All Passion Spent - Bergotte (pdf e book reader .txt) 📗

/> “They all met when the children were teenagers and someone was carrying out some research experiment on identical twins. It was to do with… oh, I forget now.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Gerrard.
“Rita did explain it to me. Ah, I remember now. Because identical twins look the same does not mean that they have the same character. I can tell you that myself, without any research, just from my own experience. You couldn’t have more different people than Paul and Michael, or Bella and Rita. It was a psycho… something investigation.”
“A psychological investigation… Now, returning to our investigation,” said Gerrard, “were you aware that Laura Fellingham never returned here on Saturday night?”
“No, I wasn’t,” replied the woman, rather stiffly, “if I had been aware I would have phoned the police straight away, I can tell you.”
“When did you know that she had not returned?”
“When I came this morning. I’ve got my own key and I let myself in but I always ring the bell so she knows I’m coming into the house, it’s only polite.”
“And this morning she wasn’t here?”
“That’s right and then as soon as I’d taken my coat off I heard the phone ring. I don’t normally answer it but I did this morning. It was Bella, you know, Isabella, ringing to find out what had happened to her mother. She’d been phoning the police since late on Saturday night. When I rang off I decided I would call 999, seeing the police had not answered Bella’s call, or at least, they couldn’t give her any information. I then went out and looked in the garage for her car, since it wasn’t parked in the road or on the drive. Her car wasn’t there. Of course, she could have gone off visiting someone, but if she does leave the house overnight she lets me know, so that I can keep an eye on things.”
“Did you know about her proposed meeting with her daughter on Saturday night?”
“No, that must have been family business. I never heard anything about it.”
“Did you see her go out on Saturday evening?”
“No, I wasn’t here myself. I was visiting my daughter in Trowbridge.”
“What kind of car did Mrs Fellingham drive?”
“I think it was a BMW.”
“Do you know the registration number?”
“No, but there’s a notice-board up in the kitchen with various bits and pieces pinned to it. I did see that there was a letter from the garage concerning a car service that she had had done. The registration number is probably on that.”
“Thanks very much,” said Gerrard, as Anna got up to look. She found the number and wrote it down. Gerrard could hear her calling it in to the station to see if the car had been found. In a few minutes she returned. “A parked BMW has been found in Sydney Place,” she announced.

“Do you think I could have a quick look round the house?” Gerrard asked Mrs Smith.
“There’s no reason why not, as far as I can see,” she replied. Gerrard left the two women to talk while he toured through Laura Fellingham’s home. He noticed the clean new kitchen and dining room. He looked briefly upstairs and poked his head round the door of each bedroom. He found his way downstairs once more and located a studio where what looked like fashion designs were done. He spent some time examining various articles. There were many clothes, materials and fabrics in a wide range of colours. Mrs Smith explained that Laura and Isabella Fellingham were in business together, as fashion designers. From what Mrs Smith told him, Gerrard gleaned enough information to understand that Isabella was the young person with the ideas and drawing skills to put down her ideas on paper whilst her mother was the business brains behind the commercial operation. They sold their merchandise, once it had been made up, to small, exclusive, shops in Bath.

After a few more brief words the two police officers took their leave. Mrs Smith had closed the front door and returned to the sitting room when the telephone rang. It was Isabella, saying she was going to call round later on. “I’ll still be here,” said Sandra Smith, “I’ll see you soon.”

On their way back to the city Anna said, “Laura Fellingham probably parked in Sydney Place, opposite the side entrance to the Gardens, and was hit by a car as she tried to cross the road.”
“That seems the most likely explanation,” commented Gerrard. “I asked uniform to make some house to house inquiries to find out if anybody saw anything. I’ll get them to concentrate on the buildings immediately opposite that entrance.”
“We have the ignition keys, found in her handbag, so we might get some more clues from the car itself,” added Anna.
“Yes, that’s possible. Let’s stop at Sydney Place and have a look at that car of Mrs Fellingham’s. It’s on our way.” Anna drove back the way they had come. They saw a dark coloured BMW parked opposite the Gardens’ entrance. Anna managed to park right behind it. They both got out and looked carefully at the car. There was no sign of any damage, so it had not been involved in a car accident. There were skid marks on the road and these had been marked by the police team sent to investigate the abandoned car. Anna looked at the parking ticket attached to the windscreen. “The traffic warden has paid a visit this morning,” she announced to Gerrard, “it’s probably been here since Saturday evening but nobody spotted it until the warden turned up this morning.”
“I don’t think we can do anything more here, but can you make sure that the car is towed away, following normal procedure?” “That should have been taken care of, sir,” said Anna, “but I’ll chase it up.” At the police station they both completed more paper work and finished for the day. “I’ll see you early tomorrow,” said Gerrard. Anna nodded in agreement. As she got up to leave, Anna said, “There’s one thing that puzzles me. If Isabella Fellingham and her mother are, or were, in business together, seeing each other on a daily basis, why would they need to meet in the open air on a Saturday night?” “That’s the question, isn’t it?” replied Gerrard, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Shortly after 4.00 p.m. Isabella’s car drew up outside her mother’s house and was noticed by the eagle-eyed Mrs Smith, who was replacing a vase on the window-sill after throwing away some dead flowers. She went to the door and opened it. “Hello,” she said, “how are you, dear?” “Not so bad, under the circumstances, thank you Sandra. I’ve called to see if my mother ever left any instructions in case of her death.” “Well, I’ve never seen anything, but if there is something it would be in the bureau I would think,” replied the neighbour. “I’ll have a look there then.” She went over to the bureau and pulled down the heavy lid.

After a few minutes search she found the address of the undertakers that Laura had used when Mr Fellingham had passed away. She decided to put a notice of death in the local newspaper and in the Daily Telegraph. The notice describing her stepfather’s death she had found in one of the bureau drawers. She decided to adapt it for her own use. After twenty minutes she had written out in her best handwriting: -

FELLINGHAM – Laura Ellen (née Woods) died suddenly and tragically in an accident at Bath, Somerset on 21st October 2006, aged 42 years. Beloved wife of Mr DAVID FELLINGHAM and much loved mother of Isabella and Margherita. No flowers, donations to Cancer Research UK. Inquiries to E.A. King & Son F/S. Tel. 01225 765856.

Then she thought about the funeral itself and decided that she would adopt the same procedure as she had done in the case of her stepfather. She was soon in contact with the rector of the parish church in Claverton. Her parents had both attended rather infrequently but they had attended.
“Hello, I’d like to make provisional arrangements for my mother’s funeral, Mrs Laura Fellingham, please,” she said. “My goodness, I didn’t know that she had died.”
“We only found out ourselves today.”
“What happened to her? Was it a sudden illness?”
“No, nothing like that… a motor car accident.”
“I’m very sorry to hear of it. Please accept my condolences and send my good wishes to the rest of your family.”
“I will,” replied Bella.
“When would you like the funeral to take place?”
“Next Monday on October 30th, if that is at all convenient.”
“It will have to be late morning, I’m afraid. I’m taking a school assembly at 9.00 a.m. I could manage 11.45, if that’s any good.”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
“Is it a cremation or a burial?”
“Cremation.”
“Well, obviously we will have to book the crematorium. Would you like me to do that?”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“I’ll phone you when I have some news.” Isabella gave the rector her mobile number and rang off. She said goodbye to Sandra Smith and went on her way.

At home she rang her sister and brother in law. Rita answered. Bella told her what she had done that afternoon.
“You didn’t consult the rest of us. Don’t I have a say?”
“I remember that I took charge of all the arrangements when our stepfather died. So, I’m taking charge now.” Rita heard her husband pick up the phone in the bedroom. “There’s no need for you to talk to her, Michael,” Rita said.
“But I want to… Bella… thank you very much for taking the initiative. It’s very helpful of you.”

He heard Rita putting down her receiver.
“Has she gone?” asked Bella.
“Yes.”
“Good. I’m not getting on with my sister at the moment,” she confessed.
“It’s not surprising is it?”
“Well, c’est la vie,” replied Bella breezily, “I don’t think I’m doing wrong. I’d better go. I’ll see you later.” They said their goodbyes and rang off, Michael dreading what Rita was going to say to him. In fact, she said nothing, her most powerful weapon against him.

Before he headed for home Gerrard recorded a short appeal for HTV describing the scene of the accident and appealing for witnesses to come forward. He emphasised how important the help and co-operation of the public in investigations of this kind was. “If you have any information, however trivial it may seem, that might help in this matter, please get in touch with us,” he said in solemn tones. His appeal, he was told, would be broadcast later that day as part of the evening news bulletin.


CHAPTER FOUR

Tuesday, October 24: morning

On the following morning, Gerrard sat with Anna Rossi in his office. “Let’s consider what we have learned so far,” began Gerrard. “We have a dead woman, whom we think was knocked down last Saturday evening, by a car, travelling perhaps at some speed, into the city, down the main road, past Sydney Gardens. There are two witnesses who found the body. This was not until Monday morning. We have no one as yet who actually saw the accident or incident or the murder if it was murder. We have some background information from Mrs Smith, the victim’s neighbour and nothing yet from the victim’s family. Furthermore, the victim’s daughter and son-in-law were not available for questioning when I tried to contact them last night.”
“We have not got much information have we sir?” asked Anna.