Lies of the Dead Read online

  ‘I know what you mean.’ Maybe it was an excuse. Perhaps he had someone else to meet.

  After Steven left, she waited in the driveway for the twins. She enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her back, and the scent of the honeysuckle and jasmine from the garden. Bees hummed around the flowers.

  ‘Come on, Mum, we’re waiting.’ Sophie grinned at her.

  Either they had got quieter, or she needed a hearing test.

  The fete was in the old vicarage gardens. They strolled through the village, and up the hill towards the church. People still liked to call it a village, but in reality it was now a city suburb, with just a narrow stretch of fields between them and the urban sprawl. Andi only visited the church at Christmas for the carol singing, but she liked to support the village fete. People used it as a way to catch up with friends and neighbours.

  Kristen dragged behind as they walked into the grounds. ‘Mum?’

  Andi turned, while Sophie carried on.

  ‘I’m sorry. Thanks for letting us stay with Dad. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t yours either.’

  Andi hugged her. She wanted to know why Kristen had been stealing, and not just the things from shops. She also wanted Kristen to promise she wouldn’t do it again, but Andi was realistic enough to know those words weren’t the answer. There was something more, and at some point they would need to talk about it, but today wasn’t that day.

  The stalls were arranged around the lawn behind the old building, and to Andi’s swift glance were much the same as previous years. Raffle tickets. A penalty shoot-out, for guys to show off in front of the girls they fancied. Junk stalls under the title of Find-a-Priceless-Antique, and tables of old books. Craft stalls, cakes, fudges and coconut ice. Roll the penny. Except now it was a two-penny piece, which mostly rolled straight across the board and off the edge. Andi wasn’t bothered, she was only here to show her face and support the village funds.

  People stood in groups around the beer tent, with glasses of beer or cider. Conversation and laughter eddied around her.

  The mellow stones of the old house looked soft and warm in the early summer glow. Inside, the wood panelling gave the hallway a gloomy appearance. The double doors at the end of the hallway were open, dissipating the shadows. Andi blinked at the brightness as she walked into the room. Large picture windows had replaced the original leaded glass panes, and changed the whole atmosphere of the formal dining room. That was also helped by a long table displaying plates of scones, jam and cream, as well as large cream sponges and dainty éclairs and Danish pastries. Various styles of coffee tables and chairs were set up around the room. Most were in use, and people who couldn’t find an empty table gathered in the corners, or looked at the books piled haphazardly on two bookcases. Andi bought tea and scones, and sat with neighbours at a table which overlooked the garden.

  When she’d finished her afternoon tea, and tired of the conversation, she said goodbye to the neighbours and wandered back outside. The twins were with a group of friends at the penalty shoot-out. Andi headed towards the rose garden. She took her time amongst the flower beds, and wrote down the names of a few varieties that were highly scented. Maybe the garden centre would stock them. She strolled back to the main grounds to find the twins, and let them know she was leaving. As she looked across at the house, she saw the man from the shopping mall in the shadows on the far side of the lawn.

  In an instant, anger roared through her at how insecure he’d made her feel. She strode across the lawn, and grabbed his arm before he disappeared.

  ‘I have a lot of friends here,’ she lied. ‘So for your sake, for now anyway, we’ll keep this quiet and friendly. Why are you following me?’

  Her heart beat fast, but her initial impression of him from the shopping mall was confirmed by this closer inspection. He had a rumpled look, rather like a comfortable old sofa, and now she had seen him close up he didn’t scare her.

  ‘Fancy a drink?’ he asked, and nodded towards the beer tent.

  ‘Don’t think you’ll get away.’

  The man looked at her as if to say his running days were well behind him.

  They took the drinks and sat at a plastic garden table in the shade.

  ‘So answer my question.’

  ‘I’m not following you. It’s a lovely day out at the village fete.’

  Andi shook her head. ‘Pull the other one, I’m not stupid. I saw you in the car park and later in the shopping mall, and you’ve lurked outside my office. So tell me why you’re following me.’

  The man took a swig of his drink.

  ‘Tell me, or I’ll get a few of my neighbours to help you remember.’

  He sighed, and put his drink down. ‘Because someone paid me.’

  ‘Who paid you?’

  ‘I don’t ask that question. I’m just to follow you, and report back.’

  ‘You must know something about them. You’re supposed to be an investigator.’

  Was it Steven? If so, then he would know about Vincent. But he’d also know she hadn’t slept with him. What was wrong with a dinner date or a visit to the cinema?

  A mutinous look came over the man’s podgy features. ‘I’m not supposed to say.’

  ‘You’re not supposed to be seen, and you shouldn’t have confirmed you are following me, but you’ve done that. So what’s his name?’

  ‘It’s not a him.’

  Her breath came out in a relieved sigh. So it wasn’t Steven. She was glad about that, not because of Vincent, but because the Steven she had fallen in love with would never have her followed. But who was it? ‘You’ve just ruled out half the population, so tell me.’

  The man took a mouthful of his cider, and Andi felt as if she were playing Twenty Questions. Vincent said he and his wife had been divorced several years, and it was amicable. Maybe it wasn’t so amicable from his ex-wife’s perspective. But this man had followed her before she met Vincent.

  ‘The day I saw you at the West Park Mall, was that the first time you’d followed me?’

  ‘Look lady, you might have spotted me, but I won’t tell you who’s paying me.’

  His voice had a slight accent. He probably wasn’t from London, but he might have lived there for a long time. She remembered Liam’s apartment and the missing papers.

  ‘Is it Janine?’

  The man shook his head, and Andi felt he was telling the truth. This was stupid. She wasn’t the type of person to have enemies. Surely no one would pay to have her followed? But what about Liam? Janine had lied about working with him, and taken his work papers.

  ‘This woman,’ said Andi. ‘Is she tall, about my height, but with pale skin and long auburn hair?’

  ‘No.’

  But Andi caught the look of panic that crossed his face, and smiled. ‘So it is Janine.’

  The man sighed as he put down his empty glass. ‘That’s not what she called herself. You’ll ruin me, lady.’

  ‘If anyone ruins you, it’ll be you. You’re not very good at this.’

  ‘I haven’t been in the game long, started it up with my redundancy money. I’ve only had a few cases up to now, and they’ve been easy. Not suspicious types like you.’

  ‘You need to go to private detective classes. Don’t follow me again. I don’t care what reason you give her, but if I see you, I’ll call the police.’

  As the man stood up, Andi remembered she and Tom didn’t know how to contact Janine.

  ‘Do you have a phone number or address for her?’

  ‘What do you take me for? Even if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you. I only met her once. She rings me, and I give her a verbal report.’

  Andi didn’t think he was lying. It wasn’t one of his skills.

  That evening she rang Tom. ‘Do you remember I thought I was being followed? Well, I was right. It’s a private investigator. That bloody woman, Janine, hired him.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I saw him today at the village fete and confronted him.’

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nbsp; ‘Hell, Andi, you took a risk.’

  ‘You wouldn’t think so if you saw him. He wasn’t the hard-man type. I know not all private investigators are ex-bouncers, but he wasn’t scary at all.’

  ‘What did Janine expect to find out?’

  ‘I don’t know. Apparently he reported on where I went and who I met. It doesn’t make any sense.’

  ‘Janine obviously thinks we know or have something.’

  ‘But what? Have you noticed anyone lurking around the village?’

  ‘No, and they’d find it difficult to follow me when I’m out on Kalina.’

  Andi sighed. She was pleased she’d solved the mystery of who was following her, and that she hadn’t imagined it, but there were still too many unanswered questions. ‘It’s obviously to do with Liam.’

  ‘I received a letter from some lawyers. They enclosed a note from Liam.’ Andi sat up straight at his words.

  ‘What did it say?’

  ‘Not a lot, just to get in touch with the lawyers if Janine caused us any trouble.’

  ‘A private detective is trouble. We need to ring them and find out what they know.’

  ‘I’m not sure ringing them is a good idea.’ Tom’s voice sounded weary.

  ‘What? You can’t mean that.’ If Tom didn’t want to phone the lawyers, she certainly would.

  ‘What I meant was, I’d prefer to visit this Greta Powell. I rang her when I first got the letter, but she wouldn’t tell me anything. It will be easier if we meet face to face, especially now you’ve found out about this private investigator.’

  ‘You’re not leaving me out,’ said Andi. ‘It was me he followed, and it won’t be so easy for her to fob us both off.’

  ‘That’s a good idea, especially as their office is in Bristol. I’ll see you on Monday.’ Now there was a smile in Tom’s voice. He’d set her up with his comment about not phoning the solicitors.

  Private detectives and lawyers. Life with Liam was a problem, even when he was dead.

  Chapter 14

  Tom

  Tom made an appointment to see Greta Powell on Monday afternoon.

  He texted Andi the appointment time, and asked her to bring her passport or driver’s licence. He grinned, imagining her puzzled frown when she read that.

  Traffic was heavy on the motorway, and the drive took him longer than he’d anticipated. When he met Andi at the end of Corn Street, they had to talk as they hurried to the lawyer’s office.

  ‘Why do I need my passport and driving licence?’ asked Andi.

  ‘You have got them?’

  ‘Of course, what do you take me for?’

  ‘A person who likes to know everything, and doesn’t take kindly to instructions.’

  Andi laughed, and acknowledged the truth of that.

  ‘I wanted to tell you a few things before we met this Greta Powell, but we don’t have time now, so just follow my lead and don’t look too surprised.’

  Andi stopped in the middle of the street. ‘This doesn’t sound like the big brother I know.’

  ‘Come on, I promise I’ll fill you in on everything once we’ve finished here.’

  ‘Just as well I’ve taken the rest of the afternoon off.’

  The offices were on the second floor of an older building. Tom took the stairs and Andi followed him. On the wall behind the receptionist, a large brushed metal display showed the names of the partners, with Greta Powell’s among them.

  The receptionist rang Greta to let her know they’d arrived, and a few minutes later she came into the reception area. Her stiletto heels clicked on the wood floor, but in spite of their height they only brought her level with Tom’s shoulder.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Mr Trethowan.’ She had a friendly smile, but Tom sensed some hesitation in her manner.

  He shook her hand. ‘This is my sister Andi.’

  The two women nodded at each other, and then Greta pointed to a meeting room. ‘Let’s go in here.’

  In the meeting room, Tom pulled out his wallet. ‘When we spoke on the phone you said I could be anyone, so here’s my driving licence.’

  Andi took her passport out of her bag, and handed it to Greta.

  Greta’s smile became apologetic, but she looked at both the passport and driving licence.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘But I’m not sure how I can help you. I thought I made that clear when we spoke.’

  ‘Things have changed since then,’ said Tom.

  ‘I’ve been followed by a private detective.’ Andi glanced at Tom. ‘Sorry. I’ll let Tom get on with the explanation.’

  Greta raised her eyebrows at Andi’s words, and waved towards the seats around the meeting room table. ‘It sounds as though we’d better sit down.’

  ‘Here is the note you sent me. I don’t know if you’ve seen it.’

  Greta shook her head, and Tom gave her Liam’s handwritten note. She read it then pushed it back across the table.

  He explained about Andi being followed, and that when she confronted the man, he admitted Janine paid him to follow her.

  ‘We’ve only met Janine once, at Liam’s apartment. She told us she worked with Liam, but when I tried to contact her at Thornley Trust they said she wasn’t a member of staff. She took some of Liam’s papers from the apartment.’

  Greta leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, and steepled her fingers under her chin. She stayed like that briefly before she straightened. ‘Have you got proof of this?’

  Andi pulled a face and looked at Tom.

  ‘The private investigator wouldn’t give Andi any proof that Janine paid him.’

  Greta opened her mouth to speak, but Tom carried on. ‘However, I do have something else I think might change things a little.’

  He pushed Liam’s driving licence across the table, the one from Liam’s wallet on the boat, together with Liam’s passport. ‘This is my brother.’

  Greta frowned as she studied both documents, then nodded at him. ‘And…’

  ‘I think this man, Chris Toogood, is your client.’ He gave Greta the driving licence in Chris Toogood’s name, but with Liam’s photo. He gritted his teeth to stop himself saying anything else. So much depended on his guess being right. Andi leaned forward. Tom could feel her stare, but kept his attention on Greta.

  Greta’s expression didn’t change. She breathed in deeply, and finally handed the driving licence back to Tom. He noticed Andi’s hand move fractionally, but he put the small plastic card back in his pocket.

  Greta stared at the wall, her lips pursed. Tom remained quiet, and hoped Andi wouldn’t break the silence.

  ‘As I told you my instructions were to send you that envelope in the event of Liam Trethowan’s death. We were alerted to that sometime after the event, and sent you the sealed letter.’

  Tom tried hard not to sigh. This sounded very much as if they wouldn’t get any further.

  ‘In any other circumstances I’d say you haven’t given me enough proof, but you’re correct, my client is Mr Toogood. It would also appear that Mr Toogood isn’t in any position to give further instructions.’ Greta looked at Tom. ‘I have a good memory for faces, and certainly that one.’

  She was quiet again, and Tom felt the frustration and anticipation build inside him in equal measure.’

  ‘When did you last see him?’

  He wasn’t sure Greta would answer him, but after some consideration she said, ‘I can’t remember exactly – it would be in my diary – but a day or so before the date of his death.’

  He heard Andi’s gasp, and she wriggled on the chair next to him. It was probably the only way she kept herself from interrupting the conversation.

  ‘Wait here a moment.’ Greta left the room, and closed the door behind her.

  Andi turned to Tom. He heard her intake of breath, which meant a volley of questions.

  He shook his head. ‘Not just yet, Andi. Let’s see what she does, and I’ll explain afterwards.’

  ‘You’d better.’
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  Greta returned a few minutes later, and gave Tom a small padded plastic envelope.

  ‘Mr Toogood left this for you. His instructions were… vague. He said I should give this to you, or your sister, if either of you gave me enough reason to believe you would need it.’

  Andi’s eyes were wide, and her mouth opened a little as she looked at Greta.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Greta. ‘Not the kind of instructions I like to take, but he insisted I handle it that way.’

  ‘Do you know what’s in here?’ asked Tom.

  Greta shook her head.

  ‘How did you meet Mr Toogood?’

  ‘He made an appointment about a year ago, and I witnessed his signature on some documents. I did the same a month or so later. After that I didn’t see him until he left that package and the sealed envelope I sent you initially.’

  ‘Did he leave anything else?’ asked Tom.

  ‘No. So I doubt I’ll see you again.’ Greta stood, as if to say they were finished.

  ‘Thank you for your help,’ said Tom.

  ‘I’m merely following the instructions. I’d be careful if I were you.’

  Andi frowned and opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Tom.

  ‘I’m sure you understand there is something… wrong with at least one of the items you showed me.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tom. ‘But I only found it.’

  ‘In the law, ignorance isn’t always a good enough excuse. If Mr Toogood acquired the driving licence, presumably he needed it for a reason. That reason might not be favourable to you.’ Greta opened the meeting room door, and showed them back to the lifts.

  Outside Andi led the way to a café on the harbourside. They ordered drinks and sat at an outside table, selecting one away from other customers.

  She held out her hand. ‘Let me see what you showed her that made her change her mind.’

  Tom gave her the driving licence for Chris Toogood with Liam’s photo.

  ‘This must be forged. Bloody hell.’ She stared at the small rectangle of plastic. ‘Who’s Chris Toogood?’

  Tom explained briefly what he remembered of the family.