Clara held the rear car door open and waited for Vanessa to climb out. Once she was out, Clara shouted a thank you in to Terry and slammed the door closed.
“Why do they call him Big Dave?” she wondered.
“Because the previous taxi driver around here was a large man called Dave,” Vanessa explained. “He sold his taxi business to Terence, but the name stuck.”
Clara didn’t think that made much sense, but she also knew she wouldn’t get a better reason than that. She was going to have to get used to Picklemarsh and its odd ways.
“Come on, we don’t want to miss our appointment.” Aunt Vee nodded towards the grand-looking, modern building which contained Julian Bridgewater’s accountancy offices.
“Is this all his?” Clara marvelled at the three-story building which was located on the edge of the village.
“He rents a floor out to a film company, but the rest is for him and his employees. He’s known around here to be the person to go to for all financial needs—investments, mortgages, pensions, the lot.”
“Does he manage your finances?” Clara asked.
“Of course not, he’s a crook.” Vanessa sniffed haughtily.
She walked towards the front door, and Clara quickly fell into step behind her. They walked through the automatic doors and approached the fancy reception desk which housed not one but two receptionists.
“Vanessa Harrington for Julian,” Vanessa greeted one of them.
“Thank you, Miss Harrington. If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll let him know that you’re here.”
Vanessa and Clara walked over to a cluster of leather sofas and sat down. Vanessa leaned forward and rifled through the magazines on the coffee table. She picked up a copy of a woman’s magazine and leafed through it.
“Pick up a newspaper, Clara,” she instructed her niece. “Quickly now.”
Clara grabbed a copy of the local newspaper, opened it up, and started to read about a vegetable-growing contest. She was about to ask why she was being ordered to cover her hands with newsprint when she heard a familiar voice.
Felicity Abbot.
Clara sat as still as stone but lowered the edge of her newspaper and looked out the corner of her eye. Felicity was speaking to a tall man in his fifties. He wore a smart suit and had a slimy grin that Clara instantly took a dislike to.
She couldn’t hear what they were saying, so she just watched them, idly wondering what it was about Felicity that she liked. She’d always had a thing for older women, since she first knew she was gay, but they also frightened her a little, which made dating extremely problematic.
Felicity turned around, and Clara focused her attention back on the newspaper, hoping that they weren’t about to be spotted. Luck was on their side. Felicity left, seemingly without noticing them.
The man she was talking to walked into the waiting room.
“Hello, Vanessa,” he said. “Lovely to see you.”
Vanessa lowered her magazine. “Hello, Julian. This is my niece, Clara.”
Julian turned to her and inclined his head in greeting. Now that he was up close, Clara disliked him even more. His face was extremely angular, his eyes were very close together, and his smile was snake-like.
“Hello,” she said softly.
“I am so sorry to bother you today of all days,” Aunt Vee began, “but Clara needs some financial advice and she’s not in town for very long before she has to get back to London.”
Clara slowly turned to regard her aunt, hoping that her stare conveyed enough anger to let Aunt Vee know that she would be getting some serious silent treatment when they got home.
“You better come through then,” Julian said, a large smile on his face.
They followed him through reception, into a corridor, and finally into a large corner office. The entire way, Clara stared daggers into Vanessa’s back.
“Here we are, ladies. Please, take a seat.” Julian pulled out two chairs from the four that sat around a circular meeting table by the window.
Vanessa took a seat, placing her handbag on the floor beside her. Clara noticed her glance up at the pictures and certificates on the wall before turning to face Julian. “Before we begin, I’m so sorry to hear about Angus,” Vanessa said.
Julian slowly nodded. “It’s a terrible thing, a great loss.”
“Very true,” Vanessa agreed. “And poison, the poor man. I do hope he didn’t suffer?”
Julian leaned back in his chair. “He didn’t seem to. One minute he was talking, the next he just slumped forward. Of course, I tried my best to offer some medical support, but my army days are long gone. And, to be honest, I only knew the basics at best back then.”
“Well, thank goodness you were there,” Vanessa said, piling it on thick. Clara had to do her best to stop her eyes from exploring the tops of her eyelids.
“I just wish we could have stopped whoever did it,” Julian said.
“Do you really think it was someone who knew him?” Vanessa asked. “Surely it was a table of his nearest and dearest? Seems a bit farfetched that one of them would want to murder him.”
“It’s not common knowledge, but his wife was having an affair,” Julian explained. “And Felicity Abbot has been trying to get his job for years. Sylvester King, well, I don’t know what was going on there, but he had some kind of power over Angus.”
“Power?” Vanessa enquired.
“Yes. Angus was loath to talk about it, but something had changed in their relationship over the past few months.” Julian shrugged.
“Wasn’t Jemima Vos also present? I recall hearing her car last night,” Vanessa said. “You know how she drives like a woman possessed.”
“She was there,” Julian said. “Which was a surprise. I know she is a friend of Genevieve’s, but Angus swore to have nothing to do with Anton or Jemima when the land dispute started up. I suppose she had reason to want him dead; then Anton will stop going on and on about the fence.”
“Is that what the dispute was about? A fence?” Vanessa asked.
“Yes, there was a storm four years ago, and a fence came down. Angus had his men put it back up, but Anton says that they put it up in the wrong place. Two metres onto his land.”
Clara couldn’t help but get involved. “They’ve been arguing for four years over two metres of fence?”
Julian smiled. “Yes, they are both very headstrong. They haven’t spoken in person for about a year. Which obviously makes it hard for Genevieve and Jemima, as they are friends.”
“Who do you think killed him?” Vanessa asked bluntly.
Julian didn’t seem at all taken aback by her question. Instead he thoughtfully sucked in his cheek. “Well, if I had to name a name…” He paused. “I’d say Edward Milton.”
“Was he there last night?” Vanessa asked.
“Not in plain sight, no. But it’s common knowledge that he sneaks into the house to see Pippa, and no one hated Angus more than Edward. I’m sure Edward felt that Angus was the only person standing between him and true love, you know how youngsters are.” He glanced at Clara. “No offence.”
Clara did her best to not roll her eyes. A difficulty she was experiencing more and more frequently.
“Did you tell your suspicions to the police?” Vanessa asked.
“I did.” He sat forward, indicating that he was becoming frustrated with the line of questioning. “But that’s not why you’re here.”
“Of course not,” Vanessa agreed. “You see, Clara here has come into an inheritance recently.”
“Oh, I see.” Julian turned to her and smiled that viper-like grin.
“Yes, a dear old aunt of mine,” Clara explained. “Died suddenly in her sleep.”
“On her mother’s side,” Vanessa added.