Page 20 of A Very Bookish Murder (Ally McKinley Mystery #3)
SIXTEEN
Ally hadn’t had much time to herself over the past couple of days, and she’d become aware of the fact that she should really have been doing some research into Jodi Jones.
There just might be some clue in there, somewhere, regarding her past life.
Something that she could relay to Rigby at the very least.
She googled ‘Jodi Jones’ and then clicked meticulously on each website listed under her name.
She was English; she wrote bestselling novels; she’d always wanted to write.
She was a university graduate, specialising in Creative Writing, and she edited people’s manuscripts.
She had been married once, had lived in a commune in Wales for a few years, but was now single again, although rumour had it that there had never been a divorce and she was still in a relationship with her agent, Harry Harper, who, years ago, had left his wife and baby for her, creating much negative publicity.
But at the very foot of the page of search results was an online magazine called Celebrity Confessions . The very title indicated that it was bound to be full of lightweight rubbish, but why then, Ally wondered, was it listed under Jodi Jones? Worth a look, she thought.
After some clicking and re-clicking, Ally was finally able to bring the magazine up on the screen.
Predictably, there were pages devoted to media personalities who’d had their love lives blighted one way or the other, their busts enlarged/reduced, and their Botox wonderful/gone wrong.
Ally waded through the pages and then, there in the very centre was AN INTERVIEW WITH THE FAMOUS WRITER OF WOMEN’S FICTION – JODI JONES. HER HEARTbrEAKING STORY! EXCLUSIVE!
Agog, Ally continued to read:
Jodi Jones confided to us that, back in August 1975 she gave birth to a baby.
‘I wasn’t yet seventeen,’ she told us, ‘and I’ve never told anyone this before.
’ At this point, Jodi had to dry her eyes.
‘My family were somewhat strait-laced, right was right, wrong was wrong, and I most definitely was wrong. Abandoned by my family, I found a hostel for unmarried mothers and, immediately after the birth, they arranged adoption. So, that’s what I did.
’ Jodi wiped her tears away again. ‘I had my beautiful baby adopted.’ She then described the heartbreak, and at a time when she was barely more than a child herself.
‘It was a disgrace back then, but since then I’ve got married, lived in a commune and now I’m independent again.
I admit that I’ve used men to get where I am today, top of the bestsellers’ list. But do you know what?
There was not a single day when I didn’t think about my child.
And then, one day, my child got in touch!
Can you imagine? I got my motherhood back!
And I don’t intend to ever lose it again!
The reporter had added a further paragraph.
Jodi, has, for many years now, been in a well-publicised relationship with Harry Harper, her agent, the man who sent her on her way.
He is known for having furthered the careers of several prominent female writers but had never become romantically involved with one before.
What was particularly tragic was the fact that Harry Harper had left his wife heartbroken, and with a three-month-old baby, to move in with Jodi.
‘What do you think, Ross?’ Ally asked later as she showed him her findings on the laptop.
‘It was a disgrace back then to become pregnant if you weren’t married, and she seems to have spent her life being obsessed with having to give her baby away.
What strikes me as being particularly sad is that she’s admitted to “using” men after that, like she blamed all men for her own downfall, which it was then, of course, and her struggle for survival.
But survive she did! She was completely unmoved by her lover leaving his wife and baby behind, which seems incredible.
She may not have been a particularly nice woman, but she’d obviously become hardened by her experiences. ’
‘What I don’t understand is why this child, if they exist, hasn’t got in touch?’ Ross said. ‘I mean, Jodi’s murder has been well reported by the media, and since there doesn’t appear to have been any further offspring, then surely they’d be the heir to her considerable bank balance?’
‘I think I should tell Amir, and Rigby, what I’ve found,’ Ally said.
‘I’m amazed they haven’t discovered this for themselves,’ Ross commented with a frown.
‘Ah, but very few men would be likely to read the rubbish magazine that I waded through,’ Ally said with a grin.
‘Obviously we’re not persistent enough,’ Ross agreed.
On Wednesday morning, shortly after the women had gone out and Ross had gone home, Amir Kandahar put in an appearance again.
‘It has been officially confirmed,’ he said, ‘that Joyce Williams died of a massive overdose of insulin, as I suspected. We’ve checked the syringes you had stored in the box in your fridge and it appeared – assuming she brought sufficient for a week or two – that a quantity was missing.’
‘Well, as I told you, almost anyone could have gone into the kitchen,’ Ally admitted. ‘I lock the outside doors if I’m going anywhere, but there’s no lock on the kitchen door and all the women have keys so they can come and go as they wish.’ She sighed. ‘I think you’re going to need a cup of tea.’
‘I certainly do!’ Amir frowned. ‘So any one of them could have gone in there and helped themselves if you weren’t around?’
‘Yes, I guess so. But, Amir, I have something important to tell you. Jodi Jones had a child.’
‘How come I have no record of this?’ Amir asked, looking perplexed.
‘Apparently it was adopted as a baby and didn’t contact her until they were an adult.’ Ally fired up her laptop and, after a few minutes, produced the magazine and the centre pages for his perusal.
Amir read it carefully as Ally made the tea, and then appeared to reread it, his eyes widening.
‘I’m going to look into this,’ he said, clicking several times on the article and noting down the website address.
He looked up. ‘Well, if she and her offspring are now as close as she’s making out here, then where is he or she? Why haven’t they appeared?’
‘Good question,’ Ally agreed.
‘Is this a reputable magazine?’ Amir asked.
‘Not very. But don’t you think she’d have sued if they printed something that was wrong? I mean, this was published a year ago.’
Ally handed him a mug and reached for the biscuit tin. ‘Some shortbread?’
Amir nodded distractedly and helped himself to a generous piece. ‘You’d have to be on a bloody desert island or somewhere not to be aware of Jodi Jones’s murder! So why has this child not appeared?’ he asked again.
Ally shook her head.
‘This thing is beginning to keep me awake at night,’ Amir added with a sigh.
‘You and me both,’ said Ally. She longed to tell him about Rigby’s long-lost sister, but a promise was a promise.
Perhaps, though, she might now be able to persuade Rigby to tell Amir.
Surely they were working towards the same goal?
And it certainly didn’t look like Rigby was likely to be back on the case any time soon.
Amir munched his shortbread for a moment, took a swig of tea and then asked out of the blue, ‘Have you got a daughter?’
Taken aback for a moment, Ally replied, ‘Yes, I have.’
‘I have two,’ said Amir, gazing out of the window. ‘Their mother died two years ago.’
Ally had heard something similar from Rigby. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said sincerely.
‘She was a good mother,’ Amir said, still gazing out of the window. ‘But my girls are now teenagers. They’re fifteen and seventeen, and it’s not easy being the father of teenagers these days, Ally.’
‘I know that,’ Ally said, recalling countless arguments with both Jamie and Carol about what was allowed and what was not. ‘Who looks after them when you’re working?’
‘My mother and my sister.’ He sighed. ‘My mother’s nearly eighty and she’s had ten children, but she doesn’t understand this modern world. Do you know what I mean?’
Ally nodded.
‘She doesn’t understand technology, or the temptations and pitfalls of social media. Then there’s my sister, who has a family of her own and can only give them limited time. They need their mother.’
Ally touched his arm. ‘Oh, Amir, I’m sorry.
It must be very difficult. But do you know what?
My daughter, Carol, was an absolute nightmare!
Boys, alcohol, drugs, you name it. My late husband was convinced she’d end up in prison, but I never lost hope.
I had a feeling she’d come through it and come good, and do you know what?
She did! Even after she and a friend once spent a night in a police cell for causing a disturbance of the peace.
We were absolutely humiliated! Then off she went to London, got a job designing fabrics.
She was always very arty-crafty. She married an airline pilot, has three kids and now lives a very conventional life in a leafy English village.
So there you are! Never give up hope. I’m sure your two will come through this teenage bit, and I’m sure they’ve inherited your genes and will be decent, caring adults. ’
‘You’re a very kind lady, Ally,’ Amir said as he drained his tea. ‘Thank you for listening to me because this has nothing whatsoever to do with the Jodi Jones case.’
After Amir had left, Ally removed the board from the wall and stared at it for a moment or two. How long was it since she’d studied it last? And how things had changed!