Death on the Downs

Thirty-Three

Carole wasn’t yet positively suspicious of Detective Sergeant Baylis, but she was surprised by the alacrity with which he responded to her phone call. The fact that he was sitting in front of her fire at three-thirty that afternoon could have borne out Brian Helling’s hint that the detective was more concerned with monitoring other people’s thinking on the case than with finding a solution to it himself. Which could, as Brian had implied, mean that Lennie Baylis’s interest was a very personal one.

“So do I gather that you’ve got some new information, Mrs Seddon?”

He seemed at ease in her armchair, but watchful. Now she had recognized him as one of the boys in the Helling family photograph, the likeness was obvious. It was only his bulk that made his nose look small; in a thinner face it would have stood out as beakily as Pauline’s or Brian’s.

“I wouldn’t say it was new information, really. New thinking, perhaps.” He’d been so prompt in answering her summons that Carole hadn’t had time to refine her approach. She had to think on her feet. “It seems to me,” she continued tentatively, “that there’s some Helling family connection in this whole thing.”

He was unshocked by the suggestion. “Wouldn’t be a great surprise if there was. The Hellings are a very extensive family round here. At all kinds of different levels. Farm owners, farm workers…These days doctors and solicitors. There are Hellings everywhere. Most local people have some distant connection with them.”

“Including you,” she dared to say.

He may have been surprised by her knowing this, but not fazed. “Yes, my mother was a Helling.”

“So you’re related to Pauline and Brian?”

“Not directly, so far as I know. We probably are if you go back a few generations.”

“But you didn’t see a lot of Brian when you were growing up?”

“I told you we went to school together. But didn’t mix much in our spare time. Never really got on. Had to meet at the occasional big Helling family reunion, but that was it.” He spoke almost as if he knew she’d made the connection from the photograph on Pauline’s mantelpiece.

“The reason I mention it…” For a moment Carole almost lost her nerve, but she regained impetus. “The reason I mention it is something that Brian Helling said to me.”

“When did you see Brian?”

“He came chasing after me on the Downs on Friday. In his Land Rover.”

Baylis looked alarmed. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No. He frightened me a bit, that’s all.”

The sergeant relaxed back in his chair. “Good. Keep clear of Brian Helling if you can. He’s a nasty bit of work.”

“But not criminally nasty. Or at least that’s what you implied before.”

“No, probably not criminally nasty. But you never know how someone like him might behave, given the right provocation.”

“I will do my level best to avoid meeting him again. And if I do meet him, I’ll do my level best to avoid provoking him. Not that I actually sought out his company last Friday.”

“No. Of course not. But be careful. He’s volatile and…” The sergeant stopped, as though he’d been about to go too far.

“Volatile and…?” Carole insisted.

“I’ve mentioned I think he’s into drugs. I haven’t got any proof yet, but…” He shook his head in exasperation. “Why am I telling you this? I rely on your discretion to keep quiet about it.”

“Of course.” Well, to everyone except Jude.

“So what was it Brian said to you last Friday?”

Presented with the direct question, there was no way Carole could avoid the direct answer. “He suggested that the bones I found might have belonged to your mother.”

Baylis nodded slowly. Again he appeared unshocked, almost as if he had been expecting that response. “I see. Well, it’s an old rumour. No surprise it should have resurfaced again.”

“And is it a rumour to which you give any credence?”

This time his face closed over. “No,” he replied curtly. “I’m not pretending my parents got on. If you think I’m about to say, “Never mind, we were poor but we were happy,” forget it. We were bloody miserable. When I was a kid, I spent as much time out of the house as I could. Out on the Downs all the time.”

“Must’ve been a great place to play, though.”

“Oh yes, we had plenty of games.” The grin this time was wry. “It’s easy for kids to play out their fantasies up on the Downs. Except, as I say, I was only out there so’s I didn’t have to go back home. My dad was a violent man, I don’t deny that. And yes, my mother walked out when I was fifteen. Just upped and left.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t bother. You get over things. I joined the police force, made my own mates, got my own life now. Never think about those times.” He was clearly lying when he said the words. “As I say, my mother walked out on my father. He didn’t kill her. Nor did I, in case that was going to be your next question.” Then, before Carole could respond, he went on, “Interesting, though, that Brian should raise that suggestion to you.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one thing, why you? Apart from the fact that you discovered the bones, you have nothing to do with the case. Why should he bother to go chasing over the Downs after you?”

“I think he’d somehow got the impression that I was making my own private investigation.”

“And are you?”

Carole couldn’t meet his sardonic eyes. “No, of course I’m not.”

He didn’t sound convinced. “You’ve been around Weld-isham rather a lot the last couple of weeks. You and your chubby blonde friend.”

She’d never heard anyone describe Jude as ‘chubby’. Least of all a man. Men seemed too immediately caught up in Jude’s aura to be critical of her appearance. And when they’d been introduced, Baylis had apparently responded like the rest. Maybe in his vocabulary ‘chubby’ was a compliment.

Carole blushed. “Well, obviously we’re interested.”

“Yes, I suppose it’s not every day you find a dead body.”

She wondered what access he’d had to her records, whether he knew that this was in fact the second dead body she’d found within the year. “Not every day I find a neatly packed set of bones, no,” she responded cautiously, and then moved quickly on. “You said ‘for one thing’…”

“Sorry?”

“You said ‘for one thing’ it was odd Brian should target me. Was there ‘another thing’?”

“Well, I suppose…” He seemed undecided whether to tell her more, but then shrugged and grinned. “Basic rule of police investigation. When someone volunteers a significant piece of information for no very good reason, they might well be doing it to divert suspicion from something else.”

For a moment, Carole considered an application of Baylis’s words to what he himself had said about Brian Helling’s possible drug habit. It was surely unprofessional for a policeman to drop that kind of hint. He’d have to have a very good reason for doing it…like, say, deliberately building up suspicions of Brian Helling…in order to divert suspicions away from someone else…even from himself.

But Carole didn’t pursue the thought out loud. “So, Lennie, you’re suggesting that Brian Helling raised the old rumour about your mother to me to stop me focusing my enquiries in any other direction?”

“Something like that.” He smiled at her ironically. “Except, of course, you’re not conducting an investigation, so you wouldn’t be wanting to focus it in any direction…would you?”

“No.” Again she couldn’t hold his gaze.

He rubbed his chin. “Still, it’s interesting that Brian should have bothered to try and divert your suspicions. Maybe I should have a word with him…and with his mother…”

“The eyes and ears of Weldisham.”

“Yes. I’ve a feeling that the two of them know more about those bones than they’re letting on.”

This exactly reflected Carole’s views, but she didn’t embark on further discussion. Her moment of doubt about Detective Sergeant Baylis’s motivations had engendered caution. So she just asked, “Can you tell me something about Pauline Helling?”

“If it’s something to which I know the answer, yes. And if, of course, it’s not classified information.”

“I don’t think the answer to this is going to breach any security regulations. She used to work in Weldisham as a cleaner, didn’t she?”

“Mm.”

“Who did she work for?”

“Graham Forbes. Graham and his first wife, Sheila.”

“It’s very frustrating.” Jude was slumped in one of her shapeless draped armchairs, a glass of white wine in her hand.

Yes, she does look chubby, thought Carole. Something nobody’s ever accused me of being.

“Charles Hilton’s been away conducting this course in Ireland. He’s not back till late tonight. So I can’t ring him till tomorrow to fix a time to see Tamsin.”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to, though? I thought last time you saw him he denied she was even at Sandalls Manor.”

“Yes, but now I know from Gillie that she definitely is there. Charles’ll let me see her.”

“You sound very certain of that. Have you got some hold over him?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

Jude grinned. “Don’t ask.”

And, with a degree of unwillingness, Carole didn’t.

“You say Lennie Baylis was going up to see Pauline Helling?”

“Yes. This evening. He rang her from my place. Said he needed to talk to her. To talk to Brian too, if he was going to be there.”

“And was he?”

“I don’t know. Detective Sergeant – Lennie didn’t say.”

“From what you’ve told me, Carole, Pauline Helling certainly knows something about those bones you found.”

“I’m sure she does. And Brian’s involved too, somehow.” A gloom settled over Carole. She sighed. “But I doubt if we’ll ever find out in what way. Lennie Baylis will. The police will. They’ve got the information, they’ve got the technology. They’ll sort it.”

“Don’t be defeatist.” But the mood was infectious. Jude’s response sounded automatic rather than heartfelt.

There was a silence.

“Do you want some more wine?”

“Shouldn’t.”

“Go on.”

“Oh, all right.” After her glass had been recharged and she’d had taken a long sip, Carole said, “Do you know, I had another call from Barry Stillwell earlier this evening…”

“Don’t know why you sound so surprised about it.”

“He wants to take me out for dinner – again. I can’t understand why he keeps pestering me.”

“Well, that’s not very difficult. Obviously because he fancies you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Jude looked flabbergasted. “What’s ridiculous about it?”

“Look, I’m in my early fifties. God knows whether I ever was attractive to men, but I’m certainly not now.”

“Are you saying that women in their early fifties can no longer be attractive to men? God, if I thought that, I’d top myself.”

“There are exceptions, obviously, but I’m sure, even you, when you get to my age – ”

“Carole, Carole, stop. What’s all this ‘when you get to my age’? I’m older than you are.”

“What?”

“I’m fifty-four. You’re fifty-three, aren’t you?”

“How did you know that?”

“Because you told me.”

“You never told me you were fifty-four.”

“You never asked.”

“There are lots of things I don’t know about you, Jude.”

“Probably again because you never asked. There are no big secrets about me.”

“No, but – ”

“I still can’t get over this thing about you not thinking you’re attractive. In the teeth of the evidence. There’s Barry Stillwell panting to get his hands on you.”

“Yes, but who’d want Barry Stillwell’s hands on them?”

“That’s not the point. He may be the most boring creature on God’s earth, but he’s still a man. And as a man, he fancies you.”

“Maybe, but – ”

“And then there’s Ted…”

“Ted Crisp?” Carole blushed. “He doesn’t fancy me.”

“Of course he does.”

“But you saw how he behaved to me in the Crown and Anchor last night.”

“He was in a mood last night. Something had got up his nose. God knows what, but it certainly doesn’t mean he’s stopped fancying you.”

“Jude, don’t be silly.”

“Silly? Oh, this really upsets me. Have you never thought of yourself as attractive?”

“Well, there were times, I suppose…Not since David walked out.”

“Really hit you hard, didn’t it, Carole? You’re still hurting from that.”

“Rubbish.” Carole tossed her head. “It’s happened to any number of women. And what you have to do when it does happen is just get on with things.”

“I would think when it does happen what you have to do is talk to someone about it.”

“Is that what you’d do? You said you’d had man trouble over this weekend. Have you talked to someone about that?”

“Yes, of course I have.”

Carole was taken aback, even a little hurt. “Who?”

“Friends. I’ve hardly been off the phone for the last forty-eight hours.”

“Oh.” Carole’s mood of gloom hardened into despair. She remembered, when she had offered a sympathetic ear, Jude had refused. “Have you talked to the man himself?”

“No, of course I haven’t. I need support, not more humiliation. Talking to supportive people helps. It really does. You should try it.”

Jude could not have known how much her words hurt. Unthinkingly, she had excluded her neighbour from the category of ‘supportive people’. Carole felt very alienated, forced once again to realize how little she knew Jude. As a result, her response was scornful. “That’s not my style. I can’t go all touchy-feely about things. I can’t spill out my guts to some complete stranger.”

“Who said anything about complete strangers? Friends. For the last couple of days I’ve been talking to friends.”

The line of Carole’s mouth hardened. “I think I have to get on with my own life in my own way.”

“Who would you be letting down if you didn’t?”

“Myself. I was brought up to believe that you should stand on your own two feet. You should be able to manage on your own.”

“Without ever asking for help from anyone else?”

“Ideally yes. I mean, obviously, if you’re physically ill, you need help from a doctor.”

“And if you’re mentally ill?”

Carole coloured with affront. “I am not mentally ill!”

“I didn’t say you were. I was talking in general terms.”

“Oh.”

“Presumably this – what shall I call it? – this independence of yours means you’ve never shared what you’re really feeling with anyone?”

“Maybe not. As I said, I’m not the kind to wear my heart on my sleeve.”

“And presumably that’s why your marriage broke up?”

Carole stopped in her tracks. The assessment was so accurate it almost winded her. And, to her amazement, she started to cry.