A Bombing Enigma Page 9

  “Pray for us,” Jane said gravely.

  “When will the funeral be?” Cynara asked.

  “Nothing has been scheduled yet. The police are conducting an autopsy. It will only be after they complete all their formalities,” Jane said.

  “Where are you?” Cynara asked.

  “At Aunt Fiona’s. We are all here. There are hordes of reporters outside,” Jane sighed tiredly. “Well I better go. I am glad I was able to talk to you.”

  “Same here,” Cynara said.

  “Isn’t your brother coming today?” Jane asked.

  “Yes. He is on the train and will be here by 3 p.m.,” Cynara replied.

  “I am happy for you. It will be good for you to have his support through this ordeal,” Jane said sincerely.

  “Yes very true. Please call anytime or come over if you can. And let me know if I can help out in any way,” Cynara said before disconnecting the call. She sat pondering about the family. They were affluent and had lived in the area for generations. Cynara was sure the media was not going to leave them in peace. It was exactly the kind of sensationalism reporters sought. These were indeed very trying times for the Stewarts.

  Chapter 13

  Cynara reached the train station in York a few minutes before three. Charles had caught the 1 p.m. from Kings Cross Station in London. She forced Ruth’s death out of her mind and determined to just enjoy the reunion with her brother. She had hardly seen him this year. He had visited regularly the last two years, but this year had been different. His new role in Perth required him to travel extensively in Southeast Asia and not England.

  The train was on time and Cynara rushed to greet Charles. He caught her in a tight bear hug. Breaking from his embrace, she looked up at his dear familiar face and laughed joyfully. It felt so good to see him. He looked the same, a tall, handsome man of thirty-three with jet-black hair and twinkling green eyes. His smile resembled Cynara’s with a dimple in his left cheek. Charles looked a little tired. It was a long flight from Perth to London and he never slept on airplanes.

  They took a taxi back to Cynara’s cottage. Charles was very impressed by the imposing manor house and stood admiring it after disembarking from the cab. They walked to the cottage. She proudly gave him a quick tour. He liked it and complimented her on her neatness. Cynara made tea and sandwiches for them while he took a shower and freshened up. Charles helped her carry everything onto the dining table and they sat down to eat.

  As Cynara poured tea into his cup he asked, “What is wrong? You seem troubled.”

  “Oh Charles, Ruth committed suicide,” Cynara lamented.

  “Ruth?” Charles queried astounded, “The cousin whom the police had arrested?”

  “Yes Jane’s first cousin,” Cynara explained.

  “But the police arrested her and then released her. She had an affair with that Abaan fellow?” he asked puzzled.

  “Yes,” Cynara said.

  “But when we spoke on Wednesday, you did not mention her suicide,” he said.

  “Because she died Thursday night,” Cynara said.

  “Thursday! Why didn’t you call me?” he asked.

  “I only found out yesterday when I went to work. You were already on your way. It has been terrible,” Cynara said.

  “I am so sorry,” he reached out and clasped her hands consolingly. “That’s horrific. Do you know why?”

  “No,” Cynara said. “Jane called me earlier today and said that Ruth left no suicide note. The Stewarts had a family dinner that evening and her father and brother were unhappy about her affair with Abaan Khalid.”

  “None of them knew anything about it prior to Ruth’s arrest?” Charles asked.

  “Not even the slightest inkling. It was her secret all this time,” Cynara replied.

  “Maybe the fact that it was no longer a secret is what led her to take this drastic step,” Charles suggested.

  “Perhaps,” Cynara agreed. “But it is very tragic, a real loss for the family. I heard her mother is heartbroken.”

  “Yes something like this leaves a void that probably never fills,” Charles agreed.

  They both sat there quietly for a few minutes and drank their tea. Then Charles started asking her about work, York, the other teachers she had met recently and all her experiences since her move. The remainder of the day passed swiftly as they caught up with all the details of their lives. Charles admitted that he missed England and a regular English life. He was seriously contemplating quitting his current job in the Diplomatic Corps and finding something in York. He was going to research local prospects on the web. Cynara hoped something would materialize.

  Cynara called Jane Sunday morning and learnt the Clemmons were back in their home. She and Charles decided to visit them briefly and offer their condolences. Both Jane and Mrs. Clemmons still looked quite shattered. David told them the Chief Medical Examiner had worked around the clock and completed the autopsy. The report confirmed that death was due to blood loss from the slit wrists. The funeral was scheduled for Wednesday morning. David and Jane were meeting with Kevin to make all the arrangements. Jane was grateful for having something to do.

  Mr. Clemmons and Kevin had met with the press the previous evening and given a brief statement about the autopsy results and the suicide. The reporters had badgered for the reason behind Ruth’s actions but they made no further comments. They had then beseeched the media folks to give them privacy and allow the family to grieve with dignity. Nevertheless, there still were a few reporters lurking around Mr. Michael Stewart’s house. They hoped they would not pester too much and just observe from a distance until after the funeral.

  Cynara and Charles left after a short stay and went to the city center. They spent the day sightseeing. Charles remembered the city quite well, even though this was the first time he had returned after graduating from his boarding school. The weather was glorious for being outdoors. They walked around for hours. Cynara just wanted to enjoy York. However, no matter how hard she tried, thoughts of Ruth and her death overshadowed her pleasure.

  They returned to the cottage after an early dinner. Charles was exhausted. The jet lag had caught up with him. He refused to sleep until he had lectured her to stop worrying about both the deaths. Cynara agreed there was no point in fretting. Nothing could be achieved by it. Qureshi’s death was a mystery and Ruth’s suicide did not prove she was the girl referred to in the letter. In fact, she definitely was not, otherwise Abaan Khalid would have used her name. He knew her and even had an affair with her. Cynara blanked out all these vexing questions from her mind and went to bed.

  Elizabeth was in the study drinking a cup of tea when Cynara entered the room on Monday morning. She appeared outwardly calm but you could see the sadness in her eyes. “Good morning Cynara. How are you?” she asked.

  “I am fine. How are you doing?” Cynara asked.

  “As fine as one can be in this situation. It has all been so confusing. None of us fully comprehends why she did it. Just because we found out about her affair? That does not make sense,” Elizabeth sighed. “We just have to put it past us and move on.”

  “How are Ruth’s parents?” Cynara asked.

  “Not good. What else can they be!” she exclaimed bitterly. “The funeral is this Wednesday.” Shaking her head as if to clear it, she squared her shoulders and stood up with determination. “Let us try and do some work. I need to stay occupied.”

  The morning moved at a sluggish pace. Charles came just before lunch and met Elizabeth. Cynara took him to the kitchen and introduced him to the staff as well. Mrs. Simpson gave him a quick tour of all the downstairs rooms. Charles was quite impressed by the grandeur. He then took Cynara to the cottage for an appetizing meal he had prepared. Charles was definitely more skilled than her in the kitchen, almost a gourmet cook.

  Cynara worked alone in the afternoon. She was proofreading a letter when Mr. Drake showed in Mr. Watson. Cynara was taken aback at seeing him. He apologized for coming unannounced bu
t needed to talk to Elizabeth. They sat down and waited while Mr. Drake went to call her. She came into the room looking apprehensive. Cynara could relate to her feelings as she also felt the same.

  Mr. Watson cleared his throat and said, “Sorry to intrude but I need some vital information from you.”

  “Yes?” Elizabeth asked quizzically.

  “Did Ms. Ruth visit you on June 19th, the night that Qureshi was shot?” Mr. Watson asked solemnly.

  “Ruth visit me, of course not,” Elizabeth said puzzled. “I already told you. The staff left and I was home by myself. I had a dinner tray. After eating, I retired to my room.”

  Mr. Watson turned towards Cynara and asked her the same question. She also shook her head in bewilderment and said, “No.”

  “Why are you asking this?” Elizabeth quizzed.

  “I first need to ask your staff as well and then will explain. Can you please call them,” Mr. Watson requested.

  Cynara quickly gathered them and brought them to the study. Mr. Watson questioned each of them and got the same negative response. He then said, “We interviewed a cabbie this morning who had picked up a tall, broad shouldered brunette from this road and driven her to Leeds on the night of Qureshi’s murder.”

  Elizabeth gasped aloud at hearing these words. “What are you saying?”

  Mr. Watson calmly looked at all their startled faces and said, “We have been looking for Qureshi’s murderer, as you can well imagine. We made inquiries at the train station and with all the buses that ran between York and Leeds that evening. It did not lead to anything. We checked security camera recordings but that also did not provide us with any relevant information.”

  “Who were you hoping to find?” Cynara asked.

  “Any familiar face involved in the case, including relatives of all of Jimmy’s victims. But we found nothing. Then we started talking to all the different cab companies to see if anyone had driven a passenger from York to Leeds and back. That led to quite a few people. We managed to trace all of them except for one. A cabbie had picked up a woman in front of a house at the end of this road. He drove her to a pub not too far from Qureshi’s shop, waited for her outside, brought her back, and dropped her in front of the same house. He had naturally assumed that is where she lived. However, the house is owned by a very old couple in their 80’s and they did not use a taxi that evening,” Mr. Watson said and paused looking carefully at all of them.

  “You think she was Ruth?” Elizabeth asked.

  “It might have been. The cab driver was not able to see the woman’s face clearly as it was partially hidden by a scarf and already dark. She wore a long black overcoat. But he distinctly remembers a tall brunette,” Mr. Watson said.

  “But there can be tall brunettes living in one of the other houses on the street,” Elizabeth argued.

  “We already checked and could not find one,” Mr. Watson said.

  “This is a very serious allegation. Can the cab driver recognize her from a photograph?” Elizabeth asked.

  “No because he did not see her face,” Mr. Watson repeated.

  “Then how can you think it was Ruth? This is disgraceful. You need to find a murderer and are making Ruth the villain,” Elizabeth said angrily.

  “Mrs. Stewart, all we are trying to do is to identify the culprit based on the facts we have uncovered. We have no witnesses at the crime scene who can positively ID the criminal. Thus, we have to objectively look at all our findings. I am not here to accuse anyone. Instead, I am only here to ask if any of you met Ms. Ruth that evening. Someone with a similar body structure and hair took a taxi from this street to a pub in Leeds and returned after an hour,” Mr. Watson explained patiently.

  “Does anyone remember this mystery woman in the pub she visited?” Cynara asked.

  “Unfortunately no. It was very crowded at the time that Thursday evening. None of the waiters, servers, or bartenders remember her. There are hidden cameras installed but she is not visible in any footage,” Mr. Watson said. “It is almost as if she alighted from the taxi in front of the pub but did not go inside at all. The taxi driver did not pay attention so we cannot confirm this theory either.”

  “You have a lot of theories. Is there anything else?” Elizabeth asked wearily. Listening to Mr. Watson seemed to have sapped all her energy.

  “No. Thank you for your time,” Mr. Watson replied before leaving.

  All of them stood there solemnly for a few moments before returning to their respective tasks. Cynara felt they all must have the same question coursing through their minds, what if it was Ruth. She certainly did not voice it and neither did anyone else. Elizabeth looked almost ill. She retreated upstairs to her room. Cynara felt concerned about her being alone. Mrs. Simpson tried to allay her fears. She and Mr. Drake would periodically check on her. After wishing Mrs. Simpson a good night, Cynara walked to her cottage.

  Chapter 14

  Charles was sprawled lazily on a sofa watching TV. He took one look at her face and realized something was amiss. “What is it?” he asked quickly.

  Cynara told him about Mr. Watson’s unnerving visit. Charles was quite astonished. “Is it possible? Could that woman have been Ruth?” Cynara asked.

  “Well anything seems possible. First Jimmy’s suicide, then Qureshi’s murder and now Ruth’s suicide. Maybe she was involved after all in Jimmy’s plan. And now that the police knew about her connection with Abaan Khalid, she was frightened they would soon discover her involvement in this as well.” Charles said thoughtfully.

  “And that fear forced her to kill herself?” Cynara asked.

  “Yes it all seems to fit together,” Charles said. “But this is just a hypothesis unless the police find some concrete evidence.”

  “What a mess. Now that the speculation is there, it puts doubts in everyone’s minds. And even if it is never proven conclusively, the skepticism will always remain,” Cynara said.

  “That is true,” Charles agreed.

  “And if the press get a whiff of this it will only add to the family’s distress. Plus think about the shame,” Cynara said.

  “But the police and the investigators cannot release this until they have real proof. So stop worrying about it and let us cook some dinner.” Charles started taking stock of the food in the fridge and the pantry.

  “What did you think of Elizabeth?” Cynara asked curiously, following him into the kitchen.

  “Seems like a genuinely nice person. But it is just a first impression,” Charles said.

  “No, I think it’s a true impression. She is nice,” Cynara agreed.

  They made a simple Italian dinner of pesto chicken pasta, garlic bread, and salad. Charles poured them both a glass of white wine while the pasta baked. They were famished by the time they started eating. The meal was very flavorful, with her brother’s special touch, and Cynara enjoyed every morsel. They went for a leisurely walk to the park. It was a warm evening and Cynara was happy to be outdoors. Upon returning, they watched an old Audrey Hepburn movie playing on one of the channels, Wait Until Dark. It was one of Cynara’s favorites. Her tiredness caught up with her though and she practically dozed off in the middle of the movie. Charles had to shake her awake and send her to bed.

  Tuesday was thankfully relatively quiet. Cynara worked on a few insurance documents. Elizabeth gave her detailed instructions for handling them. She then left to help with the funeral arrangements. Mrs. Simpson invited Charles to have lunch with all of them in the kitchen. He happily accepted and enjoyed their company and patiently answered all their questions about his life. They were certainly curious. It was good as it took their minds off Ruth, suicides and murders.

  Ruth’s funeral was held at the York Cemetery. Elizabeth joined the family at Ruth’s parents’ house. The hearse left there at 10 a.m. Charles and Cynara went directly to the Chapel at the cemetery, along with the rest of the staff. They reached a few minutes before the service began. The Chapel was beautiful with a lot of natural lighting. It was filled
to capacity with friends and family. All the close relatives were seated in the front rows. The press was not allowed inside. There was security at the perimeter of the cemetery holding them at bay.

  The service was poignantly beautiful. It brought tears to Cynara’s eyes. Every member of the family said a few words, other than Ruth’s mother. She kept weeping throughout the speeches. Cynara’s heart went out to her. Once all the obituaries were completed, Ruth’s coffin was carried out to the graveyard. A priest said a prayer and then Ruth was buried.

  After the burial, Charles spotted Peter and Janine among the crowd. He took Cynara’s elbow and they started making their way towards them. Peter was solemnly talking to someone she had never seen before. Janine saw them approaching and quickly came and hugged Charles. “How lovely to see you. Though I wish it had been under better circumstances.”