Lynda Plante - The Little One

‘A Mr Sullivan called twice, wanting to speak to you. As I had no idea where you were, I said I’d ring around to try and give you the news.’

‘Thank you.’ Her voice was hardly audible.

‘He wants to see you urgently, so you’d better ring him.’

‘Yes, of course. I will.’

After a long pause, Alan hung up. Barbara was certain he’d wanted to say more but was too upset.

She staggered to her feet and replaced the receiver. She was in such a state of shock that she wasn’t sure what to do. After searching in the pantry, she found a half-bottle of Scotch and poured herself a stiff drink.

When the phone rang yet again, it made her jump with nerves.

This time it was Mr Sullivan, requesting in a brusque tone that she come to see him as soon as possible. He said he was certain she knew what it was about. He hung up before she had time to question him further.

Barbara drained her glass of Scotch before driving to the station. There she sat in the freezing-cold waiting room until the next train to London left.

It wasn’t until she took her seat on the train that she thought about her initial meeting with the solicitor. She stared out of the window in horror as she realized that Margaret must have intended not to return to the manor house. Why else had she gone to such lengths to alter her will?

It was only now that Barbara digested the fact that she was to inherit the manor house.

Barbara took a taxi straight to Knightsbridge and Edward Sullivan ushered her into his office.

‘This is obviously a sad time. I am very distressed, especially having spent so long with Margaret yesterday morning. She gave me no indication of her intentions. Shocking, so shocking.’

‘Yes,’ Barbara said, her head bowed.

Mr Sullivan took out a white handkerchief and blew his nose loudly.

‘There will be an inquest, of course. I was questioned by the police.’

Barbara nodded.

‘They wanted to know when I’d last seen her. I had to confirm that Margaret had arranged yesterday’s meeting. I stressed that she displayed no emotional problems. To the contrary, she appeared very calm. In fact, she was very positive and clear about her intentions. Of course, I had to tell them about her changing her will.’

Barbara nodded again.

‘I also gave them your name as the main beneficiary.’

He hesitated, twisting a pen in his long bony fingers.

‘I will require some more signatures, Miss Hardy. Obviously, until the coroner’s report nothing can be forwarded to you with regard to your inheritance.’

Barbara was in a daze as she signed the papers. When he asked for her contact details, she didn’t know what to say.

‘Well, I was at the manor house last night.’

‘Until all this is sorted, perhaps you shouldn’t return... although I’m sure Margaret’s intentions were for you to live there on a permanent basis. We did read through her conditions for you to inherit, didn’t we?’

He looked at Barbara, who was so stupefied he asked if she needed a glass of water. She shook her head.

‘You signed the papers to say that you agreed to all her requests, yes?’

Barbara nodded, but her mind was a total blank. And when she left the office shortly afterwards she was at a loss where to go.

Part of her wanted to call Alan and Kevin, but she couldn’t stand the thought of being rejected. Instead, she decided to take a bus to their house. Gazing out of the window, she couldn’t help but notice newspaper stands displaying the terrible headlines:

By the time she rang Alan and Kevin’s doorbell she was crying for the first time since she’d been told about Margaret.

When Alan opened the door, she was sobbing.

‘Oh, Alan, please let me in. I’ve got nowhere else to go.’

Alan put his arm around her shoulders.

‘It’s all right. You can stay here.’

Kevin emerged from their kitchen as Alan closed the front door. He gave the distressed Barbara a cold look.

‘They’re showing all the old clips from the show on the news reports. I hope for your sake you didn’t have anything to do with her suicide.’

Barbara unpacked the few things she’d brought with her and lay down on the single bed. She’d made no mention of the will. There had been no opportunity as they sat watching the television news about Margaret. Alan had become very distressed and had broken down in tears.

At six o’clock she heard the doorbell ring. Shortly after, Alan knocked on the box-room door.

‘There are two police officers downstairs. They want to talk to you.’

Detective Inspector John Douglas introduced himself as Barbara entered the kitchen. A female detective, Angela Collins, was with him. She shook Barbara’s hand and they took their seats at the kitchen table. Alan and Kevin hovered and Barbara wished they would leave them in private.

She told the detectives everything she could about Margaret.

‘So you went back to the manor house yesterday evening?’ asked Douglas.

‘Yes. I just said so.’

‘Did anyone see you arrive?’

‘I suppose the ticket collector might remember seeing me.’

There was a pause and then Detective Inspector Douglas nodded to his companion, who continued.

‘So Miss Reynolds gave you permission to return there, did she?’

Barbara hesitated and then nodded. Alan glanced at Kevin, knowing this was not exactly true, as she’d tried to stay with them.

The female detective asked how Barbara thought Miss Reynolds appeared. ‘Did she seem distressed? Nervous? Show any signs that she intended to kill herself?’

‘No, she was very relaxed. She said she would be seeing her solicitor.’

Now Detective Inspector Douglas resumed. They knew from Mr Sullivan that she’d gone to his office that afternoon. Barbara nodded, glancing at Alan and Kevin.

‘Yes, I kept the appointment at three fifteen.’

‘Did you see Miss Reynolds after that meeting?’

‘No. I came here and then caught the seven fifteen train.’

‘So you never saw her again?’

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘You’re sure about that?’

‘Yes, I’m sure. In fact, I went there because I presumed that she’d returned home.’

‘She didn’t call you or try to get in touch with you?’

‘No.’

Detective Inspector Douglas then dropped his bombshell.

‘You see, Miss Hardy, we have to make certain that it was a tragic accident, or suicide, rather than murder.’

Barbara turned to Alan and back to the detectives.

‘I don’t understand. From the news, it seems she committed suicide. She jumped in front of the tube train, didn’t she?’

Neither detective replied. Instead, they studied their notebooks.

‘Was it not an accident, then?’ Barbara asked.

Without replying to her question, Detective Inspector Douglas asked Barbara if she had found a letter of any kind at the manor house. Barbara answered that she had not.

‘So, Miss Hardy, when Miss Reynolds was at the tube station in London, you were heading for the manor house?’

‘Yes.’

‘You were not at the tube station?’

‘No. I’ve already told you I was on the train.’

Detective Inspector Douglas snapped his notebook closed, as if the interview was over. But it wasn’t.

‘You see, we have to question anyone who might benefit from Miss Reynolds’s death.’

Alan and Kevin looked confused.

‘And you are Miss Reynolds’s main beneficiary.’

Alan’s jaw dropped.

‘What? She couldn’t be! She hardly knew her!’