DCI Isaac Cook Box Set 2, стр. 307
‘Did you see a car?’
‘I glimpsed her getting into a dark blue car when she left. It was parked not far from the grave, quick getaway if you’re suspicious of her.’
‘Any more?
‘She wore a wedding ring.’
‘Engagement ring, diamonds?’
‘I can’t say I noticed, but I wasn’t really looking. I just remembered that when we left the church to head to the grave, that she had placed her bag on a headstone and her hand was exposed. She’d had black gloves on before, but she had removed them, and I saw a ring. I didn’t study her, nor her hand. It’s just an observation that came back to me. Important?’
‘Could she be the other woman that your brother spoke about?’
‘Why would he have messed around with a married woman? He had his choice of women; married women bring complications.’
‘Married women bring anger and jealousy and murder, Mr Palmer,’ Larry said. ‘We need to find her and to talk to Liz Spalding and Bec Johnson. We need your help in finding all three.’
Chapter 10
‘It wasn’t that he didn’t try it on,’ Bec Johnson said when Larry and Wendy met her at a restaurant in the centre of Oxford, popular with the local university students, judging by the clientele that day.
‘You see his brother from time to time,’ Wendy said.
‘I can’t say I know him that well, not that anyone does, but yes, we meet occasionally. He likes to talk about this and that. He’s a sad man. His brother was the total opposite, and I’m not sure if Bob even liked his brother when he was alive. But in death comes the regret.’
‘Your relationship with Stephen?’ Larry asked. A salad washed down with orange juice had constituted his lunch for that day, and it was now three in the afternoon. Bec, now in her forties, was no longer the sweet young thing she had been at the funeral. The effects of the last twenty years had aged her, although her face was clear and free of makeup. Her hair was cropped short.
‘I met Stephen through my sister; we hit it off. You see, he was keen on her, taking her out, wining and dining her, taking her away for the weekend, especially if he had a decent car for sale. He liked to show off if he had a Mercedes or a BMW, and Janice, she was a sucker for men with big cars; equates to something or other, or is it the opposite, I can’t remember. Not that it ever concerned me. Janice lives in America now, has done for many years.’
‘He wasn’t going to succeed with you, was he?’ Wendy said, more perceptive than Larry.
‘I like men as friends, not as lovers. That’s the way it’s been since I was thirteen. Nothing wrong with it, and Stephen didn’t care either way. I was sixteen when we first met, before he went to London, although we kept in touch, spoke all the time on the phone. He liked to talk to women, sometimes just as friends, other times, well, you’ve been told about him. The man was incorrigible, although always charming and courteous, and generous with the woman. Some men treat the women as if they’re chattels, but not Stephen. Always opening the door for them, complimenting them. He was someone I could talk to when I had a broken heart, a shoulder to lean on. My parents abhorred what I had become, chastised themselves for my upbringing, wondering where they had gone wrong.’
‘Your relationship with your parents now?’
‘Terse. Nothing said, not any more, but they never want to meet my partner, and we’ve been together for sixteen years, joint ownership of this restaurant.’
‘We need your help, Bec,’ Larry said.
‘How? I’m not sure how I can help.’
‘At the funeral, Bob Palmer mentioned three women. You’re one, then there was Liz Spalding. We intend to have the same conversation with her soon enough. There was a third woman who kept to herself, didn’t speak to anyone, and left before the proceedings had ended. Do you remember her?’
‘It was a long time ago, and I wasn’t in a fit condition to look at anyone.’
‘According to Palmer, you held it together, although Liz Spalding didn’t.’
‘Liz, she was a friend of Janice’s at school. She was living up in London at the time, going around with Stephen. She’s the emotional type, tears at the drop of a hat. As for me, I keep it bottled up, but I was as upset as she was.’
‘The other woman?’
‘I vaguely remember someone, but that’s all. I’ll try to think back to then after you’ve gone, but I’m certain I won’t be able to help you. Sorry.’
***
Even after the early-morning meeting, the drive to Oxford, the interviews with Bob Palmer and Bec Johnson, and then the journey back to London in the pelting rain, Isaac still expected the two officers to be in the office for a debriefing.
It was nine thirty in the evening, and even though their DCI had apologised for bringing them into the office, he had been adamant about the need to meet regularly. Wendy had no issue with it, as she had managed to grab a hamburger at McDonald’s on the way down the motorway. Larry, determined to eat a salad at home with his wife, was feeling miserable; his body ached, his head throbbed, his throat felt as though he’d drunk disinfectant. If food had appeared in the office, especially one of Bridget’s home-made cakes, he knew his resistance would not hold out.
Thankfully for Larry, Bridget had no cakes, not even a biscuit. The most Inspector Hill was going to get was a cup of coffee, no sugar, and a thirty-minute debrief, a run-through on the