Ann Cleeves - Hidden Depths

‘Sorry to ask you in before you’ve had time for supper,’ she said. She took time to settle herself, let papers fall out of her bag when she put it on the floor, picked it up again to search for a pen. ‘Still, this shouldn’t take long. Just a few things to clear up. You don’t mind if we tape the conversation? Standard procedure.’ She looked at him for the first time. He seemed composed enough. Ashworth had said he’d almost fallen apart when he’d seen the CSIs walking towards the cottage and that was one of the reasons why he’d brought him in. She introduced Holly and Calvert nodded, gave an insinuating smile which was enough to make your flesh crawl.

‘Did you attend an academic conference in York in January?’

He hadn’t been expecting the question and it threw him. She saw his mind racing. He’d been so careful, paid for everything by cash. How could they possibly know? Ashworth had been right. He had been Lily’s lover.

‘Dr Calvert?’ She kept her voice quiet, tentative. Then, when he still didn’t answer, ‘You do realize we’ll be able to check.’

He pulled his thoughts together. ‘I’m sorry, Inspector. Yes, I was there. I just can’t see the relevance to your enquiries of my giving a paper at a conference.’

‘You had a companion,’ she said. ‘Not at the conference, but in York.’

This time his response came more quickly. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘So my sins have found me out.’ He gave the smile which was supposed to be charming. ‘You must be able to understand why I lied about that, Inspector. I have a wonderful wife and family. So much to lose. I hoped I’d get away with it, that they wouldn’t have to be hurt.’

‘You were having an affair with Lily Marsh?’

‘Yes. At least, I’d had an affair. It was all over by the time of her death. But you can imagine the shock of seeing her body in the water. And of realizing that my son had known her.’

‘You can’t expect us to sympathize, Dr Calvert.’

‘No,’ he said quickly. ‘No. But I’m trying to explain why I handled the situation so badly, why I wasn’t entirely truthful.’

‘You weren’t truthful in any way. That has to end. I can’t consider your sensibilities when I’m investigating a murder. Two murders.’ She realized she sounded like a Sunday school teacher, but he seemed to respond.

‘I really don’t know anything about the first murder,’ he said. ‘Luke Armstrong. I’d never met him.’

‘You had heard of him, though. Gary Wright had fallen for his mother. He was talking about it in the pub after the last Bird Club meeting.’

‘Was he?’ Calvert seemed genuinely confused. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t have been listening. Some things had been said at the meeting to which I took exception. A criticism of an article I’d written in last month’s Birding World. I suppose it seems trivial now, but I was preoccupied.’

‘Tell me about the affair with Lily. How did you meet her?’

‘Quite by chance last summer. I went into the shop where she worked to buy a birthday present for Felicity. It’s an awkward situation for a man. What do we know about women’s clothes? She was very helpful. We talked briefly and she explained she was a student. Then I saw her at the university, bought her a coffee to thank her. At that point there was nothing more to it than that. I couldn’t believe she’d be interested in someone like me. I suppose I was flattered, a foolish old man.’

‘You gave her money?’

‘Yes, something towards her rent. Her parents couldn’t help out. My daughters had finished university. I suppose I wanted to make a gesture. Do something generous. I expect you think I was naive, that she was only going out with me for the money.’

Vera didn’t answer that. It wasn’t her job to reassure him. She didn’t believe it was true, though. Lily had been an obsessive. Money hadn’t been the object of her desire.

‘So you started seeing her. Where did you meet?’

There was a slight hesitation. ‘This does sound so squalid. Afternoons in cheap hotels. Occasionally in her flat when she knew her friends were away. At first I suppose the secrecy was part of the excitement. Later it all became rather unsatisfactory.’

‘Did she ever come to your house?’

‘Not to the house, no. That would have seemed quite wrong.’

She picked up the precise wording, the slight hesitation. ‘Not to the house. But to the cottage?’

He hesitated again. ‘Yes, we met in the cottage. A few times. When Felicity was at a concert or the theatre and James was staying with a friend. Lily loved it there. I found it a bit close to home. I could never quite relax.’

He was lost in thought and for the first time Vera did feel a small moment of understanding. Was he remembering a specific evening? Winter, perhaps, frost on the grass in the meadow and a fire lit in the grate. But never really enjoying it, listening out for a car on the drive, the danger of interruption.

‘Did she have a key to the cottage?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I had one cut for her. She never gave it back.’

‘Who ended the relationship?’ The question was peremptory. She couldn’t allow herself sympathy here.

‘Neither of us. Not really. We just agreed that it had to end. Before it became general knowledge.’

‘That wouldn’t matter to Lily, would it? She wasn’t married after all. What would she have to lose?’

‘She must have seen that the relationship wasn’t going anywhere. I suppose she wanted all the things her friends had – a shared home, real companionship, a family eventually. She was very fond of children. I’d never have been able to give her that.’

It sounded very plausible. But Lily Marsh hadn’t been like her friends.

‘Why do you think she turned up to look at the cottage? If your relationship had ended amicably, it seems an odd thing to do.’

‘Perhaps she was struck by the coincidence of having James in her class and came to look at the cottage for old times’ sake. She might even have seen it as a weird kind of practical joke. She’d expect Felicity to tell me she’d been.’

‘Was it coincidence, having James in her class?’

‘Of course. What else would it have been?’

She arranged it, Vera thought. She was obsessed by you in the same way as she was obsessed by Ben Craven. She found out where James went to school and she asked Annie Slater for a placement in Hepworth. She got to know the boy, orchestrated the visit to look at the cottage. Why? To put pressure on him? A form of blackmail? They sat for a moment in silence. Calvert seemed preoccupied, but not anxious. Was he so arrogant that he believed he could get away with murder? In the end he broke the silence.

‘You are looking for the same person for both murders?’

‘That’s the theory we’re working on just now.’ She wasn’t going to commit herself further than that. They’d kept the details of the Armstrong crime scene out of the press, but word got out. Friends and family talked. Police and CSIs were only human. A good story was for sharing. She couldn’t rule out the possibility that Lily’s death had been a copy-cat killing. Someone wanted her dead and had used the details of Luke’s murder to muddy the water. The phrase stuck in her head. Muddy the water. She supposed it was apt.

‘I couldn’t have killed the boy. I was looking at the notes on my book. I made a phone call on Wednesday night. Ten-thirty. A detail I needed to check with a friend. There’ll be a record, I presume, on my phone bill. It was a long call to a mobile.’

Vera didn’t answer immediately and Holly spoke for the first time. ‘That’s very convenient, Dr Calvert. What a shame you didn’t mention it before. We’ll need to talk to your friend, of course. Otherwise the call could have been made by anyone in your house.’