Faraway Eyes_A fast-paced romantic murder mystery Read online

  The year was 2007 and the time for the final exams was fast approaching, which also meant Nancy was about to return to New Zealand for good. Daniel had been renting a bedsit for months, a little haven for their lovemaking.

  “Don’t go, don’t leave me Danny.”

  He looked down at her naked body. Her breasts stood firm, he couldn’t resist and leaned over and ran his tongue over them again, before straightening up.

  “I have to go, I’ve got my last lecture of the year in two hours. Anyway, didn’t you say you had packing to do?”

  “Leave her, leave the witch and come with me. Dad wants to meet you to thank you for paying my tuition fees. You’ll love New Zealand, you could get a job eventually and we could get married.”

  “Wow, where’s all this coming from? We’ve never discussed living together let alone me moving to New Zealand or us getting married? Have you forgotten one important thing? I’m still married!”

  “Yes, but not happily, otherwise why are you fucking me? Come back to bed, I want you.”

  She reached out and stroked his manhood.

  “Stop it Nancy. Look what you’ve done to me, I’ll be late. You’re a very naughty girl.”

  “You’ll think about what I said?”

  “Yes, I’ll think about it,” he said, removing his trousers again. “Now roll over.”

  ***

  Polly hadn’t seen her husband for almost a week, as much as she hated the thought of losing him by challenging him over his affairs, enough was enough. It pained her to admit it, but he was making a fool of her, she could see that now. When he finally came through the door with a bag of washing, she plucked up courage and confronted him.

  “Isn’t it about time you got a washing machine in that study of yours, the amount of time you spend there? Or are you sleeping somewhere else, with someone else? Because you’re certainly not sleeping with me Dan!”

  He stood and took all her ranting and raving, before dumping his washing. Pulling clean clothes out of his wardrobe he stuffed them into a small rucksack.

  “I’ll be away on a field trip for a few days with my first years. When I get back we’ll talk, by then I hope you’ll have calmed down.”

  How dare he speak to her like that as if she had no reason to get upset? How dare he just walk away! Watching his car roar down the road, she grabbed up her keys and headed to the garage, her dander was up, she was going to sort this thing out once and for all.

  Arriving at the university, she parked her car in a visitors bay and was surprised to hear someone calling her name.

  “Polly, where’ve you been hiding, Georgy and I haven’t seen you and Dan for months.”

  Twisting around, she was confronted by a familiar face. “Brad! Yes, to be honest Dan’s been working so hard recently we’ve not had much time to socialise.”

  “We’ll have to rectify that, I’ll get Georgy to phone you to arrange something. So, what are you doing here?”

  “Dan’s leaving today on a field trip, he phoned and asked me to bring in some equipment he’s forgotten.”

  Bradley looked pensive. “I think you’ve got that wrong, the exams are on at the moment there’s no outside activities taking place until October.”

  So, Dan had lied to her, there was no field trip. She guessed he was spending time with his fancy piece.

  “You’re right, I’ll come clean.” She had to think quickly. “It’s a bit embarrassing really, I’ve over spent on my account and I wanted some cash from him before I go shopping.”

  “Oh, I know that feeling, you’d better get off then.”

  Arriving at reception she signed in and took the lift to the second floor. Standing outside Daniel’s study door, she knocked. No answer, she tried the handle, it was locked. Someone she recognised from his department was walking towards her.

  “Mrs. Brennan, are you looking for the Professor? Only I just spoke to him he said he was popping out and wouldn’t be back until later this afternoon.”

  “Thanks,” replied Polly, turning on her heals and rushing back to the lift.

  Reaching the ground floor, she was just in time to see Daniel’s car turning out of the car park. Jumping into her own vehicle she sped off after him. Three miles later he parked his car up in front of a row of terraced Edwardian houses. Stopping yards away, on the other side of the road, Polly watched as a young woman, in denim shorts, threw her arms around her husband before kissing him and then together they ascended the steep stone steps. Now she had seen him with her own eyes and knew she wouldn’t be able to forget the image. Gripping the steering wheel her head fell forward as tears flooded down her cheeks. Sitting up again, she dried her face with the back of her hand and restarted her engine.

  ***

  Filling two large suitcases with his clothes, she left a message on his phone, so he would have no doubt their marriage was over.

  ‘Dan, I followed you to the university, because I needed to continue the conversation we started before you ran out on me, and guess what? You weren’t bloody there. I know you’re not going on a field trip, you shit! I know you’ve been having affairs for years. I know you’re having one now, I’ve seen you together and it made me feel sick. Dan, you’re a bloody fool, she looks like a child! It’s over, you and me, I can’t take anymore and now I’ve seen you with your tart there’s nothing you can say that will change my mind. Your bags are packed, if you don’t pick them up tonight, they’ll be on the street by the morning, for all the neighbours to see.’

  ***

  How he hated her for pushing him away. Of course, that wasn’t really the case, it wasn’t her fault, but he had to justify his actions to himself somehow. If only she hadn’t found out about Nancy, things would have been different he would have stayed. He looked down at the sleeping woman with whom he’d shared a marital bed for over ten years. Picking up his suitcases he glanced around for the last time before closing their bedroom door.

  Chapter 9 – A Private Eye

  May 2017

  Most of us have a story to tell, which perhaps, has an impact on how we relate to others. After hearing Polly’s account of her turbulent life, before she came to live at The Old Rectory, Sam was beginning to see her in a different light. When Polly arrived to live with her and her family all those years ago, she appeared aloof, cold, now Sam understood the reason why. She’d been putting up a front to protect herself from further emotional upset.

  “I’m curious Polly, what made you decide to try and find Daniel? After all he’d been gone a long time. Did you want a divorce?”

  “To be honest divorce had crossed my mind several times, but never seriously. Then three years ago the police got in touch, because Dan’s family had asked them to trace him. His mother was terminally ill and the family were desperate to let him know. Apparently, when he left for New Zealand, he’d contacted them to tell them he was moving over there, but they hadn’t heard from him for a while and any attempt they had made with the authorities in New Zealand had come to nothing. As far as the police here were concerned though, he’d gone willingly to live abroad and hadn’t committed a crime, which meant they weren’t really interested in finding him. For Dan’s mum sake, I agreed to hire a private investigator.”

  “I understand that was a nice thing to do under the circumstance. I think I could do with that drink now.”

  Following Polly into her kitchen, Sam gazed out of the window.

  “Obviously you knew he’d gone to New Zealand before you heard from his family, how did you find out?”

  “He replied to my text.”

  Sam leaned against the kitchen units. “It was such a long time ago, I’m guessing you deleted the message?”

  “Yes, but I took a photo of it before I did.”

  “That was a smart move, it’s good to keep evidence.”

  “Thanks. By the way, I think I started telling you the other day that before Dan left the country, he cleared out our joint bank account. Fortunately, my dear father had al
ways taught me to be thrifty with my finances. I had stocks and shares I’d invested in, with the money my parents had left me that Dan knew nothing about and then there’s the rent I get from the house, so you don’t have to worry, I’ll have no problem funding your trip.”

  “Knowing you as I do, I don’t think you would ask me if you couldn’t. What good advice from your father though, at least you weren’t left destitute. Tell me, how did you end up coming here?”

  Sam noticed Polly took a big inhale of breath.

  “I remember staring at myself in the mirror soon after he left, picking up a pair of scissors, and cutting off all my hair. I don’t really know why I did it; all I know is I was screaming inside and changing the way I looked seemed a good idea at the time. I saw your parents advert for a housekeeper a few days later and applied. I put my house in the hands of a letting agency, packed a suitcase and without telling anyone where I was going, left my old world behind.”

  Sam felt the urge to hug her. “I’m glad you made your home here, Mum couldn’t cope without you.” They took their drinks into the lounge. “The private investigator you hired, did he give you a report?”

  “Yes, it’s in a file, I’ve kept all Dan’s paperwork together, I’ll go up and get it.”

  The file held various documents including bank statements, the photo of the text Daniel wrote before he left, and a very short report from Stanley Drummond, a private investigator based in London.

  “Do you mind if I take the file home with me? Only Mum and Brian will be back soon and I want to read everything thoroughly.”

  “Yes of course, take whatever you need if it will help. Look Sam, don’t get me wrong, but I’d feel a lot better if you took someone along with you to New Zealand. Say, your friend Kate?”

  Sam grinned, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Kate being a medium would it?”

  “Partly, I just feel I’m being a bit selfish asking you to go all that way on your own and I think your mum would worry less if you had someone with you. As I said, I’ve plenty of money, so there’s no problem there.”

  “I’ll ask her, but she does have two young children and anyway, I want to leave in less than three weeks, it might be too short notice.”

  “There’s no harm in asking though is there? … I think I can hear a car it’s probably your mum and Brian. Take the file and call me later. We’d better go outside to greet them, they’ll be wondering what we’re up to.”

  ***

  Sitting in the bay window of Honeysuckle Cottage, Sam unfolded the photo of Daniel’s text. The gentle tapping sound of an early bud from a yellow rose, against the glass pane, as it swayed in the spring breeze outside, caused her to glance up briefly. It was such a precious moment, the twilight before the fall of darkness and with Harry safely tucked up in bed; it gave her time to think and to plan. Returning her gaze to the sheet of paper in her hand, she began to read.

  Polly, believe me I didn’t want our marriage to end like this, but I realise I’ve hurt you and there’s no going back. You won’t have to see me again and anyway by the time you read this, I will be on my way to a new life in New Zealand. In case you’re wondering, her name’s Nancy Baxter and she is far from being a child.

  Take care Polly, if it helps, I really did love you. Daniel.

  Sam stared at the text. It didn’t give her much to go on apart from the girl’s name, which Polly had already told her. Why had Daniel felt the need to tell Polly the woman’s name, it seemed, under the circumstances, a strange thing to do. Did he want her to follow him out to New Zealand? Surely that wasn’t his intention. It certainly sounded from Daniel’s words though, that he regretted everything that had happened, or at least, regretted getting found out. Refolding the single piece of paper, she removed Stanley Drummond’s report from its envelope. It had a letter attached, written by Polly, dated June 2014, telling Drummond everything she knew about the whereabouts of her husband and included a professional photographer’s picture of Daniel. Sam scrutinised the photo for some time. She would definitely need to take this with her to New Zealand.

  Dear Mr. Drummond,

  This letter is confirmation of our discussion during our meeting at Waterloo Station. First of all, it was nice to meet you yesterday and thank you for taking the case of locating my husband Daniel Brennan, in order to help confirm to the police and the courts, whether he is in fact dead or alive.

  As I have already explained, the police contacted me a few weeks ago, to ask if I knew of Daniel’s whereabouts, because his mother is gravely ill and she wants to see him before she dies. Daniel left for New Zealand with a young woman called Nancy Baxter, in 2007. His family believes he was or still is living in Jacob’s Rest, a small town in the South Island, which, apparently, lies somewhere between Christchurch and Queenstown. He told them he was working as a teacher and the only contact they’ve had since 2008 has been via email, but since 2010 they’ve heard nothing from him at all – in fact, he seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth.

  As agreed, I will pay your air fare to New Zealand and all expenses you incur in your quest to find my husband.

  Yours faithfully,

  Mrs. P. Brennan

  The private investigator’s report was only a few pages long. Apparently Stanley Drummond had spent six days in New Zealand, without uncovering anything significant; certainly, he hadn’t been able to locate Daniel. He had quoted a couple of conversations he’d had with two residents of Jacob’s Rest, Mrs. Julie Arnold, a café owner and Miss Lorraine Clark who worked in a hairdressers. Both women had said they had met Daniel and knew Nancy, but hadn’t seen Daniel around for years. For his efforts, he had charged Polly, £10,755. Several receipts, showing how much he had spent on the trip, were attached to the report. Sam decided she would pay Stanley Drummond a visit, just to have a chat; it certainly wouldn’t do any harm.

  Before taking herself up to bed, Sam glanced through Daniel’s bank statements, and was intrigued to note several large transactions to a bank account in New Zealand, in the name of Jim Baxter. Obviously a relative of Nancy’s, Sam guessed her father. It seemed Daniel was paying heavily for sex with Nancy. Was money behind the attraction of an older man?

  ***

  The following day, Sam gave Polly a call.

  “Hi Polly, I’ve had a look through the file and I’m interested to know more about this private investigator. For a start, how did you find him?”

  “In the classified ads of a national newspaper. I replied to a box number.”

  “I see. Did you only meet up with him at Waterloo Station?”

  “Yes, we actually met twice, on our first meeting we chatted he seemed quite personable and I hired him. The second time was when he handed me his report.”

  “Did you ever go to his office?”

  “No, he did give me the address, but I never had a reason to go there. All the dealings we had were done by email or phone. He told me it was more convenient to meet him at the station. Is there something wrong?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think I should go and see him. The other thing is, you do realise you need to open up to my mum, after all I’m about to leave her grandson with her for a week or two, she’ll need to know everything and I think it will be best coming from you, before she and I have a one to one.”

  “I’ve already thought of that, I’ll speak to her today.”

  “Good. I’ll call this Stanley Drummond character now and try and make an appointment to see him. Would you be able to look after Harry if I go to London?”

  “Of course, and don’t forget to talk to your friend Kate. I realise you’ll have to explain everything to her too, but that’s fine, I’ve come to accept that everyone will know soon enough anyway.”

  “Going around to see Kate is next on my to do list.”

  ***

  Stanley Drummond was not very keen about Sam meeting him at his office. However, she pointed out she lived close by so it made sense. Of course, this was a lie, but
Sam wanted to see the headquarters of this so-called private investigator. Her natural instincts were telling her things didn’t smell right.

  Situated in a dingy side street up some very precarious stairs, the offices for ‘Drummonds Investigative Services’ frankly looked very run down. A woman, who introduced herself as ‘Stanley Drummond’s personal assistant’, greeted her at the part glass door.

  “Yes, can I help you?” asked the woman, who looked in her early forties. Her dyed curly blond hair hung loosely around her bronzed shoulders – presumably tanned from a recent holiday in the sun.

  “Hi, I’m Mrs. Adams, I have an appointment with Mr. Drummond.”

  The woman stood aside as Sam entered the compact reception area.

  “Mr. Drummond is on a phone call. Please take a seat.”

  Sitting on the only available chair opposite the woman’s desk, Sam crossed her legs and glanced around the stark room. Few pictures hung on its poorly plastered walls. A small, blinded window, looked directly out onto another building, which was so close, Sam was sure she could touch it with the tips of her fingers if she leaned out far enough. It certainly wasn’t a very creative working environment.