Chapter 29
just in time. I pour a cup and try to get my head around what I’ve just heard. The scant details tell more than it first seems.
Her name and nationality are being checked.
Anita called her Louise Gagner, not Louise Loxton. The adopted daughter of Ambrose Loxton’s partner.
This doesn’t fit with what Clemence Gagner told Rupert. It sounds like Clemence had already adopted Lou-Lou before she met Ambrose. A detail she didn’t need to share but if Lou-Lou didn’t take her adopted father’s name, why would she travel to Exeter to confront him about her adoption?
My phone rings. DC Ben Baker is about to drop another shock.
“A 23-year-old woman known as Louise Gagner has been arrested for the murder of Ambrose Loxton.”
“The woman in the reflect-shone photo.”
“Yes. Tracked down after some clever police work.”
Making sure I don’t take too much credit. Has Louise been lying low at Helena’s and the photo helped them find her and link her to a set of fingerprints? It sounds like it. But why is Ben telling me anything?
“I’m calling you because … she’s asked for you.”
What?
“You didn’t think to mention to me that you know her?” he asks.
“I don’t know her! I’ve never met her.”
“She knows you.”
“I don’t know how.” I tell him about Rupert’s trip to Dijon. “He heard they had an adopted daughter called Louise. I’ve only just found out her full name. I’m surprised it’s not Loxton.”
“Well, she’s asked you to come and see her. We offered her a duty solicitor but she wants you instead.”
“I’m not a lawyer.”
“We explained that. And I need to warn you, Tiggy. She’s very confused. She keeps talking about Ambrose’s three-year-old son. Alex Loxton was murdered 20 years ago. She says they called her Louise because Alex was wearing a werewolf suit when he was abducted.”
What? Named after the dead boy? How? And creepy if it even made sense.
“Maybe it’s the language. Is she speaking English?”
“Perfect English.”
“What should I do?”
“That’s up to you, Tiggy. We’re passing on her request to you and we’ll permit you to see her. With a female constable present so you’re not alone with her. Or you can decline.”
“Can I bring Raider?”
I hear him sigh. “He might be an asset. She’s pretty agitated. But we’ll bring you in through the back door this time.”
“OK.” I’m thinking fast. “Has she asked for anything that I can bring with me?”
“She’s mentioned a ‘clé USB’, whatever that is. There’s no computer in her holding cell and you can’t bring one.”
“Thank you, Ben. I’ll be there in an hour.”
Une clé USB. I remember from my schoolgirl French that une clé is a key. At first I think of a key to the secret doors between the two Loxton houses. But the letters USB make my fingers tremble as I look it up.
A flash drive.
Before I shower and change, I message Rupert. He phones straight back.
“Tiggy, this is incredible. I don’t know where to start. Une clé USB. Lou-Lou is your phantom note-writer?”
“She must be. And her last name’s Gagner, not Loxton.”
He says, “French children usually take their father’s name. Not always. But why not?”
“It sounds like Clemence adopted her before she met Ambrose. That seems like an important omission in what she told you but I can’t think why.”
“Why hasn’t Lou-Lou asked for Helena? Her aunt must have all the right contacts to help her.”
Like Tremayne Templeton.
“After sending me the flash drive, Lou-Lou wants me. Helena might be helping her, but if Lou-Lou never came to Exeter with Ambrose while she was growing up, she might not really know Helena. It looks like she’s been staying in one of the two houses – or both – and she eavesdropped on Helena’s conversation with me, planted the flash drive for Raider to find and posted two notes under the door of my flat.”
Lots of whys. But mainly, why me?
“And get this,” I add, “She claims they named her Louise because little Alex Loxton was dressed like a werewolf when he was kidnapped. How does that make sense?”
“Lou-Lou,” Rupert says, thinking aloud. “Loup is the French word for wolf, silent p. Lou-Lou sounds like wolf-wolf.”
“Hmmm. Would Ambrose even do that, name his adopted daughter after his murdered child? She’s an only child so that might explain her obsession with Alex’s case.”
And what about her step-sister, Electra? Did the two girls ever meet?
“I don’t think you should be alone with her, Tiggy. She’s been arrested for murdering her father. Whatever she’s been playing at, the game’s up. And Alex Loxton’s case isn’t her only obsession.”
“What else?”
“Her other obsession is … you.”
On the way, I try to tame the double emotional hit of excitement and apprehension. This visit feels like ‘ground-truthing’ on steroids. I remind myself I don’t have to go through with it but what an opportunity to meet a real-life ‘character’ – the recalcitrant step-daughter who wants my help. She might not only be a little bit crazy but also a murderer! This is the kind of rare opportunity any mystery author would kill for – pardon the pun.
Ben meets us at the back of police headquarters and he codes us through the door. Officers of various ranks are coming on and going off duty and there’s lots of chivvying and camaraderie in a common room we pass. Glimpses of Raider elicit hoots of ‘spotted!’ and calls to me of ‘Tiggy, sticking to your knitting, NOT’. Do people even still say that? I wonder if there’s a sign on their corkboard ridiculing my interference in this case.
Ben introduces us to WPC Teresa Love and I wish her well with a last name like that around here. She gives Raider her hand to sniff, making the three of us instant friends. Then it’s into the room with the accused.
Lou-Lou is sitting at a table. Under the harsh ceiling light she looks pale and drained, her clothing crumpled and her long fair hair falling out of its scrunchie. She could be a younger version of me on a bad hair day. She must be the young woman that Sugar’s owner saw.
WPC Love introduces herself, explains her presence and sits on a chair in the corner.
I go to the table and sit down opposite Lou-Lou. Raider sits at my feet.
“Hi Louise. I’m Tiggy Jones and this is Raider.”
“Call me Lou-Lou.” Light French accent.
“OK. You wanted to see us. We’re not lawyers. I’m a mystery author and Raider is a Dalmatian-Labrador cross. With that in mind, how can we help?”
She opens her mouth and glances at the WPC. In that moment, I know she’s filtering her message. And I won’t mention the notes under the door.
“They think I killed my father. But I was out. When I came back he was dead. He’d already told me some of his precious antiques were missing.”
“A burglar.”
She shrugs. “I didn’t see anyone.”
“Have the police asked you why you came to Exeter?”
“I told them I had questions to ask him about my adoption by Clemence Gagner. Not her real name and not my real mother.”
“Did you get to ask him before he was killed?”
“Yes. He didn’t like the questions and he refused to answer them. He told me I’m very lucky to grow up in France with loving parents. Now he’s dead.”
“What kind of help do you need from me?”
She flicks her eyes towards the WPC and back again. “I have read your books. I know you like … research.”
It’s the same words as in the note but she doesn’t want to say ‘I know you like codes’. She thinks Alex’s story is a code to solve.
“I want to know more about my father’s other children.”
“Electra and Alex,” I say.
“You know about them. I found an old newspaper clipping in my father’s bureau. It said Alex Loxton was kidnapped and murdered at three years old. I tried to find out more about that but it’s too long ago. I think you can find more.”
“And Electra?”
“You look like her pictures. I didn’t know about her until she was dead. My … demi-sister.”
“I’ll see what I can find out about both of them.”
“Please be quick. Especially about Alex. It will … help my case.”
How?
“The story about Alex is very sad and very interesting for you,” she says. “Then you will understand why they called me Lou-Lou and Gagner.”
But Gagner is her adopted mother’s name. There’s another reason? And how much does she already know? What’s the role of my ‘research’? To collect extra proof of a trace of DNA and a typo?
It’s time to go. I stand up.
“I’ll go as fast as I can and bring back what I find.”
“Thank you, Tiggy.”
When I look for Raider, he’s sitting in the corner at PC Love’s feet. She accompanies us to the back door of the station.
In the car, I phone Anita Blaine hoping she hasn’t got a spy in the inner sanctums at the police station.
“I have no new information,” she says.
“I’m digging into old murders to get ideas for Piper’s cold case. I need author access to the Echo’s archive.”
“OK. I’ll set that up. And don’t think I’m not noticing that the favours are all flowing in one direction at the moment.”
“Thank you, Anita. You’re a star. And one more thing.” I’ve had a thought. “Are there any old crime reporters from thirty years ago who are still around and might be happy to have their memories tapped?”
“If you want old, Perry Windermere is long retired but still sharp. He was old when I started as a cadet and I went around with him a few times to report on crime. Decided general news and social happenings were more my thing but I still do crime if we’re short-staffed. I visit Perry occasionally. Good bloke. If I let him know you’re going to visit, make sure you do.”
She gives me the name of a retirement village near Exmouth.
“Thank you. I’ll definitely contact him.”
“Make it a time before midday. And take the dog.”