‘Should they be? You probably know more than I do. You were actually at Shefford’s when it happened. Anyone else you’d put in the frame?’
‘Well … Don’t let this go any further …’ Even as she said the words, she knew it was a pretty stupid thing to say in Fethering. But that didn’t stop her continuing. ‘Billy’s wife Shannon is very protective of him. She’d have the same motives as he would, I suppose, protecting their inheritance. And the garage had been the centre of his life right through their marriage, so she might have been round there enough to have picked up some mechanical knowledge.’
‘Possible,’ said Adrian.
‘Then again, Frankie – you know, in the office at Shefford’s – she must have absorbed quite a lot of mechanical knowhow over the years she’s been there.’
‘Mm.’
‘And Jude sort of wondered whether Frankie might have been holding a candle for Bill for some years and had her nose put out of joint when he married someone else.’
‘Does she have any proof for that?’
‘No. But Jude’s a pretty shrewd judge of people.’ Carole wondered why she was praising her neighbour to Adrian. And then again, why it should worry her that she was praising her neighbour to Adrian?
‘So …’ he asked, ‘is that it? Or are there any other suspects?’
Carole was about to mention Tom Kendrick, the fact that he was the owner of the Triumph Tr6 and the fact that there had been bad blood between him and Bill Shefford.
But, for some reason, she didn’t.
When, later that day, Carole went through the potential suspects with Jude, she didn’t mention that it was the second time she had done the exercise. A slight element of mystery about her relationship with Adrian Greenford still seemed appropriate. This time she did, however, add Tom Kendrick’s name to the list.
‘Yes,’ said Jude thoughtfully. ‘I must somehow arrange to talk to him again.’
‘What – so you’ve changed your mind about his condition, have you? Think he does need healing, after all?’
‘No.’ Jude sounded almost testy. ‘I wouldn’t do that.’ She hadn’t the energy to go through the arguments again with Carole about her attitudes to healing. ‘I’ll find a way to contact him. And I’d better do it before the weekend.’
‘Oh?’
‘I’m going up to Leeds on Friday morning.’
Carole would rather have pretended not to be interested, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking, ‘What for?’
‘A conference.’
‘And what’s it called?’ asked Carole with exaggerated patience.
‘“Healing Is in the Head”,’ Jude admitted.
No words could have been as expressive as Carole’s snort of derision. It was exactly the reaction Jude had imagined when she mentioned the conference to Jeremiah. Then, from Carole, ‘You’re not speaking at it, are you?’
‘No. A couple of my friends are.’
‘Oh?’
‘Karen and Chrissie. Their subject is: “Healing in the LGBT Community”.’
‘Oh, my goodness. Does that mean they’re …?’
‘A lesbian couple, yes.’
‘Oh.’
Jude giggled. ‘Just like a lot of people in Fethering think we are.’
Carole’s face was a study in unamusement.
THIRTEEN
‘He’s upstairs. I’ll get him.’
As the line went quiet, Jude wondered whether Natalie Kendrick always answered the phone when it rang in Troubadours. Was she acting as some kind of gatekeeper for Tom? Then she rationalized that he probably had a mobile on which he conducted all his personal calls. But she was still intrigued by who held the power in that particular mother/son relationship.
She hadn’t completely prepared the approach she would take when he came on the phone. She certainly wouldn’t pretend her call had anything to do with healing, as Carole had suggested. When it came to her work, Jude had a strict code of ethics. Healing was not to be messed with.
‘Hi,’ Tom said languorously. ‘Changed your mind, have you? Think you can heal my non-existent ailment?’
‘No.’ She decided, as she often did, that the truth might be as good an approach as any other. ‘I wanted to talk to you about what happened with your car.’
‘Ah. The Triumph Tr6. Or, as it is better known currently around Fethering, “The Murder Weapon”.’
‘That’s the one.’
‘And why do you want to talk to me about it? Presumably because of that? Because of its role in Bill Shefford’s death?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, at least you’re honest.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean lots of the Fethering gossips are muttering behind their hands about me. At least you’re coming straight out and saying that you think I had something to do with topping the poor bugger.’
‘I’m not saying that.’
‘No? Then why do you want to talk to me about it?’
‘Straightforward curiosity. A desire to find out what actually happened.’
‘Honest again. But give me one good reason why I should talk to you?’
Jude was thrown by the question and improvised madly. ‘Erm, because you are getting sick of … as you say, “lots of the Fethering gossips muttering behind their hands” about you. Because, if we found out what actually did happen that morning at the garage, they’d all get off your back.’
‘Hm. Yes, I do share your curiosity about that. Incidentally, were you the one who was in Shefford’s when it happened?’
‘No.’
‘Oh, it must’ve been your partner then. People always talk about you two together.’
Jude grinned inwardly, remembering their recent conversation. ‘It was Carole Seddon, my neighbour.’
‘Right. So, she might actually have some hard facts to contribute to the discussion?’
‘I’m sure she will have.’
‘OK then. I don’t mind seeing the two of you together.’
‘Good.’ Jude was delighted. And she knew Carole would be too. ‘Where do you want to meet? We’d be happy to come to your place.’
‘No.’
‘The Crown and Anchor?’
‘God, no. That’d be like poking a stick straight into the gossips’ wasps’ nest. No, we need to meet somewhere more private.’
Tom Kendrick’s idea of ‘somewhere more private’ was a pub in The Lanes in Brighton. Carole complained about this, because parking in the city was always difficult. But when they got there, the setting was so markedly different from anything in Fethering that they understood his logic.
One of the big differences was the average age of the clientele. Though in the tourist season the Crown and Anchor would see a good few holidaymaking families, in the winter it was mostly locals, which meant retired people. Brighton had a much younger demographic. In the pub were thin young men challenging the weather in skimpy T-shirts, young women in clashing clothes and hair colours that extended the range of nature’s palette. And nobody seemed to be untattooed.
The pub was full for early afternoon, but the clientele didn’t seem to be just relaxing. There was an air of busyness. Laptops and tablets were much in evidence. Their loud chatter and wild gesticulations had an earnestness about them. They seemed to be discussing work projects, almost definitely arts-related.
The place wasn’t ‘private’ in the sense of ‘empty’ or ‘quiet’, but the very noisiness provided its own security. Everyone there was far too interested in their own conversations to bother eavesdropping on anyone else’s. Events in Fethering felt a very long way away.
The venue made Carole acutely uncomfortable. She was sure everyone was looking at her, though in fact nobody bothered. Jude, never much concerned what other people thought of her, was completely at her ease as she pressed her way through the crowd to greet Tom.