A Dreadful Past (4 page)

‘I see.' Ventnor once again glanced round the room, noting again how solid the building seemed.

‘The house itself was a four-bedroomed Victorian farmhouse which Father modernized, and it was quite roomy for the four of us. It had plenty of additional rooms which were used for purposes such as to study in or for storage … It also had an attic but no cellar, this being the Vale of York with a high water table. The acres of wilderness outside made a lovely play area for me and my sister and our friends … over a hundred acres to roam about in during the school holidays. We made dens and built camp fires … we camped out on the land during the summer … I have some very good memories. Father had it fenced off with a low fence. It was easy for someone to get over the fence but it delineated the boundary of the property which kept people out. He also had it painted yellow on the outside, which deterred people from climbing over it.'

‘Yellow,' Carmen Pharoah quizzed. ‘Is that significant?'

‘Yes … yes, it is,' Noel Middleton explained with a knowing smile.

‘Very significant,' Thompson Ventnor confirmed. ‘Really … believe me, it is very significant.'

‘You see, people will shy away from yellow,' Noel Middleton continued, ‘but are attracted to other colours like black, green, red and blue.'

‘It is for that reason,' Ventnor added, ‘that fast-food restaurants are red on the outside but yellow on the inside … the red invites you in but the yellow drives you out once they have your money.'

‘And that is also the reason,' Middleton further explained, ‘why you see yellow fire engines in the United States. The Americans are very clever in that way. The colour of the fire engine reinforces the signals given out by the flashing lights and the klaxon, whereas the traditional red gives off a mixed message to the motorists. Car drivers will get out of the way of a yellow fire engine marginally quicker than they would for a red engine, but the marginal quickness of many cars adds up to a significant time saving over a journey measured in miles, and when time is of the essence that is particularly useful. Possibly even life-saving.'

‘How very interesting.' Carmen Pharoah nodded. ‘Thank you. I never knew that. It is very interesting indeed.'

‘Father painted the inside of the fence green so our eyes would not be assaulted by the yellow when we viewed the boundary fence from the house,' Middleton carried on, ‘and we belt and braced the effect of the yellow paint by painting signs which read Beware of Adders in black on the outside of the fence at twenty-foot intervals, even though it is a trifle cold for adders up here in Yorkshire. They really belong in the gentler climes of the southern counties, but it seemed to have done the trick and in our childhood Sara and I had a vast adventure playground to ourselves and our friends.'

‘A good memory to have,' Ventnor commented, ‘as you said.'

‘Yes … Father could be a bit of a disciplinarian – he had quite a heavy hand – but he was a criminal lawyer and saw so many young people often come before the court, he believed, because of “loose parenting”, as he was wont to call it. But he provided very well for his family. He could not be faulted in that respect.'

‘So … the burglary and the murder of your parents and sister took place at night, we believe?' Ventnor quietly but efficiently brought the discussion back on track. ‘Is that the case, sir?'

‘Yes … yes, it is the case.' Middleton nodded. ‘I recall that the grandfather clock which stood in the hall near the front door was found to have been knocked over in the mêlée and the face was broken with the hands being stopped at ten twenty p.m., or about that time. The post-mortem found recently consumed food in the stomach of each of my parents and sister, and a pile of unwashed but soaking dishes in the sink. It was the family habit to eat at about nine p.m. and it was mother's practice to leave unwashed dishes soaking overnight rather than do the washing up immediately after the meal. She explained that because of this practice the washing up was more than half done when she washed the dishes the following morning. It was not so much the plates or the knives and forks which benefitted from being soaked overnight, perhaps, but more the cooking utensils which could be baked hard with carbon. So what was discovered by the police was all in keeping with the family routine. Father liked to be in bed by eleven p.m., most especially if he was working the next day, and he liked to have the whole household retired by midnight. So nothing at all unusual there.'

‘What was stolen?' Ventnor asked.

‘Items of high value and low bulk … I told the police all this twenty years ago. In the main really it was just the Wedgwood vase which was a bit bulky and fragile but they were probably not interested in it as such, otherwise they would have taken the rest.'

‘The rest?' Carmen Pharoah queried.

‘Mother was really so proud of her collection of Wedgwood china,' Middleton explained. ‘The bulk of it was kept in a glass-fronted display cabinet but one or two pieces were placed on shelves about the house, the vase in question being one such piece.'

‘So they took items like jewellery in the main?' Carmen Pharoah glanced round the room, also noticing the solid nature of the house.

‘Yes, that sort of thing,' Middleton confirmed, ‘and some hard cash but Father never kept much money in the house. Watches were stolen and some silverware.'

‘They forced the window, I believe?' Ventnor continued.

‘So it seemed, and reached in and turned the barrel lock inside the front door which could not be seen from the main road,' Middleton explained. ‘The house had a L-shaped floor plan with the door on the inside of the L and even then the road, which never carried much traffic at that time of night, was about one hundred yards away.' Middleton paused as if in thought. ‘It's a point I think worth making that the burglary, as I recall it, was particularly messy. There was no “skill”, if I can use that word to describe such a needlessly violent crime. It seemed that it was a case of batter in, no matter about the noise, lift the phone off the hook to prevent anyone phoning the police from any upstairs extension, grab what you can, hoping the noise will make the householders do the sensible thing and lock themselves in their bedrooms, letting the burglars escape with the loot. Use violence only if the householders attempt to protect their property.'

‘Which they did,' Ventnor added.

‘Yes … sadly, which they did.' Middleton sighed in agreement. ‘Grabbing the vase most likely to carry the valuables away with them was strange – any half-baked crew would have brought a swag bag of some description or just stuffed their pockets with the loot, and the time … ten twenty p.m … was earlier than I would have thought was usual. Burglars break in at night when the householders are sleeping, not late in the evening when there is a chance that they might still be up and about. That is one aspect of the burglary that has always greatly puzzled me … the house lights would still be burning, for instance. That would deter any burglar, I would have thought.'

‘Yes,' Ventnor mused, ‘that is indeed unusual. Did they get away with much in terms of overall value?'

‘Perhaps a few thousand pounds' worth of items,' Noel Middleton advised. ‘By that I mean low four figures – really it was hardly worth murdering three people for, if you ask me.'

‘Indeed … indeed. And your father had no enemies that you know of?' Ventnor asked.

‘Again, as I have said before, none that I know of,' Middleton replied. ‘He was a professional man, you see, a lawyer, not a businessman. It's businessmen who make enemies … businessmen and criminals … and he was neither. He could be ill-tempered and quite difficult – hard to like, even – but I knew of no one who hated him so much that they were prepared to murder him and his family. So I'm sorry, I can't be of any help there. I am certain it was a burglary that got very badly out of hand, perpetrated by a bunch of cowboys which then went totally pear-shaped. I am sure that it was not a premeditated murder perpetrated by an enemy of his and made to look like a burglary gone horribly wrong. I really am very sure of that.'

‘Fair enough.' Ventnor consulted his notes. ‘I see that a lady called Graham, a Mrs Anne Graham, discovered the bodies of your parents and your sister. Who was she? What can you tell us about her?'

‘She was the cleaner, the cleaning lady. The woman who comes and does,' Middleton explained. ‘She came every Wednesday, as regular as clockwork, arriving at about ten in the morning, so she found the bodies within twelve hours of the break-in, otherwise they might have remained undetected for a few days, possibly until my father's colleagues became suspicious about his absence. A few days is a bit of an exaggeration – they would probably have phoned him at home on Thursday but definitely by Friday if he had not phoned in sick by then … so two days at the outside.'

‘The incident happened on the Tuesday evening of that week?' Ventnor clarified.

‘Yes,' Middleton confirmed. ‘The post-mortem found the bodies were immediate pre-rigor mortis … and I received the news later that Wednesday when I was well under the influence. I had played cricket for Durham University's second eleven against Liverpool, who were the visitors. Our first eleven managed to hold Liverpool's to a draw, but we lowly second eleveners were well and truly trounced. I remember it all so clearly. Liverpool won the toss and put us into bat. We were all out for a very unimpressive one hundred and twenty. Liverpool declared at one hundred and thirty for the loss of just three wickets, so that was the end of us. I went into the changing rooms for a shower and then we got the booze in. Liverpool were celebrating and we were not celebrating, but it was all good-humoured, and in the middle of all that my name was called out over the tannoy. I was required urgently at the porter's lodge. Two police officers managed to break the news to me despite my having consumed many pints of strong beer by then.' Noel Middleton fell silent. ‘So, yes, the burglary and murders took place the Tuesday of that week. Very easily verified … but yes … it happened on the Tuesday evening of that week, and the bodies were found by Mrs Graham the following morning.'

‘We'll have to speak to her.' Ventnor glanced at Carmen Pharoah, who nodded in agreement. ‘Twenty years … if she is still with us. How old was she at the time?' Ventnor asked.

‘I recall her as being in her middle years,' Middleton replied. ‘I remember her as a slightly built woman who seemed to fill the house by her sheer energy of movement. Like a molecule bouncing around inside its naturally allocated space, I recall her as being a veritable whirlwind of a cleaning lady. You know, when she came, my sister and I would leave the house just to get some peace, to get out of her way. As children we would escape into our vast adventure playground if it wasn't raining or too cold, in which case we'd go up into the attic where I had a train set and she had her doll's house. In later years, our teenage years, we'd escape into York, either together or with our friends, she with hers and I with mine.'

‘So she was a long-term employee?' Carmen Pharoah queried. ‘It sounds as if she was.'

‘Yes …' Noel Middleton pursed his lips and glanced up towards the beams on the ceiling. ‘Yes, I dare say that you could call her a long-term employee. She came each Wednesday for about fifteen years except on holiday times, Christmas and Easter, and except when she was away on her annual summer holiday or when we were on ours. But other than those occasions, unless she was unwell she came to clean our house each Wednesday for about fifteen years. She'd cycle here and back home again … can you believe? But I suppose many people do in the east of England, it being so flat, on the right-hand side of the Tees-Exe Line. I recall that she would arrive shortly after nine thirty in the morning and work through until about five p.m. with an hour for lunch which Mother prepared for her and which she ate alone in the kitchen. Father, being the man he was, was adamant that she was never to sit down and eat with the family. He was head of the household in the time-honoured manner and each person had their place. As I have said, he was a traditionalist. But anyway, Mrs Graham came to the house on that Wednesday morning … she had a key and the agreement was that she could let herself in if her knock upon her arrival wasn't responded to within a reasonable time. There used to be an old-fashioned metal ring knocker, a massive thing. It's most likely still there. I swear you would have thought it had been purloined from a cathedral or the ruins of a monastery, and when it was used without any effort put into it, the sound it made would echo all over the house. There was no mistaking it and there was no missing it. So she would have let herself in if the knocker wasn't responded to within a minute or two and then call out, announcing her presence. If there was still no response she would make herself a cup of tea, have a short rest after her exertion in getting out to the house and then start her cleaning. Here I should add that Mrs Graham would take the bus out and back in particularly bad weather but usually she would use her bike. So that morning she entered the house, found what she found and then left the house to summon the police from the home of the nearest neighbour. She intuitively knew, she said, that she must not enter any further into the house, knowing that she should not be in the house under such terrible circumstances, good woman that she was and I earnestly hope she still is.'

‘Yes, indeed. As I said, we'll have to talk to her,' Ventnor mused, ‘if she is still with us. Twenty years on … she might have passed away by now, but we have her address as it was at the time, in Tang Hall.'

‘Really?' Noel Middleton smiled. ‘I never knew that … I never knew that Mrs Graham was a “Tangy”.'

‘You clearly know Tang Hall, sir?' Ventnor returned the smile.