Chapter 13
‘Why didn’t you just tell him you had enough tomatoes?’ Jess asked sternly over the breakfast table, shooting an irritated glance at Sean’s tomatoes glowing in a bowl on the kitchen counter. ‘You’ve only just finished dealing with the last lot.’
‘I was flustered. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I panicked, and then the moment to say it passed.’
‘You are the one who’s always going on about the importance of clear and honest communication,’ said Jess.
The girl seemed to be enjoying herself. And frankly, who could blame her?
Having a sensible social worker for a mother must have been irritating at times, and now she was in the position of giving her a ticking off.
‘Anyway, I thought you said he hadn’t planted any tomatoes. ’
‘He didn’t; these are self-seeded. From last year, I suppose. He said the garden is full of tomatoes. They are taking over. They’re bullying the delphiniums, apparently, and shouldering out the zinnias.’
‘Well, that’s not your problem. You’ll have to tell him, or this will go on all summer and the authorities will find us crushed and suffocated beneath tonnes of tomatoes.’
‘I’ll tell him. Now in the meantime, what are we going to do with these?’
Jess raised her eyebrows: ‘We?’
Julia gave her daughter a pleading look.
‘Luckily for you, Mum, I have been googling tomato recipes, and I found instructions for drying them in the oven. Then you can keep them for non-tomato season. Assuming that at some point you will feel like eating tomatoes again. Anyway, I will give it a try this morning.’
‘Thank you, love. I’ve got some paperwork to take care of. I’ll be at the desk if you need me.’
Julia had her own plans for the morning.
She’d woken up filled with absolute certainty that she had not misheard or misremembered the description of the heroic, life-saving adventures of Garforth and Loxton.
Biddy had definitely told her that the colonel had saved Garforth, and even got a medal for it.
But according to Dick, it had been the other way around.
Garforth was the hero. He had saved the colonel’s life.
She tended to believe Dick’s version of events. He had been there, with them. He had no reason to lie, as far as she could see. She felt fairly sure he was telling the truth – or at least, telling what he believed to be the truth. Maybe Biddy had simply got the story wrong.
Julia would check the facts before taking a wild story to Hayley Gibson.
She wasn’t sure why, but the distinction felt important.
Sitting at her desk, she opened her laptop, resolutely resisting checking her email or scrolling through Facebook.
She went straight to the search engine and typed in ‘British military medals’.
It was amazing what you could find online, she thought for the millionth time.
It was a matter of mere minutes to find a searchable database of medal recipients.
She entered Colonel Clarence Loxton’s name and wasn’t entirely surprised to discover that he had not been decorated.
But when she put in Edwin Garforth, there he was.
She felt a rush of excitement, even triumph. She had found a vital piece of information; a hole in the story of the colonel and Garforth. She needed to tell Hayley Gibson.
The detective inspector answered on the second ring. ‘What’s up?’
‘Hello, Hayley, how are you? I am calling to give you some information about—’
‘Hang on.’
Ear to the phone, Julia heard Hayley say, ‘Tea, please,’ over the muted clinks and clatters of a restaurant.
‘Right you are.’ Julia recognised this as Flo’s voice, which meant Hayley was in the Buttered Scone. Still glowing from her clever discovery in the medals department, Julia reckoned she should be a detective herself.
‘You’re at the Buttered Scone,’ she said smugly, when Hayley turned her attention back to the phone call.
‘Yes, I am. Have you ever thought of being a detective?’
Julia ignored the teasing tone and said, ‘I’ve got some info for you.’
‘Shoot.’
‘I was chatting to one of Colonel Loxton’s army buddies at the funeral and…’
There was a bit of mumbling and scraping of furniture and Hayley said: ‘Sorry, Julia. The person I’m meeting just arrived. Can we chat later?’
‘But it’s important—’
‘This won’t take long. Maybe fifteen minutes?’
It was decided that Julia – who had some shopping to do anyway – would meet Hayley at the Buttered Scone, thus bumping off two birds with a single stone. Three birds, in fact, if you counted walking Jake.
‘Well, if it isn’t my favourite customer,’ said Flo.
Julia enjoyed a small flush of pleasure at being so addressed, a flush that faded rapidly when she saw that Flo was looking lovingly at Jake. His tail slap slap slapped on the floor, and the way he looked at Flo, it was clear that she was a serious contender for favourite human.
‘The special today is a delicious home-made tomato soup,’ said Flo. ‘Lovely home-grown tomatoes, cooked with—’
Julia shuddered. ‘No soup. I don’t want to see another tomato. A cup of tea and a cinnamon bun for me, please.’
‘And another pot of tea for me too, please,’ said Hayley. She had a phone and a notebook and a pen at her elbow. It was clear that she’d been working.
When Flo was a good distance away, and not looking at them – Julia was convinced she could lip read – she told Hayley about the alternative versions of the life-saving event, her online investigation, and her strong feeling that the colonel had taken credit for a brave act on Garforth’s part.
Hayley’s face puckered with distaste. ‘That’s pretty dishonourable behaviour, if it’s true.’
‘Yes. And I’m wondering whether they might have come to some sort of arrangement between them. Financially, I mean. Garforth got a good, well-paying job in return for his silence. It might explain the cars and glamorous life.’
Hayley seemed to be weighing up whether to say something.
Julia thought she looked like Henny Penny when she was preparing to lay an egg.
After a minute, Hayley produced hers. ‘This morning, I took a look at Garforth’s bank account, and it was quite illuminating.
As we suspected, he was getting a generous salary from the colonel.
By generous, I mean three or four times what you’d expect him to earn. ’
‘Well, this might explain why. It’s possible that it’s not just a salary, it’s hush money. To make sure Garforth keeps his secret safe. And the colonel can go on being a decorated war hero.’
‘Exactly. And strictly between you and me, Julia – I really shouldn’t be telling you any of this – there’s something else.’
Julia waited. It was unlike Hayley to share private information, and she didn’t want to spook her into clamming up.
‘The payments from the colonel to Garforth stopped three months ago.’
Jake, who had been dozing quietly at Julia’s feet, sat bolt upright.
‘A cinnamon bun for you…’
Julia and Hayley jumped. Flo had materialised silently next to them, as if from the ether. She put a cinnamon bun the size of a steering wheel in front of Julia, along with a teapot.
‘And a treat for His Majesty.’ Two slices of bacon glistened on a side plate.
Jake’s eyes locked on them. His wide pink tongue licked his lips in anticipation.
‘Thank you, Flo, you do spoil him,’ said Julia, taking the plate. She offered Jake a slice, which disappeared down his gullet in a nanosecond.
‘Don’t eat so fast,’ she told the dog. ‘Savour the moment.’
The three humans, who all knew Jake well, chuckled at the very idea.
‘Oh, all right then,’ Julia said, giving him the second piece. She thought perhaps he did eat it a little more slowly, but if so the difference was minuscule.
Julia pulled off a piece of her bun and, following her own advice, ate it slowly and mindfully.
When Flo was gone, the women resumed their conversation.
‘Why did the payments stop?’ Julia asked with a frown. ‘What do you think happened three months ago that made the colonel stop paying?’
‘There might have been a dispute of some kind. Or perhaps the colonel ran short of money and couldn’t pay? We know that he was being seriously threatened by debt collectors.’
‘Could be,’ said Julia. ‘But why did Garforth stick around if his salary wasn’t being paid?’
They drank their tea and mulled over the question.
‘You don’t think…’ It was such a horrible thought that Julia said it tentatively, almost reluctantly.
‘I’m just putting it out there… I mean, it’s probably not…
’ She leaned in and spoke in a whisper, ‘Is it possible that there was some dispute or issue with the salary, and Garforth didn’t leave because he was waiting around for something bigger, like… ’
They both looked around to make sure Flo wasn’t around, or looking in their direction. They leaned in closer, their heads almost touching and spoke quietly, in unison: ‘Like an inheritance?’
Hayley’s eyes were narrow and searching. ‘And if that were the case, one might be wondering if Garforth didn’t perhaps… hasten the process along.’
In unison, they put their teacups down in their saucers and sat back, each in their own thoughts.
‘What about Peckham?’ Julia asked. ‘I thought you liked him for the murder. On the face of it, he’s more the type.’
‘We had him in for questioning, but we haven’t found anything by way of supporting evidence.
The toe, sure. He’s admitted to that. But he’s a professional debt collector.
As he rightly pointed out, you don’t get your money by killing people.
And besides, a smack to the head? That’s not the work of a professional.
If it was him, we would be expecting to see either prolonged torture to get him to pay, or an execution-style murder. ’
‘I agree. It looks more like a crime of passion, of anger, doesn’t it?
Garforth would have been angry, if his money had been cut off.
And there’s so much about his behaviour that was weird.
The horses and car and the unexplained money.
Lying to you about Peckham’s visits. Oh, and when I walked in on him in the study, he acted really strangely and guilty and shoved something between the books in the bookshelves, like he was hiding it. ’
‘Why didn’t you tell…?’ Hayley abandoned her exasperated enquiry, and asked instead. ‘What was he hiding?’
‘I couldn’t see. It was small enough to fit between the books.’
Julia made a sort of rectangular shape with her hands held vertically and then horizontally.
‘Like an envelope, or a piece of paper? It could have been that or some other smallish thing.’
‘I’m going to speak to Garforth,’ Hayley said, holding her arm up to get Flo’s attention for the bill. ‘Whereabouts did he hide this thing? Which bookshelf?’
‘In the study. There are a lot of books, but he shoved the thing in the shelves on the right-hand side.’ Julia squinted her eyes almost closed, trying to picture the scene.
She held her arm out as if reaching for the right one, waving her hand.
‘I’d say, maybe a third of the way up. Next to a red book. Or no, maybe…’
Hayley stood up. ‘Come on. You’re coming with me. You can see if you can find it.’
‘But I don’t have a car.’
‘I’ll drive us.’
‘What about Jake?’
‘We won’t be long; he can stay in the car.’
‘But I…’
Before Julia could complete her list of objections, Hayley was at the till paying for both of their breakfasts.