The companion, p.31
The Companion, page 31
Glancing at Martha, Toni returned her tentative smile. If Martha had looked embarrassed by the Catholic thing, Toni would have tossed her over the fence.
‘I went to Blacklock House on Friday.’ Freddy moved away from the grave. ‘Patrick Bell’s signed his flat over to that friend he swindled and moved out. Sylvia Burnett has got Martyn into rehab.’
‘Good for Sylvia.’ Toni knew that Sylvia had been wrong to feed her husband’s drug habit, but Haslem had kept it going. She recalled Sylvia’s cry of anguish that Barbara Major was seriously injured. Sylvia had feelings after all. ‘It’s Bunty I feel for. Horrible she has to leave her home.’
‘I was going to tell you.’ Freddy was excited. ‘Bunty is staying at Blacklock House. Garry Haslem bequeathed her his flat and the contents.’
‘Wow.’ Toni was a tad fed up with being caught by surprise. ‘Why? I understood he hated her.’
‘Garry put in his will that him being a barrow boy and Bunty a farmhand’s daughter they had something in common. Before you get misty-eyed,’ Freddy joined Toni on the bench, ‘Bunty pointed out that Haslem expected to outlive her so it was meaningless. Garry didn’t reckon on mild-mannered Rex Lomax slitting his throat. Bunty will pass the flat onto the local hospice one day, she says.’
‘That’s nice.’ Although summer was nearly over, Toni imagined the green shoots of spring. There was good in some of the residents of Blacklock House.
‘I am sorry for not telling you sooner,’ Martha blurted out what she’d said many times over the last month.
‘Enough with that.’ Toni didn’t want to hear it. ‘At least Timothy never got to frame you.’
Toni thought that, but for Rex stepping in, Martha was doing a good job of framing herself. Black Ford Fiesta, keyed Range Rover, failure to tell the police that she’d known all the victims and lastly, retaining important evidence in the form of what she’d called the Tristan-phone. They had found the ‘Martha-phone’ in Rex’s jacket. He had rung Martha after she had escaped from the library with Molly the owl. It was Sheena who found the untaxed black Ford Fiesta in a lock-up that Rex owned. The car he had used to get to and from Seaford Head, and, it seemed from CCTV, to drive much further afield. The lock-up was a grim museum of victims’ trophies that led them to the first murders. When they’d gone public about the currency, a retired constable from Gloucestershire Police had recalled a five-pound note. It was found in their evidence stores without a tag. A member of the public came forward with one more. The third one never materialised. Malcolm said it had probably been sold on to a collector. The murders of Jack Menzies, Stephen Bryant and Matthew Jeffreys had begun with Menzies thirty years ago when Lomax had just had his first case. All the men were fathers of young boys, one murdered walking a dog, and the other two jogging in green spaces. Lomax’s wife Emily had temporarily left him in the period when he killed Bryant. He had had a cancer scare when he murdered Jeffreys. So many patterns. No pattern.
Bunty had shown them the talisman that Rex had used to reveal their secrets while putting them through Leela, the game of knowledge. Rex had used a signet ring he had taken from Jack Menzies. Lomax had told the group that the ring’s owner, had meant a lot to him. Why had Menzies meant a lot to Lomax? Because he was the first victim? There were no links between Lomax and his victims. Lomax had chosen them at random. Martha had said Rex claimed he’d lost a medallion he’d got at mass. She told Toni that Timothy had stolen it from Rex. He hadn’t said Freddy had given it to him. Freddy confessed to Toni she’d found it under her pew and felt guilty, because she suspected the medallion had been Rex’s all along.
‘I suppose we can’t ask if you’re charging Barbara with Emily Lomax’s murder?’ Freddy was tentative.
‘We have no proof Barbara caused Emily’s crash.’ Toni gazed out at the band of glittering sea beyond Newhaven. ‘Possibly she stepped into the lane without seeing Emily Lomax’s car and, feeling guilty, couldn’t admit it.’
Toni shifted her gaze to the hills. A ribbon crossing a patchwork of fields, the Ouse, a tidal river, wended down from Lower Beeding, a village in the west of the county. Even on dull days, this was a view Toni Kemp loved.
‘What mattered more to Major was that her neighbours never knew she was trying to write crime fiction. Just shows that the weight of a secret is calculated by how important it is to the keeper,’ Freddy said. ‘Who honestly cares if Barbara is trying to write a novel?’
‘She doesn’t dare put pen to paper, or fingers to keys.’ Toni rested a hand on her dad’s headstone. ‘Shame, because she has terrific powers of observation. She was on to Rex before us. We thought Barbara had a crush on Rex, but all the time she had noticed discrepancies in what he told people and what she had observed. Barbara had wanted to be Rex’s companion to get closer to him and confirm her suspicions. She had seen Rex in his black Ford Fiesta. She had also noticed his hand only shook when people were watching. Rex’s doctor confirmed that he was as fit as a fiddle. He did not, as Garry claimed and Rex let you all think, have Parkinson’s Disease.’
‘He lied to us all.’ Freddy hadn’t got over that Rex was as horrible as her father. Worse. Fred Power senior had not been a serial killer.
‘Barbara saw Rex take the path out of the garden to Dedmans Heath that afternoon. She was stopped from following him by Bunty wanting to talk about her owl. But later she saw Rex talking to Haslem outside the house. She decided to confront him the night of the extraordinary residents’ meeting. Barbara underestimated Rex. She’s got Sylvia’s doctoring skills to thank that she’s alive.’
‘Remember that time you followed me into that field?’ Freddy was animated. ‘I was followed by a car, the sun was blinding so I couldn’t tell the colour. I was sure the driver was trying to intimidate me, if you hadn’t come along when you did. What if it was Rex?’
‘Why would he want to hurt you?’ To give her her due, Martha looked very worried.
‘Maybe he thought you’d seen him in his car,’ Toni said. ‘Later, perhaps, he realised you knew nothing so he spared you.’
‘The day the Robinsons were murdered, I called on Rex,’ Freddy said. ‘Perhaps he saw me. Timothy said Rex was having a nap, but you’ve established that he was never in his bedroom. He sneaked out down the secret staircase.’
‘Did you find who let Molly the owl out?’ Martha asked.
‘I put equal odds on Lomax, Haslem or Mew.’ Toni removed a weed from Nicky Kemp’s grave.
‘The papers are saying that he killed because he was lonely. Like Dennis Nilsen.’
‘That’s what Lomax told me, but he was playing me. We’ll never know why he killed. I’m not convinced he knew himself.’
‘If we did know, would it help?’ Martha wondered.
‘It might give the families peace of mind, but not much.’ Toni spoke from experience. It had not helped her to know her dad’s murderer was going through a divorce and lost his temper over a pint of gold top.
‘We found a cable from the fountain to the hidden stairs in Rex’s flat ending at a switch. He turned it on when he’d committed a murder,’ Toni told Freddy. ‘Rex’s nod to Patrick Hamilton’s Gaslight.’
Toni’s phone rang. ‘Hey, Mal.’
‘There’s been a robbery at the Co-op, a man with a knife has taken the contents of the till and, er, um, loads of confectionery. The Worrier wants his “dream team on the scene”. Any chance you could meet me there?’
‘Every chance.’ Toni turned to Freddy and Martha, ‘Guys, I’ve got to go, there’s—’
‘I heard.’ Freddy raised her eyebrows. ‘Did Malcolm say how many Snickers were missing?’
‘You’re funny.’ Toni swiped Freddy on the shoulder. It would have tied loose ends to know why Rex Lomax had murdered ten people, but what mattered more than anything was Toni had got her best friend back.
Acknowledgements
When I’m teaching creative writing, I suggest that students write the novel they want to read. Me, I love to curl up with a country-house murder story, so I decided to write one.
My heartfelt thanks to Dr Charlie Skinner for showing me around the country house in which he has a flat. A brave decision since Charlie knew I’ve been known to stick a murder in my own sitting room…
I read many books on serial killers for this story. I was particularly inspired by Signs of Murder by Professor David Wilson. It tapped into my long-held interest in psycho-geography. After that I devoured everything by David Wilson I could find.
As always, friends and my family have given me stalwart encouragement. My cousins Tasmin Barnett and Katherine Nelson are my readers too, and I’ve valued their lovely comments. Thank you both.
Such thanks to Juliet Eve for being my back-up proof-reader as well as a supportive friend.
I’d also like to acknowledge Lisa Holloway who is a true friend.
Sunrise walks on the Downs with the Horseradishes (named after our foraging exploits), Tina Ross, Gill Hamer and Joann Weedon have been precious.
No novel gets written without the support and comradeship of fellow crime writers, Domenica de Rosa and William Shaw. You two are the best. I have given Domenica’s lightning sketches of horses heading for a jump to DC Darren Mason. Domenica’s horses grace my pinboard as I write.
Big thanks to fab emeritus profs Jenny Bourne Taylor and Flis Henwood, and to Vikasini (aka Marianne Dixon) and Candida Lacey. I am ever grateful to retired Chief Superintendent Stephen Cassidy for valuable advice over the years and to Shirley Cassidy for being such a supportive reader.
Always such a thank you to my agent George, at Georgina Capel.
The story owes much to my editor Laura Palmer who is pure gold. And there would be no actual book on a shelf without the fabulous Head of Zeus team. Starting with Peyton Stableford, Laura’s right-hand woman who has been so helpful. Thank you to Liz Hatherell for another sterling copyedit. I am chuffed to have Jon Appleton on proofreading. I’m thrilled that Sophie Ransom (legend) has handled PR. When this isn’t a book, it’s an audio and is read beautifully by the chocolate-voiced actor Richard Attlee. I love the cover of The Companion, so thank you to Emma Rogers.
My partner Melanie Lockett is my first reader, on paper then when the book is published. I couldn’t wish for more love and support. It’s returned in spades.
I can’t say enough how I appreciate the support of readers and of our fabulous libraries and bookshops who have got behind my novels. One reader is Dorothy, sadly no longer with us. Lady Dorothy is named in her memory. Big thanks also to actor Jeremy Preston.
The Companion is dedicated to Philippa Brewster. Philippa published my first novel, Seven Miles From Sydney, in 1987 when she was founding boss of Pandora Press and has always been in my corner both professionally and as a friend.
Lesley Thomson
Sussex, 1st February 2022
About the Author
LESLEY THOMSON grew up in West London. Her first novel, A Kind of Vanishing, won the People’s Book Prize in 2010. Her second novel, The Detective’s Daughter, was a #1 bestseller and the resulting series has sold over 750,000 copies. Lesley divides her time between Sussex and Gloucestershire. She lives with her partner and her dog.
Visit her website at lesleythomson.co.uk
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Lesley Thomson, The Companion
