Chapter 6 #3
“Oh no, Ursula was my dad’s second wife.
My dad and mum divorced when I was ten, so a lot more than thirty years ago.
My mum remarried and we moved to Kent. I saw my dad maybe twice a year, which probably explains why it was usual for me to go so long as an adult without seeing him.
” I heard her sob briefly. “I feel a fraud for being upset because I barely saw him.”
“Don’t. Every family set up is different, and he was still your dad. Did he have any other children?”
“I had an older brother but he died when he was in his twenties in a car crash – black ice on the road and no one’s fault.
I will inherit what’s left of the house and whatever he had left in savings.
I’ll probably put it in trust for my kids; he’d have like that.
” The sob subsided. “How long until we can organise the funeral?”
“I’m not sure, but not too long. The post mortem is being done as we speak and we try and release the body as soon as possible.
Can you tell me anything about your dad’s life?
What were his interests? Did he still work at all?
” It was always difficult finding out information from family members straight after a loved one had died.
“He was retired – he hadn’t worked for years.
He’d invested sensibly over the years and his accountant told him that he wouldn’t live long enough to spend his money if he carried on working.
The irony. He retired and then Ursula died about three years later, and after that he was most interested in his garden.
I encouraged him to move to a smaller place, but he said he needed the space for his archives, although I’ve no idea what they held. ”
“What was his job?”
“Oh, he was an actuary. The world’s most boring job. He had interests outside of work – his gardening took up so much of his time.”
I remembered the gardens at the house. “He’d done a really good job of them at home.”
“He was involved in a group that tried to do as much farm to table as possible, you know, all the grow your own and sustainability. He did a lot for them as well; in fact, I think they met three or four times a week. I suppose I’ll need to arrange a wake so they can attend.
” She sounded thoughtful. “I’d best book a flight. ”
“Hang fire until the body is released for burial. It’s unlikely, but there could be delays.”
“I will do that.” She sounded relieved.
“Do you know the name of the gardening group?” This could’ve been something Amanda was involved in too.
“I think it was The Holding. He spoke about it quite a lot; I think it was a group of very like-minded people who ideally would revert back to how life was about fifty years ago. My dad wasn’t very woke and he was a technophobe.
I wanted us to video call, but he didn’t have a tablet or a smart phone, just an old mobile with no internet.
I really can’t believe he died like that. ” Her sobs started again.
“Can you think of anyone who might’ve wanted to hurt him?” I didn’t have high hopes that she would.
“He was such a lovely man, or he was when I spoke to him. I can’t say I knew that much about him as we didn’t spend much time together – we never really spent a lot of time together, but I looked forward to seeing him.” She burst into tears again.
I waited, giving her space to feel.
“He was more of an uncle than a father. I spent a lot more time with my step-dad – still do. Him and my mum live over here with us. Anyway, I can’t think of anyone who had anything against my dad.
He had a couple of rows with some local company about how they were polluting the area, but that was ages ago.
He was involved in protesting about a potential new housing development on nearby fields as well, the ones that back onto his house.
But that all stopped – someone else bought the fields, I think, or something happened. ”
My ears pricked up at that and I made a note on my pad. “That’s helpful. Did your father have any siblings?”
“None that are still alive. He had a sister but she died of cancer in her forties. That’s it for his side of the family.” She sniffed. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go. One of my kids is off school poorly and they want my attention. It never stops.”
I let her go, spending the next couple of minutes processing while I doodled, letting ideas form.
“Carly,” I called one of the DC’s over. “Can you do some digging, if we’ve not covered this already?”
She nodded, picking up a notebook and pen.
“Find out who owns the fields at the back of Micky Mulligan’s house, and see if you can get a copy of his will and his accounts.
His daughter seems to think he was quite wealthy and money makes anyone a target.
” I tapped my pen on the pad, noticing I’d drawn a man on the roof of a house.
“See if there’s a gardening group in the area too. ”
“I’ve already requested his will and accounts; I did the same for Amanda Goodhew too. If I haven’t had anything back by early afternoon, I’ll chase them up. I’ll find out who owns those fields.” She closed her notebook.
I thanked her and headed off to my seat to find Verity. I wanted a different pair of eyes with me to search through Amanda’s house; another take on what we might find there. I grabbed my car keys and wondered if Atlas had actually been on my roof and whether or not he might’ve fallen through.