friend.
‘She sounds a natural leader.’
‘Perhaps, though not in a heavy-handed way, more as a guiding light. She’d let you know when things displeased her. God, I’ll miss her.’
‘She leaves an impression.’
‘She leaves a mystery, Inspector. Now you’re her last best friend, you find it out.’
‘You’ve been very honest.’
‘So have you.’
And with that she entered her rooms, not to be followed.
Chapter 5 — Charlie Prove
As Grey mulled over those last words of Rachel Sowton’s, he remembered she admitting overhearing at least something of his conversation with Derek Waldron, and Derek’s talk of Grey’s knowing Stella better than anyone by the end of his investigation. It was almost as though these people who’d lived and worked with her for sixteen years — longer in Derek’s case — even after all this time needed an outsider to come in and explain their friend to them. That this was on the occasion of that friend’s demise seemed doubly sad; yet perhaps it could not have been any other way, and that as long as she retained that sharp and organized mind Ms Stella Dunbar would have held her secrets safe and undiscoverable. That there was anything extra to find out about her was only confirmed in the manner of her death, that someone somewhere hated something about her so lividly to want to end her days by crushing her neck in their hands; and perhaps also in the over-orderly manner of her life, the total absence of history, and in the little blue bear and man’s pocket watch buried so deeply within her personal possessions.
As Rachel Sowton had left through the door to her flat so Sergeant Smith now exited from the one beside it and which led to the dayroom; or rather came out only far enough to gesture to her boss to join her inside,
‘I didn’t think you were ever coming back.’
‘How are things in there?’ he asked.
‘Interesting, but not very much use to us, I’m afraid.’
‘What about Charlie Prove? Is he in there?’
‘That’s the worst news, sir: the doctor’s been back and has had to sedate him — he won’t be available to speak to till the morning.’
‘That is a pain. So,’ whispered Grey as they approached the dayroom’s entrance, ‘any contenders?’
‘But the view when they reached the slid-back double-doors answered the question for him, as he cast his eye not over the collection of aging dockers and brooding Suez veterans his imagination was throwing up as candidates for the heinous crime; but instead the kind of gentle, aged folk that might be suggested by their being able to afford to spend the autumn of their years in such comfortable surroundings. Indeed, the only pair of hands sturdy enough to have applied that hold to Stella Dunbar’s neck were owned by a particularly well-developed orderly who moved among the scattered chairs. The room, glass-walled and — roofed and cantilever-blinded was newer than the building it extended from and in its elegant furniture, perfumed air and views of wildlife in the garden was more Continental hotel than the Health Service waiting room he had half-expected.
‘Hello,’ Grey waved to the residents, as attention turned to his arrival. ‘I’m Inspector Rase, and I’m the senior investigative officer. I want to thank you all for giving statements to my colleagues, and to say how much we value your assistance at such a sensitive time.
There was a general murmuring of goodwill, before a man went to rise as if to speak.
‘Please don’t get up,’ said Grey as he and Cori moved over to him and sat down.
‘As I said to your delightful Sergeant here,’ the man’s eyes twinkling as he glanced at her, ‘I’m sure I speak for us all when I say how shocked we are at such an act occurring under our roof; poor Stella, who could ever have done such a thing?’
‘That’s what we hope to find out, sir.’
‘Carstairs,’ he announced and shook Grey’s hand.
‘Was Ms Dunbar’s flat near yours, sir?’
‘No; my wife has difficulty with the stairs, so we took one on the ground floor.’
‘Of course, you don’t have a lift. I don’t suppose you knew Stella before she lived here?’
‘No.’ He suddenly looked serious. ‘I don’t think any of us did.’
‘And how would you describe her to me, sir, as one who never knew her?’
‘A fine woman, but a stern one; brooked no nonsense, and she earned my respect all the more for that.’
‘Well, thank you again for your help,’ said Grey and went to rise.
‘Inspector, before you go, could you tell me: will you be putting a policeman here tonight?’
A new voice crept into his ear,
‘A lot of them are asking for it, Inspector; but as long as we don’t know why Stella was killed…’
Grey looked up to see it was the orderly who was talking to him, on her way past with a coffeepot in one hand and three stacked dirty bowls in the other.
He nodded, confident he could square the overnight posting of one Constable with the Superintendent.
‘You have their statements?’ he asked Cori as they stood to leave, she shaking a folderful of papers in response.
‘Come on, let’s get some space.’
They got as far as the car, where with the heater and map light on (for the afternoon was drawing in) they sat in silence; Grey finally speaking,
‘”We have nothing to fear but fear itself.’”
‘Sorry, sir?’
‘General MacArthur said that. It’s one of those terms you hear all the time but which I’ve never understood: like “self-parody” or “the exception that proves the rule”.’
‘I’m afraid you’ve lost me, sir.’
‘Sorry; it was just something Derek Waldron told me: that Stella vetoed any attempt to get that end flat sold, the one with the cheeseplants.’
Alone at last and with a moment to breath, they quickly caught each other up with all they’d learnt since the flat search.
‘So she blocked the sale?’ asked Cori.
‘Apparently she was terrified of who she’d get living next door, of they invading her corridor space; even when their Trust Committee vets new applicants.’
‘A fear response?’
‘Yes, when so much else about her suggests she was in complete control.’
Cori mused, ‘It’s interesting, you talking of her having a veto on what’s meant to be a committee — I got a definite impression from the residents that Stella was someone you’d look over your shoulder for before mentioning her name.’
‘Yes, definitely not one among equals.’
‘But I can understand her fear — I had a flat before I met Brough, and you can make it as homely as you like but you can never quite forget that you don’t own the building, that you can’t go far without sharing space with others and having to trust them. I love our house, I could never give it up now.’
‘In Paris whole families live in flats. They don’t even own them, don’t pass any property on to the kids. Still, this fear’s the only chink in Stella’s armour that we’ve found till now — we should bear that in mind.’
‘ Stella this, Stella that… you’re on first-name terms now?’
‘Sorry?’ he was still deep in thought.
‘You way you talk it’s almost like you knew her.’
‘After today I’m not sure I didn’t — you know both Derek Waldron and Rachel Sowton told me I was her friend now, as if her memory had been placed in my hands. Anyway, I think I’m beginning to take to our Stella Dunbar. I’ve always warmed to cold people; don’t ask me why. I think it’s an admiration for stoicism, the effort it takes.’
