[Wexford 01] From Doon & Death (12 page)

'A compulsory-purchase order
’
Wexford said.
‘I
see
’
He stuck his head round the door. 'Sergeant Camb! Tea, please, and an extra cup.
‘I’ll
just read that letter, if you don't mind, Mr Parsons
’

It was written on thin blue paper and Mrs Katz had found plenty to tell her cousin. The first two pages were entirely taken up with an account of a holiday Mr and Mrs Katz and their three children had spent in Florida; Mrs Katz's new car; a barbecue her husband had bought her. Mr and Mrs Parsons were invited to come to Slate City for a holiday. Wexford began to see what Parsons had meant.

The last page was more interesting.

Gee,
Meg
(Mrs Katz had written),
I
sure
was
amazed to
see
you
and
Ron
had
moved
to
Kingsmarkham.
I'll bet
that
was
Ron's
idea,
not
yours.
And
you
have
met up
with
Doon
again,
have
you?
I
sure
would
like
to know
who
Doon
is.
You've
got
to
tell
me,
not
keep dropping
hints.

Still,
I
can't
see
why
you
should
be
scared
of
Doon. What
of,
for
the
Lord's
sake?
There
was
never
anything in
that.
(You
know
what
I
mean,
Meg.)
I
can't
believe Doon
is
still
keen.
You
always
had
a
suspicious
mind!!! But
if
meeting
Doon
means
trips
in
the
car
and
a
few free
meals
I
wouldn't
be
too
scrupulous.

When
are
you
and
Ron
going
to
get
a
car
of
your own?
Wil
says
he
just
doesn't
know
how
you
make
out...

There was some more in the same vein, sprinkled with exclamation marks and heavily underlined. The letter ended:

...
Regards
to
Ron
and
remind
him
there's
a
big welcome
waiting
for
you
both
in
Sunflower
Park whenever
you
feel
like
hitting
Colorado,
U.SA.
Love from
Nan.
Greg,
Joanna
and
Kim
send
hugs
to
their Auntie
Meg.

This could be very important, Mr Parsons
’
Wexford said.
‘I’d
like to hang on to it'

Parsons got up, leaving his tea untasted.

‘I
wish it hadn't come
’
he said.
‘I
wanted to remember Margaret as I knew her. I thought she was different. Now I know she was just like the rest, carrying on with another man for what she could get out of him'

Wexford said quietly: I'm afraid it looks like that. Tell me, didn't you have any idea that your wife might be going out with this man, this Doon? It looks very much as if Doon knew her when she lived in Flagford and took up with her again when she came back. She must have gone to school here, Mr Parsons. Didn't you know that?'

Did Parsons look furtive, or was it just a desire to hold on to some remnants of his private life, his marriage broken both by infidelity and by death, that made him flush and fidget?

'She wasn't happy in Hagford. She didn't want to talk about it and I stopped asking her. I reckon it was because they were such a lot of snobs. I respected her reticence. Chief Inspector.'

‘D
id she talk to you about her boy friends?'

That was a closed book,' Parsons said, 'a closed book for both of us. I didn't
want
to know, you see.' He walked to the window and peered out as if it was night instead of bright day. 'We weren't those kind of people. We weren't the kind of people who have love affairs.' He stopped, remembering the letter.
‘I
can't believe it I can't believe that of Margaret. She was a good woman. Chief Inspector, a good loving woman. I can't help thinking
that
Katz woman was making up a lot of things that just weren't true, making them up out of her own head
’

'We shall know a bit more when we hear from Colorado
’
Wexford said.
‘I’m
hoping to get hold of the last letter your wife wrote to Mrs Katz. There's no reason why it shouldn't be made available to you
’

Thank you for nothing
’
Parsons said. He hesitated, touched the green cover of Swinburne's verses and walked quickly from the room.

It was some sort of a break, Wexford thought, some sort of a break at last. He picked up the telephone and told the switchboard girl he wanted to make a call to the United States. This had been a strange woman, he reflected as he waited, a strange secretive woman leading a double life. To her husband and the unobservant world she had been a sensible prudent housewife in sandals and a cotton frock, an infants' teacher who polished the front step with Brasso and went to church socials. But someone, someone generous and romantic and passionate, had been tantalized and maddened by her for twelve long years.

Chapter 9

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad
...

Tennyson
,
The
Lady
of
Shalott

Miss Fowler's was an unacademic bookless flat. Burden, who was aware of his own failing of cataloguing people in types, had tried not to expect old-maidishness. But this was what he found. The room into which Miss Fowler showed him was full of hand-made things. The cushion covers had been carefully embroidered, the amateurish water-colours obviously executed with patience, the ceramics bold. It looked as if Miss Fowler could hardly bear to reject the gift of an old scholar, but the collection was neither restful nor pleasing.

‘P
oor, poor Margaret
’
she said. Burden sat down and Miss Fowler perched herself in a rocking chair opposite him, her feet on a petit-point footstool. 'What a very shocking thing all
this
is! That poor man too. I've got the list you wanted.'

Burden glanced at the neatly typed row of names.

Tell me about her
’
he said.

Miss Fowler laughed self-consciously, then bit her lip as if she thought this was no occasion for laughter.

'Honestly, Inspector
’
she said,
‘I
can't remember. You see, there are so many girls
...
Of course, we don't forget them all, but naturally if s the ones who achieve something, get Firsts or find really spectacular posts, those are the ones we remember. Hers wasn't a very distinguished year. There was plenty of promise, but none of it came to very much. I saw her, you know, after she came back
’

'Here? In K
ingsmarkham?'

It must have been about a month ago
’
She took a packet of Weights from the mantelpiece, offered one to Burden, and puffed bravely at her own as he held a match to it.

They never really grow up, he thought.

'I was in the High Street,' she went on. It was just after school and she was coming out of a shop. She said, "Good afternoon. Miss Fowler." Honestly, I hadn't the faintest idea who she was. Then she said she was Margaret Godfrey. You see, they expect you to remember them. Inspector.'

Then how did you
...
?'

How
did I connect her with Mrs Parsons? When I saw the photograph. You know, I felt sorry we hadn't talked, but I'm always seeing old girls, but I honestly couldn't tell you who they are or their ages, come to that. They might be eighteen or thirty. You know how it is, you can't tell the ages of people younger than yourself.' She looked up at Burden and smiled. 'But you
are
young,' she said.

Again he returned to the list The names were in alphabetical order. He read aloud slowly, waiting for Miss Fowler's reactions:

'Lyn
Annesley,
Joan
Bertram,
Clare
Clarke,
Wendy Ditcham,
Margaret
Dolan,
Margaret
Godfrey,
Mary Henshaw,
Jillian
Ingram,
Anne
Kelly,
Helen
Laird, Marjorie
Miller,
Hilda
Pensteman,
Janet
Probyn,
Fabia Rogers,
Deirdre
Sachs,
Diana
Stevens,
Winifred
Thomas, Gwen
Williams,
Yvonne
Young
’

Under the names Mrs Morpeth had written with an air of triumph:
Miss
Clare
Clarke
is
a
member
of
the High
School
teaching
staff!!!

I'd
like to talk to Miss Clarke
’
he said.

'She lives at Nectarine Cottage down the first lane on the left on the Stowerton Road
’
Miss Fowler said.

Burden said slowly, F
abia is a very unusual name
’

Miss Fowler shrugged. She patted her stiffly waved grey hair. 'Not a particularly unusual type
’
she said. Just one of those very promising people I was telling you about who never amounted to much. She lives here somewhere. She and her husband are quite well known in what I believe are called social circles. Helen Laird was another one. Very lovely, very self-confident. Always in trouble. Boys, you know. Honestly, so silly! I thought she'd go on the stage, but she didn't, she just got married. And then Miss Clarke, of course
...'

Burden had the impression she had been about to include Miss Clarke among the failures, but that loyalty to her staff prevented her. He didn't pursue it She had given him a more disturbing lead.

'What did you say happened to Helen Laird?'

‘I
really know nothing, Inspector. Mrs Morpeth said something about her having married a car salesman. Such a waste!' She stubbed out her cigarette into an ashtray that was daubed with poster paint and obviously home-baked. When she went on her voice sounded faintly sad. They leave, you know, and we forget them, and then about fifteen years later a little tot turns up in the first form and you think, I've seen that face before somewhere! Of course you have - her mother's
’

Dymphna and Priscilla, Burden thought, nearly sure. Not long now, and Dymphna's face, the same red hair perhaps, would revive in Miss Fowler's memory some long-lost chord.

'Still,' she said, as if reading his thoughts, 'there's a limit to everything and I retire in two years' time.'

He thanked her for the list and left. As soon as he got to the station Wexford showed him the Katz letter.

It all points to Doon being the killer, sir,' Burden said, 'whoever he is. What do we do now, wait to hear from Colorado?'

'No, Mike, we'll have to press on. Clearly Mrs Katz doesn't know who Doon is and the best we can hope for is to get some of the background from her and the last letter Mrs P. sent her before she died. Doon is probably going to turn out to be a boy friend Mrs P. had when she was at school here. Let's hope she didn't have too many.'