In cold blood, p.21
In Cold Blood, page 21
‘When did you find out that your uncle was going to see Celia and tell her about the funeral arrangements?’ Isabel asked.
‘He told me he planned to visit her, but I didn’t know he was going to invite her to the funeral. That certainly wasn’t the main purpose of his visit.’
‘So, what was?’
‘Uncle Jim had delivered on the first part of his promise when he told me the truth about my biological father. My mother had also asked him to try and find out where Celia lived. God knows how he managed to track her down, but he did. As you will have seen in her letter to me, my mother wanted Jim to let Celia know about me.’
‘Did you consider going with him? To see Celia for yourself?’
Had she been in Eric Mundy’s shoes, Isabel didn’t think she could have passed up such an alluring opportunity. Then again, given the way she was dithering over whether to re-engage with her own father, perhaps that’s exactly what she would have done.
Eric Mundy shook his head dismissively. ‘Not at that stage, although Uncle Jim did ask whether I’d be interested in meeting her eventually … if she was willing. I told him that if she wanted to see me, it was fine as far as I was concerned, but I needed to get the funeral out of the way first. That was all I could think about.’
‘Did Jim tell you where Celia was living?’ said Isabel.
‘No. I did ask him to give me her address, but he refused. He said he wanted to speak to her first … that she should be the one to decide whether to let me know where she lived. I think he was trying to protect her privacy.’
‘And you say you didn’t see Celia Aspen at the funeral?’
‘No. I never did get to meet her.’
‘What about you, Mrs Statham?’ Isabel turned to Eric Mundy’s daughter, who was standing behind her father’s chair listening intently. ‘Did you spot Celia Aspen at the funeral?’
‘I’m afraid I didn’t,’ she said. ‘I knew nothing about Celia. Besides, I was only twelve when my grandmother died, and hers was the first funeral I’d attended. I found the whole thing rather overwhelming.’
‘Celia was a stranger to us, Detective,’ Eric Mundy said. ‘There were a lot of people at the service that we didn’t know … anonymous friends of my mother’s … all of them dressed in black.’
‘So what happened after the funeral was over?’
‘Uncle Jim told me that he’d given Celia my phone number and address and he was hopeful she’d be in touch to arrange a visit.’
‘But she didn’t contact you?’
‘No, and Uncle Jim wasn’t happy about it. Before he left for Canada, he went round to Celia’s house again to talk to her one last time. He told me he knocked but there was no answer. She must have been out, he said, or she’d seen him and had refused to come to the door.’
‘Can you remember when your uncle made that last visit? What date?’ said Dan.
Eric Mundy scratched his beard. ‘Not precisely, but what I can tell you is that Jim stayed on for a few weeks after the funeral, to help me through my grief and give me a hand sorting through Mum’s belongings. I believe he flew back towards the middle of May. The 15th, maybe. Or the 16th.’
‘And he visited Celia for the second time the day before that?’
‘A couple of days before, I’d say.’
‘And he suspected that Celia was avoiding him?’ Dan was scribbling in his notebook. ‘I’d imagine your uncle would have been angry about that.’
Eric Mundy glowered. ‘Not at all, and I’m sorry if I’ve given that impression. He certainly wasn’t angry. Sad would be a better way to describe his mood. Melancholic. Uncle Jim and Cecil were boyhood friends. They shared a bond of affection and loyalty that stretched back years. They were like family, and family meant everything to Uncle Jim. I’m sure he felt let down by Celia’s reluctance to visit me. He was disappointed, yes, but most definitely not angry.’
‘Sometimes, if it’s intense enough, a sense of disappointment can be enough to make someone lose their temper,’ Dan persisted. ‘Do you think that could have happened with Jim and Celia?’
Eric Mundy straightened his spine, as if to get up, but settled back down when his daughter placed a soothing hand on his shoulder.
‘What you’re really asking is, do I think my uncle killed Celia in a fit of rage? Am I right?’
Dan tapped his pencil against the open page of his notebook. ‘Do you think he did?’
‘No, Detective, my uncle wasn’t like that. I don’t remember him losing his temper with anyone. Ever. Even when he did feel angry about something, he never reacted physically.’
Gillian backed him up. ‘Dad’s right,’ she said. ‘Uncle Jim was a lovely man. Kind. He didn’t have a violent bone in his body. He worked in a national park in British Columbia as a conservationist. His instinct was to preserve and protect life, not endanger it.’
Father and daughter’s defence of their long-dead relative was commendable, but Isabel knew from experience that even the gentlest of people could sometimes be drawn unwittingly into situations that had devastating consequences.
‘What about you?’ Dan said, risking Eric Mundy’s wrath once more. ‘Did you feel let down?’
Eric Mundy uncrossed his legs and placed his feet squarely in front of him. Dan’s line of questioning had clearly rattled him, but he was doing his best not to show his annoyance.
‘I felt let down, yes. I did my best to give Celia the benefit of the doubt … I waited patiently … hoping she’d get in touch. I’ll admit that the longer it went on, the more intrigued I became about her. She was my parent and I was disappointed, infuriated even, when I didn’t hear from her. I assumed she’d decided not to get in touch, and I had no choice but to accept that decision.’
Isabel felt a rush of sympathy for Eric Mundy. She knew only too well what it was like to wait in vain for word from a missing parent.
‘If it’s any consolation,’ she said, ‘Celia may have had every intention of getting in touch with you. I suspect her death was the thing that stopped her from doing that.’
Eric Mundy smiled half-heartedly and a faraway look came into his eyes.
‘I take it you didn’t know that Celia Aspen had disappeared?’ asked Dan. ‘You didn’t hear about it at the time?’
‘No. I didn’t see anything about it on television, and I’ve never been one for reading newspapers. Obviously if I’d heard she’d gone missing, I would have spoken to the police.’
Isabel drained the cup of tea provided by Gillian Statham. It was weak, milky and had gone cold.
‘The thing is, Mr Mundy, at the time of her disappearance, it was believed that Celia Aspen had only one living relative – her niece. If the police had known you existed, they would have contacted you. As it was, the niece was the sole beneficiary in Celia Aspen’s will – although she had to wait until your aunt was declared dead before she could inherit.’
‘That seems rather unfair,’ Gillian said. ‘If Dad had known, he might have considered challenging the will.’
Eric Mundy raised his right hand to silence his daughter. ‘No, Gillian, I wouldn’t. I didn’t know Celia Aspen. I never met her. I didn’t even know where she lived. I would never have expected to inherit anything.’
‘Nevertheless, you were her closest relative,’ Isabel said. ‘So we’ll make sure we keep you informed about when the remains can be released. There will have to be a funeral.’
Gillian Statham folded her arms. ‘You’re surely not suggesting Dad will have to arrange and pay for a funeral service? Shouldn’t the niece sort that out? Dad got nothing from Celia Aspen during her life, or after it. Why should he have to foot the bill?’
‘Hush, Gillian,’ Eric Mundy said. ‘I may not have received anything from Celia, but Cecil Aspen gave me something very precious … he gave me life. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him – and neither would you. I think paying for Celia’s funeral is the least I can do. It’s not as if I can’t afford it.’
Chapter 41
‘So, are we adding them to our list of suspects?’ Dan said, as they drove back to Bainbridge.
‘We have a list?’ Isabel lifted an eyebrow.
‘Well, technically, we don’t have a list right now, but I’m sure we can put one together when we get back to the office. I know you won’t agree, but I think Timothy Littlewood’s name should go at the top, along with Joyce Littlewood … and now Eric Mundy.’
‘Why not go the whole hog and add Gillian Statham’s name?’
Dan smiled. ‘Much as I’d like to, she was only twelve in 1986. I think we can rule her out.’
‘I take it you didn’t warm to her?’
He pulled a face. ‘I thought she was a cold fish, and the sort of woman who looks down her nose at coppers.’
‘That’s harsh,’ said Isabel. ‘I agree she seemed out of sorts, but that may have been because we were questioning her father. He’s a pensioner. She was being protective of him, that’s all.’
‘I’m sure Eric Mundy can look after himself. I have to confess he seemed like a decent bloke. He sounded genuinely cut up when he was talking about Celia Aspen not getting in touch. That says a lot about his character.’
‘You’re right, it does. It says that he’s either got a big heart, or he’s a good actor. The jury’s out on that one, as far as I’m concerned.’
When they got to the A52, Isabel put her foot down, nudging the car to eighty-five miles an hour. She was keen to get back to the office to update the team and work out how this latest piece of information slotted into the bigger picture.
‘Interesting that no one noticed Celia Aspen at the funeral,’ Dan said.
‘It’s understandable, but Jim would have been on the lookout … seeing if she’d turned up. Mind you, she might not have been easy to spot. If there were a lot of people at the service, Celia would have blended in with the other black-clad mourners.’
‘I guess so,’ Dan said. ‘Wouldn’t be so easy nowadays. Nobody wears black for funerals anymore.’
‘You’re absolutely right,’ Isabel said, as she overtook a tatty looking camper van that, despite its clapped-out appearance, was doing a steady seventy. ‘When did all that change? At one time it was considered disrespectful if you didn’t wear dark colours at a funeral. Nobody gives a damn these days. That’s something else to add to the list of things that have disappeared from British society.’
‘We have a list?’ Dan quipped.
Isabel laughed. ‘Well, I have a list.’
‘Really? Go on then, boss. What else is on it?’
‘Do you genuinely want to know, or are you just taking the piss?’
‘No. Truly. I’m interested. Although maybe not the whole list …’
Isabel smiled. ‘I’ll give you the top three.’ She pointed to the car’s dashboard. ‘Number one … CD players in cars.’
‘Who has CDs these days? They’re ancient history.’
She chortled. ‘Oh, Dan. You do make me feel old. I remember having cassette tapes in my first car. People used to break into cars purely to steal the radio.’
‘What’s number two?’
‘Sticking with the car theme …’ She pointed upwards. ‘Sunroofs.’
‘Why the hell would anyone need a sunroof? Most cars have air-conditioning, don’t they?’
‘Most modern cars do – but back in the day, a sunroof was considered the height of luxury. You were someone if you had a sunroof.’
‘Sad times,’ Dan said, scratching the side of his face and looking at her with amused eyes.
‘Number three is milk deliveries,’ Isabel said. ‘Everybody, and I mean everybody, had their milk delivered to their doorstep every morning, rain or shine … and in glass bottles. The sound of an electric milk float whirring by was like a back-up alarm clock. And that’s something else for the list. Alarm clocks. Nobody uses them now.’
‘Again, why would you need to when you can use your phone?’
‘That’s what I mean.’ She lifted her left hand and waved it around to emphasise her point. ‘Technology has changed so many things. Don’t get me wrong, I’m the first to embrace new technology, especially if it helps us do our job, but it still fascinates me how the everyday things we once took for granted are silently disappearing … without any fanfare or grieving.’
‘Get with it, boss.’ He gave a broad smile. ‘You have to let them go. Move on.’
They were on the outskirts of Derby and, inevitably, the traffic was slowing as they approached the Pentagon Island and filtered through the city’s bottleneck.
‘You’re right. Let’s forget my list of disappearing things and go back to your list of suspects. Is dear old Uncle Jim on the list? Should he be? Do you think he’s too good to be true?’
‘No, surprisingly, I don’t. Until he can be eliminated, I think it’s right that we put his name on the list, but Gillian Statham did give a very convincing argument as to why he isn’t our man.’
‘I’m not so sure. I agree that Jim sounds like a great guy, but he was very close to his sister and, in his younger days, to Cecil. A close bond like that, once betrayed, can engender a lot of bitterness.’
‘We’ll have to agree to disagree on that,’ Dan said. ‘Still, like I say, we’ll put him on the list.’
‘There’s someone else I’ve been wondering about.’
‘Who?’
‘Julie Desmond. What we’ve learned today gives her a very strong motive for killing her aunt. Think about it … Celia found out she had a biological son … what’s to say she wasn’t planning on changing her will in his favour? The gambling habits of Julie’s stepfather had already caused her to lose out on one potential inheritance. She wouldn’t have been too thrilled at the prospect of being usurped by Eric Mundy.’
‘True, and I’d tend to agree with you, except for two crucial details. Firstly, we have no evidence that Julie knew anything about Eric. Secondly – and more importantly – she was in Australia when her aunt went missing. She had a watertight alibi.’
Isabel tapped the steering wheel. ‘Bearing in mind what we’ve just learned, I think it’s time to take another look at that alibi. It may not be as watertight as Julie Desmond would have us think.’
Chapter 42
‘This puts a whole new spin on things,’ Lucas said, when Isabel had finished briefing the DCs about what she and Dan had learned from Eric Mundy.
‘It certainly gives us a couple of extra suspects,’ she said. ‘At least in theory.’
‘Does it though?’ Zoe said. ‘Why would Jim want to kill Celia? You’ve told us he was trying to bring about a reconciliation between her and Eric.’
‘Well, strictly speaking, it wouldn’t have been a reconciliation,’ said Isabel. ‘That suggests he was trying to get them back together … like a reunion. The reality is, Celia and Eric never met.’
‘OK, let’s call Jim Whetton a go-between then,’ Zoe persisted. ‘An intermediary. It sounds like he was very fond of his sister and nephew … and, once upon a time, he’d cared about Celia too – or at least about his friend, Cecil. His aim was to bring about a meeting between Eric and his long-lost parent. Harming Celia would have put the kibosh on that.’
‘What about Eric Mundy?’ said Lucas ‘Would he have had reason to kill Celia?’
‘I don’t think he’s our man,’ Dan replied. ‘He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who could kill in cold blood. Besides, he didn’t even know where Celia lived – although, admittedly, we’ve only got his word on that.’
‘What if either Jim or Eric killed Celia accidentally?’ Lucas said. ‘In those circumstances they might have enlisted the other’s help to dispose of the body. Two people would have made the job a lot easier and quicker.’
‘You seem stuck on the idea this was accidental, Lucas,’ said Dan.
‘Well, that doesn’t quite work for me,’ said Isabel. ‘At a push, I’ll accept that one or other of them might have killed Celia in a fit of rage or even accidentally, but I don’t buy the idea of them working together to dispose of the body.’
‘If you ask me, the working-together scenario fits much better with Timothy and Joyce Littlewood,’ Dan said.
‘Again, I’m struggling to imagine either of them as the perpetrator.’ Isabel cleared her throat. ‘Neither has a motive for murder, at least not one that we know of. Having said that, I don’t suppose we can rule out an accidental killing.’
‘Of the two of them, Timothy is the most obvious suspect,’ Dan said. ‘If he killed Celia – accidentally or otherwise – the first person he’d have turned to would have been his mother. She’d do anything to protect her son.’
‘What about Mary Summers?’ Zoe asked. ‘Celia refused to give her a loan to pay off the bailiffs. That’s a motive.’
‘Not a particularly compelling one,’ Dan said. ‘That all happened years before Celia’s death. If Mary Summers had wanted to lash out, surely she would have done it at the time? Why wait?’
‘The one person we’ve not considered yet is Julie Desmond,’ said Isabel.
‘That’s because she wasn’t around when Celia Aspen disappeared,’ Lucas said.
‘Allegedly.’
Lucas sat up and shuffled. ‘What’re you saying, boss?’
Isabel smiled. ‘Sit still, Lucas. Stop waggling. You look like a cat getting ready to pounce. What I’m saying is that the facts we’ve discovered today give Julie Desmond one hell of a motive.’
‘She’s also got one hell of an alibi.’
‘Yeah, I’ve been hearing that a lot over the last few days, but I think it’s time for us to stand back and reconsider, especially in light of the latest revelations.’ Isabel paused to let what she was saying sink in. ‘How solid is Julie Desmond’s alibi? How thoroughly was it explored?’
Zoe studied her notes. ‘As you know, Julie’s movements and passport were routinely checked as part of the missing person’s investigation. She flew out of the country in the early hours of Sunday 11th May 1986 and returned on 13th August. She said she rang and spoke to her aunt a couple of times during the first week of her holiday, and the phone records backed that up. There were two incoming calls from Australia. The first was made on the 14th of May and the second was four days later on the 18th of May.’
