‘Quite possible.’ Then Jude said, ‘Incidentally, if you’d like me to take a look at that knee of yours, I—’
‘It’s on the mend, thank you,’ said Carole crisply. To punish her for the lie, she felt a painful twinge from the knee as she changed gear.
Jude didn’t say anything else on the way back to Fethering. Her mind was buzzing. She now felt sure she knew what crime had been committed. But she couldn’t for the life of her work out how to prove it.
Talking again to Red was a starting point. He sounded very guarded as he answered his mobile. Jude didn’t think he received many calls. But he relaxed when he heard who it was.
‘Couple of things I should have asked you when we met …’
‘About Bill?’
‘Yes.’
‘Go ahead then.’
‘You said you weren’t surprised to hear that he was dead. And I assumed at the time you meant you thought he’d committed suicide.’
‘That’s what I did think. That’s what I still think.’
‘And you think he did it because of the cancer diagnosis?’
‘Yes. He said he wasn’t getting better, the treatment was costing a lot of money, and he wanted it to look like an accident for Malee’s sake.’
‘So she didn’t think she had driven him to suicide?’
‘No, no, for money reasons. He had a life insurance policy. There was something in that meant she wouldn’t get anything if he topped himself.’
‘I see. You knew Bill a long time. Had you ever known him have problems with his digestion?’
There was a cackle of laughter from the other end. ‘All the bloody time. Always got some kind of gut-rot, old Bill.’
‘And did you ever hear him say he thought it might be cancer?’
‘No. It was his diet. He ate badly. His own fault. Never could resist anything deep-fried.’
‘Do you know if he ever went to the doctor about it?’
‘Never mentioned it to me. We didn’t talk about stuff like that. Certainly never went to Fethering Surgery with it, though his daughter-in-law Shannon kept whingeing on at him.’
‘Do you know if he ever took her advice, consulted someone she recommended?’
‘Not while I was in touch with him, no.’
‘In the autumn?’
‘Wasn’t talking then, were we?’
‘Of course not. But he must’ve changed his mind, mustn’t he?’
‘How d’ya mean?’
‘You said last time you saw him, when he came to say goodbye, he told you the treatment wasn’t working.’
‘Yes.’
‘So that means he was actually having treatment.’
‘Yes. But not proper treatment.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘He wasn’t on the NHS. He was just seeing some bloody healer.’
Jude curbed what would have been her normal response to that. In this case, she thought Red’s response was justified.
TWENTY-FIVE
Carole produced a cheese salad lunch at High Tor. Jude had some but was totally unaware of what she was eating. Her mind was too caught up with fury and confusion.
Carole had very rarely seen her neighbour angry and knew better than to interrupt her thought processes. She almost tiptoed round the kitchen as she made coffee for them.
Suddenly, Jude announced that she was going next door to bring back the diary. ‘There’s got to be something in there we’ve missed! And it’s still really the only physical proof we’ve got.’ As she shot through the hall, she said, ‘Bring down your laptop. We’ll need it.’
Carole thought it wasn’t the moment to say that she normally only used the laptop upstairs in the spare room. She didn’t want to sound petty.
Jude didn’t taste the coffee either, as they once again scrutinized the scribbled entries. After about a quarter of an hour, Carole pleaded, ‘At least tell me what you’re looking for.’
‘If I knew what I was looking for, I’d have found it by now.’
‘Could you give me a clue perhaps?’
‘A clue is certainly what we need. Look, all right, Carole, I’ll tell you what I’m looking for. If our thinking so far is right, the five-hundred-pound payments Bill Shefford was making from his secret bank account were for therapy sessions. But what about the bigger payments, the ones in their thousands?’
‘We don’t know. And have no means of knowing.’
‘I think I do know. I think it’s for dietary supplements. I was just wondering … Bill made a note of everything in here, everything he needed to remember, business and personal. I was thinking there might be a clue in one of the web addresses he wrote down. That’s why I asked you to get the laptop.’
‘You said you’d been through them … and they were all people who either sell cars or car parts.’
‘Yes, but I didn’t check them all. As soon as I’d found the reference to the bait for Bill’s fishing trip with Red, I stopped looking. So, look, if I call out the web addresses, you google them and we’ll see if we get anywhere.’
Carole’s expression told what she thought of the idea, but she didn’t like to argue with Jude in this unprecedented manic mood. Carole did as she was told.
The first six unchecked web addresses were like the others. Car dealers. Car auctions. Car parts. But with the seventh, they hit gold dust.
And at that point Jude’s plan of action became crystal clear. She told Carole exactly what they would do.
Or rather what she, Jude would do. The case now seemed to have become a personal vendetta, sidelining her neighbour completely. But again, Carole did not like to argue.
‘I think we need to meet,’ said Jude.
‘Sure.’ He’d answered on the third ring. ‘Does this mean you’ve rethought your reaction to my therapy centre idea?’
His voice was still deep and intimate. Consoling, seductive. Jude wondered why she’d ever been fooled by it. Wondered why she had ever found it – or indeed him – attractive.
‘Yes, I have thought more about it,’ she replied coolly. ‘And I really wonder whether the area needs a place like that when we’ve got the Magic of Therapy Centre so close by.’
‘I see.’ His tone of voice changed instantly. The charm was still there but there was a harder edge. ‘What’s this about, Jude?’
‘I went to Smalting this morning. To the Magic of Therapy Centre.’
‘Oh?’
‘Saw your friend … colleague …? Dr Rawley.’
‘Ah.’
‘He diagnosed me with breast cancer.’ There was no response. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t heard from him yet. Because I assume you will be involved. In my treatment. At … what? Five hundred pounds a session?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I think you know what I’m talking about, Jeremiah. Bill Shefford. Do you deny that you treated Bill Shefford?’
‘Of course I don’t deny it.’
‘You never mentioned it in our conversations.’
‘And do you know why? Bill particularly didn’t want anyone to know he was ill. And if he had wanted people to know about it, there’s no way I would have told you.’
‘Why not?’
‘Oh, come on, Jude. You, of all people, should know the answer to that. A fellow healer? You know about client confidentiality.’
That stung. But Jude riposted quickly. ‘Did you know that Bill Shefford kept a diary?’
‘You’re making that up. He wasn’t the kind to keep a diary.’
‘Well, he did, and I have it. Dates of all your sessions.’ That bit was true. ‘And detailed descriptions of what went on at those sessions, how he felt after those sessions, chronicles of his every mood swing.’ That bit wasn’t true.