Читаем Guns in the Gallery полностью

‘I am not depressed!’ Sheena seemed taken aback by her own vehemence. ‘Yes, I’m shocked. I’ve lost my daughter. And though, yes, obviously I feel a terrible sadness, I also can’t deny a sense of relief.’

‘But Ned doesn’t share that feeling?’

‘No, he’s still just too caught up in his grief. He’s too raw. I think maybe in time he may come round.’

Jude pushed the flopping blonde hair up off her forehead. ‘And Chervil . . . she doesn’t seem to be suffering too badly either.’

‘Chervil’s a businesswoman. You’ve only seen her in her professional mode. She wouldn’t show her real feelings in such circumstances.’

‘No, of course not.’ Jude would have given a lot to know what conversations had been shared between Sheena Whittaker and her surviving daughter since Fennel’s death. But that was not information she thought she was about to be vouchsafed. And she still hadn’t worked out precisely why Sheena had been so insistent on coming to see her.

‘I’ll tell you why I’m here, Jude.’ Ah, so she was maybe about to be given the answer to that question. ‘I want to ask you a few details about that night you spent with Fennel in the yurt . . . you know, the night she died.’ Again the actual mention of death brought a slight tremor to her voice.

‘I’ll tell you as much as I can remember. As you know, Fennel and I had both had quite a lot to drink.’

‘Yes. When the police talked to me, they said you’d mentioned Fennel having a call on her mobile.’

‘A call or a text. I think it was a text, but I was half asleep when it happened.’

‘Obviously, in the light of what subsequently happened, the identity of the sender of that text becomes rather important.’

‘I couldn’t agree with you more.’

‘But in their searches of the yurt – in fact of the whole Walden area – the police didn’t find any trace of Fennel’s mobile.’

‘Ah. I didn’t know that. The officer who interviewed me – Detective Inspector Hodgkinson – said she’d check it out. But I never heard any more from her.’

‘You met Detective Inspector Hodgkinson too, did you?

‘She questioned you?’

‘Mm. Though she did it in such a subtle way that it didn’t feel like questioning.’

‘I know what you mean. I thought she was quite bright.’

But clearly Sheena Whittaker hadn’t shared that opinion. She shuddered slightly as she said, ‘I didn’t warm to her. Too clever for her own good, if you ask me. And I think she was probably lesbian.’

Jude shrugged. ‘Anyway,’ Sheena went on, ‘Ned’s been worrying a lot about the missing mobile . . . and what it implies.’

‘That someone took it?’

‘That’s one possible explanation, yes.’

‘But if someone took it, that would change the way one views the circumstances of Fennel’s death.’

‘It certainly would.’

‘So, Sheena, do you have any suspicions who might have taken it?’

‘I certainly do.’

‘Right. So who is your suspect?’

‘There’s only one person it could have been.’

‘Who?’

‘You, Jude.’

<p>TWENTY-FIVE</p>

‘But why did she think you’d taken it?’ asked Carole somewhat plaintively.

‘I suppose I was on the scene. I had the opportunity.’

‘But for what reason did she think you might have taken it?’

‘That’s what I couldn’t get out of her. Because if someone did take the phone, then they were probably trying to cover something up. What might they be trying to cover up? Well, one thing is obviously murder.’

‘So did you ask Sheena whether she’d considered the possibility of murder?’

‘Yes. And she wouldn’t be drawn on that. She’s a very stubborn woman. Maybe not stubborn . . . strong-willed perhaps is the word I’m looking for. She comes across as all meek and fluffy, but she has a core of steel. I think she’s the dynamo in that marriage.’

‘So how were things left between you?’

‘Rather as they were with Ned yesterday evening. I was strongly discouraged from suggesting to anyone that Fennel might have been murdered.’

Carole nodded and took a sip of coffee. They were at the kitchen table in High Tor. It was so mild that the Aga had now been switched off for the summer, but out of habit Gulliver still lay beside it, snuffling quietly in his doggy dreams. He had a slight inflammation on one of his paws, not doubt caused by some foreign object on Fethering Beach. An appointment at the vet’s had been booked for later that day, but the injury didn’t seem to be worrying him.

‘So, Jude, do you think Ned and Sheena have the same agenda?’

‘In what way?’

‘Well, the fact that they both seem so keen to get you – or us – off the case might suggest that they’re trying to protect someone. The question is: are they both trying to protect the same person?’

‘I see what you mean. Well, Ned had certainly relayed to Sheena the conversation I had with him in the car park last night. That’s what brought her round to see me.’

‘But he didn’t accuse you of taking Fennel’s mobile?’

‘No. He mentioned it, just said so far as he knew the police hadn’t found the thing. It’s Sheena who leapt to the conclusion that I’d nicked it.’

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