A Question of Identity (21 page)

‘That's the husband of the woman who was murdered,' she said. ‘In Belmont, of all places – where Tom used to live.'

Jenny frowned, still looking at the photograph. ‘I don't remember hearing about it.'

‘It was while you were away,' Daniel told her. ‘But it's been in the papers and on TV.'

She shrugged. ‘When I'm at the parents' I never seem to see a paper or hear the news – or if I do, it washes over me. He does look faintly familiar, though, so I might have seen something without registering it. What did he do, exactly?'

‘Well, he was originally suspected of the killing, but they've now arrested someone else, a chap who called round when the husband was out. The theory seems to be that he tried it on with the wife and was given short shrift. Whereupon he lost his temper, lashed out and killed her, and left in a hurry as seen by a ­neighbour. All the same, the husband hardly behaved rationally, disappearing like that with their two little boys. The kids are OK,' he added quickly, seeing her eyes fly to Alice. ‘He dumped them on their grandparents' doorstep a few days later.'

‘But it says here he's still on the run?'

‘That's last week's paper, I'm afraid,' Catherine put in, ‘printed before the arrest. I suppose it's not technically correct now, but the police still want to see him, and though there've been reported sightings of him all over the place – Scotland, Devon, even the Continent – they've not been able to find him.'

‘He must still be in the country, though,' Daniel maintained. ‘They'd have put an immediate watch on ports and airports, so once the body was found it would have been hard to get out. And we know for a fact he was still around four days later, when he returned the children.'

‘But if he didn't do it, why doesn't he come back?' Jenny asked.

‘Good question – he still might have. Although this other chap's been arrested, he's still maintaining his innocence and hasn't been charged yet. The police have asked for an extension of time to question him.'

‘So you think the husband could still be guilty?'

‘Let's just say if he's nothing to hide why doesn't he come forward?'

Jenny shivered. ‘Well, wherever he is, I hope they find him soon,' she said.

It was Saturday evening, and Max was engrossed in a sports programme on TV. Rona had cleared away their supper, switched on the dishwasher and laid the table for breakfast. And all the while, her mind had been turning over the mystery of Susie Baines and her defaced photograph. Oh,
why
was Esther Lytton, who offered the only remaining hope of solution, proving so inaccessible? She'd posted the letter, but it was like sending it into the blue, unsure of where or even if it would land. Was there really nothing else she could do?

She came to a sudden halt in the middle of the kitchen. ‘
Catherine!
' she said aloud, causing Gus to look up enquiringly from his basket. Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it before? Catherine too was a retired head teacher, albeit of a primary rather than an exclusive public school. But she and Esther must be roughly the same age, and could have moved in similar circles. It was certainly worth a try.

She glanced at the kitchen clock. Nine thirty. Not too late to phone, surely?

‘Hello?'

‘Catherine, it's Rona. I hope I'm not disturbing you?'

‘Not at all, dear; I'm just relaxing after a lovely if somewhat hectic day with the family.'

‘How are they?' Though Catherine didn't know it, Rona's query wasn't mere politeness; since her father had told her of their problems, she'd thought several times of Daniel and Jenny, hoping things were working out for them.

‘Oh, they're fine. And Alice is walking! They hadn't told me in advance and the first I knew of it was when they set her down in the hall and she came toddling towards me.'

‘That's lovely!' Rona said warmly.

‘Still, I doubt if you phoned for a report on my family. What can I do for you?'

Rona crossed her fingers. ‘I was wondering if by any chance you'd come across someone called Esther Lytton?'

‘Esther? My goodness, that's a name from the past!'

‘You
know
her?' Rona's voice rang out excitedly.

‘Well, I used to. We did our teacher training together.'

‘But are you still in touch?'

‘Not really, though I saw her relatively recently at a reunion and we had a brief chat.'

‘But would you be able to contact her? I mean, do you know her address?'

‘Goodness, Rona, what is this?'

Rona took a deep breath. ‘Sorry. I'll explain, but just tell me this: did she ever talk about her father or her childhood?'

‘Now you really
are
making me curious! But to answer your question, I don't remember any in-depth conversations with her, and I'm sure we didn't discuss our backgrounds. Why, is it important?'

‘It could have been.' Rona went on to explain the reasons behind her questioning. ‘I've exhausted all other possibilities,' she ended, ‘so you see I really am anxious to get in touch with her if at all possible.'

‘How very interesting! This is definitely the first I've heard about her father being a headmaster, let alone about possible goings-on at the school. Let's see, now; I've probably got her address somewhere; we both belong to an association that sends out annual lists of everyone's whereabouts. As you know, I retired early to look after my mother, but Esther only stepped down at the end of the last school year. There was a write-up about her in the magazine. I can look it up for you, provided I still have it.'

‘I'd be most grateful,' Rona said inadequately.

‘It might take me a while to lay my hands on it but I'll have a look tomorrow, if that's all right?'

‘It's perfect, Catherine, thanks. We're going to Maple Drive for lunch, so we'll be out between twelve and about four, but any time before or after would be fine.'

‘Very well. I'll speak to you then.'

Rona switched off and drew a deep sigh of relief. Perhaps, after all, she was nearing the end of the trail.

C
atherine hadn't phoned by the time they left for Maple Drive. Perhaps, Rona thought anxiously, she'd thrown out the relevant magazine. Was she after all back to square one?

‘It'll be odd, going to Sunday lunch without Tom,' Max commented.

Rona nodded. ‘Every time I go there the house seems somehow – depleted without him. I expect his coat to be on the hall stand.'

Max glanced at her with a half-laugh. ‘No need to sound so tragic, love – he's not
dead
!'

‘I know, and I also know that both he and Mum are happier now than they've been for years. I suppose it's tied up with childhood memories, but I really love that house; it's part of the family, and it doesn't feel right without him.'

‘Well it won't be part of the family much longer,' Max reminded her.

‘I know. I'll have to start bracing myself for that. The thought of it being dismantled . . .' She shuddered.

‘Come on, don't make a drama of it. Most people move house several times, without inviting death and disaster.'

‘But that's the whole point. We
never
moved, so Maple Drive has been “home” all my life. Even this morning, when I first woke, I thought, “What's on today? Oh yes, we're going home for lunch.”'

‘Well, thanks,' he said drily.

‘Oh Max, you know what I mean! I adore our house, you know I do, it's just—'

‘Only teasing,' he said.

‘Tell me about your visit to Maureen,' Avril instructed, when they were sitting with drinks before lunch. ‘I only remember her very vaguely as one of Kitty's “big sisters” who told us off if we made too much noise.'

‘Well, for one thing she's not at all like her school photo,' Rona said.

‘Who is?' Guy interposed. ‘I'd hate to see mine!'

‘She's tall and thin and Bridget's short and stout. They kept bickering, which was a bit embarrassing, but they both had vivid memories of the school.'

‘And they knew who'd been inked out?'

‘Yes; as it happened Maureen was standing directly behind her. It seems this teacher left suddenly in the middle of that last term and no one knew why. Or at least none of the girls did. So we're not much further on that.'

‘When you rang you mentioned the headmaster's daughter?'

‘Yes.' Rona paused. ‘Actually, it turns out Catherine knew her; she's going to look up her address for me.'

Avril's lips pursed, but she said evenly, ‘That should be useful.' Then, with a barely discernible change of direction, ‘Did you know Kitty was with me at the tennis club the night I met your father? She was my bridesmaid, and a year later I was hers. We kept in regular touch for a while, then they moved to Stokely, we both had children, and our lives moved in different directions. Gradually it dwindled to Christmas cards and holiday postcards. It'll be good to see her again, and catch up.'

Guy refilled their glasses.

‘How's Sarah?' Lindsey asked him.

‘Not too good after this morning's news. Did you hear they've released that chap without charge?'

‘No?'

‘A school friend of Lucy's had phoned her about nine o'clock that evening before she went on holiday. Lucy told her she'd just had an unwelcome visitor, and she wasn't looking forward to telling Kevin, because he was jealous of the man. The poor girl arrived back to news of the murder, and was able to establish that Lucy had been alive a good hour after Crane was seen leaving. Which, of course, means Coombes is back in the frame.

‘Meanwhile the school's still in shock. Lucy was on the PTA and frequently helped out, accompanying them on outings, hearing the children read and so on.' He shook his head sadly. ‘Sarah's still having nightmares.'

The word ‘nightmares' brought Magda to mind, and Rona resolved to make another attempt to speak to her. After her talk with Gavin she was convinced something was still very wrong. He'd said they'd invite Max and herself for a meal; had Magda vetoed the idea?

‘Well, we've got a bit of news for you,' Avril was saying brightly. ‘We've found a house that we like very much, and since it's on the market we've decided not to wait till we're married but to go ahead and buy it.'

Both her daughters stared at her, identical expressions on their faces, but neither spoke.

‘After all,' Avril hurried on, ‘it would be stupid to let it go just for the sake of a few months when it's exactly what we want.'

‘You're moving out of here
now
?' Rona asked into the lengthening silence. Max, sitting next to her on the sofa, patted her hand.

Lindsey said in a low voice, ‘I've been hoping you'd change your minds and stay on.'

Avril glared at them in exasperation. ‘Oh,
twins
!' she exclaimed, and the phrase, together with the tone in which it was uttered, was so familiar from childhood that they involuntarily smiled and the tension eased.

‘Actually,' Rona said, ‘I think it's a good idea. I mean, you'll be together somewhere new that hasn't any memories, that'll be
yours
.'

‘Exactly,' Avril said with satisfaction.

‘So where is this new house?' Max asked.

‘In Brindley Grove,' Guy answered. ‘It's halfway between here and Marsborough, off Belmont Road. You know whereabouts I mean?'

Rona's hand clenched. ‘Oh, I know where it is,' she said.

Both Avril and Guy were looking at her. ‘Is something wrong?'

Lindsey said lightly, ‘No doubt it's connected with one of her gruesome discoveries, but you'd be hard pressed to find anywhere that isn't.'

Guy said, ‘Rona? Is it going to be a problem?'

Rona shook herself. ‘Of course not. But . . . it's not the house at the end, is it?'

Avril frowned. ‘The Tarltons'? Why . . .? Oh God!' She clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘I'd forgotten all about that! Oh, darling, I'm sorry! Are you sure it'll be all right?'

‘Of course it will,' Rona said firmly. ‘It's an attractive road; it'll be good for it to have pleasant associations for a change.'

In truth, the upsetting discovery at the Lodge was only one of several unhappy memories the road conjured up for her. It had not been a good time in her life; she and Max were going through a difficult patch which had culminated in his unwarranted arrest. All in all, a more positive outlook was well overdue.

‘It's a cul-de-sac, of course,' Avril was continuing, ‘and our house is on the right as you go in, about halfway down.'

‘And what's it like?' Lindsey asked.

‘It's one of the smaller ones, but detached, with a lovely garden. Guy, have you got the details?'

He produced a folder with the estate agent's description and photograph and they crowded round to look.

‘It seems ideal, Mum,' Rona said, guilty at her momentary lapse. ‘So your offer's been accepted?'

‘Yes, on Friday. The present owners aren't in any hurry, so it will give us time to put this on the market.' She gave a little laugh. ‘Only a few weeks ago we were going round Guy's house, marking who wanted what. We never thought we'd be doing it again so soon. Needless to say, if either of you would like anything specific, you only have to say. We already have what we kept of Guy's furniture, so we'll have to be fairly selective. Now –' she stood up – ‘enough chat. I'll go and put the finishing touches to lunch. I hope you're all hungry.'

‘Well, that was a turn-up for the book,' Max commented on their way home. ‘Particularly in view of our conversation earlier.' He gave a short laugh. ‘You should have seen your and Lindsey's faces! Talk about a lead balloon!'