The Killer in the Choir

TWENTY-THREE

It was the following morning when Jude had a call from Alice Mallett. From the first words, she knew that the girl had been totally transformed.

‘I spoke to Roddy,’ she said.

‘Good. I knew it would help.’

‘Oh God, you’ve no idea just how much it helps! I know there are still huge problems ahead of us, but I think we do have a future.’

‘I’m sure you do.’

There was a manic note in the girl’s voice as she went on, ‘So I’ve picked myself up and I’m really going to embrace that future. I looked at myself in the mirror after I’d come off the phone from Roddy, and I couldn’t believe the state I was in. I’ve showered and changed and put on some make-up, and I look like a human being again. And the house – I couldn’t believe the mess there either. I’ve cleaned it all over, and opened the windows to let some fresh air in. I’m starting a new life, Jude, as of today. I’ve even organized a singing lesson for myself, here at the house. He’s coming at three this afternoon.’

‘Singing lessons? Just like your stepmother.’

‘Yes. Just like Mum.’

‘That sounds really good,’ said Jude, unaware of the renewed suspicion that Bet Harrison had ignited about the activities of KK Rosser.

‘Hello, is that Blake Woodruff?’

‘Who is this speaking?’

‘My name is Jude. You don’t know me, but—’

‘If I don’t know you, get off the line! I don’t know how you got this number, but—’

‘I’m a friend of Heather Mallett,’ said Jude quickly, before he could slam the phone down. ‘And of her stepdaughter Alice.’

‘Oh. Oh.’ The internationally famous tenor took a moment to adjust his tone from anger to sympathy. ‘I was desperately sorry to hear about … what happened.’

‘Yes. You haven’t heard from Alice, have you?’ Jude was wondering whether the girl’s transformed mood might have encouraged her to catch up on such calls.

‘No. No, I left a message at the house. I’d just come back from a tour in Australia.’

‘The reason I’m calling you is that Alice is in rather a state.’

‘I’m not surprised. I’m still pretty shaken up by the news. And to hear that Heather was murdered … Well, you just don’t expect that kind of thing to happen to people who, you know, people you’ve been close to.’

‘You met at university, I gather?’

‘Right, Manchester. Mutual interest in music brought us together. Sang together in university choirs. We did have a bit of a thing in our last year. I don’t know whether it would have gone the distance, but … it was very pleasant while it lasted. And then, after we graduated, we went our separate ways. I got increasingly caught up in my career as a professional singer, and Heather … We kept in touch, letters, the occasional phone call, email and Facebook weren’t around back then. I’d bring her up to date on my latest disastrous romance, and she … well, she always was quite reserved, and she seemed to become more, sort of, turned in on herself. Then, after she got married … I wasn’t, by the way, invited to the ceremony … Anyway, all communication from her ceased. I guess she wanted to make a completely fresh start …’

He sounded a bit wistful about the breaking-off of contact. Jude knew it wasn’t the moment to say that its cause was probably not Heather’s decision, but that of her controlling husband.

‘Incidentally …’ he said, ‘… sorry, what was your name?’

‘Jude.’

‘Jude, right.’ There was a new note of caution in his voice. ‘I don’t want any of this to get out to the press. They hound me all the bloody time, and if they got hold of the news that I’d once had an affair with a woman who’s been murdered …’

‘I can assure you I have nothing to do with the press. I’m only phoning you on behalf of Alice Mallett. I’m sure she will give you a call herself when she’s in a better state.’

‘Yes. Yes, fine. Sorry to have sounded so suspicious, but someone in my position has to be bloody careful.’

‘I’m sure you do. I fully understand.’

‘Good. Yes. You haven’t heard about the funeral details yet, have you? If the press can be kept at bay, I’d like to put in an appearance then.’

‘There’s no news about that yet. I think in the case of a murder, it takes a while for the police to release the body.’ Jude didn’t know that for sure, but she thought she was probably right.

‘Yes, of course. Well, when you do hear something …’

‘Either Alice or I will let you know.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Incidentally, Blake, did you hear that Heather’s husband had died?’

‘I heard that, yes. From Heather. She got back in touch with me. She didn’t talk much about it, but I got the impression that it may not have been a marriage made in heaven.’ Something of an understatement, thought Jude. ‘But she suggested meeting up, for old times’ sake. Which I would have been happy to do, but my bloody schedule, what with concerts here, and the occasional opera and foreign tours … I get booked more than a year ahead, would you believe, so making social arrangements can be a nightmare.’ He didn’t speak in a boastful way, he was just describing one of the hazards of his profession.

‘And now,’ he concluded sadly, ‘that “old times’ sake” meeting with Heather will never happen.’

‘No.’ There was a moment of reflective silence, before Jude asked, ‘Was there anything else Heather talked to you about, you know, in the past few months, after her husband’s death …?’

Carole had by now got the bit between her teeth and was determined to increase her contribution to the investigation – or, ideally, to solve the murder on her own. Her direct approach to Elizabeth Browning had not been an unqualified success, but the direct approach to Bet Harrison had proved more fruitful. At least it showed her the direction in which her next enquiries should go.

She had a copy of that week’s Fethering Observer, with a photograph of Heather Mallett on the front, and among the small ads, the regular entry was still there. She rang the mobile number that was printed in the box.

Her call was greeted by a laid-back ‘Hi.’

‘Am I talking to KK Rosser?’

‘You are. Guitarist extraordinaire. Leader of Rubber Truncheon, the best undiscovered and unsigned band this side of Memphis. Available for any kind of gig – weddings, birthdays, bar mitzvahs, hen parties, divorce parties – you name it, we’ll provide the best evening of music you’ve heard since Woodstock. So, what is the occasion for which you require our services?’

‘Actually, I saw your advertisement in the Fethering Observer for singing lessons.’ Carole planned to start with a conventional enquiry before moving on to the meat of her investigation.

‘Oh, right. Well, that’s a turn-up.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, because I get so few enquiries about the singing lessons. Lots for Rubber Truncheon, of course.’ He was probably lying. ‘But very few for the old singing lessons. Haven’t had an enquiry about that for … ooh, six months at least.’

‘Well, actually, that wasn’t what I really wanted to ask you about.’

‘Oh?’

Carole now decided that she should use a little subterfuge by pretending that she wasn’t totally retired from the Home Office. ‘The fact is, I’m making enquiries into the death of Heather Mallett.’

The line went dead.

‘Oh, general chat, you know,’ Blake Woodruff replied. ‘Heather told me what Alice was up to, all about the forthcoming wedding, that kind of stuff.’

‘Did she say anything about her late husband?’

‘His name wasn’t mentioned. Which, when I think about it, was perhaps rather odd. But I didn’t think that at the time. We only had a few telephone conversations, didn’t talk that much.’

‘And did Heather seem to have changed from when you’d last been in touch?’

‘She did a bit, yes.’

‘In what way?’

‘Well, as I say, she always had a reclusive tendency, and that seemed to be more pronounced in our recent conversations. There was a kind of hesitancy about her, as if she was afraid something she said might upset me.’

The product of years spent with the permanently critical Leonard, thought Jude. ‘Nothing else, nothing odd?’

‘No, I don’t think so … Oh, there was one thing …’

‘What?’

‘Nothing odd, really. Just a coincidence.’

‘Oh?’

‘She’d met someone in Fethering who I’d known years ago.’

‘Who was that?’

‘I don’t know if you know, but I started out life … well, no, I’d done a little bit of living before that … but, at a very young age, I became a choral scholar at a cathedral school. Yes, I’m afraid the music bug has been with me for a long, long time. And it turns out that the master in charge of the choir back then … was choirmaster for the church choir in Fethering, who Heather sang with.’

‘Jonny Virgo?’

‘Yes, “Mr Virgo” to us back then. Mind you, that didn’t stop a lot of smutty-minded little boys making jokes about his surname. Anyway, I told Heather I remembered him, and I asked if he remembered me, you know, if he’d mentioned my name. And she said no. Which I thought slightly odd, because when someone has the good fortune to become famous, as I have had, then all sorts of people come out of the woodwork, claiming that they gave him his first job, they recognized his exceptional potential at a very early age, that they taught him everything he knew. But old Mr Virgo apparently didn’t do that. He didn’t claim to have taught me everything I knew.’

‘More than that,’ said Jude, remembering a rehearsal in All Saints. ‘He positively denied that he knew you and moved the conversation on very quickly when your name came up.’

‘Yes, Heather told me that. And at first, I couldn’t think of any reason for it. And then a memory came back to me.’

‘A memory of what?’

‘A memory of Mr Virgo telling me he loved me.’

‘What?’

‘It was the end of a choir rehearsal. The other choristers had gone from the chapel, off to supper, I think. It was just Mr Virgo and me, collecting up the hymn books. And he suddenly looked at me, and he said, “I love you, Woodruff.” Just that.’

‘Did he touch you?’

‘No. And it was never mentioned again. And I forgot about it.’

‘You didn’t tell anyone? Your headmaster or …?’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, no! You didn’t in those days. I was … what … nine? I didn’t know what love meant. I knew I loved the family cat – that was about the extent of it. And it didn’t damage me in later life. I may have had a few romantic disasters on the way, partly to do with the amount I have to travel, but all of my disasters have been firmly heterosexual. So, Mr Virgo telling me he loved me had absolutely no effect at all on my life.’

‘It might have had a bigger effect on his life.’

‘Yes, OK, probably did. Maybe that was the first time he had faced the fact that he was gay, the first time he recognized that he could feel love for a small boy. I don’t know.’

‘But did Heather know about your encounter in the chapel?’

‘Yes. I told her while we were at university. You know, when you first have sex with someone, you tell each other about any previous sexual encounters … well, to be accurate, you give the other person an edited version of your previous sexual encounters, and I did tell Heather about Mr Virgo being in love with me, told her about it as a joke, really.’

‘Did she mention it in one of your more recent conversations?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Did she say if she told anyone else about it?’

‘She said she’d told Alice.’

‘Had she?’

Jude went straight round to High Tor. It took a while before she could tell her story, because Carole was so keen to bring her up to date with the progress of her own investigations. But eventually Jude was able to report the conversation she had just had with Blake Woodruff.

‘What do you think that means?’ asked Carole.

‘I think it means that Alice may potentially be in as much danger as her stepmother was. We must see she’s looked after.’

‘And we must tell the police to have a word with Jonny Virgo,’ said Carole, in her best Home Office voice.

‘Yes.’ Jude glanced at her watch. ‘At least we know Alice is all right at the moment.’

‘Oh?’

‘She told me she’d booked a three o’clock singing lesson with KK Rosser.’

‘But,’ said Carole slowly, ‘I spoke to KK Rosser this morning. He hasn’t had any enquiries about singing lessons for more than six months.’ Jude looked at her, aghast. ‘Which must mean that Alice is having her singing lesson with someone else.’