Impurity (DI Gardener 1)

Body Found in Rawston Flat

The identity of an elderly man whose body was discovered in a flat in Rawston last Friday has today been revealed by the West Yorkshire Police. Landlady Olive Bradshaw said, “The flat was occupied by Herbert Plum, last seen alive at 6:30 p.m.” A spokesman for CID said: “A post-mortem has been carried out by a Home Office Pathologist.” No other details are available. The police inquiry is continuing. No date to open an inquest has been fixed.

“That’s awful!” Jacqueline laid the paper on the table. “Well, perhaps now we have the right man on the case, we’ll see some results, and these people will get what they deserve.”

“They never get what they deserve. If the crime were left in the hands of God, the punishment would be just.” Anei rose from her seat and placed her cup on the draining board.

“All we have are the police. They are only human. Their hands are tied.”

“Yes, I know. I’m sure most of them feel the way we do. It’s worse for the police. They have to deal with the results. We only read about them.”

Jacqueline’s thoughts returned to Saturday morning in the cemetery. She had faith in Gardener. Whoever was responsible would be punished accordingly if he had anything to do with it. “I’m sure Stewart will do his best.”

“Stewart?”

Jacqueline smiled. “Oh, he’s just someone I know.”

“Sounds to me like you know him well. He’s the right man for the job, is he? And you know him well? Are you hiding something from me?”

“God forbid I should even try,” replied Jacqueline, a little flustered.

“You are my little girl. You came to live with me when your mother died, God bless her. There’s nothing I don’t know about you. You look different this morning. Brighter. There is a spring in your step. I heard you singing in the kitchen. Beautiful voice. You don’t need to tell me anymore.” Anei waved her hand in dismissal. “Come with me while I attend to my family. Tell me about this man, Stewart. If you want to.”

Jacqueline joined her aunt in the conservatory, which was connected to the kitchen. The only furniture in the glass-enforced room was a cane two-seater settee and a small heater. The furniture shared the space with a variety of plants and flowers. Anei Bâlcescu had a passion for nature. Jacqueline figured her aunt knew more about plants than anyone living. It was not uncommon for Anei to while away her evenings in the conservatory, surrounded, as she put it, by her ‘family’.

As she watered, the old lady continued their conversation. “You like him, no?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“It is to me. And why shouldn’t you? You’re a beautiful young woman. You’ve had a terrible life. Now you should take your pleasure. And if this policeman can provide it, then you have my blessing.”

“I’m afraid he doesn’t know how I feel. More to the point, I don’t know how he feels.”

“Tell him.” Anei’s reply was matter-of-fact.

“What about the church?”

“The church will not deny you your happiness. We all go through life missing out because we lose the nerve to simply ask. Or say what we mean.” Anei turned to face Jacqueline. “Don’t become one of those people.”

The minister knew there was a lot of truth in what her aunt said. It still wasn’t easy to tell someone your true feelings.

A sad expression crossed Anei’s face. “I myself must now practice what I preach. There is something I would like to do for Christmas. I know we are planning to spend the festive season together, but I would like us to go home, to Romania. Only for Christmas. To see my homeland. I have not seen it since I was a baby. I want you to see your heritage, too. My sister would have wanted this for us.”

Anei reached up towards the shelves circling the perimeter of the conservatory. To her pride and joy, her Venus flytraps. There were a dozen in total. As far as Jacqueline knew, Anei was the only person other than her late grandmother who knew the secret to cultivating the carnivorous plant all year round. In Anei’s eyes, no other plant compared.

Jacqueline hesitated before answering her aunt’s proposal. “If that’s what you want.”

Chapter Twenty

“Mrs Janet Soames?”

“Yes.”

Gardener could see very little of the woman save for a pair of accusing eyes staring through the small gap left by the safety chain between the door and its frame.

“Detective Inspector Stewart Gardener and Detective Sergeant Sean Reilly, Major Crime Team.” Gardener held out his warrant card for her inspection.

“Yes.”