silence.

'See you on Monday morning, sir,' said Pascoe as they parted outside his father-in-law's house.

'Good night,' said Dalziel and drove away.

'Ellie,' said Pascoe. 'Why don't you practise what you preach some time.'

'Meaning?'

'Meaning that you might try to understand rather than just judge.'

She slammed the front gate so hard that a light went on in her parents' bedroom. Pascoe smiled. It was a small sign of remorse. Slowly, thinking about Dalziel, he followed her up the garden path.

Dalziel had been in bed an hour when the phone rang. He answered it instantly.

'I've just got back from the police station,' said Bonnie. 'The night porter at the Lady Hamilton didn't sound pleased at being woken.'

'Sod him,' said Dalziel.

'Andy,' she said finally. 'Will they find out?'

'About Conrad? I don't know.'

'Anchor are going to pay up, did I tell you?'

'Are they?'

'Yes. Andy, why didn't you say anything?'

'Because I don't know anything. Not for certain.'

It was true. He did not know for certain that the Propananol tablets in the bathroom cabinet had been prescribed to Conrad Fielding for his heart condition, though he did know for certain that no mention of the condition had been made to Anchor Insurance. All Conrad had to do to get the life cover required by the finance house for a short-term loan was to sign a declaration that he was in perfect health and give the address of his local doctor. The tablets had been obtained in London, where no doubt the diagnosis had been obtained also.

Nor did Dalziel know for certain that Conrad had had an attack while up the ladder in the banqueting hall. Nor that Nigel had found him and fetched his mother. Nor that Bonnie, realizing that death from a long-established heart condition would invalidate the insurance policy, had taken the still running drill and held it to her husband's chest. Perhaps it had caught him as he fell, perhaps that was what gave her the idea. In any case, Dalziel knew none of these things for certain. But, if true, they explained much. They explained why once she discovered he was a policeman she wanted to keep Nigel out of his way. They explained why Mrs Greave, who could have seen Conrad taking his pills on one of the occasions he slept with her, had felt her knowledge might be worth money to Spinx.

This was all reasonable supposition.

But some things Dalziel did know for certain. He had seen the pathologist's report on Conrad Fielding's post mortem examination. The doctor had had no inducement to examine the tattered remains of the man's heart for any damage other than that caused by the drill. Told of a suspected heart condition, he might indeed have been able to find traces. But it wouldn't have mattered.

For beyond any doubt, Conrad Fielding had died from the cause stated. When the drill plunged into his heart, he was still alive.

Bonnie could not have known that, Dalziel assured himself. She had believed that the physical effect of mutilating a dead man was the same as a live one. Her crime (if there were a crime) had been an attempt to obtain insurance money fraudulently.

But he could never be certain of this without becoming certain of all the other things he did not care to know.

'When will we see you again, Andy?' she asked.

'I don't know,' he said. 'I'm a busy man.'

'Lots of crime in Yorkshire,' she said with an effort at lightness.

'Aye.'

'But you've got business interests here.'

'Happen Bertie would be pleased to buy me out.'

'If that's what you want,' she said.

'That's it.'

'Well then. We'll be in touch.'

He put the receiver down without saying good night and let his great grey head relax on the pillow. Thoughts flitted madly through his mind. He lay there waiting for their mad whirling dance to exhaust itself. In the end, as always, the last to fade was a policeman's thought. What had been the circumstances in which Bonnie's first husband had drowned in the lake – and how much insurance did he have?

He didn't want to know that either. He felt exhausted but reluctant to sleep. With a sigh he turned over on his side, reached out to the bedside table, picked up The Last Days of Pompeii and opened it at his place.