‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ Jane asked.
‘I am a bit parched — that’d be very kind. Thank you.’
Jane closed the front door and turned to see Jason pointedly looking at where Eddie had pulled up the carpet.
‘I’m thinking of having the floors sanded,’ Jane said. ‘The kitchen’s just on your left.’
Jane followed him into the kitchen and was relieved to see that she must have closed the album in her hurry to answer the phone.
‘How do you take your tea?’
‘Builder’s tea for me. Even though I was brought up in Sydney, my mother used to brew a strong pot for my dad. She joked you could stand a spoon up in it. For her it was delicate Earl Grey in a porcelain cup and saucer. And she makes these little cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off.’
Even though he could clearly see that the photograph album was on the table, he made no reference to it.
‘Do sit down,’ Jane said. He pulled out a chair as he looked around the kitchen.
‘This looks like it could do with a makeover,’ he commented.
Jane laughed. ‘The truth is, I’ve just had one, with a new fridge and new sink unit. But I picked up some colour charts this afternoon as I can’t decide on a colour scheme for in here.’
‘White,’ Jason said. ‘Go with white... it always looks fresh. Strong colours tire easily. My mother goes in for flock wallpaper in bright colours and I have to say I think it’s a mistake.’
Jane remained standing, leaning against the sink as she sipped her tea.
‘I was wondering if it would be possible for me to speak with your mother?’
‘Why would you want to do that?’ he said, his smile growing brittle.
‘Well, the case is still ongoing, Mr Thorpe, and I feel that it would be helpful for me to be able to ask your mother a few pertinent questions. As your aunt, her sister, has dementia, she is obviously unable to assist in giving closure to the investigation.’
Jason had hardly touched his tea and she could tell he didn’t like her query.
‘I’m afraid, Detective Tennison, I will not encourage my mother to have any conversations regarding this tragic situation. You have to understand she is has not been well. It would be too distressing for her to even contemplate any involvement with your investigation.’
‘But perhaps she could help us understand how this baby was found in the shelter?’
He turned his head slowly to look at Jane. Although he had blue eyes, he hadn’t inherited the iciness of his Aunt Helena’s.
‘If you are implying that my mother had anything to do with this, I give you fair warning that I will take legal action for defamation. You have already overstepped your legal rights by taking my aunt’s personal photograph album from her care home. When I told my mother you had done so, it made her deeply distressed and she wants me to take the album to her for safekeeping.’
Jane ran her teacup under the tap.
‘I’m sorry if I have upset your mother in any way, Mr Thorpe, but the reality is this is a murder investigation and I am legally empowered to ask any question I feel relevant to my inquiry. As you can see, I have your album on the table. Perhaps I should mention that there are a number of mounts without any photographs and there are also numerous loose black-and-white photographs at the back of the album, which were not in any order. But I took great care and did not remove any photos.’
Jason rested his hand on the embossed cover of the album. ‘Perhaps, Detective Tennison... can I call you Jane?’
She gave a small nod. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Jane, the album is of great sentimental value because it shows a part of my mother’s childhood which abruptly ended when her beloved sister committed suicide. Their father was exceedingly strict and demanded from his daughters complete obedience. My mother fell in love with my father, but my grandfather refused to allow her to marry him. She had no option but to run away, as far as she possibly could.’
He now appeared more confident, leaning back in the chair and using his hands expressively.
‘I think Australia was the furthest possible place from her father she could find. The reason I now have to protect her is that she has had a very hard life. My father became sick and...’
Jason turned away as if it was too painful for him to continue. Then he took a deep breath.
‘My brother, Matthew, was born severely mentally challenged and my poor mother had to care for him as well as my father. Now, due to my success with my company, she can enjoy her later life.’
He stood up and shook Jane’s hand. ‘I think it will be beneficial to everyone if this investigation is closed. I will be returning home tomorrow.’ He picked up the album. ‘I know my mother will appreciate this.’
Jane followed him through the kitchen and couldn’t help but notice how beautifully tailored his casual jacket was. In fact, he was exceedingly well dressed from his fawn cord trousers to his silk shirt and heavy gold cufflinks. She kept her tone friendly.
‘I must say, that is a very nice jacket,’ she said, as they walked through the hall.
‘Yes, made for me by my father’s tailor in Savile Row. One wouldn’t trust any of the outfitters in Sydney.’
Jane smiled. ‘Well, I hope you have a safe journey. I understand that everything has now been cleared for the property to be demolished.’
He turned, halfway out of the door. ‘Yes, it’s a great relief, but I could do without all the sensational press attached to it. Thankfully, I no longer have any association with that house.’
‘Do you have a property here in London where you stay when you’re here?’
‘I have a small flat attached to my offices in Queen’s Gate Mews, but I usually stay at Claridge’s.’
Jane stood by the front door, watching as Jason Thorpe walked down her path, gingerly stepping over some of the detritus Eddie had left by the door. He had parked his BMW only a short distance from her own car, but she closed the door before he drove off.
She couldn’t quite fathom Jason Thorpe out. When he had first arrived he had seemed intent on accentuating his Australian accent. But when he had become defensive about his mother, he had sounded rather aristocratic. She had to concede that he was a very good-looking man, with his tan and his sun-bleached hair. However, there was something unsettling about him. To begin with he had been very pleasant, really laying on the charm, but that quickly evaporated when she mentioned wanting to talk to his mother and he had briefly become quite aggressive. It made her even more determined to find out what Beatrice Lanark knew.
Chapter Ten
DS Paul Lawrence was at home checking through his files as he wanted to clear any outstanding matters before he went on a week’s leave. He drew out the file labelled ‘Infant Mortality’ and reread the pathologist’s report, alongside his own notes. The words ‘belt — query’ had been underlined. He recalled his interaction with the mortician at the lab when he had complained about the missing cement slabs and placed a call into the lab to find out if there was an update on the whereabouts of the belt.
He was kept on hold for some time and was eventually told that the belt had been placed in a separate evidence box because there was some confusion about whether it actually belonged to the young female victim who had been discovered in the shelter. Lawrence sighed with frustration. He was aware that items sometimes went missing, but because he had filed a query about the belt, he wanted to follow it up. His request to collect the item was met with a rather disgruntled response and a muttered comment that it was almost five o’clock. But Lawrence remained adamant that he wanted access to the belt that afternoon, reminding the lab technician that due to their lack of professionalism the cement blocks had already been mislaid and he could still make a formal complaint. Eventually it was agreed that he would be met at the lab within half an hour.