‘That’s all I wanted to know. Thank you very much for your time, Mr Hadley.’ Jane replaced the receiver and resealed the evidence bag which now needed to be taken to the evidence lock-up. She gathered up the documents that Tim had given her earlier and was just placing them in her bag when her office door opened. Thinking it was Barbara again, she looked up with a frown, but it was DCS Bridges.
‘I have just had confirmation that Beatrice Thorpe is well enough to be interviewed,’ she said.
He gave her a brief nod. ‘I need to cost this, but I presume you are eager to interview her face-to-face in Australia rather than have a telephone conversation?’
‘I think that would be the right course of action, sir,’ Jane nodded.
His eyes narrowed. ‘Let’s just hope for your sake the interview brings the closure we’re looking for, Detective Tennison.’
Jane arrived home just after seven and as soon as she entered the hallway she could see a great deal of work had been accomplished. The wooden stair banisters had been sandpapered down ready for painting, and the stripped floorboards looked as though they had been washed thoroughly, ready to be varnished.
One half of the wall on the stairway had been plastered and when she peered into the sitting room she was pleased to see that the furniture had all been piled in the centre of the room and covered with dust sheets. The wall had been half stripped of the old paper, but she felt too tired to begin work that evening.
On the table in the kitchen was a bunch of roses, alongside a note from Eddie:
Firstly, I apologise about the hat incident. Secondly, I need to pay the team so would you be able to get some cash tomorrow? Also, I need some additional equipment x
He had left his contact number and a stack of invoices clipped together. She went to the phone in the hall to call him. There was no reply and no answer machine clicked on. She was feeling hungry but looking through the fridge there was no ham left, the butter dish had been scraped clean and the bread had been finished. She switched on the kettle whilst she continued searching for some food in the cupboards. All she could find was a tin of baked beans, a tin of hot dogs and several cans of tomatoes, none of which were at all enticing.
After making a cup of tea, Jane headed upstairs to her bedroom, where there had been no visible work done apart from the radiator being taken out. She undressed, wrapped herself in a towelling robe and went into her bathroom, only to find it no longer had a bath or a shower and was also missing a radiator. There had been a lot of new white tiles laid, but that didn’t help. She was just crossing the landing when the security light came on at her front door. Jane peered down the stairs as the door opened and Eddie appeared.
‘Jane?’ he called out.
‘I’m up here,’ she said, coming down a couple of stairs.
‘Did you get my note?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I did... and thank you for the flowers. They weren’t at all necessary, though.’
‘I like to keep my customers happy.’ He grinned.
‘I’m really impressed by how much work has been done, Eddie.’
He came to the edge of the bottom stair. ‘Will you be able to get that cash for me tomorrow?’
‘Yes, absolutely. I’ll go to the bank before I head into the station.’
‘Terrific.’
There was a rather awkward pause between them, but Jane felt no inclination to fill the silence. Eddie pulled off his cap and punched it into a bowl shape before repositioning it on his head.
‘Maybe see you in the morning, then... I’d like to get cracking around seven-ish. I can bring you the best bacon buttie you’ve ever tasted if you like.’
‘That sounds lovely... thank you.’
Again, there was a pause. ‘Right, see you in the morning, then.’
He didn’t wait to hear Jane’s reply and let himself out. Jane felt guilty about being so off-hand with him but she was absolutely exhausted and just wanted to get an early night.
She was already in bed when she remembered she had brought home all the documents from DC Taylor and had left them downstairs in the kitchen. Yawning, she decided she would take a look at them in the morning.
Jane was used to having a shower every morning, but instead she had to wash her hair in the kitchen sink and give herself a quick wash down with a flannel. She headed back up to her bedroom to blow-dry her hair, making a mental note to call her sister as she really needed her highlights done before her potential trip to Australia. After wearing scruffy clothes into the station the previous day, she made a point of taking out one of her best suits and white blouses.
She was fully dressed by six, giving herself time to check over DC Taylor’s documents. She was feeling hungry and was really looking forward to the bacon buttie Eddie had promised. Pouring herself a second cup of tea, she lit a cigarette to stave off the hunger. The young, fresh-faced Tim had actually come up with some rather good information. He had uncovered various magazine and newspaper articles, all providing fascinating background on Muriel Lanark, née Petrukhin. Her mother, Aida, it turned out, had been part of a high-ranking circle of Russian diplomats who were close to the Czar’s family, especially the Czarina Alexandra. During the Russian revolution she had left St Petersburg and had gone to America with Count Petrukhin and their young daughter, Muriel Alexandra, who was born in 1909. There were various references to the family living in an affluent Boston neighbourhood, where they frequently entertained. One blurred black-and-white newspaper photograph showed the Countess Aida looking very much like the British Queen Mary, wearing a tiara and an elaborate choker necklace of pearls.
There were also three references to the Russian count’s financial ruin in the Wall Street crash of 1929. The last reference to Countess Aida Petrukhin was the presentation of her daughter at a debutante ball in 1921, an elaborate affair attended by members of the English aristocracy.
DC Taylor had attached a handwritten note to this article, stating that perhaps this was when Aida had inflated her daughter’s age as debutantes were usually at least seventeen when presented to the royals. Jane made a note to check if Henry Lanark had also been present at the ball, although it was doubtful as his family were not exactly of the nobility. She wanted to find out how Muriel came to be married to him in 1923.
Jane was just checking her latest bank statement, to find out how much she could withdraw to pay Eddie and his team, when the doorbell rang. Jane was disappointed that it was not Eddie bringing her breakfast. Instead, it was his father, Tony, holding up a brown carrier bag.
‘Been ordered to deliver breakfast and I brought some invoices I need you to look over. Also, just to tell you Eddie has seen some nice bathroom suites and we can fit in a corner bath and a shower unit.’
True to Eddie’s promise, the large bacon buttie was tasty, and Tony was very methodical as he talked her through each of the invoices, insisting she inspect everything that had been done in the house with him, though.
He was not very complimentary about some of the plastering, explaining that it was actually quite an art form.
‘If you don’t get it absolutely perfect, when it dries out you’ll have problems hanging the wallpaper.’
By the time they returned to the kitchen he seemed impatient to leave for another job. He gave Jane a list of payments required and said that because she was paying cash, there would be no VAT. However, if she wanted it to go through his company, she would have to add on the VAT.
Jane agreed she would get payment to Eddie at some point that day.