He saw the inspector frown very slightly, but she didn’t speak.
‘Life’s very odd,’ he said. ‘I came here because there was a greenfield site to be developed. I looked at the plans, and I saw a stumbling block. The only possible routes to the development went through, in the one case, some very old and pretty woodland, and in the other, a farm called Bailey’s farm. So I did some asking around, and established that the woodland would meet with considerable opposition. But it was possible that the farmer might be prepared to part with his land, at a price, so I went to see him. That is, I, as the representative of MM Developments, went to see him. I doubt if the name seemed like anything other than coincidence to him. And I found myself looking at my son-in-law.’
Inspector Hill looked up from her notebook. ‘ Did you see your stepdaughter?’ she asked.
‘No. I asked to see her, but he said she didn’t want to see me. Physically barred my way. Got the shotgun when I tried getting physical back. I said that at least he could tell me how she was. And he said, ‘‘She’s never carried a live one full term yet’’ ’. Mike shook his head. He had thought he might manage this bit without feeling the impotent rage he had felt then, but back it came, just as strongly, just as overwhelmingly.
He took a moment to get himself together. ‘He might just as well have been talking about a sheepdog, and I – I just went for him. The shotgun went off, and people came running, dragged me off him, and kicked me out.’ He relit his cigar, inhaling some more of the strong smoke. ‘Margaret was just upstairs,’ he said. ‘ But she didn’t come down to see me, not even to ask about her mother. There was plenty of time when she could have come down, before it got heated, but she didn’t. And that hurt. It hurt me, and you can imagine what it did to Shirley.’
Again, a little frown. But the inspector didn’t speak.
‘She was sure that Margaret would come round, given time, that Hawthorne or Bailey or whatever he called himself had poisoned her mind against us because she was just a child when he took her away. She insisted that we move here to be close to her, but by the time we had arranged it, and sold our house, bought one here, Margaret had died. He hadn’t told me she was pregnant again. I’d had no idea that she was still trying. She was nearly forty.’
The inspector and Lloyd exchanged glances.
‘Do you blame the money?’ he said. ‘It wasn’t the money’s fault. It was Bailey’s greed for it that caused Margaret’s death.’
Lloyd looked round at the opulence of his surroundings, and nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m not much of a man for the Bible, but I think that the love of money is probably the root of all evil, as it says.’
‘I use it, Chief Inspector. I don’t worship it. Anyway, I didn’t realize any of that at the time. And Bailey seemed to go into some sort of mourning after Margaret died – he even made a suicide attempt. He didn’t plant the fields, he sold off a lot of his stock and machinery, he went into a sort of semi-retirement. I made a formal, written approach to him for his land, but I had no heart for the development project by then – I almost dropped out. Shirley and I went back north, and we were going to put this place on the market.’
Lloyd sat down beside the inspector, his elbows on the table, his chin on his clasped hands, and watched him as he spoke.
Mike tried not to feel self-conscious. ‘Meanwhile, I had had a private investigator on to him, to find out why he’d changed his name, and it turned out that it was required under his grandfather’s will. Bailey was his maternal grandfather, and Bailey’s mother had married some Yorkshire farmer that she’d met at a Young Farmers conference, and gone off to his place. The grandfather had wanted to found a dynasty, and had left everything to his grandson, providing he changed his name, farmed the land here, had a son of his own, made the same provision for him, and so on. That was when I realized why Margaret had died.’
Lloyd sighed. ‘I think I actually hate money,’ he said. ‘Maybe that’s why I spend it whenever I’ve got it.’
‘And she hadn’t been dead six months when we heard that Bailey had a new wife, and he was back on course to becoming a multimillionaire. I wasn’t going to let that happen if I could help it.’
Lloyd looked faintly baffled. Mike smiled briefly. ‘ Back to the Bible,’ he said. ‘An eye for an eye. He took Margaret from Shirley, and I was going to get that land off him if I could. So I made sure of the woodland, and met stern opposition from one Mrs Melville. I told her I’d made an offer to Bailey, sat back, and let the sparks fly.’
Inspector Hill smiled. ‘I hope you retired to a safe distance.’
‘You’ve met the lady? Well, then I learned that Bailey’s suicide attempt had not been because Margaret had died. His semi-retirement wasn’t because he had lost the will to carry on. It was because he had speculated and had lost every penny he had, and it had all come crashing down round his head on the day of her funeral. And I learned that he’d borrowed on a loan that made the land forfeit if he missed one payment.’
‘I’m glad I’m just a simple copper,’ said Lloyd.
Mike doubted that he was simple. He’d watched that programme about him, but it hadn’t convinced him of Lloyd’s stupidity, just of Curtis Law’s callow approach to life, which was infinitely more complex than Law gave it credit for.
‘I found out who had financed him, and one of my companies bought the loan. But he kept paying up,’ he went on, ‘in cash, paid into the company’s account, every month without fail. So I went to see him again, and I took some pleasure in telling him that it was me he was in hock to, that I was the one who would be repossessing his precious land the day he failed to make a payment.’
Again a look passed between his visitors. A faintly puzzled look this time. Mike thought that Lloyd was going to ask a question, but he didn’t, so he ploughed on.
‘But since he had shown no sign of failing to make the payments, I made him an offer that I really did believe he couldn’t refuse. Enough to clear his debts to me and everyone else, and still have money in the bank. Nothing like he would get from his grandfather’s will, of course, but a whole lot better than repossession. I thought he would
have
to sell to me. So did his new wife.’
He dropped his cigar on to the terrace, and stepped on it, smearing tobacco shreds and leaves over the pale pink stone.
‘I presume it’s Rachel who told you about Margaret, and I imagine she’s told you that I paid for her to abort the baby she was carrying.’
Lloyd nodded.
‘But he did refuse it. And he still managed to come up with the repayments. So then I tried to scare him out, give him cash-flow problems. Anything that might work. I even had his machinery vandalized.’
This time the look that passed between them was the baffled look he’d seen before, when he had been hunting through Hawthornes for Margaret. Perhaps he was as much of an obsessive as Bailey himself. Other people certainly seemed to think so. Even Shirley. But he had been doing it for her It had all been for her
‘So he put up his alarmed fences. And that’s when Rachel suggested the death threats.’
Lloyd’s eyebrows rose.
‘I thought she might not have told you that,’ said Mike.
‘What did she hope to accomplish by them?’ asked Lloyd.
‘She said it would frighten him to think that someone could get past his security, and that my offer might begin to seem more attractive to him if he thought his life was at risk. But …’ Mike shrugged. ‘ You tell me,’ he said. ‘ I think she was laying the groundwork for murder. Because she thought she would get even more money if Bailey was dead than if she gave him his son. But she was wrong, as she discovered.’
Lloyd looked even more puzzled. He got up from the table, and walked to the edge of the terrace, looking out at the immaculate garden. ‘Would it surprise you to know, Mr McQueen, that Rachel Bailey heard every word of that conversation you had with her husband?’ he asked.
Mike frowned. ‘But she was still trying to sell me that land yesterday morning,’ he said. ‘Why would she do that if she knew that it was already mine?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Lloyd, turning. ‘Perhaps she hoped to salvage something.’
And she had salvaged something, thought Mike. She had
still
been manipulating him, God damn it. He had been congratulating himself on putting one over on her, when all the time …
‘Why did you go to see Bernard Bailey on Sunday night, Mr McQueen?’ Lloyd asked.
‘It was over,’ said Mike. ‘Somehow, the payments kept coming, and unless I could make him sell to me right then, I was going to have to go through the wood. I wanted to have one last go. I was just going to up the offer, that’s all.’
‘Why did he let you in?’
‘He’d won. As soon as he saw it was me, he opened the gate. He wanted to tell me to my face that he had won. That he had hung on to the land. He said he would eventually get his grandfather’s money, too, because this one
could
give him a son, unlike that useless bitch he’d had off me. Those were his words, Chief Inspector. And I felt just as I had the day he wouldn’t let me see her. But I didn’t hit him this time. I told him that Rachel had no intention of giving him a son. That she had been colluding with me to send the death threats. That she had aborted the son she had been carrying. That he had been that close to his millions, and she had snatched them away.’
Inspector Hill stood up, walked a little way away.
‘I felt very guilty afterwards,’ said Mike, when she turned to look at him. ‘He was threatening to kill her, and I believed him. But as it turned out, I needn’t have worried. Rachel can take care of herself.’
‘Can she?’ she asked.
Mike shrugged. ‘She’s alive. He isn’t. Who else do you suppose killed him?’
‘How does this sound?’ asked Lloyd. ‘You go to Bailey, not to up the offer, but to kill him before he can make this month’s payment.’
Mike shook his head. ‘If Rachel Bailey overheard that conversation I had with her husband, then she can tell you that once Bailey was dead, I had no more interest in his land.’
Lloyd looked a little baffled again.
‘I didn’t want Bailey
dead
,’ said Mike. An eye for an eye, Chief Inspector. I wanted to concrete that place over in front of his greedy eyes. Bury it. Without remorse. Just like he buried Margaret. Rachel Bailey may not have known why I wanted to do that, but she knew that that was all I wanted to do. And I can never do it now, because he’s dead. I was the last person who wanted that, Chief Inspector. The very last. And Rachel Bailey knows it.’
Lloyd nodded briefly, and turned to go, but Inspector Hill turned back.
‘Mr McQueen,’ she said. ‘ Do you know Nicola Hutchins?’
Mike thought. The name was familiar, but he couldn’t quite … yes. He remembered now. ‘The vet,’ he said. ‘No. I’ve never met her.’
She came back, sat down again. ‘I don’t know of a tactful way to say this,’ she said. ‘Nicola Hutchins is Bernard Bailey’s daughter. Margaret’s daughter. The baby she was expecting when she married Bernard.’
Mike stared at her, shaking his head. ‘She’s my … my wife’s granddaughter?’ he said.
She nodded.
‘But – but why? Why would he tell me Margaret hadn’t carried a baby full term if she had?’
‘I think he’d be talking about boys,’ said the inspector, and stood up again. ‘I don’t think he counted Nicola.’
They left then, and Mike sat at Shirley’s rustic table, his chin resting on his hands, his mind racing. He had a granddaughter. Well – a step-granddaughter. She must be … must be twenty-five. He didn’t even know what she looked like. Like Margaret? Like Shirley? Like Bailey?
He smiled. It would be a
granddaughter
that he suddenly found he had. Another woman whose bidding he would do. He’d have to go and see her, work out how to introduce himself. He’d have to tell Shirley.
But first, he had another call to make, and an arrangement to cancel, and then he could prepare his introduction of himself to Nicola Hutchins. He drove up to the farmhouse to see Rachel sitting on the porch, unsurprised to see him, and got out of the car, walking up the steps towards her. ‘You set the police on me,’ he said.
She looked up, the sun sparkling in her eyes before she shaded them, and nodded. ‘ Just thought some things were better out in the open,’ she said.
‘You do realize that our arrangement won’t now be going ahead? I can’t trust you to keep private things private.’
‘Reckoned it might not. But I got a tenancy agreement. Legal and bindin’’.
‘For which you will now have to find the rent.’
She nodded again. ‘You let me worry’bout that,’ she said. ‘You’ve done more than enough for me already, Mr McQueen.’ She smiled. ‘No hard feelin’s?’
Mike looked round at the land he possessed and didn’t want, then back at the woman he still wanted and had been foolish to imagine he could ever possess, and shook his head. Then he saw Shirley’s sister’s girl coming out of the house. No, no, Shirley’s niece was years older than this girl. My God, it was her. It had to be.
‘You two know each other?’ Rachel asked.
‘No,’ Nicola Hutchins said. ‘I don’t think we’ve met.’
‘This is Mike McQueen,’ Rachel said, and rose. ‘This is Nicola Hutchins, Mr McQueen. Reckon I’ll leave you to get acquainted.’
Mike was thrown; he had had no time to prepare, no carefully constructed overture. Haltingly, inadequately, he explained who he was. The resemblance to her second cousin made him realize that Nicola Hutchins had a whole host of blood relations she knew nothing about, and it was hard for him to grasp, so how much harder must it be for her? How could Margaret have done that to her?
‘I tried to find you,’ she said. ‘Well – not you, exactly. I was trying to find someone called Bailey who had farmed in Yorkshire. I couldn’t really try to trace my mother’s family, because all I knew was her maiden name, and that she was from Newcastle originally, and her parents moved around a lot. I didn’t know what her fath what you did for a living.’
‘It wouldn’t have got you very far anyway,’ said Mike. ‘With her name being different from mine.’
‘No. But Bailey didn’t get me very far either. I must have telephoned every Bailey in Yorkshire.’