by Mel Sherratt
The door opened and the female officer, who had arrived at the scene shortly after the paramedics, came into the room.
‘Hello, Esther. I’m DC Evans. You remember I was at Mr Maitland’s house?’
Esther nodded, wondering if she thought she was either stupid or in shock. Of course, she remembered the detective. She’d seen her less than an hour ago.
She studied her face. At a guess, she was around late-twenties, her skin fresh and blemish free. She wore a bit of make-up, and her blonde hair was tied back away from her face. She’d seemed friendly enough earlier but that didn’t mean Esther would trust her. She didn’t trust the police.
But she had to make the copper think she had her total confidence. She sat forward attentively, sniffing and wiping at her eyes as she squeezed out a tear.
‘I must tell you that you are not under arrest but you are under caution as one of two people to last see Jack Maitland alive. This is a routine interview.’ Her smile was warm. ‘Can you tell me what happened from the minute you got to Jack Maitland’s house to the time that he died, please?’
‘Jack wanted to see Tamara and me, to run through a few suggestions that he’d thought of for the PR campaign we are all working on,’ Esther began. ‘Jack’s wife had taken their children to visit his in-laws, so he suggested we meet there for an hour. Everything has gone a bit hectic since the launch of a book we are all working on so he had been snowed under during the week.’
‘What time did you arrive at his house?’
‘I got there around half past twelve but Tamara was delayed. I rang her to see where she was around one-thirty; Jack and I had already started on the wine by then.’
‘So, there was just you and Jack until what time?’
‘Just before 2.00 p.m.’
‘Do you know why Tamara was delayed?’
Esther waited for her to finish writing before continuing. ‘She said she had been catching up on some work and it had taken her longer than anticipated. When Tamara joined us, we chatted for a few minutes and then Jack excused himself. When he got up, I remember he stumbled a bit. We’d drank a lot of wine while we’d been waiting for Tamara.’ Esther made her eyes well up with tears. ‘I wish we hadn’t now.’
Carley’s smile was sympathetic. ‘So, Jack went into the house?’
‘Yes. Tamara and I sat talking. At first, we didn’t think anything of him not appearing after a few minutes but then it became obvious that he wasn’t going to come back into the garden.
‘We went inside the house. I dropped the glasses on to the worktop while Tamara went to see where he was. It was then that she shouted me through as she had found him at the bottom of the stairs. We rang for an ambulance but it was too late.’
‘Did you realise he had died?’
Esther nodded slowly. ‘We didn’t want to admit it to each other, but yes.’
‘But you didn’t see him fall?’
‘No.’
‘You didn’t hear anything?’
‘There was music on in the garden and we were sitting quite a way from the house.’ Esther sat up straighter, panic on her face. ‘Do you think we could have saved him if we’d heard him fall? Please don’t say it was our fault he died.’
‘We can’t be certain of anything at the moment. We’re gathering together the facts. Do you know Mrs Maitland?’
‘I met her briefly last Thursday. The book launch was at Jack’s house. She seemed nice but I only spoke to her for a few minutes. It was a very busy evening.’
The detective finished writing and slid a small, black notepad and pen across to her. ‘Can you read through this, and sign it if you agree with it? If I’ve missed anything or written something wrong, please say.’
Esther quickly skimmed through it all, and signed it. Everything was fine by her. She just had to wait and see what Tamara had said now. And then get back to the flat. She had to make sure everything was hidden in case the police came looking too early.
CHAPTER FORTY
Tamara checked her watch and wondered how long she’d have to be there before someone came to see her. Maybe there wasn’t anyone to interview either of them yet, or maybe Esther was being seen first. She hoped it wouldn’t be long.
She couldn’t believe that Jack was dead. He had so much to live for – a beautiful house, family, a fabulous business, and career. He was well respected in his field and he was going to be sorely missed.
Selfishly she thought about their working relationship and if it would transfer to the new owner of Dulston Publishing. She wasn’t sure she could work, for example, for Oscar.
Perhaps the staff members would do a joint buy-out. Maybe Natalie wouldn’t want to sell, preferring to leave it for her children as their legacy. She could easily get someone in to run it.
She sighed, annoyed with herself. Even if no one was really indispensable work-wise, they were all missed personally. Those poor boys.
Twenty minutes later, the female detective she’d met earlier came in. She sat down opposite her and flipped open a notepad. Her smile was reassuring when she looked up. DC Carley Evans introduced herself again and ran through the formalities before she began.
Tamara moved her hands to her lap as they began to shake. A rush of déjà vu came over her but she buried it quickly.
‘Can you run me through your day, and then as you got to Jack Maitland’s home please? What time you arrived, what you were doing before, what you did, why you were there etc.’
‘I was supposed to turn up to the house around one but I had been finishing up some work.’
‘So, you left for Mr Maitland’s home at …?’
‘Half past one. It’s a twenty-minute drive from my flat in Westminster. I arrived at Jack’s house just before two. Jack poured me a small glass of wine with soda water and we sat out in the garden.’
‘You were celebrating your recent marketing campaign being a success, I believe?’
Tamara nodded. ‘The book launch went down really well.’
‘You’re telling me! I’m seeing it everywhere at the moment.’ Carley smiled. ‘So, all three of you were sitting in the garden?’
‘Yes. We chatted for a few minutes and then Jack excused himself. I stayed with Esther outside until we wondered where he’d got to. I needed the bathroom and Esther went to refill our drinks, so we both went in to the house.’
‘I’m surprised you didn’t hear him fall. He took quite a tumble down those stairs.’
Tamara watched as the detective wrote down what she said. Then she looked up at her again.
‘So, what happened then?’
‘I – I went into the hallway.’
‘You didn’t go upstairs?’
Tamara shook her head vehemently. ‘I found him at the bottom of the stairs.’ She shuddered at the image that came to mind, of Jack lying on his side with a blank expression, blood coming from the back of his head.
‘What did you do then?’
‘I shouted through to Esther and told her to call an ambulance.’
‘And she did that straight away?’
‘No. She was a bit hysterical when she saw him so I rang instead.’
‘Did you know he was dead?’
‘I wasn’t certain but we couldn’t rouse him awake,’ Tamara explained. ‘I couldn’t find a pulse but then I’m not medically trained so I might have missed it. Then the paramedics arrived.’
Tamara let Carley catch up with her again.
Carley scanned the notes, slid the pad across the desk and handed her the pen. ‘Now, you’re quite sure that this is an accurate statement of what happened this afternoon?’
Tamara paled. Did she know she was lying?
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she told her.
‘So you were there when Jack Maitland died?’
‘Yes, but I didn’t see him die.’
Carley made Tamara feel uncomfortable with her stare. Did she know?
‘You’ve lied to the police before, haven’t you, Ms P
arker-Brown?’
Tamara gulped. She knew.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Esther sat on the low wall across from the police station, keeping an eye on the entrance. It was past six-thirty, and London was gearing up for a long and hot Saturday evening. Everyone seemed in high spirits. People were going home with shopping for barbecues, as some were dressed up ready to go out.
She had to see Tamara. She wouldn’t be able to settle until she’d heard what she had said to the police. One slip up and everything could be over.
He deserved what he got.
Esther shook her head to rid herself of the images in her mind. She wasn’t sure Jack had deserved to be killed but she wasn’t going to dwell on that. All she could think about was keeping it from everyone about what had really happened.
It was an accident.
Yes, that’s right, she told herself. It was an accident. Jack tripped and fell down the stairs.
Her head was banging, her mouth dry, signs she was on a come down from the amphetamines. She’d only got a few bags of speed left now and would have to hide them once she got back to her flat, in case the police decided to visit.
If she had some with her now, she would take a hit but then again, maybe it was best that she hadn’t, given the circumstances.
It was over thirty minutes later that Tamara emerged. Her face painted that picture of a thousand words as she rushed down the street. She had clearly been crying, her shoulders drooped.
‘Tamara!’ Esther shouted.
Tamara turned but, when she saw Esther, she kept on walking. Esther waited for traffic to pass before running across the road to her. She caught up with her and placed a hand on Tamara’s shoulder.
Tamara flinched. ‘Leave me alone.’
‘I only want to see how you are.’
‘How do you think I am?’
‘I know. It’s such a shock, isn’t it?’
They were nearing the corner of the road, walking past The Dog and Duck. People milled around outside and they slalomed through them on the pavement.
‘I need a drink,’ Tamara said and went inside.
Esther followed her. After they were served, they sat down at a table.
Tamara played with the corner of the beer mat before she looked up at her, eyes brimming with tears.
‘I didn’t tell you everything about Michael. Because of him, I – I have a criminal record.’
‘What?’ Esther’s eyes widened in disbelief. That could ruin everything.
Tamara took a deep breath before beginning. ‘Michael invited me round for a meal one night, about a month after our relationship had ended. We spent about an hour together. I thought everything was fine when I left, but I was arrested several hours later. He had keyed his own car, and cut up his clothes. He told the police that I had pushed my way in, trashed the flat, and assaulted him. He even had a bruise on his face, which he admitted to me long afterwards had hurt like hell as he’d hit himself with a saucepan.’
‘The bastard!’ Esther leaned forward attentively.
Tamara nodded. ‘Michael was so convincing. I was charged with harassment and fined for assaulting him and for damaging property. And then …’ Tamara paused as if struggling to find the right words. ‘I became ill and ended up in hospital for a few months.’
Esther covered her mouth with her hand, as if in shock. But inside she was secretly delighted. This was perfect. It could take the scent off her completely if anything was pointed at her.
‘You poor thing,’ she said, as she dropped her hand and rested it on Tamara’s.
‘That’s why I set up my own company. I have a criminal record – despite having the family name behind me, no one wanted to know me then.’
Esther frowned. ‘I don’t understand what that has to do with today.’
‘I didn’t want them to find out about my past but they already knew. I should have known they would check their records, but until they did I wasn’t going to say anything. Now they think I’m a liar.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I haven’t told the truth in the past. You know how the police can twist things.’
‘There’s nothing to twist!’
Tamara nodded.
‘But they believed you, right?’ Esther held her breath.
‘I think so.’ Tamara pushed aside her glass, having not drank a drop, and stood up. ‘I need to collect my car from Jack’s house. They said I could. Can I give you a lift home afterwards?’
‘No, thanks. I need some fresh air.’
‘Are you going to be okay?’
Esther nodded. ‘You?’
‘I think so. I feel a bit shocked that he’s dead.’
‘Me too.’
After Tamara had left, Esther stayed in the pub. She bought herself a double vodka and sat back to enjoy it. She wasn’t too worried about anything yet. All she had to do was stay calm.
Besides, she was too busy trying to work out how this new information about Tamara would come in handy.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Tamara couldn’t rest once she was home. The afternoon’s events kept running on a loop in her mind. She deeply regretted lying, especially now that her past record had been brought up. How did she even think that it wouldn’t be?
She put her head in her hands and wept, because she was as bad as Esther when it came to lying. She hadn’t told the truth about what had really happened with Michael.
Even though she would never forget any detail of what had occurred, she tried not to think about it too much. Sometimes it would rear its ugly head and she’d be down about things for a day or two, especially if things in general weren’t going too well. As far as she’d been concerned it was over and done with and she didn’t want to remember any of it.
But today had caused a lot of the pain and humiliation to resurface. She dragged a cushion from the settee and hugged it to her chest for comfort. Talking about it with Esther that afternoon had intensified it all over again. The truth was far too embarrassing to tell her because it hadn’t been Michael who had done all the things she’d mentioned. It had been her.
She had keyed Michael’s car, got into his flat and cut up his clothes. She had punched him in the face when he’d tried to calm her down. He hadn’t retaliated at all, except to call the police. That’s when she’d been arrested and charged with assault and criminal damage.
Things had gradually worsened then and she’d spiralled completely out of control. She wasn’t interested in eating. She began to drink a lot more than usual, often waking up still drunk from the night before. Back then she’d been working for her brother at his firm. She’d had a senior position as an office manager but the responsibility that came with it had been too much.
When she kept ringing in sick, even after far more chances than any normal employer would have given her, she was let go. It had been humiliating but at the time she couldn’t have cared less.
Michael wasn’t responding to her pleas for help, despite the numerous times she would call him, day or night. When he changed his number, she resorted to emails.
Eventually, he’d rung her parents to see if they could stop her, and they had made an impromptu visit. It had been evening; she’d been in her dressing gown all day, drinking and crying. The flat was a mess; she was in a worse state. She needed help.
Her parents had the money to look after her the only way they knew how. They persuaded her to be admitted to a psychiatric hospital. Tamara couldn’t look after herself, so someone needed to keep an eye on her until she was well again.
She’d hated them at the time, but they’d insisted it was for her own good. She often wondered why her brothers or sister didn’t step in to help. It still hurt that they hadn’t.
The hospital had been a hideous place. From the moment she arrived, she’d been prescribed strong anti-depressants and for the first two months she’d become a complete zombie. Once she’d taken the heavier dose, the medication was changed to something lighter
, and gradually things began to improve. By the time she was due to be released, she was feeling very much like her old self, glad to have the chance to start afresh.
At times, she struggled to understand why she had reacted in the way that she had. She was fine by herself. Because ever since, she had survived without Michael and she had come out on top. But still it was horrible to look back on. A mental breakdown was not something she was proud of.
So, when DC Evans had brought it up that afternoon, Tamara knew she shouldn’t have lied about Jack too. She knew they would find out eventually. Yet it was a little lie, one of no significance really. She hadn’t been there when Jack died but she had arrived shortly afterwards so it was only bending the truth. And if it meant she helped Esther to get out of a sticky situation, plus kept Jack’s reputation intact, then surely there was no harm in it.
She hoped Esther wasn’t too traumatised by everything. Tamara had tried ringing her but she hadn’t answered. She wondered how she was feeling, hoping she wasn’t blaming herself. If Esther hadn’t met him that afternoon then Jack might still be alive. That must be going through her mind right now, all the what ifs, buts, and maybes that people tortured themselves about after losing a loved one in an accident.
One thing was clear: Esther should never have started an affair with Jack. It was stupid and irresponsible. Yet because of her breakdown over Michael, in a way she could understand why she hadn’t wanted to bring any grief to Natalie Maitland, especially now that Jack had died. There would have been a lot more questions to answer, and it would save Natalie the pain of finding out the truth.
It was going to be hard working on the campaign now. They would have to keep everything going as normal. It wouldn’t be fair on Simone and her agent if they let things slip, not now the book was doing so well. They needed to keep things going so they could let Jack’s legacy live on, even if he wasn’t there to shine.