Page 69 of Glasshouses

I looked at Nick. “That tallies.”

Wrigley had come over to us, taking a break from the cricket. “What tallies?”

“The redacted files. I’ve thought from the start that the original case wasn’t investigated properly. No other lines of enquiry were explored and it was only circumstantial that it was Lily.” I watched Wrigley’s expression sour.

“She never presented a case for the defence, Mia.” Wrigley didn’t sit down. “I heard what Jimmy said, and he’s right, there were always rumours about Graham Mercer. He retired about ten years ago, and now lives in a house you can’t afford on a copper’s pension in Andalucia.”

“Did you think he was bent?” Nick said, leaning back in his chair.

“I didn’t think he was a straight cop, but policing was different back then, almost. There are still bent cops and cops who’ll take advantage if they think they can get away with it.” He paused, looking upwards at an imaginary object. “I’d focus on Lily still, or someone that was owed money or, if there’s any suggestion of someone being coerced to name The Holding in their will. Skint, grieving relatives are always a good line of enquiry. How recent are those accounts?”

I tried not to show I disagreed with what he was saying. “Nothing newer than five years ago, but there’s more to go through. Lily’s in the clear for Friday night though. Unless she got someone else to lock Cade in the building.”

“How likely is that?” Wrigley looked keen.

“Unlikely. I can’t see her in the state that she is mentally being able to execute something like that.”

“But she can run a profitable garden design business. Give her a bit of a push, see if you can get her to talk about her mother.” Wrigley seemed to relax.

“It looked like Amanda was investigating the Roselea fire.” I briefed him on what we’d found.

“If one of my kids was accused of setting a fire and killed the rest of the family, I’d want them to be innocent, else what does it show about me as a parent?” Wrigley checked his phone again. “Bollocks. Another wicket.”

I caught Nick’s eye and wondered whether we were both having the same thought about Wrigley’s retirement not happening a moment too soon.

“I’m going to go and see Lily.” I put the pile of papers that were on my knee back on the table. “There was a wooden box we found in the shed at Amanda’s current house. I’ll take that with me; see if she knows what it was for.” I grabbed my stuff, needing to head down to property to sign the box out.

“A talking point.” Nick nodded. “I’m going to get my head around these accounts.”

“See if you notice anything that looks like payments to a school.” I could trust Nick, but I’d only ever trust someone so far.

He looked puzzled. I ignored it, picked up my laptop and stuffed it in my bag. “I might be back; it depends on how long it takes to speak to her.”

“Do you know where she’ll be?”

“Not exactly, but I have a good idea of where to start.”

Wilmslow felt like a foreign country after spending a morning running through a village made of weather worn grey stone. Immaculate houses with gated drives and cars that if you had to ask the price of; you couldn’t afford.

I hadn’t gone to Lily’s house, figuring she wouldn’t be there anyway. After the heavy rain of the morning, the rest of the day had turned out to be cool but bright, a perfect day for gardening and she’d said that there was a photoshoot at her client’s house this weekend, so I fully expected her to be there, hiding in the shadows and making sure no petals were lost.

A couple of cars were already parked outside the electric gates, which were handily open. I couldn’t see Lily’s van, which meant I could’ve sent myself on a wild goose chase. The driveway was perfectly set, the borders around the front lawn a mosaic of colours, artfully placed tall grasses blowing in the breeze, giving the effect of constant movement.

Lily’s client opened the double doors to the house, studying me as I came up the drive.

“I’m sorry, I’m rather busy right now - ”

I silenced him by showing my ID. “I’m looking for Lily Mayhew. I thought maybe I could find her here.” It was unkind, I supposed. Lily didn’t want any attention brought to her and this was just it.

“Oh, is this about the brick through her window?”

I nodded; it wasn’t quite a lie. “I just need to check a few things with her. Is she with you?”

“She’s around the back. I can show you through – she’s finished now as we’ve done with the photos.” He let me through, surprisingly obliging for someone with a lot of money.

I followed him through the house, a place the opposite of mine – it was furnished for a start. The ceilings were lower, apart from in the grand entrance hall which was triple vaulted and like something from a grand hotel. We went through a door to a huge living area, the kitchen at one end and with bifold doors the entire length of the back.

The view onto the garden was phenomenal, a garden which included a swimming pool and a carriage house style building, double storey, that I imagined provided guest accommodation.