by Jill McGown
Lloyd replaced the receiver, and stood up. ‘I’ll have another go,’ he said to Judy, and walked back down the corridor. He had meant to ask if she’d seen the news, but he might see her later. He pushed open the door of the interview room. ‘Tell me again,’ he said, removing his jacket, and hanging it over the back of the seat. ‘From when you went into the café.’
Christopher James Wade sat at the table, his NHS crutch leaning against it, his plastered foot sticking out uncomfortably, telling the same story every time.
‘I went in with her and shone the torch round. A table had been knocked over, I said how did that happen, she said she knocked it over in the dark.’ It was said in a sing-song, here-we-go-again fashion. Lloyd was seized with a fortunately controlled desire to kick his bad foot.
‘Keep going – I’ll stop you when I want more detail.’
Wade glared at him. ‘I picked it up. I started looking for her pen, and she said it was all right, she hadn’t really left her pen there at all.’ He fiddled with the signet ring that he wore on his little finger. I said why were we there, and she said because she didn’t want to go back to the Mitchells. I said why, and she said she’d rather be with me.’
Lloyd, tired of the view of the town centre closing down for the night, walked slowly across to Wade. ‘And what did you think of that?’ he asked wearily.
‘I didn’t know what to think.’
‘Well, then—’ Lloyd sat down. ‘What did you say?’
‘I said she hadn’t given me that impression earlier.’ Wade tried to arrange his long legs more comfortably. ‘And she said that it wasn’t a compliment – just that I was the lesser of two evils. I asked her what she meant, and she started going on about Helen. It ended up with a slanging match, and I left.’
For a long time, Lloyd didn’t speak, but Wade could play at that game too. ‘OK,’ he said, running a hand over his face. ‘I’m going to have something to eat. And I’ll tell the canteen to rustle something up for you to eat. And we are both going to eat whatever it is we get, and then I’ll come back, and you can tell me it all again.’
‘I am not going through all that again!’ Wade shouted. ‘I’ve told you twice – that’s it. I don’t have to speak to you!’
‘No, you don’t. I told you that, remember? You don’t have to say anything, but anything you do say will be written down and may be given in evidence. You say you don’t want a solicitor – fine. But you are not telling me the truth, so if you do say anything when I come back it won’t just be the same again. You’ll be telling me the truth this time.’
‘I am telling you the truth!’
‘Then why were you hiding out in a workmen’s hut running with damp, used by all the animals in Christendom, making yourself ill? Why? Because you’d had a difference of opinion with someone?’
‘Because you were after me for killing her!’ Wade hid his face. ‘Because I was drunk, and I couldn’t be sure.’
‘Sure of what?’
‘If I’d – I was drunk! I just ran, that’s all.’
‘From what, Mr Wade?’ Lloyd leant forward. ‘How did you know there was anything to run from?’
‘I—’ Wade looked bewildered. ‘The radio – they said . . .’
‘We were at your garage and your house by half past six in the morning. It wasn’t on the radio until much later.’
Wade, tight-lipped, just shook his head.
‘I went to see her in-laws,’ Lloyd continued conversationally. ‘Shortly after she was found. When I arrived, there were three mugs on the coffee table.’ He smiled friendlily at Wade. ‘It was odd, that – struck me at the time. She – Helen Mitchell – said that they were the previous night’s. Now me, I’d leave last night’s washing up – but her? I couldn’t see it myself. But then it got curiouser and curiouser. See – she had this friend staying with her. No – I tell a lie – she was visiting, just for the day. But Julia Mitchell was there too. That made four of them. Then her husband and Julia go off – that just leaves two. Then she takes her friend to the station, and she’s in on her own. Then her husband comes back – and that makes two again.’
Wade wasn’t dreadfully impressed.
‘You see? There was no time when there were only three people in the house.’
‘There’s no law against not having coffee,’ Wade said.
‘None. Except that we know Julia did – I won’t go into that, it’s a bit upsetting – and I know her friend did, because I got the local police to ask, despite their thinking I was a bit tapped. And she said “I had a visitor” to explain them – why there were three, and not just two. So that suggested herself, her husband, and – you?’
Wade just sat there.
‘That’s how you knew, isn’t it? Because I was at the door, telling them she was dead and that I was looking for you. Isn’t it?’
‘No.’
‘Then the only other explanation is that you knew she was dead because you killed her. Which do you prefer?’
With that, Lloyd went off in search of food, and found Judy in the canteen, in solitary splendour.
‘Are you still here?’ he asked, joining her.
‘No, I went home half an hour ago. I’ve had Donald Mitchell touting for business, and three people who were nowhere near the area at the time, and—’ she broke off. ‘You didn’t catch the 5.45 news?’
‘No. I was with Wade – how did it go?’
She caught her lip. ‘I don’t know how to tell you this, really.’ She looked suspiciously as though she were going to laugh.
Lloyd narrowed his eyes. ‘What?’
‘Well—’
He tried not to look too disappointed when she told him. He’d never hear the end of it if he did. It was difficult to know how to look. Laughing it off as though he was on television every night would produce much the same result.
‘Not a word?’
She shook her head. ‘They didn’t fit you in later, I’m afraid.’ And with that, the self-control snapped, and she began to laugh. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, with difficulty. ‘I really am – it was just – of all the things to—’
And her laughter began to make him laugh, until the two of them were giggling like school-girls. It was brought to a sudden and not entirely successful halt by the appearance of more customers, when they tried to behave like dignified officers of the law.
‘Do you want to sit in on the rest of this interview?’ he asked, when order was restored. ‘Someone else there – a different approach. Just ask any questions that occur to you.’
‘Yes, I would like to – just kick me if you want me to shut up.’
‘I’ll remember that,’ Lloyd promised.
‘Why won’t he have a solicitor?’ Donald demanded.
Helen carried on laying the table in what seemed to Donald to be a particularly annoying fashion. ‘Because he didn’t do it,’ she said calmly.
‘All right! He didn’t do it – that’s no reason to refuse a solicitor. Solicitors aren’t just for defending the guilty, you know! Why in God’s name wouldn’t he just ask for one?’
‘Why are you behaving as though it was my fault?’ Helen asked, reasonably enough.
Donald picked up the paper. ‘It’s so stupid,’ he said. ‘Of all the people in the world – no one needs a solicitor like Chris Wade does now.’
‘Why?’ Helen put down the place mats. ‘If he’s done nothing wrong?’
‘For Christ’s sake, Helen – you know what he’s like. He’s never had to stand on his own two feet in his life. First it was his big sister, then it was Carrie, then it was me—’ He folded the paper firmly. ‘Then it was you – let’s not beat about the bush. He’s always needed someone to lean on – and now, now of all times, he’s got to play the hero.’
‘If he’s got nothing to hide—’
Donald closed his eyes. Heaven only knew what he was telling them. ‘He has got something to hide,’ he said. ‘He was here – and we lied to the police. You know him a
s well as I do.’ He smiled. ‘You know him rather better than I do,’ he amended. ‘He’ll be telling all sorts of stories to cover up for us. And he’ll be making matters worse every time he opens his mouth.’
Helen sat down opposite him. ‘So it isn’t concern for Chris that’s got you all hot and bothered?’
‘No it isn’t. I’m a solicitor! I can’t get mixed up in this sort of thing. If he’d just asked for me – anyone – it wouldn’t be so bad.’
‘But if he didn’t do it.’
Donald despaired of her. She really thought that if you didn’t do it, there was nothing to worry about.
‘Look – he was in there with her. We know that, because he told us. The police know it. He practically forced her to take a lift with him – and then he ran away, and she was found strangled. If he didn’t do it, it hardly matters. The police have evidence that says he did. And he needs a solicitor to produce evidence that says he didn’t.’
‘You could try again.’
‘And get touting for business added to my list of offences? No thanks. I went as a friend, to see if I could help, and I was told I couldn’t. So that’s that.’
He tried reading the paper, but that hardly took his mind off it, since that was the lead story.
Judy looked at the tired, dispirited figure sitting at the table, the remains of his meal pushed away from him.
‘The tea’s good,’ she said. ‘Don’t let it get cold.’
Wade looked at her, his eyes dull. ‘Is this where you’re nice to me and he’s not?’ he asked, nodding in Lloyd’s direction. ‘I’ve seen that on the telly.’
‘No,’ Judy replied. ‘Nothing like that. It’s where I explain to you that if you didn’t kill Mrs Mitchell, then you’d better start telling us the truth, so that we can work out what did happen. If you did kill her, then you’d better explain the circumstances, so that you’ve got some sort of defence.’
‘And you care, do you? Whether I’ve got a defence?’
‘No. But you should – if not for your own sake, then for your friends’ – like Helen Mitchell, for instance.’
‘What about her?’ Wade drank some of his tea. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘It is good.’
‘Hot and strong,’ Lloyd said. ‘Like love.’
‘Speaking about love,’ Judy said, as she felt she was being prompted to, ‘Mrs Mitchell’s very fond of you, isn’t she?’
‘Is she?’ was the only response.
‘Fond enough to tell lies for you.’ Judy drank some of her own tea. ‘She had to tell the truth in the end, though – but she did try.’ She glanced at Lloyd, who had got up and was standing by the window. Wade saw the glance.
‘You’re the one that’s telling lies,’ he said.
‘No, not me,’ Judy said. ‘She has admitted that she saw you.’
They weren’t getting anywhere like this. ‘What was your row with Julia about?’
‘Helen.’
‘She seems to have been in a particularly argumentative mood. Having rows with everyone – did she say what her row with Donald was about?’
‘No.’ Wade looked surprised, as though it was the first time he’d thought about it. ‘No, she didn’t.’
‘Why did you go to your garage when you left? Why didn’t you go home, or back to your sister’s?’
Lloyd had wandered back to the table, and was standing behind Wade, who had twisted round in an effort to see him. ‘I was in a bit of a state,’ he said.
‘Why?’ Lloyd asked. ‘Because you’d had a row with Julia?’
‘Yes.’
‘A total stranger? Why should having a row with her bother you?’
Wade turned back to Judy. ‘It wasn’t the row – not really. It was the accident.’
Lloyd walked slowly round to face him. ‘What accident?’
‘Oh – it wasn’t really an accident – but it reminded me of the accident. That’s what made me get drunk.’
‘Reminded you?’ Lloyd said. ‘Of what – your wife’s accident?’
He nodded briefly.
‘What happened to remind you?’ Judy asked, as Lloyd took up his post by the window again.
‘Something ran in front of the car as I was going up to the café. I braked, and she fell forward – she didn’t hurt herself, but she could have – I swore I’d never do that again.’
‘And that upset you?’
‘Of course! It was just the same – she could have been hurt. I thought I’d never do that again, and I did. I did exactly the same thing!’ He turned his head away.
Lloyd crossed behind him, and went out of the room.
‘Your wife died and she didn’t – was that what it was?’ Judy said carefully. ‘You felt angry before you ever went into the café with her?’
‘No!’
‘But she didn’t want you to wait for her – why did you insist on going in with her?’
‘I wanted to take her to Helen’s – I told you!’ He made to jump up, and the constable whose name Judy could never remember leapt to his feet. But Wade winced and sat down again, reaching for his crutch.
‘Why? She was a grown woman – she didn’t want you.’
Wade shook his head quickly. ‘You make it sound as though I forced her – it wasn’t like that. She said not to wait for her, and I said of course I would – that was all.’ He stood up, this time with the aid of the crutch. ‘Do you mind?’ he asked. ‘I’ll get cramp if I have to sit there.’
‘Not at all.’
He took a deep breath. ‘All right – I wanted to see Helen. Donald was out of the way, and taking her back was a good excuse. If I left her there I didn’t have any reason to go to the Mitchells’ house. But when I got in there, she said she didn‘t want to go back. At first she said it was because she’d had a row with Donald and she didn’t want to see anyone until she’d calmed down. So I picked up the table and said we should sit down for a moment.’
Lloyd came back in, with more tea. ‘Thought we could do with some more,’ he said cheerily. ‘It looks as though it’s going to be a long night.’
‘At first?’ Judy repeated. ‘What did she say after that?’
‘Nothing much. She sat down, but she – she looked scared. Or cold. But it was so hot, I didn’t think she could be cold. Then I thought she might not be feeling well – flu, or something. I took off my jacket, and said if she was cold she should put it on.’
Judy wrote SCARED on her ever-present notebook, and leafed back through the pages to Diane’s evidence. She looked a bit scared, it read.
‘Scared of you?’ she asked.
Wade sat down again, easing himself on to the chair, almost falling, as his crutch crashed down to the floor. ‘I didn’t think so,’ he said. ‘She had no reason to be.’ He retrieved the crutch.
‘Scared or cold,’ Lloyd said. ‘That’s what you said, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ Wade looked at him sullenly. ‘It could have been either.’
‘What was she doing that made you think that?’
‘She kept her arms folded,’ Wade said.
‘Her arms folded?’ Judy repeated.
‘Yes,’ Wade said. ‘She was standing there with her arms folded. Even when she sat down, she kept them folded.’
‘Folded how?’ Lloyd sat down beside Judy. ‘Show me.’
Wade obliged, folding his arms as they had all been told to at school. ‘You know,’ he said.
‘And she did make you angry?’
‘Yes. We sat there for a few moments – then I offered her my jacket, but she didn’t want it. I tried to talk to her – just small talk, but she didn’t want to know. So I asked if she was feeling all right.’
‘And?’
‘She said she’d feel better if I would just go. And I said if she didn’t feel well, she should let me take her back to Helen’s.’
‘How long do you think you’d been in there at this point?’ Judy asked.
‘About ten minutes or so. And she said I should go
if that’s what I wanted. To Helen’s, I mean. She said she knew about us. She said Donald knew.’
Lloyd sat back, tipping the chair dangerously on its back legs, and Judy braced herself for the crash that fortunately didn’t come.
‘Knew what?’ Lloyd asked.
‘There’s nothing to know,’ Wade said. ‘That’s just it. Helen isn’t like her – she doesn’t –’ he broke off.
Neither Judy nor Lloyd spoke. Wade had at last given up his attempt to say nothing, and they could just sit back and let him go.
‘She started going on about her. I said she wouldn’t understand about someone like Helen. They’d told me about her – Helen had, and Donald. No wonder someone killed her. She said I only wanted to run her back so that I could—’ he stopped, his eyes perplexed. ‘She was very crude,’ he said to Judy. ‘I don’t want to repeat what she said.’
‘All right,’ she said, amiably.
‘I told her that it wasn’t like that. It’s not!’ he said, looking from one to the other. ‘Helen believes in marriage vows – she won’t break them!’
Judy cast a sidelong glance at Lloyd.
‘So that just made her worse. She started laughing at me, and telling me to get out and get on with it. She said Helen would be grateful – and in the end she was nearly hysterical – just telling me to get out, so I did.’
Lloyd was drinking his tea unconcernedly when Wade finished his story. He set down the mug, and looked at him. ‘That was when you killed her, was it?’ he asked quietly.
‘I didn’t – she was perfectly all right when I left. She was all right – she said she was!’
Judy looked up sharply from her notebook. ‘Said she was?’
Wade had gone pale, ‘I mean – she was all right.’
‘Why did she say she was?’
‘I didn’t mean that – I meant—’ He closed his eyes.
‘When did she hit her head on the table?’ Lloyd asked.
He opened his eyes again, and frowned. ‘She didn’t,’ he said.
‘Well, there was a cut on her face. Her blood was on the table. Varnish from the table was in the cut. What conclusion would you come to?’
‘But she didn’t hurt herself – she wasn’t bleeding.’