The next morning Duncan was at the café bright and early and looking forward to seeing Trudy Loveday again. He wondered if she’d take her cap off today, and if she’d be wearing that light citrus-scented perfume she’d been wearing before.
Before drifting off to sleep last night he’d gone over how he’d play it today, and if he should ask her out on a date. A proper date, with none of this air of ‘just business’ to spoil things. He had to admit, there was something about her that nagged very pleasantly at him. She seemed such an odd contrast somehow. An innocent, but a copper, of all things. A natural beauty, who genuinely didn’t seem to be aware of the fact. A little spitfire, but with a prim and proper attitude that made him want to shake her up a bit.
Of course, he’d have to be careful to take her somewhere where none of Glenda’s friends were likely to frequent but that …
His pleasant thoughts skidded to a rather abrupt halt as Trudy walked through the door – closely followed by an older man. It took Duncan only a few seconds to remember where he’d seen him before – which had been residing over the inquest into Thomas Hughes’s death. In another moment, his formidable memory came up with the name.
‘Constable Loveday, Dr Ryder, thank you for agreeing to see me,’ he said formally, rising from his seat at the table he’d picked because it was furthest away from the window, and reaching out to shake their hands. None of his chagrin or displeasure at finding her accompanied was allowed to show on his face.
Clement nodded, looking at him curiously.
When Trudy had arrived at his office and told him they had to go somewhere else before interviewing Angela Calver (whom she’d tracked down to her job in a record shop in Little Clarendon Street) he’d been amenable. And when she’d told him about the phone call to her home from Duncan Gillingham last night, he’d been very amenable indeed.
He’d been intending to make this particular young man’s acquaintance as soon as possible, and now he wouldn’t have to think up excuses.
Trudy, who’d been watching Duncan closely from the moment she’d walked in, was sure that she’d seen a flicker of disappointment and anger in his eyes over the fact that she wasn’t alone, and she felt a distinctly feminine and near-spiteful pleasure at having put a spoke in his wheel.
When she’d got up that morning, she’d hadn’t wanted to have to lie to her friend and mentor again. Also, she just had a feeling that meeting this man alone again would be a mistake. She was acting purely on instinct – an instinct that she didn’t fully understand, but which warned her that this man was dangerous to her somehow – and it was all making her feel a little uneasy.
‘We could hardly turn down such a kind invitation,’ Clement responded to his opening with a formal smile of his own as they all sat down. ‘After all, it’s not every journalist who’s willing to share his research,’ he said mildly, well aware that the younger man had shot him a keen glance. ‘Shall we treat ourselves to the full English?’ he asked blandly, after giving the menu a quick perusal.
‘Just toast and scrambled egg for me,’ Trudy said hastily.
‘Yes, why not?’ Duncan said, meeting the coroner’s eyes with a level gaze. ‘Sounds like just the thing on a wet and cold winter’s day.’
The same waitress as their previous visit approached and took their orders, her eyes again lingering on Duncan wistfully. All three of them noticed it. Trudy’s lips thinned, Clement’s twitched and Duncan merely sighed.
‘So, what do you know about Thomas Hughes’s argument with his sister?’ Trudy asked crisply, getting straight down to business.
Duncan, realising that all his plans about making this a more personal and friendly meeting would have to be shelved, took her lead. ‘It seems that he didn’t like his sister’s choice for her second husband. You were aware that she was widowed some time ago?’
Trudy nodded, rapidly scribbling away in her notebook.
‘Well, last year, she re-connected with a friend from the old days, a chap called Captain Rupert Burrows. The “Captain” part is purely an honorary title these days, since he’s no longer in the army. He, Mary, and Mary’s first husband all ran around in the same set when they were “up” at Oxford here. Anyway, after she was widowed and returned home from all that gallivanting about abroad, she met up with this Burrows chap again, and they became an item. I believe they’re what’s known as “unofficially” engaged.’
‘Why unofficially?’ Clement asked curiously.
‘Ah, that’s the thing,’ Duncan said. ‘It seems Mary’s big brother didn’t approve of the match.’
‘Why not?’ Trudy asked bluntly. ‘Is there something wrong with him?’
‘Well, nothing that’s very obvious,’ Duncan said, breaking off the conversation and then leaning back in his chair a little as the waitress delivered two plates. The first, Trudy noticed, she put in front of Duncan – naturally – and the second plateful of the full English was given to Clement.
She had to wait a minute for her own order to be set down in front of her.
When the waitress finally left, Duncan picked up where he’d left off. ‘Oh, he’s a few years younger than his intended, but nothing to raise the eyebrows over. And he’s a bit of looker too – you know, one of those fair-haired, blue-eyed boys that seem to make feminine hearts flutter,’ Duncan said with a smile, sawing into a slice of bacon with his knife.
‘And that’s why her brother didn’t like him?’ Trudy asked sceptically.
‘Oh no. Not entirely,’ Duncan said. ‘I asked around a few people in the know, and it seems our Captain Burrows didn’t exactly cover himself in glory in the war.’
Clement, cutting into a kidney and spearing half a mushroom, shrugged slightly. ‘A lot of men didn’t. I take it Burrows must have done something specific to make Hughes take so firmly against him?’
Duncan nodded, making a mental note. There were certainly no flies on this man. From now on in, he was going to have to watch Dr Ryder very closely. ‘Oh yes. It seems he made a bad decision, arrived at under stress. Men under his command died, when, perhaps, they needn’t have.’
‘A court martial offence?’ Clement asked sharply.
‘Oh no, nothing like that,’ Duncan said. ‘There was no question of cowardice. More a lack of judgement, or competence, I think. It’s not always easy to get the truth out of the army,’ he admitted with a wry grimace. ‘Let’s just say that he was shuffled sideways into a desk job and quietly put away where he couldn’t do any more damage.’
Trudy quickly scrambled through her notes. Yes, she’d thought so. ‘When I did background checks on Thomas Hughes, I found out that he’d worked for the War Office in London,’ she said. ‘So I suppose it would have been easy for him to find out all about the scandal, if he’d decided to check up on sister’s beau. Or he might have heard the gossip about it at the time, and then remembered the name when his sister introduced him.’
‘Either way, he definitely didn’t want his sister marrying the man,’ Duncan said firmly. ‘It’s amazing what the neighbours know and are prepared to talk about.’
Trudy looked across at Clement. So that’s what the massive argument had been all about, she mused. ‘Does he have any money?’ she asked quietly.
‘Clever girl,’ Duncan complimented her. ‘And you’re right – not so’s you notice. He’s getting by on his pension and a bit of savings. It’s Mrs Everly who has the comfortable income, thanks to her late husband’s life insurance.’
All three of them digested this for a moment.
‘But Thomas couldn’t really have stopped her from marrying this Captain Burrows, could he?’ Trudy pointed out logically. ‘I mean, legally there was nothing to stop it? This Captain Burrows isn’t married already and can’t get divorced because he’s a Catholic or anything?’
Duncan paused, his fork holding half a tomato hovering just in front of his lips. ‘Oh no, nothing that romantic,’ he teased her.
Trudy shot him a fuming look and turned back to her notes. ‘So, although Mr Hughes might have been against it, there was nothing he could really do to stop them marrying if they were determined to go ahead with it?’
‘Not on the face of it, anyway,’ Clement said. ‘But I get the feeling, from all that we’ve learned about him so far, that Thomas Hughes liked to have his own way. And had a nasty habit of getting it.’
Trudy nodded. ‘Yes. But I got the same feeling from Mrs Everly – that she liked to get her own way too,’ she clarified, as both men looked at her questioningly. ‘And I don’t think she would have let her brother get in her way if she really wanted something.’
‘You think she might have killed her own brother to stop him interfering?’ Clement asked, clearly surprised.
But Trudy was already shaking her head. ‘No, I’m not saying that exactly. I’m just saying, I think she’s going to marry who she wants to, and family approval – or not – can go hang, as far as she’s concerned. She struck me as a strong-minded and confident woman.’
‘I agree,’ Duncan said cheerfully. ‘Besides, I’ve thought all along that this was a man’s crime.’
‘Oh, did you?’ Trudy said archly. ‘And from last night’s newspaper story, you seem to think it was either Godfrey or Kenneth Wilcox.’
Clement, who’d also read the latest story, looked at Duncan Gillingham thoughtfully. ‘You do seem to have someone in your sights,’ he observed.
Duncan felt himself stiffen in alarm, and forced himself to smile and look relaxed. It was one thing to gently manipulate a pretty young girl into doing his bidding, but it had become rapidly obvious that it would be pointless trying the same trick on this wily old duffer.
‘I think there are things going on in that family that we don’t know about, that’s all,’ he said mildly. ‘So, what’s your next move?’ He reached for his mug of tea and looked at them guilelessly.
‘As if we’re going to tell you,’ Trudy snorted.
Duncan looked abashed. ‘Oh come on! I’ve done my bit – saved you some legwork by finding out about Captain Burrows and the little sister. Play fair!’
Trudy, finishing the last of her eggs and toast, pushed her plate away. ‘I’m a police officer, Mr Gillingham,’ she said magnificently. ‘I don’t have to play fair.’
It was, Clement thought, a perfect exit line. It was such a pity he hadn’t finished his breakfast yet, forcing her to remain in her seat.
Duncan’s laughing eyes told the coroner that he appreciated the joke too, and something about his smugness caught Clement on the raw. He didn’t like the way he was treating Trudy – teasing her, complimenting her, and all but flirting with her. Remembering how convinced Sir Basil bad been that this man was only marrying Glenda Fletcher in order to further his own ambition, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was doing the same thing to Trudy.
After all, it was clear (to him at least) that this brash and cocky young man had an agenda of his own, and didn’t care who he trampled on in pursuit of it. Clement didn’t want Trudy’s career to take a hit because of him, when she already had so many things going against her.
Carefully, he speared his fried egg with a slice of fried bread, and said casually, ‘So what does your fiancée make of your latest scoop?’