Dark Rooms

Chapter Fifteen

They had dinner at a small Italian restaurant and after a couple of glasses of red wine, Jane began to relax. She liked the fact that Eddie did not probe for more details about what had gone on at the station that day. In fact, he spent most of the time discussing how the work in her house would progress, so she was surprised when he suddenly changed the subject and asked if the photo album that he had looked at with her had proved to be important.

‘Actually, that album caused a bit of a problem for me. I’d taken it without permission from the woman I was trying to interview. She has advanced dementia. The station received an unpleasant call from her nephew about it. He spoke to my boss, making threats, and then came round to my house to collect it. He was really suspicious, telling me sweetly that he had a very frail mother — which turned out to be a lie because I’ve checked, and his mother is in good health. And he said he’d got my address from his lawyer, but that was also a lie because I never gave it to him. But what I really can’t understand why he created such a stink about the album.’

‘There must be something in the album he didn’t want you to find. And he was so desperate to get it, he followed you home from the station.’

‘I can’t see what that could have been. Unless...’ She paused, bending down to rummage in her bag.

She held up the old envelope. ‘This had been stuck inside the back of the album and it must have fallen loose. I had it in my hand when I answered a call and must have put it on the table. Then he arrived and took the album, and I forgot I still had it.’

‘Was that what you were looking for the other morning?’ Eddie asked.

She nodded. ‘When your lads moved things around in the hall I thought I’d mislaid it.’

She opened the envelope and took out the thick folded pages. ‘It’s a family tree... do you remember when you said the girls in one of the photos reminded you of Czar Nicholas’s daughters? And I found out their father was actually a Russian count — Count Antonin Petrukhin?’

Eddie nodded. ‘Oh, yeah.’

‘Well, we’ve been checking the dates, and he married their mother when she was about fourteen years of age.’

He tutted. ‘He’d be arrested for that now.’

This was the first time Jane had really looked at the rest of the family tree.

‘This is interesting,’ she said. ‘We have Beatrice married to a...’ She paused and turned the page to show Eddie. ‘Beatrice is the middle sister, the one I am going to see in Australia. Then you see beneath her a son, Matthew, and then a second son, Jason. He’s the one who came to see me. But look at the arrow and the date of the marriage. She married John Alfred Thorpe. I think he was a bus driver or something. They ran away to be married in Australia.’

‘What’s odd about that?’

‘Well, it looks like she wasn’t married to this John Thorpe until after the birth of her children. Then, see the arrow down... he died five years after the marriage. But surely this couldn’t be what he was so desperate to keep hidden.’

‘Sounds odd, but maybe there’s money involved?’ Eddie suggested.

Jane nodded. ‘The house in Stockwell must have sold for a lot of money and the nephew, Jason, had power of attorney for his aunt Helena.’

Eddie shrugged. ‘Maybe the brothers had a falling out?’

Jane shook her head. ‘No, I remember something else. Jason said his brother was mentally challenged, so I think Jason must inherit everything.’

Eddie looked at his watch. ‘It’s getting late and if you want to have a long soak in my bath, we should get moving.’

Reluctantly, Jane carefully folded up the pages of the family tree and put them back in her bag. The secrets of the Lanark family would have to wait.

Eddie’s small flat was modern to the point of minimalist. There was one bedroom, a bathroom, and a large living room that led into an open-plan kitchen. Jane remarked how immaculate it was and Eddie laughed, saying he was a bit of an OCD cleaner. His mother couldn’t get over it, as she had spent years picking up all his discarded clothes and towels when he’d lived at home. The whole flat reminded Jane of the time she had been with Alan Dexter. In many ways, Eddie had a similar boyish quality to him; only Alan, as a bomb disposal expert, had a more dangerous edge to his personality.

Eddie ran her a bath and poured in some beautiful-smelling oils and bath salts. He gave her time to soak, and Jane lay back for at least three quarters of an hour. But her brain kept revisiting the possibility that Jason Thorpe had not been interested in the photos, but in the family tree — perhaps because, if the dates on the tree were correct, it made him illegitimate at the time of his birth.

Jane wrapped herself in a large white towelling robe of Eddie’s. Lying on his low, futon-style bed, she jotted down notes to remind herself that when she arrived in Australia she needed to check the births and marriages records there.

By the time Eddie got into bed beside her, it was after midnight.

Jane was woken by Eddie’s alarm clock at half past five — his usual wake-up time as he needed to sort out the day’s itinerary for his team. Jane drove him back to her house so that he could collect his van, and she got ready for work.

Arriving exceedingly early at the station, she grabbed some breakfast in the canteen before checking through the messages in her office. There was a lengthy memo from DC Tim Taylor regarding their travel plans, flight times and hotel bookings, and explaining that they would not be allocated a patrol car in Australia as it would be easier to get to Beatrice Thorpe’s property in Mosman by ferry. In addition, their visas should be ready for collection later that afternoon.

Jane almost missed the scrawled message from Sergeant Hunt, saying that Arnold Hadley had called the station twice asking to speak to her. She was suddenly reminded that she still hadn’t spoken to him.

It was half past eight and she hoped she would now be able to catch Arnold Hadley at home. The phone rang for only a moment before it was picked up.

‘Arnold Hadley speaking...’

‘Mr Hadley, it’s Jane Tennison. I believe you’ve been trying to contact me?’

‘Thank goodness you’ve called. Yes, I have.’ He took a moment to catch his breath. ‘I received a call at eleven yesterday morning from Miss Thompson, asking me to go to the care home. Helena Lanark died earlier that morning.’

Jane was shocked, but let him continue without saying anything.

‘I eventually got to the care home in the early afternoon. Her body had been laid out, and it was very distressing because her face was badly bruised, appallingly so. When I asked how the injuries had occurred, I was told that the young carer who had taken in her breakfast had found her face down on the floor.’

‘Did a doctor attend to examine her body and certify death?’ Jane asked.

‘Yes. Apparently, he said the injuries were consistent with a fall from her bed, hitting her face hard on the floor.’

‘Do you think something else happened?’ Jane asked, gently.

‘I don’t know... I’m just repeating what I was told. But I would appreciate it if you could come to the care home this morning. Her body is due to be taken to the mortuary.’

Jane hesitated for a moment. ‘Mr Hadley, can I ask if you reported this to any officers you spoke with when trying to contact me?’

‘No... no, I didn’t. I only wanted to talk to you, as you’re the one who’s been involved in the Stockwell property case.’

Jane glanced at her watch. ‘I can be at the care home by ten.’

‘Thank you so much, Detective Tennison. I greatly appreciate it.’

Jane quickly picked up her briefcase and coat and left her office. She walked over to Sergeant Hunt’s desk where he was nursing a large cup of coffee.

‘I just have some business to deal with in connection to Helena Lanark.’

He swivelled around in his chair. ‘Was that Arnold Hadley you were talking to? What was it that was so urgent?’

‘I’ll tell you later,’ she said, walking briskly out.

Jane was certain that if DCI Carter found out about Helena Lanark, he would instantly cancel her trip to Australia.

It was just after ten when Jane pulled into the care home car park. Miss Thompson was sitting at the reception desk with a suitably grief-stricken expression.

‘Detective Inspector Tennison,’ Jane said.

‘Yes, yes... I remember you.’

‘Mr Hadley informed me that Miss Lanark has died.’

Miss Thompson instantly went on the defensive. ‘The doctor who attended confirmed her death was due to a fall but I assure you that no blame can be attached to any of our carers. We are very short of staff at the moment, so the routine of dressing our residents before breakfast did not take place. Instead, it was eight o’clock when one of the kitchen staff took in Miss Lanark’s breakfast.’

Jane noticed that she was wringing her hands as she continued.

‘She was, as always, checked after she went to bed, and that would have been at about half past ten. We’ve never had any problems with Miss Lanark being restless or attempting to get out of bed without assistance—’

Jane interrupted. ‘Thank you, Miss Thompson. I would like to see her, please.’

Miss Thompson pursed her lips. ‘Mr Hadley is in her suite waiting for the undertakers. I can order you a cup of coffee if you want?’

‘Thank you. I’ll make my own way there.’ Jane went through the glass doors into the corridor that eventually led to Helena Lanark’s suite.

She knocked once on the door and waited. Hadley opened it.

‘Thank you so much for coming, Detective Tennison.’

As Jane walked through the door, she turned back to see Miss Thompson watching from the far end of the corridor. Hadley closed the door quietly behind her.

‘Mr Hadley, I was told that they didn’t find her until her breakfast was brought in?’

‘Yes, that’s what they told me. They also said that usually she would have been washed and dressed before breakfast. She often ate out here, in the dining area.’

‘Have you spoken to the carer who found her?’

‘No, I haven’t. I was just told that she was one of the young carers because they’re short staffed at the moment.’ He gestured for Jane to sit in a chair by the desk. ‘I may be being slightly paranoid, but when you see her, I think you will understand my concerns.’

Jane noticed the photograph album lying on the desk. ‘I don’t understand why this is here. Jason Thorpe was adamant that it had to be taken to his mother in Australia. He even came to my home address to collect it. So what’s it doing here?’

Hadley shrugged his shoulders. ‘He must have brought it back to her.’

Jane frowned. ‘He collected it from me on Friday evening and said that he was catching a flight home that night. I suppose he must have changed his plans.’

There was a knock on the door and Miss Thompson appeared with a small tray. ‘I brought your coffee,’ she said with an ingratiating smile.

‘That’s so kind of you,’ Hadley said, taking the tray and placing it on a small side table.

‘Miss Thompson, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?’ Jane said as she turned to go. ‘Could you tell me what time Miss Lanark’s nephew, Mr Thorpe, last came to see her?’

Miss Thompson turned, looking slightly startled. ‘Yes. He came here on Monday evening. I’ve made a note of it in the visitors’ book. He also brought—’ she gestured towards a small vase, ‘those flowers.’

‘And this?’ Jane asked, tapping the photograph album.

‘Oh, I don’t recall seeing that. He arrived at about six, but only stayed a short while because he had a plane to catch to Australia.’

‘And Miss Lanark was alive and well after he left?’

‘Yes, of course, she was checked in the evening by our carers.’

‘Thank you, Miss Thompson.’

‘As I said, I made a note in the visitors’ book of the time he arrived and the time he left.’

She turned to leave, then stopped to say that Miss Summers would be available if either of them wanted to talk to her. Jane thanked her, impatient for her to leave the room.

‘Why would Jason Thorpe lie to me? He created a lot of problems for me at work, accusing me of taking this album without permission. He lied about how he came to have my address, he said that his mother was unwell... which was why I contacted you, Mr Hadley, to ask about Beatrice’s health.’

Mr Hadley leaned forward, shaking his head as he tore open a packet of sugar for his coffee. ‘I have no idea.’

Jane opened the album and turned several of the thick heavy pages. ‘There were also a number of photographs missing from their mounts.’

Hadley looked thoughtful. ‘Perhaps they were pictures of Beatrice’s mother with the young Russian piano teacher? It did create rather a scandal at the time. I believe their father was convinced they were having an affair. That’s all I can think of.’ He took a sip of his coffee.

‘So, you’ve seen this album before?’ Jane asked.

Hadley nodded. ‘Oh, yes, on many occasions. It was very precious to Helena.’

Jane closed the album and bent down to open her briefcase. ‘I felt a bit guilty about this, but it had been placed in the back of the album and the clips securing the envelope had come loose...’

She took out the envelope, the contents of which she and Eddie had been looking at the previous night. ‘It’s the Lanark family tree. I would guess it had probably been started by their father. Perhaps you’ll be able to tell if the later additions were made by Helena?’

Jane handed Hadley the loose pages. She noticed that when he reached out to take them from her, his hand was shaking.

‘I believe Miss Lanark did mention this, but I still can’t think why her nephew would be so eager to get his hands on it.’

Jane watched as he looked through the pages, running a bony finger down the various births and marriages. ‘Poor Matthew, he was born with hydrocephalus and is wheelchair-bound. He’s a very sickly man with several long-term complications, both mentally and physically.’

‘So, would Matthew not be Beatrice’s heir?’ Jane asked.

‘No, no... he’s incapable. He requires full-time care and Jason has become the main provider — in a manner of speaking.’

Jane noticed his slight grimace at the mention of Jason’s name. She asked Hadley again if he thought the recent additions to the family tree had been written by Helena.

‘I believe so...’ He carefully put the loose pages back into the envelope. ‘I think you should see her before the undertakers arrive. I’ve brought a suitcase to gather all her belongings.’

Jane put the envelope back into her briefcase as Hadley drained his coffee cup and stood up.

Jane had become accustomed to viewing dead bodies, but she felt oddly perturbed when they entered Helena’s bedroom. The bed had been stripped of its canopy and pillows, and a white sheet had been laid over Helena’s body. Apart from that, the room appeared to be exactly as Jane had previously seen it. Hadley walked over to the side of the bed, his entire body seeming to tremble as he slowly pulled the sheet back from Helena Lanark’s head and shoulders. Jane was shocked at the extent of the dark bruises around both her eyes, across the bridge of her nose and on one cheek.

Jane gently touched Hadley’s arm. ‘Would you excuse me a moment?’ She moved him aside and examined Helena’s face more closely. ‘Do you know if there are bruises on any other parts of her body?’

‘I’ve only been told about the facial injuries... and that was all that was on the doctor’s report I was shown.’

‘If you could leave the room for a moment, I’d like to take a further look...’

Hadley bowed his head and hurriedly left the bedroom. Jane eased back the sheet completely to examine the porcelain-white, almost skeletal body. Helena Lanark had clearly been seriously underweight. There were also additional bruises on her right hip and thigh. As Jane replaced the sheet, she noticed two small round discolorations on the side of her neck.

Returning to the sitting room, Jane asked if Hadley had spoken to the doctor, but he explained that the doctor had already left by the time he had arrived at the care home.

There was a light knock on the door and a young female staff member asked shyly if Mr Hadley would like some more coffee. He shook his head, thanking the girl, as Jane stepped forward.

‘Excuse me, are you the carer who found Miss Lanark’s body?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘What is your name?’

‘I am Maya Lim. Yesterday morning when I brought her breakfast, I found her lying on the floor.’

‘We’ve been told she was lying face down... is that correct?’

‘Yes, ma’am. She was face down, but on one side. I called matron straightaway.’

‘Were you on duty on Monday night?’

‘Yes, ma’am, I was.’

‘And do you recall if Miss Lanark had a guest?’

‘Yes, ma’am. He brought flowers. I was sent to get a vase.’

‘And where was Miss Lanark?’

‘She was in her wheelchair sitting by the desk. I was then not on duty anymore until yesterday morning.’

‘Thank you very much, Maya, you’ve been very helpful. Just one more thing... when you came in yesterday morning, did you notice if anything in the room was different?’

The girl hesitated, at first shaking her head. Then she nodded. ‘Oh, yes... I notice the window.’

Jane turned to look at the bay window. ‘What about it?’

‘It was open.’

‘Was that unusual?’ Jane asked.

Maya frowned. ‘Yes, it is not normal. Particularly when our guests are very frail.’

‘Did you tell anyone about the window being open?’

‘No, I just closed it.’

‘I’m sorry, Maya, I just need to go through that with you again — is that all right? You say you brought Miss Lanark her breakfast tray. But then you saw the window was open. Is that right?’

‘I carry the tray to the desk because Miss Lanark was usually dressed in her bedroom and in her wheelchair, ready to have breakfast out here. I then notice the window, so I close it before I go into Miss Lanark’s bedroom.’

‘And she wasn’t dressed?’

‘No, she was in her nightdress and one of her blue cashmere shawls was over her head.’

‘So, what did you do?’

‘Well, she was on the floor, and I was very concerned, so I eased the shawl away from her. Then when I saw her face, I ran to get help.’

‘Thank you, Maya,’ Jane said. The young carer nodded and left.

Jane turned to Hadley.

‘Have you checked if there is anything missing, Mr Hadley? Any jewellery, for instance?’

‘I’m sure that’s very unlikely,’ he said. ‘This is a very reputable home.’

‘Nevertheless, Mr Hadley, I do think you should check.’

Hadley went back into the bedroom. Jane heard him opening drawers before he returned, carrying a velvet jewellery box.

He opened the box. ‘I only really recall Helena wearing...’ He stopped.

‘A pearl necklace?’ Jane asked.

‘Yes, yes... a pearl necklace. It had belonged to her mother.’ He put the box down. There were some gold chains, an amber brooch, and a few rings, but no pearls.

‘I think we need to speak to Miss Summers,’ Jane said.