“She cut her wrists after Faye died. She was depressed already, but with me in prison it was the final straw. It says death by misadventure on her death certificate. That’ll be at the house.”
“Faye?”
“Our little sister. She was run over.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Jimmy shrugged. “It was years ago. Water under the bridge.”
“So John was deemed a suicide? Like mother like son? I’m sorry if the question is upsetting but ‘no stone unturned’ as the Oracle of Delphi said.”
Jimmy frowned. “It wasn’t suicide. I’m certain.”
The kettle began to boil, filling the area around the stove with a cloud of stem. Meinwen grabbed a tea towel and lifted it to one side. It gave her a moment to think. Was Jimmy telling the truth? Probably. Was he keeping something from her? Certainly. Everyone kept their secrets but she always found them out. “Tea or coffee?”
“Er...tea, please. I went off coffee after the stuff they used to give us inside.”
“Rough, was it?”
“Tasted like dog’s piss.” He grinned. “Not that I’ve ever drunk dog’s piss to make the comparison, but you get the general idea.”
“I do.” Meinwen picked up the teapot. “Bramble leaf tea or apple?”
“What?”
“What tea would you like?”
“Haven’t you got any Tetley? Or PG even?”
“I might have a box of Red Label in here somewhere.” Meinwen put the pot down and opened a cupboard. “I generally keep some in for the odd occasion when an inspector calls. He won’t touch herbal tea. He calls it ‘dirt in a cup’ but then he can be a tad brusque.” She pulled out a battered cardboard box and gave it an experimental sniff. “Here we are. It doesn’t smell too musty.” She dropped a couple of bags in the pot and filled it with boiling water. “Would you get cups out? They’re in the cupboard behind you.”
“Aye, sure.” Jimmy stood, turning to gain access. “These ones with the roses on?”
“That’s right.” Meinwen watched the muscles in his torso shift as he reached for her best china. She took a deep breath and looked away, letting it out slowly as she filled a milk jug and put it on the table. “Do you take sugar?”
“Er...no. I’m fine.”
He certainly was, if you ignored the blue-ink prison tattoos. “Splendid. Sugar’s something else I only keep for the inspector and I think there are insects in the bag. Some people object to that. I expect I could pick them out if you wanted some.”
“No. You’re all right, thanks.”
“As you wish.” Meinwen set the pot of tea on a trivet and sat. “Now, if you grew up around here, why have you got such a disparate accent? Is it from prison?”
“Not entirely. I left Laverstone when I was eighteen and went to live in Huddersfield with a bird.” He shrugged. “Didn’t last, o’ course. By they time she jacked me in for a richer model I’d landed a decent job on the removals lorries.”
“Which gave you the inside knowledge for the burglaries?”
“Too right. See, we’d do jobs for all sorts of customers then every so often we’d move someone with a decent bucketful of antiques. We’d mark the boxes with ultraviolet ink while they were in the van and nip back the following night. In like shadows through a door or window we’d left open while we were moving the stuff in and out again with the goods. The stuff was on a container ship bound for Amsterdam or Düsseldorf before the punters woke up.”
“Until someone connected the dots. Recent house moves correlating with burglaries.”
“Yeah. We kept it to a minimum but every job was another nail in the coffin. We should have stopped while we were ahead.”
Meinwen picked up the teapot. “It might have been prudent.” She began to pour, the color of the tea matching the colors of the leaves around the edge of the china. “Milk?”
“Please.” Jimmy took the jug and tipped a little in, watching the pattern as the milk sank below the surface and returned, bringing a flush of lighter color with it.
Meinwen poured her own and set the pot down again. “So who’s this girl your brother fell in love with? The one he mentioned in his last letter?”
“I don’t rightly know. I spent the night going through his things but there’s no mention of her in the house.”
“What about a laptop?”
“I don’t think he had one.”
“A desktop then. He must have had some sort of computer. Everyone does.”
“I don’t.”
Meinwen smiled over the rim of her cup. “You have a valid excuse not to.”
“I suppose.” Jimmy took a notebook from his pocket. “I did find this. It’s a record of his bank account, maybe. It’s a bit odd.” He handed it over.
She glanced through it. “Not a bank, I don’t think. The deposits are too irregular. A hundred pounds here and two there. There are entries for several hundred every week, followed by a drop to nothing. Every time he accumulates a thousand he takes it all out and starts all over again. How curious. There’s no money in the house, I suppose?” She flicked through the pages. “This has been going on for years.”
“He never mentioned anything about making extra money on the side. I haven’t found any money in the house. Not in those sort of amounts, anyway. I haven’t looked in the loft, mind, though I’m sure the police have checked every inch up there.”
“Is that where he...”
“Aye. From a roofing beam apparently.”
“I can understand your reticence then.” Meinwen put her cup back on the saucer. The scrape of china punctuated an awkward silence.
Jimmy reached across for the book again. “What do you reckon then? Betting? Money laundering?” He sighed. “John wasn’t the type to take risks with the law.”
“Not with such exact amounts. It was more like he was saving for something or salting it away. He was on the straight and narrow, I take it?”
“As far as I know, aye. Happy as Larry in his letters. All loved up, like I said.”
“But you’ve no idea with whom?”
“No. If I was in love I’d be shouting it from the rooftops. John? He was a bit more circumspect. Stayed on at school to do his A levels and went to university. Whoever his girlfriend was he was keeping quiet about her.”
“Perhaps she was married?”
“Aye. Maybe so. That would be a motive for murder, wouldn’t it? If the husband found out. It’s not like John was a gigolo.” He grinned and shook his head. “I did find some nice suits in the house, mind. Not your average Marks and Sparks affairs.”
“It certainly sounds like your brother wasn’t a man likely to commit suicide.” Meinwen reached across for his cup and saucer, carrying both across to the sink. She returned for the teapot and stood, staring down at the notebook. “Can I hang on to this for a while?”
“Sure.” Jimmy pushed back his chair and stood. “You’ll take the case then?”
Meinwen cupped her chin in her hand, tapping her lips with the index finger. “Let me have a nose about and see what I turn up. There’s certainly something unusual going on but whether there’s enough to persuade the police to reopen the case is another matter.”