‘She would never have killed herself.’
‘How do you know?’
‘She was too smart. She had her life together. Despite…’
‘Despite what? Who?’
Tina didn’t answer at first, her breathing harsh down the line. Then, ‘If you won’t find out what happened, I will,’ and she hung up.
Kathy turned back to her files, trying to concentrate, and was immediately interrupted by another phone call- it was a man’s voice, a Scot.
‘It’s Donald Fotheringham, Inspector. We spoke on the telephone last Wednesday, if you remember, when you called Bessie Wardlaw, Marion Summer’s auntie.’
The minister, Kathy recalled. ‘Ah yes, Mr Fotheringham. How is Mrs Wardlaw?’
‘Awfy frail, I’m afraid, and quite distraught over Marion’s death. It’s been in the Sunday Post, you know, and the Glasgow Herald. That’s why I’m here.’
‘Here?’
‘Aye, here in London. I came down on the sleeper. Bessie asked me to try to find out what really happened. She wanted me to speak to you in person. I hope that will be possible.’
‘Yes, yes of course. Where abouts are you, exactly?’
‘I’ve got myself a wee room in a hotel near Euston. I can hop on a bus and be with you any time you say. Maybe I could buy you lunch. Would it be too dreadful to suggest a sandwich in St James’s Square?’
Beneath the sombre tones, Kathy thought she detected a little quiver of eagerness in the minister’s voice, as if he was finding his mission rather exciting.
‘That’ll be just fine. One o’clock?’
•
She spotted him straight away, a tall, rather gaunt figure standing alone beside the equestrian statue. He wasn’t wearing a dog collar, but she had the sense of a stranger in a strange land, taking it all in.
She introduced herself and he transferred a plastic bag to his left hand and they shook.
‘Good of you to see me,’ he said. ‘So this is the place…’
Kathy pointed to a bench. ‘That’s where she had lunch, and over there is the library where she collapsed afterwards.’ She pointed to the frontage of the London Library, shouldered into the corner of the square by its grander neighbours.
‘Ironic.’ He nodded at the figure on the prancing horse. ‘She told me once she hated King Billie. She hated the Orange lodges. I believe her father was a member of the number one lodge down in Kilwinning.’
They walked over to the bench and sat down. It was in full sun and felt warm, as if someone had just been sitting there. Kathy was surprised at how much more foliage there was on the trees after less than a week.
‘He left Marion and her mother when she was young, didn’t he?’ Kathy asked.
‘Aye, so Bessie told me. Marion was two. It shaped her life, I suppose, growing up with no father, and a mother whose parenting skills were… somewhat lacking, shall we say?’
‘Yes, I’ve met Sheena.’
‘How is she? Bessie wanted me to ask.’
‘Well enough. Works in a supermarket in Ealing. She still seems devoted to Keith Rafferty. Do you know him?’ She showed Fotheringham his picture.
‘No, I don’t believe he ever came up to Scotland. Tell me, that looks like one of those official police photos. Does he have a record?’
‘He does.’
‘Ah. Bessie suspected as much. Sheena was a bit evasive about her husband’s background.’ He seemed about to say more, then changed his mind and reached into his carrier bag. ‘I got one smoked salmon sandwich and a vegetarian one. And two different cans of pop. Please take your pick. I’m happy with either.’
‘I was glad you were there when I phoned Bessie. I’m afraid I gave her a shock.’
‘Och, she’s coping, but she’s had heart problems and has to be careful. Very upset about Marion, of course, but she doesn’t show much on the surface. Quite the opposite of her younger sister.’
‘Bessie was very attached to Marion.’
‘Oh aye. Mind you, it wasnae all plain sailing. She took Marion out of shame at how Sheena had neglected her, and there were some stormy times when the girl moved in, I can tell you. Marion was out of control, and it took all of Bessie’s willpower to bring some discipline into her life.’
Out of control. It was a phrase that seemed at odds with the picture Kathy had of Marion. ‘Had she been abused?’
Fotheringham hesitated. ‘I wouldnae put it quite like that. But she couldnae stay at that school, not after what happened.’
Kathy raised an eyebrow and the minister sighed. ‘I don’t like to rake up these old stories, now that Marion has so tragically passed away. She was a different person then-wilful, headstrong. She formed a passionate attachment to one of the male teachers. We were never sure exactly how it was reciprocated, if at all, but one night she painted their two names in huge letters across the front of the main school building, with an obscene word between. You can imagine the mothers dropping their bairns off the next morning and seeing it. It was all around the town in minutes. Marion was fourteen years old. The teacher was suspended, his wife left him, and two weeks later he hanged himself.’
‘Really?’ Kathy tried to square this with the picture she’d formed of Marion.
‘I don’t want to make her sound like a monster. The truth of what happened at the school was never established, and she could be a delightful person, and intelligent, very intelligent. But sometimes, if she was thwarted, a darker side took over. There were times I feared for Bessie after she moved in with her. The neighbours used to tell me about the terrible rows they had. Then finally she seemed to settle down. She made friends with some sensible girls at her new school, and applied herself to her studies. We were very proud of her when she got the scholarship to London. It was the reward for all Bessie’s efforts. And now this. To be the victim of such a thing.’ He shook his head sadly.
‘Mr Fotheringham, I should tell you that new information has come to light which suggests that Marion may not have been murdered.’
‘What?’
‘After some difficulty we found the house where she was living. And inside we discovered evidence that she herself prepared the poisoned juice that she drank here, on this bench.’
The man’s mouth dropped open. ‘You’re not suggesting suicide?’
‘That’s the way it looks.’
‘Oh dear. That’s terrible. Such a death. And so public. Would it have been painful?’
‘Yes.’
‘There was a spell, in her late teens… Bessie discovered that she was cutting herself. But we thought she’d got over that.’
They sat in silence for a while as Fotheringham digested this. Then he said, ‘You had difficulty finding her house, you say? Surely Sheena could have helped you there?’
‘No, it seems Marion moved from the student flats where she was living three months ago, and didn’t tell her mother.’
‘That’s strange, is it not? Why would she do that?’
‘We don’t know. We wondered if she was hiding from someone.’
‘Who?’
Kathy shrugged. ‘We considered her stepfather, Keith, but didn’t find any real evidence.’
Fotheringham’s eyes narrowed at her equivocal phrase. ‘I should pay Sheena a visit while I’m here. She was never one of my flock, but Bessie would expect it of me.’
‘Well if you bump into Keith, just be careful. He’s got a short fuse.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind. And what about her student friends-is there someone I might speak to? I’d like to be able to tell Bessie something of her life down here.’
‘There’s one, Tina Flowers, you could try. She’s taken Marion’s death hard, and refuses to believe she might have killed herself. It might help her to talk to you, too. I’ll contact her if you like, and give her your number.’
