Murder at the Rocks (15 page)

‘Yes, and I’ve decided to keep them, also.’

‘Oh, I’m so glad.  I think we will make a damn good team, don’t you?’  Julia smiled.  ‘In fact, I’ve been thinking that I’d like to take an active part in the company.  Would you mind?’

‘No, I’d welcome it,’ said Nicholas.  ‘I know nothing about the jewellery business, and then I’ve also got my work.’

‘So, I am genuinely needed,’ said Julia.

‘Very much,’ laughed Nicholas.

Julia sighed and a wide smile came to her face.  ‘That’s marvellous.  I think a glass of sherry is in order on such an occasion.  I’ll do the honours.’  Julia put her cigarette in the ashtray, got to her feet and went to the liquor cabinet where she poured two glasses and handed one to Nicholas.  ‘To our partnership.’  Nicholas raised his glass and took a sip, sensing his aunt’s elation.

Julia looked down at the photograph on the coffee table.  ‘I found that tucked amongst Laurence’s things the other day. You’re welcome to have it, Nicholas.’  She reached down and picked the photograph up.  ‘Taken long before all the trouble started between your father and Laurence.’

‘It’s hard to believe there was such a time,’ said Nicholas.

‘I agree, but here’s proof.  Obviously taken at the house in Mosman before I met Laurence.’  Julia paused, a frown coming to her face.  ‘Your mother’s wearing that locket you showed me the other day.’

‘Yes, I noticed that.’

‘I wonder who the man in uniform is,’ she mused.

‘It’s Christopher Leonard.’

‘That name’s familiar.  Who is he?’

‘An artist.  He lives just outside Bowral not far from Gray’s Manor.’

‘Oh, yes, of course.  I saw one of his exhibitions not long ago in Sydney.  I remember being disappointed when he didn’t attend.’  Julia placed the photo back down onto the coffee table.

‘Well, that doesn’t surprise me,’ said Nicholas.  ‘He’s somewhat incapacitated.  I believe, from his service in the Vietnam War.  I don’t think he ventures far from the Southern Highlands.’

‘I had no idea.  Do you know him well?’

‘No, although our paths did cross a few times when I was young and staying at the Manor during the school holidays.  He used to come over to see Rutledge.’  Nicholas smiled.  ‘They shared a love of chess.’  Nicholas studied the photo again.  ‘I am surprised to see him with Dad in this photograph though.  I wasn’t aware they’d ever been friends, although it may explain why one of his paintings hangs in the study in Mosman.’

‘Talking about your father, didn’t you say the police have been to see you again?’

‘Yes.  Apparently, they found a number of Dad’s bank statements in Laurence’s office.  They said that Dad deposited a certain amount of money into Laurence’s account each month and has done for years.  They suspect blackmail.’

‘But what could Laurence blackmail your father over?  It seems a preposterous idea.’

‘I agree, but Dad’s letter does make it more poignant.’

‘What letter?’

‘He wrote to me just before he died.  I’d let you read it, but it’s with the police at the moment.’  Nicholas relayed the contents of the letter.

‘I wonder why he wasn’t free to say what their estrangement was about.’ said Julia.  ‘And, as for the consequences if Laurence contested the will...  Sounds very strange.  Do the police think that might be why Laurence was killed?  Because he planned to contest the will.’

‘They didn’t comment, but it has to be a possibility.’  Nicholas sat back in his chair.  ‘I thought if I could find out what Dad meant, it might help to prove I wasn’t involved in Laurence’s death.’

‘Oh course, you don’t have an alibi for the whole evening, do you?’  Julia glanced again at the newspaper.  ‘Unlike mine.  Plastered across the front of the newspaper.’

‘Have you spoken to your father’s staff about the letter?’

‘I spoke to Mr Godwin on Friday because he helped Dad write it, but he didn’t know anything.’

‘What about Mrs Hadley?  She was your father’s housekeeper for so many years, Nicholas.  Surely she...’

At that same moment, the living room door opened and Mapsom appeared.  ‘I beg your pardon, Madam, but there’s a telephone call for you.  I did say you are engaged, but the gentleman insisted he speaks to you.’

‘Who is it, Mapsom?’

‘He didn’t wish to say, Madam.’

‘Thank you, Mapsom.  I’ll take it in the study.’

‘Very good, Madam.’  Mapsom disappeared.

‘I’m sorry, Nicholas.  It may be Thomas.’

‘I understand,’ said Nicholas, sensing Julia’s concern.

CHAPTER 20

Nicholas glanced at the photograph of his parents again before slipping it into his pocket and leaving the house.  He felt heartened by his aunt’s enthusiasm to be involved in Brayshaw’s, her unmistakable joy at being needed striking a particular note.  As if her sense of purpose had suddenly been restored.

Picking up the threads of their conversation as he drove away, Nicholas decided to follow his aunt’s advice and seek out Mrs Hadley in the hope she could shed some light on his father’s difficulties with Laurence.

Forty minutes later he reached the leafy suburb of Cremorne on the North Shore and stopped the car outside a turn of the century, Federation style house.  Converted into two flats, and nestled in a leafy garden, Nicholas made his way along the garden path to the left side of the building where he rang the door bell.  Moments passed before the door opened and Eileen Hadley appeared, a wide smile revealing her familiar warm nature.  Her eyes glistened with tears.

‘Nicholas.  Is it really you?  Mr Godwin told me you were back.  Come in, my dear.’

Eileen closed the door as Nicholas pulled his jacket off.  ‘I would have come earlier, Mrs Hadley, but with all that’s happened over the past few days...’

‘Yes.  I read about your uncle’s death in the newspaper.  Dreadful business.  Do the police have any idea who did it?’

‘No.’  Nicholas laid his jacket across a chair next to the door.

‘Well, I suppose these things take time.’

‘I’m sure they do.’  Nicholas paused before continuing.  ‘I wanted to apologise for your dismissal.  Dad had planned that both you and Mr Godwin were to stay on - at least until I got back from overseas.’

‘I know, but these things happen and it’s all worked out quite well.  Mr Godwin is settled and so am I.’  Eileen Hadley looked around smiling.  ‘And I’m really enjoying having my own place so you mustn’t worry about us.  Mr Godwin is here as a matter of fact.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes.  He came down to Sydney to see a friend, but his train doesn’t leave until six.’  Eileen Hadley opened the door into the living room.  ‘Hubert, see who’s here.’

Hubert Godwin looked up from his newspaper.  ‘Nick, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.  I told you Nick came to see me in Newcastle the other day didn’t I, Eileen?’

‘Yes, you did.’  Mrs Hadley gestured for Nicholas to sit down.  ‘Mr Godwin tells me that you want to find out what caused the trouble between your father and uncle.’

‘That’s right,’ said Nicholas, settling himself into an armchair.

‘Do you mind me asking why?’ said Eileen Hadley perching herself on the arm of the sofa.

‘Because I believe I’m involved in some way.’

‘I don’t see how?  You were just a child when all the trouble started.’  Mrs Hadley shook her head.  ‘Such an awful time it was too.’  She looked across at Godwin.  ‘Do you remember Hubert?  It all started when Mr Harford went off to Brisbane.’

Godwin rubbed his hand across his chin.  ‘Yes, I remember now.  When he returned the following day, he told me that under no circumstances was I to admit his brother into the house again.’

‘I felt so sorry for your aunt at the time, Nicholas,’ said Eileen Hadley.  ‘She and your mother had been great friends and I’m sure she missed her.  She came to the house one day to see your father.  I think she wanted to have you for the school holidays, but your father refused.  I never saw her again.’

Godwin took his glasses from their case and snapped the case shut, startling Mrs Hadley.  ‘You know, I’ve just remembered where I saw the key to that locket you showed me the other day, Nick,’ he said.

‘What locket?’  Eileen asked.

‘It’s a piece of jewellery that, presumably, belonged to my mother, Mrs Hadley.  The key is missing.  In fact, I have it with me.’  Nicholas took the green velvet case from his pocket, opened it, and handed it to Eileen Hadley.

‘My, it’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?’ she said.

‘Do you remember my mother wearing it, Mrs Hadley?’ asked Nicholas.

‘No.  I would have remembered I’m sure.’

‘She’s wearing it in this photograph.’  Nicholas took the photograph from his shirt pocket.  Eileen Hadley squinted at the faded image.

‘This was taken long before I came to work for your father, Nicholas.’  She glanced at Mr Godwin.  ‘I doubt you were working for him then either, Hubert.’

‘No.  Arthur Rutledge would have been though.  He was in your father’s employ at least ten years before I arrived.  In fact, he may have taken that photograph.  I know early on, he worked at the Mosman house and only went up to Gray’s Manor when your father wanted to get away from the city.’

Nicholas looked over to Hubert Godwin.  ‘You said you’d remembered where you’d seen the key, Mr Godwin.’

‘Oh, yes.  A man came to the house one day and asked to speak to your father, but I told him he was unavailable.  He wouldn’t be deterred though and handed me a tiny, gold key.  It had an emerald encircled by tiny diamonds just like the locket.  He asked me to show it to your father.’

‘And did you?’

‘Yes and your father reacted immediately.  He asked me to show the man in.’

‘Do you know who he was?’

‘No, but when he’d left, your father told me to prepare his overnight bag.  That was the day he left for Brisbane.’

‘I wonder what was so important in Brisbane.’

Shortly after, Nicholas left Eileen Hadley and Hubert Godwin, promising to keep in touch.  He returned to his car and sat for a long moment thinking about Godwin’s recollection about the key and what message the man who came to the house, that day, wanted to convey.  Had his appearance prompted his father’s sudden journey to Brisbane and, if so, why?

CHAPTER 21

Early the next morning, Fitzjohn made his way to Howard Parish’s terrace house in Glebe to find him on the front porch watering two large pot plants.  Howard looked around as Fitzjohn’s car pulled up at the curb.  He put the watering can down and opened the wrought iron gate as Fitzjohn climbed out of the car.

‘Good morning, Inspector.’

‘Morning, Mr Parish.  I have a few more questions, if you don’t mind.’

‘Oh?’

Fitzjohn did not reply, but followed Howard through the front door and into a long rectangular living room, its white painted walls and fireplace lending a sterile feel, and a stark contrast to the dark wooden floor boards.  These creaked as Fitzjohn walked across them.  He settled himself into one of two sofas that faced each other.  Howard Parish hovered nervously for a moment before sitting down himself.

‘How can I help you, Inspector?’

Fitzjohn sat back, his suit coat button taut over his rotund shape.  ‘Two things, Mr Parish.  Firstly, it’s come to my attention that you may have been the main source of communication between Edward Harford and his brother.  Is that true?’

‘Yes, I suppose I was.  After Edward Harford retired, I found myself increasingly the link between the two.’

‘Were you privy to the reason they disliked each other?’

Howard Parish hesitated for a moment before he said, ‘No.’

‘You couldn’t hazard a guess?’  Howard moved in his chair as he shook his head.

Fitzjohn sighed.  ‘Very well.  In that case we’ll move on.  I’d like you to go over your movements last Wednesday evening for me again.  I seem to remember you said you left Brayshaw’s earlier than usual that afternoon.’

‘That’s right, I had an appointment at the bank.’

‘Did you go back to work afterward?’

Howard pursed his lips.  ‘No, it was after five when my appointment finished, so I came home.’

‘I see.’  Fitzjohn’s eyes locked onto Howard Parish.  ‘Does anyone ever use your office in the evening when you’re not there?’

Parish hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the tassels of a rug that lay on the sofa next to him.  ‘Not that I’m aware of.’

‘So, no one would have occasion to go into your office and turn on the light other than yourself.’

‘Well, I suppose Laurence Harford may have done so on occasion if he was looking for something in particular.  Why do you ask?’

‘Because I’m led to believe that on the night Laurence Harford died, the light in your office was visible from the street.’  After a moment of silence, Fitzjohn looked at the signet ring on Howard Parish’s right hand, a large ruby in its centre, and commented, ‘An unusual ring, Mr Parish.’

Thrown by the change of subject, Parish looked down at his hand.  ‘I had it designed especially.  I like rubies, you see.’  Fitzjohn nodded.

‘Tell me, Mr Parish.  Do you know a man called Piers LaSalle?’

‘I think I’ve heard the name.  Why?’

‘So you’ve never met?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘That’s interesting because I was under the assumption that you went with Mr LaSalle to Quay West Suites on the night that Laurence Harford died.’  Howard Parish’s hands trembled as he took his handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow.  ‘Am I mistaken?’

After a moment’s pause Howard Parish said, ‘No, you’re not.’

‘Then perhaps you’d like to explain what business you and Piers LaSalle had together on Wednesday evening.’

Howard drew a deep breath.  ‘Very well.  Piers LaSalle was in the office the night Mr Harford died.’

‘How do you know?  You said you weren’t there.’

‘I know, but it wasn’t quite correct.’

‘You mean you lied.’  Howard Parish remained silent.  ‘Well?’

‘Yes.’

Fitzjohn’s expression betrayed his annoyance.  ‘Why?’