Ann Cleeves - The Crow Trap

“Look,” Edie interrupted. “You’d better go. There’s nothing more to say.” He seemed about to argue but thought better of it, became instead concerned. “You know,” he said, “I’m very fond of Rachael. I’ve her best interests at heart. I wouldn’t want her disappointed.”

Edie let him go first up the stairs, turned to Vera and mimed being sick behind his back. As she came back into the room they heard his car roar into life and drive away. She banged around furiously, setting the table with cutlery and whatever she could find in the fridge. Vera waited until half a loaf, a pleated ball of silver foil with a smear of boursin inside, a lump of dried-up cheddar and a couple of slices of ham had appeared before speaking. Edie was by the sink, shaking a ready prepared salad from its plastic bag into a bowl.

“What was all that about?”

“He always was an arrogant little shit,” Edie said.

“What did he want?”

“He must have heard that Rachael was thinking of applying for another job. He asked me to persuade her to stay. If he gets the contract for the new nature reserve at Black Law he’s relying on her to manage it.

He’s scared he won’t be able to run the firm without her. He’s right.

He wouldn’t.”

“I suppose that’s quite flattering.”

“But it was the way that he did it. Do you know what he said? “She ought to realize that now’s probably not a good time. Prospective employers would be wary of taking on anyone who’s been linked to a murder inquiry” implying that Rachael might have had something to do with Grace’s death.”

Vera realized that Edie was close to tears. In the fridge she’d seen a bottle of wine, three-quarters full with the cork jammed back in. She took it out, poured each of them a glass, drank, winced and wondered how long it had been there.

“Why do you want to talk to me anyway?” Edie said, still angry. “You said you wanted to ask about Neville. If you come back this evening you can see Rachael. She’ll be able to tell you everything you want to hear.”

“I understand she’s besotted. That doesn’t do a lot for a person’s judgement.” “Who told you that?”

“Anne Preece. I went to Langholme to see her last night.”

“She’s still there then. I’m surprised. I thought she’d decided to leave.”

“Oh, she’s still there,” Vera said. “But she seems in a sort of limbo.

Waiting for something to happen. You haven’t any idea what she might be waiting for?”

“Some man perhaps. She’s very discreet but I gather it’s not a successful marriage. Still, how many are?”

Vera hacked a slice of bread from the loaf. “Well?” she demanded. “Is she?”

Edie, still preoccupied, looked up from her glass. “Is she what?”

“Is Rachael besotted?”

“Definitely. I haven’t seen her like this since she first started going out with that toad Peter Kemp.”

“I didn’t realize she’d been involved with him.” Vera’s voice was bland, vaguely curious, but her mind was whirring furiously. Another connection. Another complication.

“Before he was married. I never liked him. Perhaps that’s why she stuck with him so long. To spite me. I shouldn’t have made my feelings about him so plain. I could never manage tact with Rachael.”

“But she carried on working with him.”

“That was pride, I think. She didn’t want to be seen to be running away.”

“According to Rachael they’ve more work than they can handle. And he’s just given her a pay rise. To bribe her to stay, I suppose.”

“So he’s not short of money?”

Apparently not though I hear his wife has very expensive tastes.” Edie pulled a face. “Sorry, that was bitchy. I can’t help listening to gossip.”

“Nothing wrong with gossip, pet. It’s what my job’s all about. What else does the gossip say?”

“That he married her for her money then discovered she wasn’t as loaded as he thought. Daddy’s wealthy but not very generous.” Edie drank the last of her wine. “Rachael’s not been happy at Kemp Associates for a while. I suppose Grace’s death pushed her into looking actively for something else. There’s a research post for the RSPB which interests her. It would be based in Wales. I know she’s ready for a move but I’d miss her. Especially now. We’ve been getting on better lately.” Edie paused. “And she’d miss Neville. Perhaps that’s why she’s taking so long to decide whether or not to go for it. Secretly she’s waiting for him to sweep her away to Black Law so she can live with him happily ever after.”

“Is that likely?”

“God knows.”

“Perhaps that was what the scene with Peter was all about.”

“What do you mean?” Edie bristled again at the mention of Peter.

“That he’s still fond of Rachael and he doesn’t want to lose her to Neville. I suppose it’s even possible that they’ve been having an affair. If Peter’s not happy with his wife.”

“No!” Edie was horrified. “Rachael wouldn’t be so dumb. Not even as a way of getting back at me. And jealousy’s such a very human emotion.

I don’t think Peter Kemp’s capable of it.”

Neville might be though, Vera thought. But where does that take us?

“Did you know that Neville was planning to take Rachael to Black Law this weekend?”

“She has mentioned it. Once or twice. She’s like a kid who’s never been on holiday before.”

“And you’ve agreed?”

“It’s not my place to agree or disagree, is it? She’s an adult. Too old for a lecture on safe sex.” Edie looked at Vera thoughtfully across the table. “Unless there’s something you think I should know.

Even then I can hardly invite myself up there as a watchdog or chaperone this time.”

“No.” Vera refilled both glasses. “I suppose not. What do you make of Neville Furness?”

“I can see why Rachael’s attracted.” “Yes,” Vera said. “So can I.”

“I hope he’s not mucking her about.”

“Do you think he might be?”

“I don’t think so. I think perhaps he’s just very shy, very private.

He doesn’t give anything of himself away. I should be used to that in Rachael. I think I should trust her judgement.”

“Have you seen much of him?”

“He’s very much the gentleman. Whenever he calls to take her out he makes a point of letting me know where they’re going and what time he’ll be back. You know they’ve seen each other every day since we moved back to Kimmerston.”

“I had been keeping an eye on him. Discreetly. But after Edmund’s death we didn’t have the men to spare.”

“Do you know where he was on the afternoon Edmund Fulwell was killed?” “I know where he says he was. Of course we’ll check. Why?”

“He used to live in that house.”

“I know.”

“Should I persuade Rachael not to go with him at the weekend? She might listen to me. As I say, we’ve been getting on better lately.” “No,” Vera said quietly. “Don’t do that.”

“I’d not have her put in any danger.” “No,” Vera said. “Nor would I.”

Vera decided to call on the Waughs unannounced. Neville Furness had given her an excuse. She needed to check his alibi for the afternoon and evening of Edmund’s death and the Waughs’ house was on the way home. Almost. Even without the excuse she would have made the visit.

Anne Preece had roused her curiosity. She wanted to see the family together.

She had grown up with a rosy picture of conventional life and blamed the lack of it for the fact that she’d turned out such an awkward cow.

In her work though she’d hardly come across a great deal of domestic bliss and the. colleagues who played most at happy families were the ones she suspected of jumping into bed with anything that moved. Living a sham. Not Ashworth though. He was the exception. He restored her faith in her childhood dream.