‘It’s up to you.’ Eddie signalled for the bill.
Jane hardly said a word on the drive back to the house. When they parked up, Eddie rested his arm along the back of the seat and rubbed her neck.
‘You sure everything is OK, Jane? I’ll sort this cannabis situation tomorrow first thing.’
‘It’s nothing to do with that, Eddie, it’s just this case. I’m starting to feel there’s going to be some serious backlash from my Australia trip. My boss has really got it in for me. Everything in the police is now about budget, budget, budget and he’s already suggested I’ve wasted valuable funds by going. But I just wanted to find the truth about what happened in that shelter.’
‘So, did you find it?’ Eddie asked.
‘In a way. And it was pretty unsavoury.’
Eddie got out of the car and opened the door for her.
‘You could do with a couple of days away... take a break.’
She laughed. ‘I’d like that. But right now, if DCI Carter found me asking for a couple of days’ leave when I’ve only just got back from Australia, he’d blow his top.’
‘What about the weekend?’ Eddie asked, as he unlocked the front door. They walked into the kitchen and Jane put her handbag down on the kitchen table.
‘You know I said it was unsavoury, what had happened? It was actually much worse than that. I discovered their father had more than likely been having an incestuous relationship with his daughter who committed suicide.’
Eddie put the kettle on as Jane opened her briefcase and took out the envelope of photographs.
‘He was a keen photographer and had a darkroom in the basement. This is what I found when I was in Australia.’ Jane laid out the awful photos of Marjorie hanging from the swing. She then showed Eddie some of the nude pictures of Henry Lanark’s daughters. He glanced at them briefly, shaking his head.
‘He must have been a monster of a man to do this to his own daughters. I think they were home tutored, and probably very naïve, with a mother who, as far as I can make out, was immature herself, having been married off at a frighteningly young age.’
Eddie placed a mug of tea down on the table in front of her. ‘So, what’s your point?’ he asked, returning to the kettle to fill his own mug.
‘What do you mean, what’s my point?’ she asked, curtly.
‘Well, it all happened so long ago... aren’t two of them dead? Why are you getting so worked up about it?’
‘I am not getting worked up,’ Jane said.
‘Yes, you are. I mean, if you know how the baby died in the air-raid shelter, then isn’t that enough?’
Jane pursed her lips, gathered up the photographs and put them back in the envelope.
‘Yes, you’re right,’ she said in a cold voice. ‘Sorry if I’m boring you.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Jane, you aren’t boring me. I’m just concerned about you. Maybe you’re having trouble with your boss because he thinks, like I do, that there are more pressing crimes out there needing your attention...’
‘He doesn’t think like that. If you must know, the dirtbag even insinuated that he could get into my pants if he accompanied me to Australia. And for your information, I don’t care if a crime was committed yesterday or twenty, thirty or forty years ago, it still deserves some kind of justice.’
Eddie held his hands up in a placating gesture. ‘You are absolutely right. Look, I’m not going to get into this, but if you want my humble opinion as a lowly decorator-plumber-electrician, you say this lawyer bloke has known the old lady you think was murdered for years. So he must have handled all her legal documents and would know how much money she had and who she left it to and all that.’
Jane looked at him. ‘Firstly, you are not a “lowly” anything. Secondly, I wish I’d thought of that. I’m going to call that lawyer right now.’
‘Jane, it’s half past eleven. I think you’d be better off leaving it till the morning. Plus you’ve had more than three quarters of a bottle of wine. I’m going to leave you to have a good night’s sleep.’
‘I’m sorry if I go on about my work too much. I want you to stay, Eddie.’
He put his arm around her as she stood up from the table.
‘And showing me those photographs was unprofessional, if not illegal, so I’ll have to arrest you,’ he said tilting her head back and kissing her. She responded instantly, and even more so when he lifted her up and carried her out of the kitchen. She almost fell and, laughing, they walked up the stairs together.
Jane woke up, disorientated, then found the warmth of his body beside her and snuggled closer. She could see from her bedside clock that it was a quarter past four. She tried to go back to sleep, but then began to think about what Eddie had said to her in the kitchen. She knew she needed to talk to Hadley first thing, and also to call Sussex police again.
Eddie murmured in his sleep and she slipped her arm around him.
‘Is it time to get up?’ he muttered.
‘No, not yet...’ she said softly.
He turned towards her as she continued in a half-whisper, ‘How about you and I go off together somewhere for a couple of days? I was thinking about a romantic trip to Brighton?’
‘Whatever you say,’ Eddie replied, tenderly. ‘I can get my MG out of storage for the weekend.’
Jane closed her eyes. Brighton... which just happened to be where Arnold Hadley lived.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Eddie left early to go back to his flat and change into his work clothes. He also did a clean-up of his van, taking out the bag of weed and the rollup papers and stashing them under a floorboard in his flat.
When Jane arrived at the station at a quarter past eight, she dealt with the paperwork on her desk and completed filing the report from Australia. She then placed a call to the Sussex police and asked to speak to a DS Simpson, explaining to him that she had spoken to Helena Lanark at her care home in Hove before she died.
‘There’s a pearl necklace that missing from Miss Lanark’s suite... I’m just calling for an update to see if you have any further information about that?’
‘I don’t I’m afraid, Detective Tennison. I did pay a visit, and I spoke to a couple of staff members, but nobody could give me any further details and Miss Thompson denied that any impropriety had occurred. She said it was quite possible that the deceased’s nephew had taken it.’
‘Well, Sergeant Simpson, a window was left open in Miss Lanark’s suite, and some of the drawers looked as if they had been opened and searched.’
Jane hesitated before continuing.
‘I think you should perhaps re-interview the staff. The pearl necklace is exceedingly valuable. It might be worth as much as £20,0000.’
Simpson whistled. ‘Jesus Christ! Nobody mentioned that to me. In that case, there has to be a formal crime report.’
‘I’ll let you know as soon as I have a confirmed value,’ Jane told him. ‘If you wish to contact me in the meantime, I am working out of Stockwell police station, and I’ll also give you my home number.’
Jane could sense the sergeant’s anxiety as she gave him her contact details, and he said he would definitely return to the care home to make further inquiries.
Jane replaced the receiver and took out her notebook to check for Arnold Hadley’s phone number. She had already noted that it was a Brighton dialling code and thought again about his close proximity to Helena Lanark’s care home.
The phone rang three times before he answered.
‘Mr Hadley, it’s Jane Tennison. I know we spoke yesterday, but I have a few more questions I wanted to ask you. It’s all a little sensitive so I’d prefer not to talk about it over the phone, but I am happy to come to Brighton.’