The girl nodded, embarrassed. ‘And then Ned had to go. He always had to go. He never stayed. And that made me feel miserable. It had started to rain outside and that made me feel even more miserable. I was going to sleep over with my friend in Clincham, but it was still going to be a nasty wet bike ride there. Anyway, Ned and I’d had this towel on the sofa . . .’
‘This sofa?’
‘Yes. And I wrapped the towel round me and sort of sat on the floor . . . and I was very miserable.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, I knew what I was doing with Ned wasn’t right. ’Cause I really loved him, but I knew for him it was just sex. So I cried a bit and I finished up the wine that was left in the bottle and . . . then I must’ve gone to sleep. Next thing I know there’s this woman here in the club room.’
‘What time would that have been?’
‘I don’t know. It was still dark outside. Anyway, she hadn’t seen me, because I was lying on the floor in front of the sofa and I sort of froze. And my only thought was that I must get out of the place as soon as I could.’
‘Which would have meant going up along the side of the court?’ asked Carole. ‘The way we came in?’
‘Not necessarily,’ said Tonya Grace. ‘The latch on that window over there’s loose. You can get out into the Lockleigh House gardens that way. But obviously I couldn’t move till the woman had gone. So I’m lying there, trying not to breathe – or not to make any noise breathing – and I can hear this woman and it sounds like she’s changing into a dress or something . . . not in the changing rooms, right here in the club room . . .
‘Then I hear a car approaching and, like, parking by the court, you know, where people park when they’re coming to play here. The woman must have heard it too, because – it’s really scary – because she starts giggling, and her giggles sound sort of, like, hysterical. And then she actually talks. I’m sure there’s nobody else there, but she says, like, to herself, “If he’s so desperate to see Agnes Wardock, then Agnes Wardock he will see.” And she giggles again, and it’s really horrible, like, you know, she’s really lost it, like she’s mad.’
‘Did she say anything else?’ asked Carole.
‘Yes. After she’s stopped giggling, she says, “It’s the idea of a mad woman, but I like mad women’s ideas”, which is like saying she was mad. And she giggles again.
‘Anyway, then the woman goes off into the court. And I thought maybe she was going outside, which would have meant if I waited a bit I could have got out the normal way, because going through the window you end up in a bed of shrubs which aren’t very nice if it’s been raining.
‘So I went and looked out at the court through the crack in the door. The only light was coming from the club room, so I couldn’t see much. And then I saw the beam of a torch coming from the main entrance. And whoever was holding the torch went on to the court, and he stood there, pointing the beam of his torch all around, up at the roof of the court at first. I couldn’t think why he was doing that.’
Carole and Jude knew why. Agnes Wardock had hanged herself from one of the high walkways up there.
‘Then he brought the torch beam down and ran it along the galleries, starting at the hazard end with the winning gallery. And just as the beam was getting close to the dedans, I saw the woman step forward there. She was wearing a white dress and she had this long blonde hair. And when the torch beam reached her, suddenly there was this horrible noise from the man who was holding it. A sort of gasping, which I keep hearing. I wake up in the night and I’ve been hearing it in a dream, and it’s horrible. Then there’s a thump as the man falls on the court and the torch goes flying away. And I hear the voice of the woman say, “Surprise, surprise!” And then she gets hysterical and I can’t tell whether she’s laughing or crying.’
‘So what did you do?’ asked Carole.
‘I got the hell out of the window in the club room as fast as I could. I grabbed my bike and rushed to the little gate out on to the road. But then, just as I was leaving, I looked back up at Lockleigh House. And there was a light at the window in the front, and there was an old man looking at me.’
Again Tonya Grace started to weep, big, ungainly tears pouring down her cheeks. ‘He saw me! He knew that I’d been there!’
THIRTY-THREE
Carole offered to take the traumatized girl back to Brighton, but Tonya said it was all right, she’d cycle to Clincham and get the train from there. The girl was embarrassed now at having spilled out so much emotion to two virtual strangers.
‘You say you mentioned what you’d seen on the court that night to Marina Gretchenko?’ said Carole.
‘Yes, but she wasn’t very interested. Busy with all those children, and I think Vladimir was there when I rang.’ The way she mentioned his name showed that she was aware of the domestic violence in the Gretchenko household.
‘Did you tell anyone else?’ asked Carole. ‘About what you saw on the court?’
‘No. Oh well, yes. Just one person.’
‘And who was that?’
‘There’s this lady who plays tennis here – or at least she used to – and she’s been very kind to me since I joined the club and—’
‘Felicity Budgen,’ Jude surmised.
‘Yes.’ Tonya was too emotionally drained to wonder how Jude knew that. ‘Anyway, I did tell her about what happened, you know, me being here that night.’
‘How did she react?’
‘Oh. Well. She’s a very kind woman, Felicity. She didn’t bawl me out about being with Ned. She said she’d never breathe a word to her husband about it . . . though she might talk to George Hazlitt and get him to have a quiet word with Ned.’
Maybe it was that ‘quiet word’ Jude had overheard in Oenone Playfair’s conservatory. ‘When did you have this conversation with Felicity, Tonya?’
‘Oh, just this afternoon, before I left to come over here.’
‘And did you tell her you were coming here?’
‘Yes.’
‘And,’ asked Carole, ‘did you tell her about everything you’d witnessed on the court that night?’
‘Yes, I did. Felicity’s the only person I can really talk to. My babushka’s always too busy looking after my grandfather and Marina’s caught up in her own problems. Felicity’s always been a good listener.’
Carole and Jude were both wondering how the chairman’s wife would have reacted to what she had listened to from Tonya that afternoon. That depended, really, on how much of it she already knew.
‘And you told Felicity about the man in the window at Lockleigh House?’
‘Yes, I did.’
Both Carole and Jude were kicking themselves for not having thought of Cecil Wardock earlier. Tom Ruthven had described him as ‘the eyes and ears of Lockleigh House’. Insomniac, sitting at his window rereading the books that he had published, he could easily have witnessed all the comings and goings through the little gate on the night in question. Cecil Wardock could well be the perfect witness. Why on earth hadn’t they thought to question him before?
‘Well, we’re on the spot,’ Carole concluded. ‘We must go and see him. No time like the present.’ She rose from the sofa, then looked down to see why Jude wasn’t doing the same.
‘What’s up?
‘There’s a call I have to make,’ said Jude miserably.
‘Ah.’ Carole knew who it would be to. ‘Shall I wait here for you?’
‘If you wouldn’t mind.’
The bit of the pros’ office with the computers and phones in it was locked, but there was a kind of anteroom whose door was always open. On its walls were lists of match results, members’ handicaps and so on. From wooden pegs hung hire rackets and others that the pros had just restrung or repaired. There was also a glass-fronted cabinet, displaying new rackets and a variety of kit items marked with the distinctive Lockleigh House tennis court insignia. Crossed rackets underneath a fish.