The Sculptress (35 page)

Hal took the chicken from the oven and put it on
the table with the rice. ‘You do realize your dear old
man must be in it up to his neck? Crew would never
have given him chapter and verse on Amber’s child
unless Hayes has some kind of hold on him.’

She stared at him for a long moment, then removed
the Svengali photographs from her briefcase. ‘Perhaps
he knows Crew is using Robert’s money. Or perhaps,’
she said slowly, ‘he knows who really murdered Gwen
and Amber. Either or both could ruin Crew.’ She
fanned the pictures across the table. ‘He was Olive’s
lover,’ she said simply, ‘and if I could find out so easily
then so could anyone else. Including the police. You let her down, Hal, all of you. It’s a betrayal of justice
to assume someone’s guilt before it’s proved.’

Watery blue eyes regarded Roz with undisguised
pleasure. ‘Well, well. You came back. Come in. Come
in.’ He peered past her, frowning at Hal in half-recognition.
‘Surely we’ve met before. What shall I
say? I never forget a face. Now when could that have
been?’

Hal shook the old man’s hand. ‘Six years ago,’ he
said pleasantly. ‘I was on the Olive Martin case.
Sergeant Hawksley.’ The hand fluttered weakly in his,
like a tiny bird, but only from old age and decrepitude,
Hal thought.

Mr Hayes nodded vigorously. ‘I remember now.
Unhappy circumstances.’ He fussed ahead of them
into the sitting room. ‘Sit down. Sit down. Any news?’
He took a firm chair and sat bolt upright his head
cocked enquiringly to one side. On the sideboard
behind him his violent son smiled disarmingly into
the camera.

Roz took her notebook from her handbag and
switched on her recorder again. They had reached a
mutual decision that Roz should ask the questions.
For, as Hal had pointed out: ‘If he knows anything,
he’s more likely to let it slip while talking to a – what
shall I say? – charming young lady about Olive.’

‘In fact,’ she said in a gossipy voice which grated on Hal but clearly appealed to Mr Hayes, ‘there’s
quite a bit of news one way and another. Where would
you like me to begin? With Olive? Or with Amber’s
baby?’ She gave him an approving look. ‘You were
quite right about them finding traces, you know, in
spite of there being thousands of Browns in Australia.’

‘Ah,’ he said, rubbing his hands, ‘I knew they were
close. That mean the lad will get the money? What
shall I say? It’s what Bob wanted. Fair upset him, it
did, to think the government would get it all.’

‘He made alternative provisions, you know, in case
the boy wasn’t found. It’ll go to various children’s
charities.’

The old man’s mouth compressed into a split of
disgust. ‘And we all know what sort of children they’ll
be. The worthless sort. The sort as are never going
to make anything of theirselves but live off the rest of
us till they drop. And you know who I blame. The
social workers. They’re namby-pamby when it comes
to telling a woman she’s had more children than’s
good for her.’

‘Quite,’ Roz interrupted hurriedly, reining in the
inevitable hobby horse. She tapped her pencil on her
notepad. ‘Do you remember telling me that your wife
thought Olive committed the murders because of
hormones?’

He pursed his lips at the abrupt change of subject.
‘Maybe.’

‘Did your wife say that because she knew Olive had
had an abortion the previous Christmas?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Do you know who the father was, Mr Hayes?’

He shook his head. ‘Someone she met through
work, we were told. Silly girl. Only did it to cock a
snook at Amber.’ He fingered his ancient mouth. ‘Or
that’s what I reckoned anyway. Amber had a lot of
boyfriends.’

So much for Mr Hayes and Crew in a conspiracy
of silence, thought Roz. ‘When did you find out about
it?’

‘Gwen told my Jeannie. She was that upset.
Thought Olive was going to up and get married and
abandon them all. It would have done for Gwen, that
would. She couldn’t have coped on her own.’

‘Coped with what?’

‘Everything,’ he said vaguely.

‘Housework, you mean?’

‘Housework, cooking, bills, shopping. Everything.
Olive did everything.’

‘What did Gwen do?’

He didn’t answer immediately, but seemed to be
weighing something in his mind. He glanced across
at Hal. ‘You lot never did ask many questions. I might
have said something if you had.’

Hal eased himself in his chair. ‘At the time it was
clear cut,’ he said carefully. ‘But Miss Leigh has
unearthed a number of discrepancies which do tend to throw a different light on the affair. What would
you have told us, had you been asked?’

Mr Hayes sucked at his false teeth. ‘Well, for one
thing, Gwen Martin drank too much. She had
troubles, I can’t deny that, kept up a good front, I
can’t deny that either, but she was a bad mother. She
married beneath herself and it made her bitter. Felt
life had dealt her a bad hand and she took it out on
Bob and the girls. My Jeannie always said if it hadn’t
been for Olive the family would have fallen apart years
before. It made us sick, of course, what she did, but
everyone turns eventually and she was badly put upon
one way and another. She shouldn’t have killed them,
though. Can’t forgive that.’

‘No,’ said Roz thoughtfully. ‘So what did Gwen do
all day while the other three were out at work?’

The marbled hands fluttered a contradiction.
‘Amber was at home more often than not. Work-shy,
that one. Never stayed anywhere very long. Used to
drive her mother mad listening to pop records at full
blast and inviting boys up to her bedroom. She was a
pretty girl but my Jeannie said she was difficult.
Couldn’t see it myself.’ He smiled reminiscently. ‘She
was always charming to me. I had a soft spot for little
Amber. But she got on with men, I think, better than
she got on with women.’ He peered at Roz. ‘You
asked me about Gwen. What shall I say, Miss Leigh?
She kept up appearances. If you knocked on the door
she was always smartly dressed, always held herself well, always spoke with icy correctness, but as often
as not she was drunk as a lord. Strange woman. Never
did know why she took to the bottle, unless it was
the business of Amber’s baby. She was a lot worse
afterwards.’

Roz drew her cherub doodle. ‘Robert Martin was
an active homosexual but didn’t want anyone to
know,’ she said bluntly. ‘Perhaps that’s what she found
difficult to cope with.’

Mr Hayes sniffed. ‘She drove him to it,’ he said.
‘There was nothing wrong with Bob that a loving
wife wouldn’t have put right. The two girls were his
all right, so there was nothing untoward in the locker
at the beginning, if you get my meaning. It was her
turned him off women. She was frigid.’

Roz let that pass. Mr Hayes was too set in his views
to see that what he said was nonsense and, in any
case, there was probably some truth in the idea that
Gwen was frigid. Roz found it difficult to believe
that Robert Martin could ever have got as far as the
altar with a woman who had a normal sexual drive.
Her very normality would have been a threat to him.
‘But if she was mourning Amber’s baby,’ she said in
feigned puzzlement, ‘I don’t understand why she
didn’t try and get him back or at least establish contact
with him? Presumably she knew who had adopted him
or she wouldn’t have been able to tell your Jeannie his
name.’

He tut-tutted impatiently. ‘It wasn’t Jeannie told me the name, it was my son, Stewart, six, seven weeks
back. Knew I’d be interested, seeing as how me and
Bob were pals.’ He wagged a finger at her. ‘You don’t
know much about adoption, that’s for sure. Once you
sign ’em away, that’s it. You’re not given a dossier.
Gwen never knew who’d got him.’

Roz smiled easily. ‘Does your son work for Mr
Crew, then? I’ve not come across him. I thought he
took after you and became a soldier.’

‘Blooming Army didn’t want him any more, did
they?’ he muttered crossly. ‘Cutbacks there, like everywhere
else. What shall I say? So much for loyalty to
Queen and country. Course he doesn’t work for Mr
Crew. He’s running a small security firm with his
brother, but there’s precious little work.’ He flexed
his arthritic fingers in annoyance. ‘Trained soldiers
and the best they can get is nightwatchmen jobs.
Their wives aren’t happy, not by a long chalk.’

Roz gritted her teeth behind another ingenuous
smile. ‘So how did he know the child’s name?’

Archly, Mr Hayes tapped the side of his nose. ‘No
names no pack drill, young lady. Always best.’

Hal leaned forward aggressively and held up a
hand. ‘One moment, please, Miss Leigh.’ He drew
his brows together in a ferocious scowl. ‘You do
realize, Mr Hayes, that if your son doesn’t work for
Mr Crew then, strictly speaking, he’s committed an
offence by being in receipt of confidential information.
The legal profession is bound by the same codes as the medical profession and if someone in Mr
Crew’s practice is talking to outsiders, then both he
and the police would want to know about it.’

‘Bah!’ the old man snorted contemptuously. ‘You
never change, you lot. What shall I say? Quick as
lightning to bang up the innocent while the bloody
thieves wander around, free as birds, nicking anything
they feel like nicking. You should do what you’re
being paid for, Sergeant, and not go round threatening
old men. It was Mr Crew himself gave out that
information. He told my lad and my lad told me.
How’s he supposed to know it’s confidential if the
blooming solicitor’s telling everyone? Stands to reason
he’d pass it on, seeing as how I was the only friend
Bob had at the end.’ He glared suspiciously from Hal
to Roz. ‘What you bring a policeman for, anyway?’

‘Because there’s some doubt of Olive’s guilt,’ said
Roz glibly, wondering if being economical with the
truth constituted deliberate impersonation of a police
officer. ‘This gentleman is holding a watching brief
while I talk to people.’

‘I see,’ said Mr Hayes. But it was obvious he didn’t.

‘I’m nearly finished.’ She smiled brightly. ‘I found
the Clarkes, by the way. Had a chat with them a week
or so ago. Poor Mrs Clarke is completely senile now.’

The watery eyes looked amused. ‘That doesn’t surprise
me. She was pretty far gone when I knew her. I
sometimes thought my Jeannie was the only sensible
woman in the road.’

‘I gather Mr Clarke had to stay at home to look
after her?’ She raised her eyebrows in enquiry. ‘But
he spent more time with Robert than he spent with
her. How friendly were they, Mr Hayes? Do you
know?’

It was obvious he understood the point of her
question. He chose – out of delicacy? – not to answer
it. ‘Good friends,’ he muttered, ‘and who can blame
them? Bob’s wife was a dipso and Ted’s was the silliest
creature I’ve ever met. Cleaned the house from top
to bottom every day.’ He gave a grunt of contempt.
‘Hygiene mad, she was. Used to walk around in
nothing but an overall, no undies in case she spread
germs, swabbing everything with disinfectant.’ He
chuckled suddenly. ‘Remember once she scrubbed the
dining table with neat Domestos to sterilize it. Hah!
Ted was hopping mad. He’d just paid for the thing
to be french polished after Dorothy’s last effort with
boiling water. And now she’s completely senile, you
say. Not surprised. Not surprised at all.’

Roz sat with her pencil poised above her notepad.
‘And can you say,’ she asked after a moment, ‘if Ted
and Bob were lovers?’

‘No. It weren’t none of my business.’

‘OK.’ She gathered her things together. ‘Thank
you, Mr Hayes. I don’t know if there’s anything Mr
Hawksley wants to ask you.’ She looked at Hal.

He stood up. ‘Only the name of your son’s security
firm, Mr Hayes.’

The old man eyed him suspiciously. ‘What you want
that for?’

‘Just so I can put a quiet word in the right ear
about the leak of privileged information.’ He smiled
coldly. ‘Otherwise I shall have to report it and then
there’ll be an official complaint.’ He shrugged. ‘Don’t
worry. You have my word I won’t make an issue out
of it, not unless I have to.’

‘The word of a policeman, eh? That’s not something
I’d want to rely on. Certainly not.’

Hal buttoned his jacket. ‘It’ll have to go through
official channels then, and it’ll be an inspector coming
to see you next time.’

‘What shall I say? Blooming blackmail, that’s all
this is. STC Security, Bell Street, Southampton. There
now. Let’s see if your word’s worth something.’

Hal looked past him towards the photograph of his
son. ‘Thank you, Mr Hayes,’ he said pleasantly.
‘You’ve been very helpful.’

ROZ WALKED BACK
to the car deep in thought.
‘What’s up?’ Hal asked her.

‘Just something he said.’ She put her bag on the
roof and stared into the middle distance, trying to
pick up an elusive thread. ‘It’s no good. I’ll have to go
back through my notes.’ She unlocked the door. ‘So
what do we do now? Go to the police?’ She released
Hal’s door and he climbed in beside her.

‘No. We’d be there all day answering questions and
there’s no guarantee they’d act at the end of it.’ He
thought for a moment. ‘And it’s no good tackling
Crew either. If we’re going to nail him we’ll have to
do it through Stewart Hayes and his security firm.’

Roz winced. ‘We? Listen, Hawksley, I’ve already
had my hair pulled out once by that gorilla. I’m not
sure I fancy it a second time.’ She meant it, too.

Hal put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a
reassuring squeeze. ‘If it’s any consolation, I don’t
think I fancy it much either.’ He could smell the scent of soap on her face and with a sigh he moved away.
‘But we’ve got to get it settled one way or another,’
he said coolly. ‘I can’t stand much more of this.’

Her insecurities resurfaced. ‘Much more of what?’