The exes, p.25
The Exes, page 25
‘Max Clancy is Emmanuel Pichois,’ Spencer says again.
‘The ages fit,’ Holly says.
The realisation sinks in that Max has been lying to them for months. Manipulating them all.
‘That’s why there was nothing on the internet about him. I thought it was strange,’ Holly says.
‘And his story about the wife doing him over was probably bullshit,’ Spencer says.
‘I doubt there was ever a wife,’ Holly says.
‘He targeted the house. He wanted to get in. And being a decorator gave him all the access he needed,’ James says.
‘Could Max have had a key?’ It’s Ray.
Holly looks at him for a moment, thinking back. ‘Oh it was me! I loaned him my keys one day. Ages ago. He wanted to move the bedroom furniture and I was at the bus stop.’
‘Dead easy to get copies cut.’
It hits her then. ‘He’s been getting into the house at night, while we slept,’ she says.
‘First thing we do is change the locks,’ Ray says.
‘Can I look at those pages?’ James asks.
She hands the sheaf of papers to him. Her hands are shaking, and she’s finding it hard to catch her breath. The image of Max creeping around Penumbra House at night, going into the bathroom, going into the kitchen, hiding, and waiting, fills her mind. Another chilling thought strikes her.
‘Do you remember the dead seagull, Ray?’
‘Yeah, I remember the dead seagull all right.’
‘It was when we had the scaffold up.’
‘Start of the year,’ Ray says.
‘He was watching the house before he approached James. He climbed the scaffold and left the dead seagull to frighten me,’ Holly says.
‘If he had a key, he could have done all those other things to frighten you. The rat and the tap on in the night,’ Spencer says.
‘He probably flung the brick through the window,’ James says.
‘I thought they must be connected. But what was his plan?’
‘To punish you,’ James says. ‘You had the house he thought he should have.’
‘The body under the tree,’ Ray says. ‘He’s a killer, right? Did he know you were planning to dig up the roots of the tree?’
‘Yes! He asked me about the fig tree.’
Spencer looks at Ray. ‘He came here to cover his tracks?’
‘He knew about the body because he put it there,’ Ray says.
‘Of course. He had to get the body away before the roots of the tree were examined, and your trip to Norfolk gave him the opportunity,’ James says. ‘And I think he was building up to something even worse. I think Barry saved your life by exposing Max. The man is a killer, and you were next.’
Holly goes pale, and Spencer shoots James an angry look.
‘He must hate me so much and want me dead.’ Her voice shakes. ‘It’s been a slow torture for months. I felt I was losing my mind.’
James has been flicking through the journal pages. He tidies them into a neat pile and puts them on the coffee table. ‘Incredible.’
‘He was a deeply disturbed and cruel child,’ she says.
‘What do we do now? The police have his details but he’s still out there, somewhere,’ James says.
‘But they don’t have his details do they. They think he’s Max Clancy,’ Spencer says.
‘And they arrested Barry. Poor old Bazza,’ Ray adds.
Holly heads for the door. ‘I need to call the police.’
‘Wait, just a minute. I have a suggestion,’ Spencer says. ‘We change the locks today and until Max, sorry Emmanuel, is caught, the three of us take it in turns to keep guard. We don’t leave Holly alone in the house, ever.’
She looks at Spencer. ‘You think he’s coming back?’
James nods. ‘I think he will. You’re in danger as long as he’s on the run. The disinherited son. He thinks Penumbra House should be his.’
‘I’ll call the locksmith.’
They watch Ray tap on his phone. ‘Can you do it by close of play today? Tomorrow morning, then. First thing? Cheers, mate.’ He puts his phone in his pocket. ‘Locksmith will be here tomorrow at nine.’
‘Thanks, Ray,’ she says.
‘When are you going to tell Laura about her beloved Max,’ James asks.
‘Oh God! I must call her. He wouldn’t go to hers, would he? He’s a killer.’
‘You call Laura and I’ll call the police,’ Spencer says firmly.
Holly hurries out of the room.
Spencer turns to James. ‘Will you please go easy on the doom and gloom.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘This is bad enough without you laying it on with a trowel. Telling her she’s the next to be killed!’
‘She needs to know how bad things are. Trying to protect your girlfriend, are you?’
‘Stop being a prick, James,’ Spencer says.
Ray gets to his feet. ‘Focus. Who’s going to sort out this rota then?’
‘I’ll do that, and I’ll stay here today and tonight,’ Spencer says.
‘OK. I’ll do tomorrow,’ Ray says, and he leaves the house.
It is a difficult call with Laura. Holly gets through to her office and Laura starts by saying she can’t really talk. Holly tells her it’s urgent and she must listen. When she gets to the fact of the body in the garden and Max’s fake identity Laura stops her.
‘I’m taking the rest of this call outside.’
Holly hears her walk across the office and down the stairs. Laura’s voice is tight with anxiety.
‘You’re saying he’s a killer.’
‘We think so. He was digging up the body. If he turns up do not let him in.’
‘Christ! I’ll bolt my doors and windows. Oh God…’
‘Any sign of him you call 999 at once. Then call me. OK?’
Laura exhales shakily.
‘OK, yes. I slept with him, Holly. I had sex with him. Sex with a killer.’
‘How could you have known? He took us all in.’
Ninety minutes later the doorbell rings and Spencer opens the door to two men. Holly is standing just behind him.
‘Spencer Penfold? You called us.’
They introduce themselves, Detective Nick Monkton, and his Sergeant Wayne Smith.
‘You have more information about Max Clancy?’ Nick Monkton asks.
‘Yes, we do, please come in.’ Spencer shows them into the sitting room.
‘I’m Holly Hilborne, the owner of the house. Can I get you anything?’
They turn down her offer of tea or coffee. ‘We’re working on identifying the body in the garden. We need any information you have,’ Nick Monkton says.
‘It’s not Barry Pumphrey you need to question about the body,’ Holly starts.
‘The man who was digging the hole went by the name Max Clancy and we think he put the body there and was trying to get it out. Then Barry disturbed him,’ Spencer explains.
‘Go on.’
‘And now we’re sure that Max Clancy’s real name is Emmanuel Pichois.’
‘He’s the son of my aunt Lillian Hilborne and her lover Jacques Pichois. They lived in Brittany,’ Holly adds.
‘Lived?’ Nick Monkton asks.
‘They’re both dead.’
‘You’re saying this man is a French national?’
‘Yes, but he’s been living here a long time. He was at university in Portsmouth. Hang on, let me check the dates.’
Holly flicks through the pages of Lillian’s journal, still lying on the coffee table, and finds the right entry.
‘At Portsmouth University probably from 1997.’
Nick Monkton looks at the pages in her hand. ‘What are those?’
‘From my aunt’s journal. They only came to light recently. That’s how we found out about him.’
‘Can I see them?’
She watches his face change expression as he scans the pages. ‘There’s more detail further on. My aunt was afraid of her son,’ she says.
He speed-reads the later pages as Holly and Spencer exchange glances.
‘We need to take these with us. We’ll make copies and return them to you.’
‘Of course. I think he wants to kill me too.’
‘Why does he want to kill you?’ Nick Monkton demands.
She nearly wails. ‘Because I inherited his mother’s house! This house. Don’t you see, he thinks this house should be his.’
‘He’s a very dangerous man,’ Spencer says. ‘Yet he comes over as charming and helpful. He got access to the house because he was painting it. Was here for weeks and none of us sensed anything was wrong. But now we’re keeping watch round the clock.’
Nick Monkton looks at Holly. ‘Does he have a key?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid he does,’ Holly says.
‘Change the locks at once.’
‘The locksmith is coming tomorrow first thing,’ Spencer says.
‘Do you have any photos of this man, Miss Hilborne?’
‘I took some photos of my sitting room, and he’s in one of those.’
She spools through the shots on her phone and finds the one she’d shown to Laura. ‘That’s him at the edge of the frame.’
‘Please send it to me.’
‘And I’ve got the number of my aunt’s solicitor in Rennes. He may know something. He’s English,’ Holly adds.
She finds the number and the sergeant writes it down.
‘Thank you. We’ll follow up on all this.’
They stand and Holly follows the two men into the hall.
‘Do you think he’s still in the country?’
‘He could still be in the country. There’ll be an officer in the garden for the foreseeable. We’ll be in touch as soon as we have anything. Please be vigilant.’
Spencer bolts the door behind the men and Holly leans against the wall.
‘They’re worried he’s on the loose. Don’t leave me,’ she says.
‘Not for a minute.’
That evening Holly puts two large potatoes in the oven to bake for their supper. She and Spencer look at the yellow and black tape stretched around the fig tree and surrounding area of the garden. They’ve been told they are not allowed to go anywhere near it as it’s a crime scene and evidence is still being collected.
‘To think there was a body buried there all the time. I know you’ll say I’m being fanciful, but I always felt there was something unhappy about the fig tree.’
‘You did.’
‘This will be the talk of the street.’
‘At least Hazel gets a major story for her newsletter.’
Holly grimaces.
‘Sorry, sorry, it’s far too serious to joke about,’ he says at once.
‘I hope they’ve un-arrested Barry. Unfair that they automatically thought that he was the villain.’
They eat the jacket potatoes with smoked salmon and salad.
‘Thank you for organising the meeting this morning. It’s such a relief to know I won’t be getting any more pages on my mat.’ She tries to smile.
‘But you’re still looking worried,’ he says.
She hesitates a moment before opening up and telling Spencer all the weird symptoms she’s been suffering since she moved into the house.
‘I’m worried there might be something wrong with me. With my head.’
He reaches for her hand.
‘I’m glad to be honest with you at last,’ she says. ‘I’ve been keeping too many secrets haven’t I.’
He nods, his face serious. ‘Tomorrow you make an appointment to see your doctor. How does it work here?’
‘You have to call at eight if you want an appointment that day.’
‘Please, Holly. Call them first thing. Tell them you need the full works: blood tests and allergy tests, X-rays, the lot, because you haven’t been well for weeks.’
‘The headaches are awful. But the dizziness is the worst. It frightens me. I shouldn’t have let it drift.’
‘Why did you let it drift?’ he asks gently.
She squeezes his hand, and her eyes fill with tears. ‘It’s my stupid fear. Dad died so suddenly.’
‘Oh, darling Holly.’
‘If it’s something sinister, I need to know.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
‘I need a hug,’ she says.
They stand, and she rests her head against his chest.
Later, when they get into bed, he holds her close, cuddles her and strokes her hair until she falls asleep.
Chapter Forty-Two
PENUMBRA HOUSE
* * *
When Holly wakes on Tuesday Spencer is gone from her bed. She is groggily aware he’s talking to someone in the kitchen. She needs to get up because she’s planning to do something. What is it? Call the surgery; that’s it. But it’s already after eight. She swings her legs out of the bed as Spencer comes in with a cup of tea.
‘I got through to your surgery, eventually. You’re booked in for an appointment at 12.15.’
‘You’re the best.’
‘We’ll walk down together.’
She takes the cup from him.
‘You get some work done. I’ll be fine. Ray will be here soon with the locksmith,’ she says as brightly as she can manage.
She knows Spencer does not like to be away from his painting for long. When he’s engrossed in a painting it gains momentum each day and he can’t wait to get back to his canvas. She thinks how lucky Spencer is to have something he can lose himself in.
Ray arrives at nine and the locksmith turns up five minutes later. He works on the front door first. Holly makes tea for them while he changes the lock on the kitchen door.
‘I’ll need four sets please,’ she says.
‘I’ve brought two sets. You’ll have to come down to the shop for more.’
He tests both sets of keys front and back and packs his tools away. Holly pays him in cash.
After he’s gone Ray hovers in the kitchen. It’s his day to be on vigil duty and he looks at a loss as to what to do.
‘Honestly, Ray, there’s no need for you to stay while Spencer is upstairs. We’ve got the new locks now so Max… Emmanuel can’t get in.’
‘OK. But give me a shout if you have the slightest concern. And keep the front and back doors locked.’
Just before noon Holly and Spencer walk down to the surgery, across the road from Preston Park. He points to a bench near the ancient elm.
‘I’ll wait for you here,’ he says.
Forty minutes later Holly joins him on the bench, giving him a thumbs up and an uneasy smile.
‘I’m all booked in for a battery of tests and they took some blood today. The doctor tried to reassure me; said they’ll find out what the trouble is. Thank you for making me do this. I should have gone ages ago.’
It’s a perfect July day and they sit for a while. The four-hundred-year-old elm is clothed in green, a miracle that a tree so ancient still puts forth buds and leaves.
‘I noticed your joy in the renovation stalled a while ago,’ Spencer says. ‘Actually, Laura noticed it before I did.’
‘I’ve been afraid for weeks that something malignant is growing in my head. It’s possible I might be quite ill, Spencer.’
In the surgery, as she listed her symptoms to the doctor, she thought how could she have been so stupid as to wait weeks before getting checked up. Will her delay prove fatal? Spencer puts his arm around her, pulls her to him and kisses her.
‘If it turns out there’s something wrong, they’ll know how to treat it. I’ll be with you every step of the way. Come on now, it’s time for tea and a jam donut at the Chalet café.’
‘Can I have lemon drizzle cake if they have it?’
‘It was always donuts before.’
In the afternoon Ray comes up and sits in Holly’s sitting room with a stack of bills and receipts, doing his accounts on an old calculator. He offers to spend the night on her sofa bed, but she tells him Spencer is staying the night, so around six o’clock Ray leaves.
Holly walks up to James’s floor. It’s Wednesday, his day to be on watch.
‘I need to go out and get two more sets of keys cut,’ she tells him.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘It’s not necessary, really. I’m sure you’ve got things to do.’
‘I have got a stack of admin.’
‘I’ll be fine. See you later.’
‘Keep your phone with you, Holly.’
She walks down to the key shop, glad to be alone if only for an hour. She appreciates what the men are doing to keep her safe but how long will they want to carry this on. Her fight with James over the doorbell has been eclipsed and seems trivial now.
The police haven’t found Max. Is he hiding somewhere close by, or has he headed for France? She finds it difficult to think of him as Emmanuel Pichois and keeps telling herself I have a cousin and he is a killer. It nags at her that the solicitor in Rennes must have known Lillian had a son. She knew something was amiss as she sat in his office. That strange look when he said Penumbra House was coming to her as the sole beneficiary. She should have trusted her instincts and asked more questions. How long ago that all seems. It is less than a year ago, only last autumn, yet the axis of her life has shifted forever.
In the afternoon Nick Monkton turns up again, without his sergeant, and joins her and James in the kitchen. Holly wishes he would let her make him a coffee as she is so agitated she needs to be doing something, anything. It is all the waiting which is so hard to take. But he turns down her offer of refreshments.
‘You’ve got some news for us?’ James asks.
‘I have. We’ve identified the remains in your garden. Georgina Arnold, a student at Portsmouth University. She was doing the same course as Emmanuel Pichois, and she disappeared in November 1999. She was twenty when she disappeared,’ Nick Monkton says.
The body which lay hidden under the fig tree all these years has a name at last.
