‘There’s influence and influence.’
‘And did she often ride roughshod over the rest of you?’
‘Harsh terms again, Inspector,’ but the man was resigned now to telling it as it was. ‘I’d say she had a certain presence on the Committee; over Rachel too, for she pretty much ran things where she was concerned. Stella was very much more than just a member of the Trust, more like a chairman of the board, with Rachel her manager.’
‘Thank you. I know these aren’t happy questions.’
‘I suppose you have to know; but make no mistake, Inspector: Stella was a force for good, don’t judge her just on this example.’
There was so much Grey needed to know that he wasn’t sure what to ask next,
‘Now you mentioned the girls she tutored, but did she have any other visitors: family, friends, people we need to let know?’
‘No, mostly just her students.’
‘No friends?’
‘We were her friends, we have a very close-knit social group.’
‘I can imagine. And she’d been a teacher, I believe? Any contact from those days?’
‘Not that I recall.’
‘And so,’ he asked again, ‘what about family?’
The man who’d seemed so helpful was going reticent, ‘I knew you’d ask me about that area, and I knew I wouldn’t know what to tell.’
‘Why?’
‘She never liked to talk of her life before Cedars.’
The man seemed to be holding himself together tightly as he said this.
‘Mr Waldron, you’ve trusted me so far; now trust me with this.’
The man stayed silent.
‘Then tell me only what you know of her story, like you did with Charlie’s, for us to sort out.’
But Derek Waldron had slipped into his own defensive mode, perhaps in guilt at what he’d already told,
‘Stella worked hard all her days, educated young minds, paid her own way — and how many can say that in these times? She lived among us happily for decades, was a member of the Trust, was active in the running of the Cedars, was loved and trusted by all she knew, by those she lived with and those who she tutored in the afternoons and whose careers she inestimably brightened. A faultless life, wouldn’t you say? And I for one was proud to know her.’
The picture now being painted was mere hagiography with none of the details Grey needed, interesting only in what it left out: no mention of a boy for the blue bear or of a man for the pocket watch. Listening to this, Grey realised he’d made a mistake talking to a friend of the victim so soon, and who despite initial appearances was clearly not handling his loss any better than those he was seeking to protect were handling theirs.
At the sound of the flat door opening Waldron gathered himself, as if knowing he would soon be saved,
‘Inspector. You began calling her Stella back there, not Ms Dunbar. I think she’d have wanted you to call her that, she did with her closest friends, and there’ll be none closer than you by the end.’
With Grey stunned by this utterance, the conversation had come to a natural pause as Rachel Sowton walked it, her self-control resumed and seemingly unperturbed at seeing the men sat around her living quarters.
‘Rachel, I’ve explained to the Inspector…’ began the still quaking Waldron, but she spoke across him,
‘Inspector, could we take the air? I need a cigarette.’
Chapter 4 — Rachel Sowton
‘So you came in to her room…’
‘And there she was before us, on the Chinese mat, just as you saw her.’
Taking the air in fact involved a walk to the shops, the Duty Manager having identified an item missing from the kitchen’s stores,
‘Some of the oldest residents are of a generation where fresh oranges are still a treat — can you believe that? If I’m honest I’m just glad to get away from that place for a while. Will we need to hurry back?’
Grey wasn’t sure they did, provided she kept answering his questions,
‘And then?’
‘And then I called you, or rather the emergency services.’
‘And nothing else? No reaction?’
‘From me?’
‘Why not.’
She smiled a weary smile, ‘I expect I’ve found half of those who’ve died there since taking on this job.’
‘And what of Ms Dunbar’s friend, this Mr Prove?’
‘Charlie is a very sensitive man, Inspector. I left him in the dayroom with the others, being comforted by friends.’
‘So, he did respond?’
‘Really quite dramatically, yes.’
‘But not yourself?’
‘I’ve told you, this is part of my role.’
‘What, finding bodies? Even we’re not used to that.’
‘You grow necessarily hard to it. People come to the Cedars for comfort and safety when they may be old and frail and nearing their end. You see a person every day full of life and light, but know that they could go at any time, and that it may be you to find them.’
‘And finding Ms Dunbar was no different?’
The Duty Manager paused on the pavement, ‘Stella Dunbar was as fine a woman, as fine a person as I have known. I doubt if there’s another left in the world I trust as much as I did her. Now if you have any more-practical questions..?’
Practical was good, practical was exactly what he needed. As they got going again, he asked,
‘So have you already contacted next of kin? You know we’ll need to talk to them.’
‘I would have done that as soon as I’d called you, but in this case it hasn’t been so easy.’
‘Go on.’
Fears of a stonewalling similar to Derek Waldron’s on the issue were unfounded, as she offered copious information albeit none of it what he needed,
‘Of course we keep a register of next of kin, updated twice a year, given the situation with some resident’s frailty as I’ve described; but Stella always left her space blank.’
‘So she had no family?’
‘It wasn’t even just that… it was as if in leaving the space empty she was denying even the question of family, not even admitting if she did or didn’t have any. She was telling us we had no right to ask.’
‘Do many others choose to do this?’
‘Asking them to fill in the register isn’t an act of choice more than one of compulsion, an unwritten rule of their agreement.’
‘So what of Mrs Cuthbert? You had trouble contacting her relatives.’
‘Ah, now she did had a relative in the register, only one who couldn’t be bothered to ever reply to the letters we sent them.’
‘They might have moved away?’
‘The might have, or might not have.’
‘You don’t seem shocked.’
‘The Trust have paid for funerals before.’
‘So Ms Dunbar was unique in this not answering?’
‘Yes and no: obviously some don’t have family, have no name to put down if they wanted to, but then that is an act of sadness which I note and then don’t ask of again.’
‘But when Ms Dunbar didn’t fill the register in, it wasn’t this same sadness you felt?’
‘No, more a seriousness, a considered refusal to answer; which if it was simply that she had no relations, then why not say?’
‘So, residents without relations, what happens to their flats after..?’
‘We have the residents make wills with Mrs Rossiter, or at least inform her where theirs are lodged if they have their own solicitor.’
‘So you have somewhere to send the proceeds of the Cuthbert flat?’
‘Yes. I wonder if her relatives will respond more positively to a cheque?’
Grey smiled at this, while again impressed at how tightly the Trust had these matters tied up; but he hadn’t time to linger on the thought as, unlike with Derek Waldron, Rachel Sowton’s answers were coming thick and fast,
‘Stella always said to me at register time, “Rachel, if you love me do this for me and let me leave it blank — If I fall ill I’ll settle my own medical bills, if I die then sell my flat and put the money to the extensions.”’
‘Extensions?’
‘We had plans to expand, to build four new flats where those old garages are — no one uses them hardly now — and then there’s the age-old issue of fitting a lift, though it’s so difficult in an old building like this… Anyway, I think these promises for the future were Stella’s way of making up for, well, of course you wouldn’t know…’