Chapter 29
Trish and Paul made their disapproval of the dognappers’ release on bail quite clear.
They both worked in sullen silence and the atmosphere in the CID office that afternoon was subdued.
It was as though their colleagues had been infected by their disappointment at what they saw as soft treatment of the couple who’d caused so much anguish to Trish’s family.
Yet as far as Gerry Heffernan was concerned, they’d done the right thing in not opposing bail.
They had the animals in the sanctuary to consider, and because of their responsibilities, he doubted the couple posed a danger to the public or a flight risk.
If they needed to take them into custody again, they knew exactly where to find them.
Tracing the former residents of Casa Mirabilis was proving to be an uphill struggle.
Even if Aleric Donnal had been killed shortly before Timothy Fontescue-Burns took possession of the property, there was a good chance his friends would know something about the previous occupants.
But at least, thanks to Darren, they had one name.
Juniper, now known as June, Della’s new business partner.
Wesley had been sorely tempted to delegate the job of talking to June to someone else, but when he rang the number for the healing retreat, he was told that it was Della’s day off but that June Wogan was on the premises.
As they had no clients booked in that afternoon, she was available to speak to them at any time.
Rachel admitted that she was curious to see how the goats were used as an aid to healing, yoga and meditation, so she was keen to go with him.
As far as she was concerned, of all the animals she and her husband, Nigel, kept on their farm, the goats were the most assertive and most likely to cause chaos.
Wesley though he could detect a look of slight amusement on her face as she parked outside the former barn near the village of Tradington that now served as the retreat.
This was Wesley’s first visit to his mother-in-law’s new venture. Pam had been invited, but she’d always managed to come up with some excuse. At least now he would be able to report back to her.
They were greeted by a plump middle-aged woman with curly blonde hair. She wore an immaculately clean pale blue tunic, the sort usually sported by beauticians and people working in spas, and she shook their hands with a smile before asking if they’d like to meet the goats.
Rachel caught Wesley’s eye as they produced their ID.
‘We did call ahead,’ Wesley said, feeling an explanation was needed.
The woman looked flustered. ‘Oh dear, I’m afraid I’ve only just got back from Neston. You must have spoken to Polly, our receptionist. I haven’t had a chance to catch up with her yet. Sorry, I thought you were clients. Our goats are very popular,’ she added.
‘I’m sure they are,’ said Wesley. ‘We’re looking for June Wogan.’
‘You’ve found her. What’s the matter? Has something happened to my daughter? Is she all right?’
‘It’s nothing like that. Don’t worry. We just need to ask a few questions, that’s all. Can we talk somewhere more private?’ Wesley looked at her hopefully. They needed her co-operation.
After a moment of hesitation, she led them into an office at the side of the reception desk and invited them to sit. Wesley could detect a slight whiff of the farmyard in the air. The goats.
‘Can you tell me what this is about?’ There was still a note of anxiety in the woman’s voice, and she scratched her arm as though she had an annoying itch.
Rachel spoke first. ‘Have you ever been known by the name Juniper?’
The silence that followed lasted a few moments.
‘I did use that name once – thought it sounded more interesting than June.’ The woman gave a weak smile. ‘The follies of youth, eh!’
‘Did you ever live in a commune called Casa Mirabilis, run by a man called Timothy Fontescue-Burns?’
She nodded. ‘That was a long time ago. Brings back a few memories.’ There was a small smile of reminiscence on her lips.
‘Our team are tracing everyone who lived there when Timothy Fontescue-Burns was in charge. I don’t know whether you’re aware, but human remains have been found on the premises.’
‘I heard it on the news. The house is called something else now and I didn’t realise it was Casa Mirabilis until there was a picture of it on the TV.
It came as a terrible shock, but surely the bones were old.
Nothing to do with us. Still, it’s not nice to think that I might have been living there with a dead body in the cellar. ’
Wesley caught Rachel’s eye. So far all the media had been told was that human remains had been found at the house. Gerry had wanted to hold back the details so it would be easy to sort any genuine information that came in from the false.
‘Have you ever heard the name Aleric Donnal?’
‘No. Who is he?’
June’s reaction seemed innocent, but Wesley didn’t answer the question ‘We believe the remains date to around the time of the commune, or maybe a little before,’ he continued. ‘We’d like to ask you some questions about your time there. When did you move in?’
‘As soon as Tim bought the place. I was there till he died and then we all split up and went our separate ways. Look, I wasn’t in a sexual relationship with Tim, if that’s what you’re getting at.
He was our sort of . . . leader. Our guru, if you like.
It was his house and he was the one with the money.
He was related to the Fontescues of Fontescue Hall, you know.
The golden sheep of the family, he used to call himself. ’
‘Tell us about the commune. I understand it was Timothy who named it Casa Mirabilis.’
Wesley glanced at Rachel. From time to time, whenever a goat bleated outside, her gaze wandered to the window.
‘Tim had such high hopes for our little community,’ June said wistfully.
‘But we were only human, and personalities clashed, so after a while things started to turn a bit sour. In the end, he died.’ Her expression clouded.
‘It was the first time I’d come face to face with death. I think I was in shock for a while.’
‘I can understand that,’ said Wesley sympathetically. ‘I believe his body was found by a young woman called Fiorenza.’
‘Was that her real name, or did she make it up?’ Rachel asked. She was a practical woman with little time for anything pretentious.
June gave a sad little laugh. ‘We all tried to make ourselves more exotic in those days. She once told me that her name was Pauline Florence, but she hated it. She liked people to assume she was Italian, but she was originally from Pontefract.’
Wesley took out his notebook. First things first. ‘Can you give us the names of everyone who lived there?’
‘Well, there was Fiorenza . . . and Tim, of course.’
‘That leaves two more.’
‘That would be Aphrodite and Apollo.’
‘Not their real names, I take it.’
‘Those are the only names I knew them by. They were a devoted couple, who kept themselves to themselves most of the time. I’ve no idea where they are now. The police came round and spoke to everyone when Tim died. Surely there’s a record of their real names.’
‘According to the reports I’ve seen, the residents weren’t very co-operative. They gave what turned out to be false names and nobody attended the inquest apart from Fiorenza – and when she gave evidence, she insisted that was her full name.’
June had the grace to blush. ‘Oh dear. I remember now. We all regarded the police or anyone in authority as the enemy – the man. Never give in to the man, Tim used to say. He died of an overdose, but there was nothing suspicious about it, so as far as we were concerned, it was nothing to do with us. We floundered around there for a few weeks after his death, then eventually everyone decided to leave. I think the whole thing would have fallen apart soon anyway, even if Tim hadn’t died.
’ She paused. ‘To tell you the truth, he was getting more and more controlling and people were starting to resent it. I see now that we were rather na?ve, and even, dare I say it, arrogant. And of course the only reason Tim could afford the house was because his family were rich. But back then, we took ourselves seriously. Far too seriously.’
‘So you returned to normal life?’ said Rachel.
‘That’s right. I went to live with a friend in Neston and worked in various jobs until I found my calling and trained as a yoga teacher.
’ June paused. ‘Look, I’ve told you about everyone who was at Casa Mirabilis, and I assure you that if anyone was trying to bury dead bodies in the cellar, we would have noticed. ’
‘You assume the remains were found in the cellar?’
She looked puzzled. ‘That’s where murderers usually bury bodies, isn’t it?’
‘Do you remember any building work being carried out while you were there?’
‘Yes. There was only one bathroom and there were five of us, so it sometimes got a bit awkward if we wanted to go to the loo.’ She gave a little giggle. ‘Tim employed a builder to put in a cloakroom under the stairs. Things were a lot easier after that.’
‘I can imagine,’ said Rachel. ‘Did you have much to do with the builder?’
‘I used to chat to him a bit, but I’m sure he thought we were all weirdos. His name was Pete. Funny the things you remember. Actually, I met him in Neston recently. Nice old boy. Amazing that he recognised me from all those years ago.’
‘We’ve spoken to him,’ said Wesley. ‘Did he do any other work in the house?’
June shook her head.
‘Did anyone else do any building or repair work while you were there?’
‘Not that I’m aware of.’
‘What about in the dining room – the room next to the kitchen?’
She shook her head again.
‘You didn’t notice any wonky plastering in there – on the wall opposite the fireplace?’