Read Judith Wants To Be Your Friend Online
Authors: Annie Weir
Judith hadn’t slept well so had got up and was in her office by seven-thirty. By eight-thirty she was glad that she had, as a couple of the local reporters were outside giving it one last try. If they’d done any investigative work they would have seen her car parked nearby, but as it was they hung around outside waiting for her to come in.
There were three phone messages asking for her to return people’s accounts as they wanted to find another accountant, and when the postman arrived he brought three more such requests.
‘Oh, you’re here,’ he said as he dropped off the bundle of envelopes. ‘There are people downstairs waiting for you.’
‘I’ve seen them. Don’t tell them I’m here. They’ll get cold and go away soon.’
He hesitated, as if debating whether to say anything, but decided against it. It was none of his business; that much he had learned since becoming a postie.
Louise sat in the police interviewing room. DS Doggart had hugged her when she picked her up and squeezed her hand as she handed her a glass of water, but once the interview started she was completely professional. It became clear to DI Gibson and DS Doggart that Louise considered Judith to be the cause of her friend’s death but she couldn’t tell them any more than the diaries or Judith herself.
‘Did Chloe consider coming to the police?’ DS Doggart asked gently.
‘I suggested it but she said no. What would you have done, anyway? There wasn’t much to go on.’
‘No, indeed,’ agreed DI Gibson.
‘Actually I blame myself.’
They looked at her and waited. They knew that guilt was often part of the grieving process and they let her speak before reassuring her.
‘I put the thought in her mind, you know, that Judith Dillon is a bit weird.’
‘How did she react when you said that?’
‘Dismissed it, really. It was later that she noticed it as well, but maybe she wouldn’t have if I hadn’t put the idea in her head in the first place.’
‘Maybe and maybe not, but if she is ‘weird’ as you put it, then it’s likely that she would.’
‘Judith seems to be alright on a business level, but personally you never know what she’s thinking or doing. She lies about her family, for a start.’
‘In what way?’
‘Pretending they’re all happy-happy, and stuff like that.’
‘Well, we all keep family secrets,’ said DS Doggart.
DI Gibson flashed her a look that said ‘keep to business, not chat’. She blushed, then continued, ‘Anyway, I don’t think you have anything to blame yourself for. We’ve read her diaries and she refers a lot to the support you gave. You were a good friend to her; no need to feel guilty at all.’
‘What do I do about her shop? Should I open it?’
‘No, not yet. We’ll need to contact her next of kin. Perhaps you could help us with that.’
‘Her father is still alive. He moved to Spain years ago, near Alicante. They’re not close and I haven’t got his address although I visited him with Chloe once. Her mum died soon after they moved.’
‘No doubt we’ll find the address in her house.’
DS Doggart drove Louise home and went in for a cup of tea but she was not able to get any more information. Louise just kept saying the same things over and over again. It was looking more and more like an accident.
Fiona came back from shopping, dumped the bags on the kitchen floor and reached for her anxiety pills. Rosie appeared, looking as though she had just got out of bed.
‘Been shopping?’ Rosie asked unnecessarily, then noticed what Fiona was doing. ‘Why are you taking one of them? I thought you’d stopped.’
‘You’d want one as well if you’d been with me.’
‘What happened? Why aren’t you visiting Granny? Has Tina banned you as well?’
‘I couldn’t face it. The comments I’ve heard about Judith are unbelievable. Some people are saying that she pushed Chloe under that train. Why would they say that? There were the pictures in the paper, for a start, but even so.’
‘Didn’t you tell them? Who was saying it anyway? People you know?’
‘Yes, a couple, but most people I know were full of pity or embarrassment. They didn’t know where to look. I felt guilty, and sorry for Judith, and really angry, and just plain embarrassed as well. It was horrible.’
Rosie put the kettle on in the universal gesture of making everything alright.
‘Anyway, what do you mean, banned from Mill View?’ said Fiona.
‘You know my friend Moira who works at Mill View at weekends? She phoned and said Judith had gone to see Granny yesterday and that Tina wouldn’t let her in. Something to do with the train driver’s sister being upset. She works there as well.’
‘Oh my God. I’ll have to phone her. Oh my God, the poor train driver. I hadn’t even thought about him.’
‘I was planning to go out tonight but I think I’ll stay in.’
‘It’s half-term, go out and enjoy yourself. None of your friends will be bothered.’
‘Tash will, you know Louise’s daughter. She never liked Judith and nor did her mum. Anyway, you don’t look like you should be left on your own.’
‘I’ll go round to Judith’s and drop you in town on my way.’
Judith wasn’t very forthcoming. She wanted to confide in Fiona about her financial situation but couldn’t bring herself to do it, so she drank wine and Fiona drank tea then Rosie called and said she was going home because Tash was talking about her to some others and making her feel uncomfortable. There didn’t seem to be anything Fiona could do for Judith, as usual, so she went to pick up Rosie.
Tuesday 17
th
February 2009
Judith got to work early again. It seemed to be the only way to avoid the eyes of Hexham. Two more phone messages, one from Stoneleigh wanting to take their business away and one from one of the applicants for the vacancy saying she was no longer interested in the job. She bundled up Stoneleigh’s file with her notes and copies of their tax returns and put it into a large envelope. She supposed she would have to go to the post office sometime, but then she had a better idea; she would drive out to Haltwhistle or even further away and post things there. She could shop somewhere else as well. She decided to let it all pile up then she would go to Carlisle on Saturday and make a day of it. She would be anonymous there.
The postman arrived.
‘Not much for you today,’ he said, trying to sound chatty but realising it was probably the wrong thing to say. Judith nodded but didn’t reply.
There was another letter from Henry Lloyd’s solicitor making enquiries as to the nature of Judith’s last visit to Henry the day before the cheque was presented for payment.
Sod them
, she thought and shredded the letter. Half an hour later he phoned and asked the same question. She told him in no uncertain terms that she didn’t know anything about a cheque made payable to HMRC and that she would appreciate being left alone to grieve for her friend. She decided that attack may yet be the best form of defence.
‘HMRC?’ he said, ‘Did I mention that it was made payable to HMRC?’
‘Yes you did,’ said Judith, then suddenly unsure, ‘last time.’
‘I see. So you don’t know anything about it?’
‘No I do not. Good day.’
Judith wished she had kept the letters instead of shredding them. She wasn’t actually sure whether he had mentioned HMRC before. Bugger! Her head was spinning with it all.
She opened another letter which contained a cheque for her tax overpayment. Some small mercy. Maybe she could open an account in a different bank and pay it in there, but would definitely need to go to a different town. She knew all the people in all the banks in Hexham and so decided to go to Carlisle on Friday instead of Saturday.
DS Doggart answered the phone and signalled to her boss that it was something interesting. She made notes as the caller spoke. DI Gibson read them over her shoulder.
‘That was Langdale’s Solicitors, Mr. Langdale himself. He wants to make some official enquiries about Judith Dillon’s financial transactions and those of a late client of hers.’
‘Well, well, well, very interesting. Let’s give him as much assistance as we can.’
They arrived in Judith’s office just before lunch time and escorted her back to the police station, this time to enquire about Henry Lloyd’s final meeting with her, and to ask about a mysterious payment.
They asked Judith to sit where she had done last time, and they went through the same process of cassette tapes and signatures.
‘What has this got to do with Chloe’s death?’ she asked.
‘I thought I had made that clear,’ said DI Gibson, ‘this concerns the death of Henry Lloyd.’
‘So it’s a completely different enquiry?’
‘Yes.’
Judith answered the questions in the same matter-of-fact way that she had answered the questions about Chloe. DS Doggart watched her face and her body language throughout. She noticed a slight clench of her hands when asked about her last meeting with him at Mill View; she noticed Judith’s cheeks redden slightly when DI Gibson asked for the third time about the cheque to HMRC. None of that would show up on the tape, of course, and DS Doggart said afterwards that she thought Judith was definitely hiding something this time.
‘I doubt it has anything to do with Chloe Parks’ death, though.’
‘No, me neither, but a juicy fraud case might make the town feel better.’
‘There is obviously a side to you that I haven’t seen yet,’ laughed DS Doggart.
‘Indeed,’ he replied, then apparently out of character again, ‘but you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.’
Friday 20
th
February 2009
Judith drove west along the A69 and reflected that nothing was likely to happen this day that was different to the last four. Thank God for the cheque. Once the mortgage and car payments went out next month there wouldn’t be much left for anything else. She knew she had so few clients left that she wouldn’t be able to meet the payments from then on. Getting right away from it all would help her think properly about it; to come up with a proper plan. She couldn’t think in Hexham. With her mobile switched off and no one knowing where she was going, she had taken with her everything she needed to open a bank account with the £6,000 from the Inland Revenue. Langdale’s were on to her, that much was clear, but it would be difficult for them to get access to her personal bank accounts and tax records. Henry had so much money when he died, they would probably write it off anyway. At least Martin Lloyd would be on her side. He would want everything to be sorted out and done with as quickly as possible.
Louise Holmes sat with a cup of tea. Tears ran down her face. She had just spoken to Chloe’s father in Spain. He wasn’t really well enough to travel but seemed determined to come back to Hexham for the funeral. Louise offered to make the arrangements on his behalf, which he accepted gratefully. She also told him that she would pick him up from the airport; well she had nothing else to do now. Tash came into the kitchen and hugged her mother.
‘Is he coming back?’
‘Yes. I’ll pick him up from Newcastle on Wednesday then he’ll have all day Thursday to rest before the funeral on Friday.’
‘Will
she
be coming to the funeral?’
‘I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Rosie?’
‘I haven’t spoken to her.’
‘No, I suppose you haven’t seen her, with it being half-term. Why don’t you give her a call?’
‘I have seen her, the other night, but I didn’t
speak
to her. I don’t want people to think I’m on their side.’
‘Tash! That’s not fair. It’s not Rosie’s fault.’
‘Judith’s her auntie. Everyone knows she’s weird. I don’t want to be, you know,
associated
in any way.’
‘Stop that right now.’ For the first time in over a week, Louise thought about someone other than herself.
‘Mam, y
ou
said she was a weirdo as well.’
‘Not in public, I didn’t, and I don’t want you saying it either. What we say here is between us. I certainly don’t want you telling anyone else that’s what I said.’
The look on Tash’s face gave away the fact that she’d already told all her friends.
‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ she said, ‘everyone else is saying it too.’
‘It’s not fair on Rosie and her mam. They’re lovely; and this is turning into some old fashioned witch hunt. We’ll be running the family out of town soon. It has to stop.’
Tash shrugged and took her coffee up to her room. Ten minutes later she came back down.
‘I called Rosie. I have been mean to her lately and I’ve said sorry.’
Ivy Shipton sat on her son’s bed and rubbed his back. He had barely moved except to eat and go to the bathroom.
‘I’ve heard from the police,’ she said, ‘the funeral’s next Friday.’
He nodded.
‘Do you want to go?’
He nodded again. ‘I have to, Mam.’
‘We’ll come with you.’
Fiona went to visit her mother after lunch. She thought Rosie seemed a bit brighter, which was a relief. Teenage girls could be quite cruel to each other. If Tash was making a point of being her friend, then others would soon follow.
Mill View was an ordeal, though. It was clear that the care staff blamed Judith for Chloe’s death and for the torment of the driver’s family and although they didn’t say anything to her directly, Fiona could feel their accusing eyes on her as she moved from one part of the building to another. Her mother ‘wasn’t very good’, to use their terminology, so she sat next to her in silence for nearly an hour. On the way out she stopped to speak to Tina.
‘Did you have to ban Judith?’ she asked. ‘She really is having a bad time with all this.’
‘Your sister is not the only one having a bad time,’ said Tina. ‘Look, I know it isn’t your fault, or Judith’s probably, but that’s the way it seems to Shelly Shipton. She’s a strong character and makes her feelings known. It’s best for Judith if she doesn’t come here, especially until after the funeral. And the last thing we want is for your mother to get wind of it.’