Dead Of Winter (Willis/Carter #1)(81)

His eyes lingered on her.

‘No. Anything but.’ He half laughed. His teeth perfectly veneered.

‘Even though she had no other children? Maria didn’t marry again, did she?’

‘No she didn’t and yes . . . even though she only had one child Maria was an unloving mother.’

‘I come from a massive family,’ Carter chipped in. ‘Always wanted to be an only child . . . get some attention . . . we had to fight for it. So many of us we were given numbers not names . . . you know how it is?’

Martingale smiled. ‘As I told you last time . . . I have many regrets. Chrissie went from boarding school to university. She was a scholarship kid, very bright, not brilliant, but I was immensely proud of her achievements.’

‘So what happened to her mother?’

‘She died in a fire. Very sad. Mental illness is a great shame. It’s a hard thing for any of us to understand. It’s an awful thing to be afflicted with it; it’s even worse to have to live with someone who has it.’ He held Ebony’s gaze. She looked away. ‘She was dead before Chrissie’s body was released. I had to bury them both. I always thought it could have been Maria who killed Chrissie. Maria got harder and harder to control and she turned psychotic.’

‘Yesterday we discovered another body buried in the garden of the property in Totteridge Village. It’s an eleven-year-old girl. Her name is Shannon Mannings. Does it mean anything to you?’

‘No, sorry.’

‘She was one of the children that the Chrissie Newton Foundation helps. She’s from the Lea Vale children’s home in mid-Wales.’

‘Sorry. Her name doesn’t mean anything to me. What a terrible shame. How did she die?’

‘We don’t know. Whoever did it tried to dispose of her body by burning it.’ Ebony watched Carter; he had lost interest in the flowers and now was much more intrigued by the complicated timing devices for climate control. ‘We identified her by the operation she’d had to put a pin in her broken arm. Don’t suppose you did that for her, did you?’ Carter turned back from examining the humidifying system.

Martingale shook his head again. ‘No.’ He turned reluctantly from Carter and smiled at Ebony.

‘Okay . . . well . . . worth asking.’ Carter stood up. He turned one of the pots around to get a better look and took a photo.

‘Please . . .’ Martingale turned it back, a flash of anger flitting across his face. Carter smiled.

‘Beg your pardon.’ He put his phone away.

‘It’s just that I have them all perfectly placed for maximum growth and light, according to their type.’

‘Wow . . . that’s what you call a perfectionist. Isn’t it, Ebb?’

She nodded.

‘I try.’

‘Do you have a garden in South Africa?’

‘I don’t tend to it. It’s more structural. It’s not ornamental.’

Martingale began walking them back towards the front of the house. He was getting bored by the conversation. He was getting irritable. At the front door Carter paused.

‘Sorry . . . I forgot to ask. Can I have the number of your daughter, Nikki?’

‘Yes. Of course . . . wait . . . I’ll get it for you.’

Martingale came back with a number written on a piece of paper. ‘Can I ask you why you want it?

‘It’s just that she and her husband run the Chrissie Newton Foundation, don’t they? I wonder if they would know the name Shannon Mannings? Apparently they’ve accompanied the children, including Shannon Mannings, on trips from the home paid for, very generously, by the foundation.’

‘Yes, of course . . . Nikki will be very sad and shocked by this news, I’m sure. She and Justin are very active in their role as directors of the charity.’

‘Well . . . thanks for your time, Mr Martingale. Thanks for your understanding. Hopefully we won’t have to bother you many more times. Now I can picture you tending to your orchids . . . so beautiful. Amazing.’

‘Thank you.’ Martingale opened the front door for them.

‘Sorry . . . Can I just ask . . . one more thing?’ Carter stopped in the doorway. ‘How do you manage the orchids when you go away?’

‘That’s what the expensive machinery’s for.’

‘You can check things remotely?’ Martingale nodded. ‘What, you just sit at your PC in Africa and check the humidity levels, set the timer, that kind of thing?’

‘Exactly. Plus orchids don’t flower in summer and I’m usually away then. I tend to come back in the winter. That’s when they come to life.’ He stepped back into the house.

‘I noticed that . . . all the prizes you won in shows; they’re all in the springtime.’

‘Yes.’

Carter turned to wave at Martingale at the end of his garden.

‘Charming bloke.’ Carter winked at Ebony. ‘But remember, Ebb . . . not parasites, survivors.’

‘He seemed to have a touch of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Sarge. He definitely didn’t like you messing with his plants.’

‘Think we saw a little flash of temper then, don’t you, Ebb? He’s not a man used to compromise. He doesn’t like being challenged.’

‘Control freak, Sarge.’