Murder In Bloom Part 38

Sal's expression changed to coy. Libby blinked.

'Frank! You back again?'

Libby looked at Fran and made a face.

'Brought some more visitors, if that's OK,' said Frank. 'Do you need to give them badges or anything?'

'If you'd just sign in,' said Sal. 'Health and Safety, you know.'

'Huh?' said Libby.

'So that they know who's in the building in case of a fire,' said Fran.

'Oh.' Libby took the proffered pen and signed the book Sal pushed towards her. Fran followed suit.

'Come on then,' said Frank and turned to a corridor on his left leading to an open French window, where a white voile curtain fluttered like a bridal veil. Libby and Fran followed him to the end, where he knocked briefly on a door and, without waiting for a reply, opened it.

Gerald Shepherd sat in the inevitable high backed hospital armchair gazing at nothing in particular. The room, with its window too high to gaze from, contained a high bed, a plethora of small tables and what looked like a door to an en-suite bathroom. There were no photographs. He didn't look up as his three visitors entered.

'Hey, mate.' Frank sat down on an upright chair opposite Gerald and motioned Fran and Libby to pull up similar chairs which stood against the wall. Gerald looked at him vaguely and put out a tentative hand. Libby felt a lump in her throat. Fran cleared hers and handed Frank the folder.

'Gerry, these ladies have come to see you.' Frank waited for a response, then opened the folder. 'They've brought you pictures to look at.'

Gerald's eyes dropped to the folder. He understood that much, Libby realised.

'Look, here.' Frank pointed out the picture of Kenneth. 'Who's that?'

'Kenny.' The voice was a whisper. Frank beamed.

'That's it! That's Kenny. And who's this?'

Gerald took all the photographs with a shaking hand and dropped most of them. Fran dropped to her knees and helped to pick them up. Gerald s.n.a.t.c.hed one from her, the one of young people on a beach.

'Amanda,' he whispered. Libby and Fran looked enquiringly at Frank.

'His wife,' he said in a low voice. 'Ken's mother. Died years ago.'

'Kenny,' said Gerald again, with a frown, looking at the photograph with a blurred Cindy Dale behind him.

'Who's that?' asked Fran, pointing to Cindy.

'Amanda,' said Gerald.

'He's muddled,' said Frank, stating the obvious. Fran shuffled the photographs and showed one of Tony West.

'Tony,' said Gerald in a firmer voice. Then he pulled out the one taken in the seventies and pointed to the young man with the moustache. 'My son,' he said.

The other three looked at each other.

'No, that's your son, Kenny,' said Frank, showing the one of Kenneth. Gerald shook his head and pointed again. 'My son,' he said, and, shockingly, smiled. He picked up the one of Tony West. 'My son,' he said again.

'Tony?' said Libby. 'Tony's your son?'

'Where's Tony?' Gerald looked up at Frank. 'Where's Tony?'

Frank was looking stunned. Libby gave him a nudge. 'Don't tell him,' she whispered. He shook his head slightly and leant forward.

'Away, Gerry,' he said. 'Tony's away.'

'Look after Kenny,' said Gerald, and turned his head to the window.

Nothing more could be got from him, but he held on to the photograph of himself and the moustachioed young man, stroking it gently. Eventually, Frank jerked his head and stood up. He gripped Gerald's shoulder, and with a soft 'Bye, mate,' to which he received no answer, left the room. Libby and Fran followed him. Outside, he leant against the wall and pulled out a large handkerchief to wipe his face.

'b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l,' he said.

'You never knew?' asked Fran. He shook his head.

'Did Kenneth know?' said Libby.

'No idea,' said Frank. 'I'd say no. I was as close to Gerry as anyone, and if I didn't know, no one knew.'

'But Kenneth was his son. Wouldn't Gerald have told him if Tony was his older brother?' said Libby.

'Gawd knows,' said Frank, pus.h.i.+ng himself away from the wall and starting back down the corridor. 'You going to tell the police?'

'I expect so,' said Fran. 'It gives someone the motive for murdering West.'

'But we know Cindy did it,' said Libby.

'Yes, but now we know he was Gerald's son, which was why, presumably, he was given power of attorney '

'Of course!' breathed Libby. 'I never could work out why that was.'

'As I was saying,' said Fran, 'as he was Gerald's son, perhaps Cindy thought he stood in the way of her inheritance.'

'Hang on, though,' said Libby, scurrying to catch up with Frank, who had reached the entrance hall, 'how could it be her inheritance? Kenneth was dead. So whatever happened the money, or the estate, whatever, wouldn't go to her as Kenneth's widow.

He pre-deceased his father.'

'Hmm.' Fran frowned at Frank's back, where he was bending over the high counter to speak to Sally, who looked shocked.

'You shouldn't have said anything to her,' said Fran, when he rejoined them.

'She's got a right to know,' he said, striding down the steps to the SUV. 'Tony paid her.'

'Paid the fees, you mean?' said Libby.

'And paid her a bit extra to keep shtum.' He looked back up the steps. 'Good rottweiler, that one. She's the only one on the staff there that knows who he was.'

'So where did you come into the picture, then?' asked Libby, clambering up into the high vehicle.

'Told you. I knew Gerry in London. He come down to visit, saw old Creekmarsh and bought it. Tony was part of the crowd. Told you that, an' all.'

'Yes, you did.' Fran settled herself comfortably. 'So his mother can't have been Amanda?'

Frank frowned over the steering wheel. 'We-ell,' he said. 'See, I don't know. Bit funny, ain't it? Both of them keeping quiet about it if it was all legal like.'

'I suppose so,' said Libby. 'So do you think he fathered Tony before he was married to Amanda?'

'Must have done,' said Fran. 'It looks as though he was very young when Tony was born. Perhaps he didn't know about Tony until he was grown up.'

'You mean Tony traced his real father, sort of thing?' said Libby.

'Maybe,' said Fran. 'In which case it might have been bad publicity if it came out. Things weren't quite as enlightened as they are now.'

They arrived back at the pub and thanked Frank for taking them. He shook hands with them both, still looking stunned.

'I'm going to tell them about this,' said Libby. 'Coming?'

'No, I'd better get back and play at being a bride-to-be,' said Fran.

'You'd guessed, hadn't you?' said Libby, watching her friend unlock her car.

Fran nodded.

'That was why you kept asking how old Tony was?'

'Yes,' said Fran. 'Just one of those things.'

'Oh, right.' Libby frowned at her. 'But I still don't quite see what difference it makes.'

'Tony is probably Gerald's heir. If the police have got to the will by now they'll know that.'

'So Cindy killed him to remove the obstacle to her inheritance? I said before, that doesn't make sense. Gerald was still alive and she thought he still owned the house.'

'Yes,' said Fran, 'Gerald was still alive. I think she had expected to come home and find Gerald dead, so would walk into Creekmarsh as Kenneth's wife or widow. I don't suppose she thought much further than that. Then she found out about Tony.'

'How? She went and killed him after she heard about the skeleton. She must have known already that he was Gerald's son.'

'I expect she went to see him to ask what she should do before she turned up officially. Then he would have told her Creekmarsh had been sold and, anyway, it was all his. I don't suppose she thought about what she was doing. Probably just lashed out.'

'With Lewis's mallet.' Libby nodded. 'But then, who killed her?'

Fran s.h.i.+vered. 'That's the worrying part, isn't it?'

Libby let herself into the kitchen and called out. Katie appeared and went straight to the kettle.

'Tea, lovey?' she asked.

'Oh, yes please, Katie,' said Libby. 'Do you know where Lewis is?'

'Out there with his telly mates somewhere,' said Katie. 'Did you want him for anything?'

'No, not really,' lied Libby. 'What about Adam? I've got to give him a lift home tonight. I mean, I know he won't be ready yet, but I thought I'd let him know I'm here.'

'Him and that Mog were over towards the wood last time I saw them,' said Katie.

'How's Edie?' asked Libby. 'Is she still here?'

'Having a lie down,' said Katie, pouring tea. 'She's bit frail, poor thing. Seemed really shook up when that Cindy died.'

'Well, it can't be very nice knowing someone's been found dead in your son's garden,' said Libby, taking her mug.

'No, and she was already worried about him.' Katie tutted. 'I don't know what the world's coming to, I really don't. Murders and skeletons. I'm not so sure I want to stay down here, meself, now.'

'Oh, Katie, you can't leave him,' said Libby. 'He really needs you.'

Katie looked doubtful. 'I dunno,' she said. 'He can get other staff if he needs them. I'm getting on a bit, after all. I should think about retiring. I'm not as strong as I was.'

'But he relies on you,' said Libby.

'Hmm,' said Katie, and sat down with her mug looking thoughtful.

'I'm going to find Adam and Mog,' said Libby after a moment. 'Can I take my mug with me?'

'Long as you bring it back,' said Katie with a smile. 'Those boys are always leaving them places.'

'I'll tell them off,' said Libby and went out into the grounds.

Adam and Mog weren't far away. In fact, they were at the back of the house, very carefully loosening turf away from the wall.

'What's going on?' said Libby.

'Told you, didn't we?' said Adam. 'Look!'

And sure enough, a curved row of bricks was showing in the wall just above the ground.

'That's what Fran and I were looking for the other day,' said Libby.

'Where?' asked Mog.

'At the church and on the other side of the house. Near that little side door no one uses.'

Mog looked dubious. 'Newer part of the house,' he said.

'Well, you won't be able to break in from here,' said Libby, bending down to get a closer look. 'Can you work out where it is on the garden plan?'

'It doesn't show the interior of the house, Ma,' said Adam scornfully.