Murder In Bloom Part 20

'Er no, not long,' said Libby, feeling a bit pink. 'She'll be fine in a day or so. Are you staying that long?' Oh, b.u.g.g.e.r, she thought. I shouldn't have said that.

'I don't really know,' said Cindy, turning the grey eyes towards Lewis, who was studying knotholes in the table.

'Oh.' Libby was at a loss. She didn't know why Cindy was here, what she'd told Lewis or the police and, most importantly, why she was so different from the picture painted of her by the media three years before. This was no glamour model. This was a girl who wouldn't have been out of place in the pony books Libby had been remembering. She wore a loose s.h.i.+rt over jeans, had thick, straight hair and wore no make-up on her high-cheekboned face. Libby tried to remember if there'd been any photographs on the various sites she'd turned up on the search engine. She didn't think there had been, but the descriptions of Cindy as a model turned singer had suggested a very different type of person than the calm, quiet girl who sat opposite her now.

'Is the house much changed?' she asked, and cursed herself again. 'Sorry. That was insensitive of me.'

Cindy's smile was sad. 'Oh, yes, of course,' she said. 'Lewis has done quite a bit more than we ever got round to.'

We? Libby risked a glance at Lewis, who was now concentrating on a new knothole. 'I suppose he would, being a television DIY expert,' she said out loud, and wondered how on earth she was going to get out of this conversation. With relief, she heard her mobile trilling from inside her basket.

'Ben? Oh, great. Yes, I'll tell him. No, I didn't crash it. I might on the way back, though.' She turned to Lewis. 'Ben's booked our table for eight, if that's OK?' She smiled at Cindy. 'Sorry we're taking him away from you this evening.'

Cindy looked startled. Lewis cleared his throat, looking relieved. Libby realised he hadn't relished telling his house guest that she was to be left alone. Well, she thought, if you turn up out of the blue, you can hardly expect to be entertained the whole time, can you? Out loud, she said, 'I'd better go and find Adam and let him know. I'll see you in a bit, Lewis.' She held out her hand to Cindy. 'Nice to meet you,' she said.

Cindy put a soft hand into hers and smiled. 'Yes,' she said. 'It was.'

Outside, Libby realised she had no idea which part of the garden Adam was working on, and as she didn't want go back in and ask, she had to go exploring.

The gardens were extensive. She found her way first to the parterre, where Adam wasn't, then following the downward slope of a meadow with a ha-ha halfway down, which would doubtless one day be another lawn, found herself by the edge of the creek, or the inlet, she remembered. And there, just to her right, stood the weatherboarded building which must be the sailing club. Moored alongside a pontoon, several small boats bobbed and swung contentedly, like so many seabirds. Finding an ancient wooden bench, Libby sat down and contemplated the view.

The river was at its widest here, and almost dead ahead was the sea. On the opposite bank, she could see trees, a church spire and a couple of houses with riverside access. Expensive, she thought. But no more expensive than this place. She turned to look back and discovered that the house couldn't be seen from here. So this place couldn't be seen from the house either. She turned back towards the river and the sailing club. An ideal place for concealing activities, it would be, supposing you needed to. She stood up and made for the lane which ran alongside the meadow and took her down to the pontoon.

Sure enough a small notice attached to the door, which was firmly padlocked, announced it to be the Creekmarsh Sailing Club, Private, Members Only. Not many members, thought Libby, looking at the collection of small boats, although perhaps there were other moorings. She wondered if Gerald Shepherd, or any former owners of Creekmarsh, had sailed from here, or used it, perhaps, as a secret way of ingress or egress. It looked possible that the estate owned the land, which probably meant that the sailing club leased the building and the moorings. She must ask Lewis. Whom she now heard calling her name.

'Over here,' she shouted, waving at the small figure at the top of the meadow. She watched as he trotted down to meet her, his unnatural tension of earlier now replaced with his usual ebullience.

'Watcher doing all the way down here?' he asked breathlessly, as he came up beside her.

'Exploring,' grinned Libby. 'I started looking for Adam by the parterre, and just carried on in this direction.' She pointed towards the Creekmarsh Sailing Club. 'Ben used to sail here with a friend in his schoolboy days. Do you own the land?'

'I dunno.' He walked forward curiously. 'Never thought about it. The land goes right down to the river, so I suppose I do.' He nodded towards the sailing club. 'D'you reckon that's illegal?'

'The building? No, I should think they lease the land and the moorings from the estate. You'd better check with your solicitor.'

Lewis groaned. 'b.l.o.o.d.y solicitors again. You wouldn't believe what's been happening.'

'No, so why don't you tell me.' She led him to the bench and sat down. 'You were going to before Cindy interrupted us.'

'Ears of a bat, that girl,' growled Lewis. 'Bet she heard.'

'You don't like her either, then?'

'Oh, I dunno.' Lewis sighed. 'It's just such a shock, her walking in like that. She's such a shock, herself. Don't get me wrong,' he added hastily, 'she ain't done anything awful, like, but it's got everyone confused.'

'Tell me how it happened,' said Libby. 'From the beginning.'

'Well,' said Lewis, leaning back and turning his face up to the sun, which was just emerging from the overhanging trees on the other side of the lane. 'Sunday afternoon, see, and I was up there all on me own. Katie wasn't back, and I didn't know when she'd turn up, so when I heard the front door open, I thought it was her and just sort of yelled out.'

'Wasn't it locked?'

'Oh, yeah, that's why I thought it was Katie, see, 'cos she's got her own key. Anyway, there's no answer, so I goes to the stairs and there's this girl standing looking up at me. "Who are you?" she says. So I thought, b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, what a cheek, and I goes haring down the stairs. "Excuse me," I says, "but who are you? I just happen to be the owner of this place." So she looks real surprised, like, and takes a step back. "But it belongs to Gerald," she says. "Not any more, it don't," I says, "and who are you anyway?" So she tells me and you could have knocked me down with a feather.'

'I bet,' murmured Libby.

'So anyway, I takes her into the kitchen and makes her a cuppa for shock, you know and tell her the whole story. All about how Tony sold the house to me with his power of wotsit, then about the body in the garden. Then she sort of puts her head in her hands and starts crying.' He shook his head. 'I didn't know what to do.'

'So what did you do?'

'Well, I'm shocked, like, 'cos of thinking that she'd run off with old German Shepherd, and then she explains. And, cor, Lib, it just shows how the papers can get stuff wrong.'

'So what does she say happened, then?'

'This is the bit that explains a lot.' Lewis turned to face her and leant forward. 'See, Lib, we was all wondering about that power '

'Of attorney,' supplied Libby.

'Yeah, because how come Tony had it? When old Shepherd had done a runner three years before? Well, it turns out that he had the beginnings of that thing, you know,' he clicked his fingers, annoyed, 'where your memory goes.'

'Alzheimer's disease?'

'That's the one. And he knows it, so he gets this all set up with Tony.'

'How did he know Tony?'

'I dunno. Tony's got had all sorts of connections in the entertainment business, like I told you, so I expect that's how. Anyway, then Cindy and Kenneth come down here to look after him, like, but then Ken gets this Dungeon Trial gig, so Cindy and Shepherd are left down here on their own. And then Shepherd starts trying it on.'

'Ah!' said Libby.

'Well, yeah, but then he starts getting violent, and she gets scared, so she runs off. She tells Tony, who seems to have been a bit like a dad to her, and he tells her Shepherd's looking for her. Next thing is, she hears Ken's come out of his dungeon so she goes back, sort of secretly, like, and finds Ken's come to all these wrong conclusions. Then o' course, Shepherd turns up and has a fit, and knocks old Ken cold. So Tony turns up always there, the b.u.g.g.e.r, ain't he? and tells her to run away, like, because if she's found there she'll be for it, too, and she goes off somewhere, she hasn't said where, and a couple of days later Tony sends her a false pa.s.sport and says she can lie low for a bit, and he's got all her real papers, birth certificate and wotnot so she can return when she likes.'

'I don't get it,' said Libby, frowning. 'Why on earth would Tony tell her to run away? She had nothing to do with it, and surely they could have proved Shepherd killed his son?'

'Don't ask me,' said Lewis with a shrug, 'except that Tony was going to cover it up, like, to protect German Shepherd, I expect, so he wanted her out of the way.'

'She'd be the heir, though, wouldn't she, if Gerald died? As Kenneth's widow? Is that why she came back?'

'I reckon so,' Lewis nodded. 'She still had her keys, see. She heard about the skeleton in the garden on the news she's been living in Spain lately and realised old Ken'd been dug up. Then, o' course, she heard about the theory that she and Shepherd had run away together.'

'And she hadn't heard it before?' Libby's eyes were wide with disbelief. 'That's ridiculous. It was all over the media. She couldn't have missed it, even if she'd gone straight to Spain. Besides, it hasn't been confirmed by the police that it's Kenneth's body. Did she say it was Kenneth?'

'That's what she says, anyway, and that's what she told the coppers. That Big Bertha cor, she weren't 'arf mad!'

'Why? No one's found out where Shepherd is now, have they? According to Cindy, all she's got to do is find him. Does Cindy know where?'

'She says not,' said Lewis, getting up and stretching. 'Didn't know the house was sold, either. So she's sort of in limbo. I reckon she was expecting to inherit it one day and when she heard about old Ken's body '

'On the news which she didn't listen to or read three years ago,' said Libby.

'Look, it's her story, not mine. 'Course it don't sound right, but old Bertha's looking into it, so I expect she'll get to the bottom of it.'

'So why's Cindy still here?'

'Well,' said Lewis, looking uncomfortable, 'I didn't like to ask her to go. She did live here once.'

'But not now,' said Libby. 'Honestly, Lewis, you're too softhearted for your own good. You'll have to tell her to go. You wait, she'll start taking over before you know it.'

'That's what Katie says. Cor, she right had the hump when she got back and found her here.'

'Did she know who she was?' Libby frowned. 'She wouldn't have met her before.'

'Katie turned up Monday morning, walked into the kitchen and there was Cindy doing herself some breakfast. I was up in me bedroom, and I didn't hear about it until I came down and Cindy tells me. And Katie's in a right hump with me, as I said.'

'Why, though? It doesn't make any difference to her, does it?'

'No, it's this taking over thing. Cindy's got a bit of the old lady of the manor about her, see? Treats Katie like the faithful old family wotsit.'

'Retainer.'

'One of them, yeah. Anyway, the faithful old retainer's got lunch ready. Going to stay?'

'No, I won't, thanks, Lewis. I can't say I took to Miss Cindy Dale, either. But she's so different from what I imagined.'

'Yeah, no t.i.ts and teeth, eh? Me and all. You'd better say h.e.l.lo to Adam, though, hadn't you, or he'll be miffed with me for not letting him know you've been here.'

They walked up to the house through the parterre and found Adam coming to meet them.

'Hi, Ma,' he said. 'Lewis, I think you'd better go in. Cindy's looking as sick as a parrot. Big Bertha's back.'

Chapter Nineteen.

WITH AN EXPRESSION OF horror on his face, Lewis shot into the house. Adam made a face at his mother and began to walk her towards the Land Rover.

'So, you met her?'

Libby nodded.

'What did you make of her, then?'

'She's obviously very different from how we all thought she'd be, and she's telling a very strange, and, frankly, unbelievable story.'

'I thought Lewis believed it.'

'Well, I've put some doubts in his mind now. What does Big Bertha want?' 'Goodness knows. To talk to Cindy, I expect.' 'What I can't understand,' said Libby, turning round with her hand on the driver's door, 'is why a superintendent is out on the ground, so to speak.'

'Huh?'

'They're usually sitting behind a desk directing operations.' 'Not on telly, they're not.' 'If you think about it, most of the TV detectives are inspectors,' said Libby. 'Like Ian, or Donnie Murray.'

'Donnie?'

'Don't you remember? When DCI Murray came to see The Hop Pickers, his wife called him Donnie. You were all there.'

'G.o.d, Ma, that was years ago.'

'Two years, that's all. Anyway, that's all beside the point. Superintendent Bertram is coming out and questioning suspects. I wonder why?'

'You have the strangest mind,' said Adam, frowning at his mother. 'That isn't important, surely? You said Cindy's story was unbelievable, so that's the strangest thing.'

'Perhaps.' Libby turned and climbed into the Land Rover. 'See you later. Ben's booked a table at Harry's for eight.'

'I'll be home before that,' said Adam, 'unless you're throwing me out.'

'Stoopid,' said Libby, and ruffled his hair. 'See you.'

But Cindy's truly was an unbelievable story, she thought as she drove past Steeple Mount without even thinking about the grisly chapel. Especially when you remembered that Fran wasn't certain the skeleton was Kenneth. Libby pulled the Land Rover into a gateway and thought. Then, carefully, she turned back the way she had come and drove down into Nethergate.

Fran was in the gallery with Sophie and professed herself ready for a cup of tea. Sophie happily agreed to shop-sit, and Libby walked purposefully down Harbour Street to The Blue Anchor.

'We could have had a cup of tea at home,' said Fran.

'But I can smoke here,' said Libby, pulling a battered packet out of her basket. 'I still haven't quite given up.'

'So what's the problem?'

While Mavis went to fetch their tea, Libby told her Cindy's story.

'And I thought, well, if it wasn't Kenneth in the wood, the girl must be lying. And if she's lying about that, what else is she lying about?'

'Look, I know I said I didn't think it was Kenneth, but I'm not infallible. It seems most likely it is him, after all.'

'Yes, I know, that's why even I managed to work it out. If it's got Shepherd's DNA it seems there's only two people it could be, Shepherd himself or Kenneth.'

'It's not Shepherd.' Fran shook her head. 'But I'm concerned about why I thought it wasn't Kenneth. As you said, who else could it be?'

'How is DNA extracted from a skeleton?' asked Libby after a moment.

'I don't know!' Fran looked startled.

'And the other question,' said Libby, looking excited, 'is how did they get Shepherd's DNA?'