***
Laura shouted up the stairs to Imogen. She knew she shouldn’t disturb her, but somebody was ringing the front door bell. She didn’t know how they’d got past the gate, but perhaps the gardeners had left it open. Whatever the reason, she wanted Imogen with her in case it was a reporter.
Becky had appeared out of her ‘office’ but seeing that Imogen was making her way quickly down the stairs, Laura smiled and shook her head briefly at Becky and went to let the new arrival in. It took her a moment to register who was standing on the doorstep.
She stood in silence with her mouth slightly open as she looked into the suntanned face and bright blue eyes of one of the few people she was happy to see. She saw the sorrow in those eyes, but whether it was a sign of sympathy for her or for the sadness in his own life she didn’t know. His attempt at levity broke the spell.
‘Close your mouth, sis. It’s really not very becoming.’
‘Oh my God! It really is you. I know you told Imo that you’d come, but I never thought you’d make it so quickly. Oh Will - it’s so wonderful to see you.’
Laura flung her arms around her brother’s waist, and clung onto him for dear life, loving the warmth of his familiar broad body. She felt his arms go round her, and she welcomed the feeling of safety that nothing but a hug from somebody close to you can offer. But it wasn’t to last for long. From just above her head, she heard her brother speak quietly.
‘Hello Imogen.’
Silence.
She was glad that her head was buried in his chest, because she didn’t want to see the glances that passed between them. Neither of these two had ever found anybody else to love, and she knew without a doubt that this was down to Hugo. She didn’t know what she could do to mend what he had so carelessly broken, but she knew she was going to try.
Pulling back, she suggested they went into the drawing room. She couldn’t get enough of looking at Will. His blond hair had been bleached to pale gold by the sun, and his rugged features were suntanned. His shoulders - always broad - made him seem like a giant of a man as he looked down from his six feet four inches of solid rock. He looked like the safest port in any storm.
It was clear that Imogen and Will couldn’t really decide how to behave. Should they hug each other, as they both clearly wanted to, or should they remain aloof? The latter option obviously appeared the safer to both of them.
Laura was aware of the tension in the room and all three of them looked slightly uncomfortable, as if one person shouldn’t really be there but it wasn’t clear which one. They filled a ten minute gap with small talk about Will’s job, Imogen’s life in Canada, and the improvements that Laura was making to the house. Then Will broke the spell.
‘Okay you two. Enough of the idle chatter. You’d better tell me what’s been going on. I won’t pretend to have liked your husband, Laura, but I can’t imagine why anybody would have wanted to murder him.’
‘Will, it’s a long story. The last few days have been hell. Before we start on that, I’ll go and tell Mum you’re here. She’s probably in the kitchen. She seems to be of the opinion that we all need to be fattened up, and that chocolate cake cures everything.’
As she stood up, she glanced out of the window and was surprised to see Tom Douglas standing by a marked police car. And two uniformed policeman were getting out. Laura felt a tightness in her chest.
‘What’s going on? Tom’s here and he’s got uniforms with him. What do you think it means, Imo?’
Laura cast an anxious look in Imogen’s direction.
‘Calm down, Laura. It’s probably nothing. They no doubt missed something in their search, so they’re coming to have another look. Go and let them in, or I’ll go if you like.’
Laura was out of the door before Imogen could get to her feet. Becky was already opening the front door, and as her eyes briefly met Laura’s she looked away.
Tom stood on the doorstep, and looked at Laura.
‘I’m sorry to intrude, Lady Fletcher. May we come in?’ He glanced enquiringly at Will, who had followed her into the hall with Imogen close on his heels.
Laura was not slow to miss the formality, nor the grim expression on Tom’s face. Trying to keep it light, she responded in kind.
‘Of course, Chief Inspector. May I introduce my brother, Will Kennedy. He’s just arrived. Can I offer you something to drink? The ubiquitous cup of tea, perhaps?’
Tom took a couple of steps into the hall, but came no further.
‘No, thank you. I’m sorry, but we need to ask Mrs Kennedy some questions.’ He turned to Imogen who was still hovering in the door to the drawing room. ‘Mrs Kennedy, there are two uniformed police officers here. They will accompany you back to New Scotland Yard for some questioning. Detective Chief Superintendent James Sinclair, who you met briefly on the night of Sir Hugo’s death, will conduct the first part of the interview. You’ll be cautioned when you arrive. I’ll join you later when I’ve asked Lady Fletcher a few more questions.’
Imogen didn’t move. Her face didn’t alter.
Will had advanced further into the hallway, initially to shake the detective’s hand, but now he took up a belligerent stance.
‘May I ask why you’re taking my wife in for questioning, Detective Chief Inspector? And if you’re cautioning her, does that mean you’re arresting her?’
‘We have new evidence, sir, and it relates to your ex-wife. I’m not at liberty to discuss it with you until I have spoken to your ex-wife.’
Laura could see that Tom was determined to differentiate between wife past or present.
Will turned to Imogen, frowning in his concern.
‘Imo, what’s all this about? Do you want me to get you a lawyer?’
It was obvious that Will’s mention of a lawyer had spurred Imogen to life. She gave an exaggerated sigh.
‘Will, shut up. You don’t know anything about this, so please just butt out.’
Laura was distressed. Her voice was quiet, but shaking with emotion.
‘Imo, you don’t need to go through this. You mustn’t. It’s not right. I’ll speak to Tom. I’ll sort it, okay?’
Imogen’s jacket was lying on a chair at the bottom of the stairs and she grabbed it in one hand and turned quickly to face Laura.
‘Laura, will you just shut the fuck up too, please? I didn’t kill Hugo. You know that, and I know that - and I bloody hope you know that too, Will. So just leave it. It’s just questioning. If they arrest and charge me, they’ll be in trouble because they can’t have any evidence if I didn’t do it, can they? Now calm down, have a large gin, and I’ll see you later. I don’t need a lawyer. I’m absolutely fine.’
Imogen turned to Tom who seemed to have been listening intently to this conversation.
‘I’m ready to go, Chief Inspector.’
*
There had been an undercurrent in that exchange that Tom couldn’t quite grasp. As they closed the door behind Imogen and the uniformed policemen, he turned to Laura and gave her a sympathetic smile.
‘I’m sorry about that, Laura. I had to be quite formal at that point. I’m sure you understand.’
Will interrupted before she had a chance to answer.
‘Well I don’t. Unless you have evidence, you can’t just hike her off to be interrogated. If it was just a couple of questions, why couldn’t you ask them here?’
A force to be reckoned with, thought Tom, noting Will’s aggressive pose with legs apart and hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.
‘Mr Kennedy, we have evidence that suggests your ex-wife was in London on the morning of the murder. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to talk to your sister.’
‘I’m staying with her,’ Will responded. ‘I’m sure she needs my support.’
Tom could see that Laura was visibly shaken, although he wasn’t sure which particular part of the conversation had done the damage.
‘Will, Tom and I have a good relationship. I know you mean well, but please go an
d find Mum. She’ll be delighted to see you, and somebody needs to tell her about Imogen. I’m comfortable talking to Tom alone. Please, Will?’
Clearly not happy with this outcome, he eventually complied and begrudgingly left the hall. Laura indicated that they should move to the drawing room, and Tom waited until they were seated before he spoke again.
‘Thank you Laura. I’ve got a number of things that I want to ask you, and some are quite sensitive.’
He could see that she was uneasy, but he needed her to relax if he was going to get anything out of her.
‘How’ve you been, Laura? I notice that you’ve been making a few changes - definitely for the better.’
Tom hoped she thought he was referring to the alterations to the house and grounds, but he hadn’t missed the improvements to Laura herself. Today she had some colour in her cheeks, and once again had chosen a bright jumper, this time a petrol blue - so much better for her than the washed out beige she’d been wearing when they met. It was hard to believe it was the same person he’d seen for the first time only a few days ago. And she appeared to have more confidence.
But she was clearly very upset about Imogen being taken in for questioning, and despite her assurances to her brother, Tom could tell from her tone of voice that he wasn’t her favourite person today.
‘Never mind the gardens for the moment. Just tell me what you can possibly have found that in any way links Imogen to Hugo’s murder?’
‘I’m sorry but I can’t say anything else at the moment. As soon as I can, I promise that I’ll explain it to you.’
Tom knew this wasn’t going to satisfy Laura, so decided it would be best to move on quickly.
‘This is difficult, I know - but could you talk to me a little bit about your illnesses, do you think? I asked you this the other day, but events overtook us. I know it might not seem relevant to you, but I’m just trying to get a picture. Is that okay?’
Laura had lost the hard edge to her voice, but it was tight with tension.
‘The first time I was sectioned - horrible word, I know - I was classed as being severely depressed. Hannah - Alexa’s nanny - and Hugo had found me huddled in a room in one of the disused areas of the house.’
‘Do you know what brought that on? Was there some specific incident?’
‘From what I’ve learned about clinical depression, it can hit anybody at any time and for no apparent reason.’
Recognising that this was not an answer, nor was it intended to be, Tom probed a little more.
‘Were you locked in the room where they found you?’ he asked gently.
‘Apparently the door could be opened from the inside, so that would suggest not.’
She was so good at not lying, but not actually answering either. He needed to get her to look it him. Since asking about Imogen, she had been fixing her gaze on anything but him. He could understand that this was a difficult subject, but he had wasted too much time already.
‘Laura, we’ve not known each other long, but I think that we already hold a mutual respect for each other, and there’s something you’re not telling me. Your husband’s ex-wife is currently in a state of near panic over information that she gave me. The will showed Hugo for what he was, and I can only conclude that there were sides to him that didn’t quite live up to his public image. Becky also overhead you talking about Rohypnol. This all ties together somehow, and I’d really like you to explain it to me.’
Finally she looked at him, and nobody could miss the pain that was reflected in her eyes. He saw her swallow hard, and knew that he had touched a raw nerve. He felt a sharp shard of guilt, but these questions did have to be asked, and he would rather ask them himself than pass them on to somebody who didn’t feel any connection with Laura.
‘Tom, this is difficult and painful for me. My husband is dead, and our marriage was far from the perfect dream that everybody was supposed to believe. But I don’t think that anything is going to be gained by looking into its dismal depths now, do you?’
She needed time, Tom decided, and perhaps examining the dregs of her marriage wasn’t going to be quite as productive in the short term as understanding some of the other pieces of the puzzle.
‘I don’t entirely agree, but for now we can move onto something else and come back to it later. I want to talk to you about Danika Bojin.’
Tom was not surprised to see that Laura was plainly even more uneasy with the change of subject.
‘You heard the message on the answer phone the other day about Danika Bojin. I can’t help but wonder why you didn’t mention that you knew her. She’s now turned up safely, thank goodness, but we know that she came to see you about two years ago. Do you want to tell me about it?’
The expressions that had flitted across Laura’s face during this brief exchange of information had been indecipherable. Tom couldn’t decide if it was relief or fear that he was witnessing. Laura’s face hadn’t changed, but her eyes were so very expressive.
‘I’m delighted to hear that Danika is safe,’ she said. ‘I was concerned when I heard the message, but I’m so far removed from the charity that I didn’t feel in a position to help. Danika came to see Hugo, but he wasn’t in thank goodness. He’d have been furious. Anyway, she told me that one of her friends was missing and I said I’d try to look into it for her.’
Tom felt that she was brushing this off far too easily.
‘Unfortunately, it wasn’t long after that that I became ill again, so I was never able to help her. That’s why I was so upset when I heard the message.’
‘Didn’t you ask Hugo to help?’
Tom noticed that once again, Laura couldn’t meet his eyes, a definite habit when she wanted to disguise her thoughts.
‘Yes, of course I did. He told me he would deal with it, and to keep my nose out of his charity affairs.’
‘And did you keep your nose out of it?’
Laura raised her chin defiantly, and looked Tom straight in the eye.
‘Of course I did.’
Tom didn’t believe her for one single moment.
CHAPTER 28
Imogen couldn’t help feeling nervous as she was led into the interview room. Perhaps everybody, guilty or innocent, felt this way. She knew she had to disguise this emotion, though. It always seemed to indicate guilt, as far as she could see. She had refused a lawyer for two reasons. She hoped it would make her appear confident of her innocence, and more to the point, she didn’t want to have anybody else probing into her recent movements. She wished with all her heart that Will hadn’t been there. She hadn’t seen him for years, and then suddenly there he was. But within moments she’d had to suffer the indignity of being taken into police custody - or at least, taken away for questioning. All she wanted was to be where he was, just one more time.
Imogen had used the hour long car journey to decide on the approach she was going to take, and despite an empty and slightly nauseous feeling in her stomach, she was determined to appear self-assured. All they had was circumstantial evidence. And she was seriously worried about Laura. Tom Douglas had managed to get under her skin, and there were things that he mustn’t know.
She took her seat opposite DCS Sinclair and one of his officers and did her best to appear calm, while struggling to come to terms with the fact that she was being officially questioned in a murder investigation, and had even been cautioned. She looked at the deceptively kind face of the senior police officer, but wasn’t taken in for a moment by his apparent benevolence. It was so difficult to read his expression, anyway, as one half of his face seemed to frown whilst the other smiled. She decided she would focus on the frowning side to ensure that she didn’t get lulled into a feeling of false security.
‘Chief Superintendent, I do understand your point of view. If you say there was an Imogen Dubois on the Eurostar from Paris to London and then London to Paris, I can’t dispute that. But surely you can check credit card payments, or online bookings or whatever you do to get a ticket on Eu
rostar, and prove that it was a different Imogen Dubois?’
James Sinclair nodded sagely, as if this were a wise comment.
‘Mrs Kennedy, of course that’s the first thing we would have done. But as luck would have it, the tickets were purchased with cash, from the sales point on Regent Street. It’s quite unusual for people to pay in cash these days, you know. In fact, it’s extremely unusual. So unusual that it makes me wonder why somebody would do it.’
There was a slight note of sarcasm in his voice - something that Imogen had never encountered with Tom Douglas. She was going to have to take care.
‘Who knows, Chief Superintendent. Perhaps they’d just had a lucky win on the horses or something. And if you believe it was me, that rather suggests that I was in London at the time the tickets were bought, doesn’t it? I presume you’ve checked if that’s the case?’
Imogen was feeling pleased with herself, but the policeman changed the subject abruptly, throwing her slightly off balance again.
‘I understand that you have your laptop computer with you at the house in Oxfordshire. We would very much like to take a look at it, with your permission. Of course, we can go through the whole paperwork approach and get a warrant, but if you’ve got nothing to worry about, you won’t mind if we take a look, will you?’
Imogen tried hard to control the hard jerk of fear. From the slight narrowing of his eyes, she suspected the policeman hadn’t missed her reaction. She answered as calmly as possible.
‘Of course. It’s not a problem. If you could ask Laura to get it, it’s in my bedroom. She’ll know where to look.’
The Chief Superintendent signalled the policeman standing by the door, who immediately left the room. This time when he smiled, both sides of his face lifted. He was one smooth customer.
(2011) Only the Innocent Page 31