Guilt at the Garage

FOURTEEN

‘Well, Shannon wasn’t going to get any cooperation out of her, was she?’

Jude was once again exercising her palliative-care skills at Waggoners. And Rhona Hampton was once again denigrating Bill Shefford’s widow.

‘So, what, you say Shannon asked if she could look through the house for a will?’

‘Yes, well, that’s reasonable, isn’t it, Jude? She’d been on to Bill’s solicitor and they had no record of him having made a will. He never was that good with paperwork. Never much bothered about paperwork, come to that. He relied on Frankie to keep the business on the right side of the law. You know, she looked after the invoices … and the tax … and the Health and Safety Executive stuff …

‘So, anyway, Shannon rang Malee and asked if she’d found some informal hand-written will round the house … because they can be legal, you know. There was a case recently where some old bloke had scribbled his will on a McDonald’s paper napkin and that was legal, so it can happen. And Malee had said she’d looked round the house and found nothing. So, then Shannon asked if she could have a look. And Malee said, “No.” Just like that. I mean, what kind of a way is that to treat your … what? Stepdaughter-in-law?’

‘She’s within her rights. It is her house.’

‘But is it, Jude? Is it? Surely that depends on the will. And if there isn’t a will, then who knows whose house it is?’

‘I think you’ll find, Rhona, that under British law, if a woman is legally married at the time of her husband’s death, and he’s intestate – in other words, he hasn’t made a will – then she inherits all of his estate.’

‘That’s not fair, is it?’

‘It may not be fair, but it’s the law. And I take it Malee was legally married to Bill?’

Rhona grimaced. ‘Yes. Only a registry office thing. Back last February. I was invited, but there was no way I was going. Shannon and Billy went. They said it felt more like a funeral to this side of the family.’

‘And what about her side of the family? Were any of Malee’s relatives there?’

‘No.’

‘Must’ve been fun for her,’ said Jude wryly, trying not to visualize the grisly details of the occasion. Malee’s progress in becoming part of the Shefford family cannot have been easy, and having no backup from her own side could only have made things worse.

‘No,’ Rhona went on, ‘her people were no doubt back in Thailand, busy on their calculators, working out how much money they’d get when Bill kicked the bucket.’

Jude knew there was no point in saying anything. Rhona Hampton was not about to change such entrenched attitudes at this advanced stage of her life.

‘Shannon’ll try again,’ Rhona went on. ‘Not easily put off, my daughter. She’ll be back at that house and she’ll get in, even if she has to break in. She’ll find the will that Bill drew up before he met his “Mail Order Bride”.’

‘Could you just move on to your other side?’ asked Jude. She helped ease the frail body on the bed. There now seemed to be only a thin layer of skin over the old woman’s bones. Jude’s healing efforts were helping with the pain, but Rhona was also on a lot of prescription medication. She was not much longer for this life, but she was still capable of great malignancy where Malee Shefford was concerned.

In shifting her client’s position, Jude dislodged a pile of A4 sheets from the bedside table. With Rhona settled, she bent to pick them up.

‘Oh, those are copies of Bill’s death certificate,’ said the old woman. ‘I told Shannon they were going to need lots of them. You can never have too many. I remember when my Roy passed, I couldn’t believe how much paperwork there was, and how many people needed to see a copy of the death certificate. So Shannon got lots of spares from the registrar.’

Jude was only half-listening. She had seen something on the death certificate that intrigued her.

‘Shannon’s a tough woman,’ said Jude. ‘No question. She’s incredibly protective of Billy. I get the impression he’s quite a weak character, maybe grew up too much in the shadow of his father. But Shannon’s more than ready to fight his battles for him.’

‘How far do you reckon she’d go?’ asked Carole. They were sitting over coffee in the High Tor kitchen. Gulliver snuffled in his dog dreams by the Aga.

‘As far as killing the father? Is that what you’re asking?’

‘Well, it’s a thought.’

‘I don’t know. I can see her squaring up to Malee, no problem, but I somehow get the impression she was fond of her father-in-law.’

‘Maybe. Fondness hasn’t been allowed to stop a great many murderers.’ Carole took a sip of coffee. ‘Do you believe in the existence of this earlier will that Rhona mentioned?’

Jude shrugged. ‘No idea.’

‘Of course,’ said Carole, ‘in all of our speculation about the case’ – she now had no problem with using the word – ‘there’s one person we haven’t talked to …’

‘I was thinking just the same.’ Jude took out her mobile. ‘Thinking it to such an extent that I put her number into my phone.’ She pressed a couple of buttons.

‘We are talking about Malee, aren’t we?’

Jude nodded and listened to her phone for a few seconds. ‘Still the answering machine. Still with Bill Shefford’s voice on it.’

‘Still?’ asked Carole. ‘What, you mean you’ve tried Malee’s number before?’

‘A few times.’

Carole couldn’t stop herself from saying, ‘Without telling me?’

She took a note of the number and, after Jude had left, tried calling it herself. She didn’t know why she thought the outcome would be any different. And it wasn’t. She too got the answering machine message from the late Bill Shefford.

But, unlike Jude, she left a message, identifying herself, reminding Malee that she had been at Shefford’s when her husband had died, and asking the widow to call her.

‘Hello, Jude. It’s Jeremiah.’

‘Oh, hi.’ His voice down the phone was pleasantly warming. ‘How’re you doing?’

‘Fine, thank you.’

‘I’m glad you called.’

‘Thank you.’ He didn’t pick up the implication in her words. Never mind, she would bide her time before she asked the questions she wanted to. ‘Let me tell you, Jude, I’m still thinking that setting up my centre for alternative therapies in Fethering is a good idea.’

‘Best of luck with it.’

‘I gather from your tone that you’re no more keen than you were when we last discussed it.’

‘You gather correctly.’

‘Ah, well. When it’s a huge success, written up in medical journals around the world, the go-to destination for A-list addicts, and you come begging on your hands and knees to be allowed space within it, I will be prepared to be generous.’

Jude giggled. ‘In the completely impossible event of that scenario arising, I will still probably not accept your generosity.’

‘It’s a good offer.’

‘Appreciated as such. Anyway, to what do I owe the honour of this call?’

‘Oh, I just gather that you’ve seen Tom Kendrick again.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I had a call from his mother. Trying to persuade me to have another go at treating him. And she said you’d seen him.’

‘I hope she didn’t imply that I’d changed my mind about whether I could help him.’

‘No. To be fair to her, she didn’t.’

‘And did she persuade you that you could do something for him?’

‘I did say I’d go and meet up with him again, see if I could get anywhere.’

‘But, if you couldn’t the first time …’

‘He kind of intrigues me. An unusual case. I think it’s worth having another go.’

‘OK.’

‘I was just interested in why you saw him again … and whether it had anything to do with what I told you about his relationship with the late Bill Shefford.’

Another of those occasions when there was no point in Jude telling anything but the truth. ‘Yes, that was why I saw him.’

‘And?’

‘Do you mean: “And did he immediately confess to having sabotaged the Triumph Tr6 with a view to killing the boss he’d fallen out with?”’

‘I wasn’t expecting quite as much as that. I am interested in what he said, though.’

‘But, Jeremiah, you still wondered whether he might have pointed the finger of suspicion towards anyone else? Am I on the right track?’

He sighed. ‘Not far off. I’m afraid I’m just as caught up in murderous speculation as the rest of Fethering.’

‘OK. I’ll tell you what I found out from Tom but, in return, there’s something I want you to tell me.’

‘Sounds fine. If slightly mysterious.’ A thoughtful silence. Then, ‘All right. You said there was something you wanted to ask me …?’

‘Yes. The first time you talked about your plans for the therapy centre, you mentioned a doctor friend of yours called “Bob Rawley” …’

‘I may well have done. I’ve had a lot of dealings with him over the years. An NHS doctor who really believes in complementary medicine. He’s a great advocate of acupuncture.’

‘And his full name’s “Robert Rawley”?’

‘Yes.’ A chuckle. ‘Fortunately, he can pronounce his Rs. Why are you asking me about him?’

‘Because Robert Rawley is the name of the doctor who signed Bill Shefford’s death certificate.’

‘Oh.’ The news did not seem to be particularly unexpected to Jeremiah. ‘Well, he’s a qualified doctor, living in the area. Is that so surprising?’

‘He’s not one of the doctors in the Fethering Surgery. Most people locally are registered there.’

‘So? Bill Shefford was registered somewhere else.’ Again, he made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal.

‘Jeremiah …’ – Jude pieced her thoughts together slowly – ‘the fact that Dr Rawley signed the death certificate suggests he had been treating Bill Shefford …’

‘Not necessarily.’

‘Well, he must’ve seen Bill within a fortnight of his death. Otherwise, surely there would have had to be a post mortem?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘In fact, I’m quite surprised there doesn’t seem to have been a post mortem.’

‘Do we know there hasn’t been?’

‘Frankie at the garage said there hadn’t been. But I’d have thought, in the case of an accidental death like that …’

‘Pretty straightforward. There’s not much doubt about what killed him.’

‘No.’ Jude was about to tell Jeremiah about the speed with which Billy Shefford had completed the Triumph Tr6’s service and had the vehicle valeted. But something stopped her. ‘Your friend Dr Rawley didn’t mention to you whether he’d been treating Bill Shefford, did he?’

‘No, of course he didn’t. Come on, Jude, you know the code of confidentiality that medical practitioners have about their patients.’

Oh yes, she knew all about that.