He was already piling papers away into a drawer, stuffing his thermos flask into his briefcase.
“Well,” he said. “If you’re sure… ” And he was gone before she could change her mind.
There was no reply when Vera rang the doorbell of the Priory. House martins flew into a nest under the eaves. Clouds of insects hung in the still air. Vera wandered round to the garden at the back of the house and found Anne, standing out against a border of shrubs and plants with deep red blooms. She was edging the lawn, pushing the half moon of steel into the ground with a heavy boot, slicing away the untidy turf. She was dressed in jeans and a sleeveless vest and Vera thought she was wearing well. She didn’t hear Vera until the inspector was halfway across the grass and then she turned, startled. In that first unguarded moment Vera thought she was expecting someone else. Or perhaps hoping for someone else, because she seemed not only surprised but momentarily disappointed.
“There was no need to come out all this way,” Anne said. “It’s not urgent. I just phoned to make an appointment. I’d have come into Kimmerston.” She seemed flustered and Vera thought she hadn’t sorted out yet exactly what she wanted to say. She hadn’t got her story straight.
“It’s no problem.” Vera looked admiringly round the garden. “There’s some work gone into this, mind. It’s like something out of a Sunday paper.”
“I love it. I’d really miss it if I had to leave.”
“Is that on the cards?”
Anne straightened up. “I don’t know. The time at Baikie’s was to give me a chance to sort out what I wanted. I don’t seem any closer to making a decision.”
“What about your husband?”
“Jeremy? I haven’t talked to him. He’s got problems of his own. His business isn’t doing brilliantly. Besides, I can never really take him seriously.”
“I always find it’s dangerous,” Vera said, ‘ underestimate anyone to that extent.”
“Do you?” Anne gave an awkward little laugh. “What a peculiar thing to say. Jeremy wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s not in this evening. Some meeting with a business contact in Newcastle. Someone who’s going to make him a fortune. Apparently. Jem’s always optimistic.”
“I’d like to have met him,” Vera said easily. “But I suppose now we can chat in peace. Over a beer perhaps. If you’ve got any beer in the fridge. After the day I’ve had I could do with a drink.”
They sat in the kitchen with the back door open so they could hear the last of the birdsong outside. At the end of the garden the hill rose steeply. Its shadow edged towards them.
“Well?” Vera demanded. “What can I do for you?” She was pouring lager carefully into a straight pint glass. “Have you remembered anything about finding Edmund?”
“No. It’s nothing like that. I’m not sure that I should say… “
“I could have had a beer in my own house. And I’ve not come all this way to look at the scenery. So spit it out.
It’s not your place to decide what’s important. You can leave that to me.”
“I wondered if you’ve talked to Barbara Waugh.”
“Who’s she when she’s at home?”
“Wife of Godfrey, the quarry boss. And a partner in the business, I think.”
“I talked to him briefly after Grace was killed to try to get a handle on that Environmental Impact report. I’ve had no cause to speak to the wife. Is she a friend of yours?”
“Not exactly. I met her first more than a year ago. Slateburn Quarries had put some money into a Northumberland Wildlife Trust reserve and the Waughs were there for the opening. She came up to me and started talking about the Black Law development. She must have heard that I opposed it. I was expecting an earful but she was very generous. She even invited me to her home for lunch.”
“What was all that about? Was she nobbling the opposition?”
“No. She wasn’t very happy about the quarry either. She felt the company was being bumped into it.” Anne paused. “She made allegations, all of them unspecific, about Neville Furness. That he was a ruthless businessman. That he had more influence on her husband than she thought was healthy. She even implied some sort of blackmail.
She said that was why Godfrey was so single-minded about the Black Law development. If it was left to her she’d favour a more flexible approach.”
“She didn’t say what grounds Neville might have had for blackmail?”
Anne turned away, stared out into the garden. “No. It was all very vague.”
“Did you believe her?”
“I wasn’t sure. Not then. But what reason would she have to lie?”
“Have you seen her since?”
“Just before the party at Holme Park. She’d phoned here several times the week before and left messages with Jeremy. I went to have tea. The daughter was there. Perhaps that’s why she didn’t talk but I think something had happened. There’d been some threat. She seemed terrified but she wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.”
“Do you think her husband beats her up?”
“No!”
The answer, instant and vehement, surprised Vera. “It does happen,” she said mildly. “Even in the best of families.”
“I don’t think that’s what frightened her. I wondered if it had anything to do with Neville Furness. And now he seems to be taking an interest in Rachael… “
“You think I should find out what’s at the bottom of it. Did you mention any of this to Rachael?”
“I tried to warn her but she’s besotted.”
“Has she seen him again?”
“I think so. She phoned last night to see how I was and I thought I could hear his voice in the background.”
“Don’t worry.” Vera drained her glass and set it regretfully on the table. “Edie won’t let her do anything silly.”
“Edie won’t be able to stop her if she sets her mind to it.”
“I’ll have a word. Find out what’s going on.”
“Will you talk to Barbara Waugh?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Something was scaring her. She wouldn’t tell me. She might talk to you. But don’t let on I sent you.”
“So I just drop in, do I, to have a friendly chat and a cup of tea as I’m passing?” “I told you. She’s a partner in the business. Isn’t that excuse enough?”
“Maybe.”
Vera sensed that Anne wanted rid of her but she was reluctant to go.
There’s something you’re not telling me, lady, she thought. But what is it? She sat, waited.
“I thought I might go back to college,” Anne said suddenly. “Try for a degree in environmental science. Get a real job so I can pay my own way.” Is that all it was, Vera thought. You didn’t want to admit to academic pretensions. But she wasn’t convinced. “Why not?” she said out loud.
“You might find yourself a toy boy It was a flip remark because she could think of nothing better but Anne seemed embarrassed.
“Or have you already found one?”
“No,” Anne said. “Of course not.”
“I’d better go then. Thanks for the beer.”
Anne showed her out through the house to the main door. In the hall there was a picture of Jeremy at a do, flamboyant in a silk bow tie.
At the door Vera hesitated. “Do you ever go into that coffee shop in the precinct?”
This time she was sure Anne flushed. “Occasionally. Why?”
“Bella Furness used to go in every Wednesday. At lunchtime. Did you ever meet her?”
“No. I’m sure I didn’t.”
So who did you meet, Vera thought. Edmund Fulwell or someone altogether different?
At home she drank whisky because there was no beer, phoned Edie to make an appointment to see her the following day, watched an Orson Welles movie on the television and fell asleep before the Aberdeen sleeper rumbled past. As she drifted off she thought of Neville Furness.