Suspicion

by Leigh Russell

  ‘So?’ She smiled pityingly at me. ‘My poor little sister, sending your daft emails. You always were a goose. But that doesn’t make you a bad person, just a silly one. And it certainly doesn’t make you a murderer. The police will have to keep on looking for the real killer. And don’t look so worried. They can’t charge you without any evidence. And they won’t find any evidence of something that never happened.’

  ‘Someone killed her.’

  ‘That’s got nothing to do with you.’

  As I was thanking her for her support and she was telling me there was no need for me to thank her, the doorbell rang. We heard a muted buzz of voices in the hall before Nick opened the door to the living room. Looking up, I was dismayed to see the detective inspector standing in the doorway.

  ‘Louise,’ Nick said, ‘the inspector would like another word with you.’

  ‘Can’t this wait?’ I asked. ‘This isn’t a good time, Inspector. My sister’s here and she doesn’t visit us very often.’

  ‘No, I’m afraid it can’t,’ the detective replied.

  His voice gave nothing away, but I thought his expression looked even more severe than usual.

  Meanwhile, Jen had risen to her feet. ‘I was about to go,’ she said, obliging as always. ‘My train’s due soon.’

  ‘Come on, then,’ Nick said. ‘I’ll give you a lift to the station.’

  Jen turned to me. ‘Take care, Louise, and call me any time. And I mean, any time. Make sure you let me know what happens. And don’t worry. You’ve done nothing wrong.’

  She gave me a searching look. I nodded, thanked her profusely, and saw her to the door. An unmarked police car was parked outside with a uniformed driver waiting at the wheel. Somehow I had a feeling I was going to need more than the support that Jen could offer, in the coming weeks. I stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her beloved figure walking away and climbing into the car beside Nick. I almost called out to her to beg her not to go. I wanted to be a child again, and stay at home and be looked after. With a shiver, I wondered what my circumstances might be the next time I saw her, and whether I would still be at liberty, living in my own house and sleeping in my own bed.

  Chapter 27

  Detective Inspector Jarvis sat on the sofa and stared at me without saying a word. I waited, hoping he would find the silence uncomfortable, but he continued to gaze at me with the cold detachment I had learned to expect from him.

  ‘What do you want with me this time?’ I asked at last, unable to bear the silence any longer.

  ‘We have uncovered some new evidence.’ He spoke so softly I had to strain to hear what he was saying.

  I waited for him to explain, but he said nothing else. I did my best to hold my nerve, but eventually I broke. As a detective inspector, he was more experienced in this kind of battle of wills than a woman whose only previous confrontations had been with insolent teenagers.

  ‘What new evidence is that?’ I asked. ‘And what do you want from me?’ I continued, losing my grip on the vestiges of my composure. ‘I’m not prepared to speak to you again without my lawyer present.’

  The inspector sighed. Sounding almost sorry, he said, ‘We’d like you to clarify a few things for us.’

  ‘I’ve already answered your questions,’ I replied, abandoning any attempt to keep my voice steady. But I knew I had no choice. ‘At least wait until my husband gets back. He won’t be long.’

  As the inspector glanced at his watch, we heard the front door open then close, and Nick came into the living room. He seemed surprised to see us sitting there in silence.

  ‘I thought you’d be done by now,’ he said. ‘Hasn’t Louise offered you anything? A cup of tea? Or maybe something stronger?’

  He smiled affably, slipping into his customary bonhomie and treating the detective like a parent of a pupil attending the school.

  ‘We’d like your wife to accompany us to the police station to answer a few more questions,’ the inspector replied.

  ‘Please,’ Nick waved his arm in an expansive gesture, ‘you can speak to her here.’

  ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible.’ The inspector rose to his feet in one lithe movement. ‘The car’s waiting. I’d like Mrs Kelly to come with me. Let’s not waste any more time.’

  An expression of irritation flitted across Nick’s face, but he acquiesced with a nod. For my part, I was peeved at the way they both talked over my head as though the conversation had nothing to do with me. But I had no option other than to follow the inspector out to the police car.

  ‘See you later,’ I cried out to Nick as I climbed into the car.

  ‘I’m phoning Ingrid,’ he called back. ‘She’ll be with you in no time. Wait for her. And don’t say anything until she gets there.’

  He yelled something else about the police tying people up in knots, but the car door slammed and I could no longer hear him above the noise of the engine. He had followed us out onto the drive and, as we drove away, I caught a glimpse of him talking animatedly into his phone.

  When we reached the low red brick police station, the inspector marched me inside with a uniformed constable escorting us as though I was a criminal who might try to make a run for it. The experience was both laughable and terrifying. Once inside, I had to wait for Ingrid.

  She arrived within an hour, although it felt a lot longer. This time she was wearing a silver-grey trouser suit with a navy blouse, her blond hair hung loosely to her shoulders and, as before, her make-up was impeccable. In my jeans and plain white T-shirt, I felt under-dressed sitting beside her.

  ‘What’s this about?’ she asked me.

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ I answered honestly. ‘According to the inspector they’ve found some new evidence, but I don’t know what it is. He didn’t say.’

  ‘Very well, let me do the talking. We’ll make no response until we’ve discovered what this is about and we’ve had a chance to discuss it together, in private, just the two of us. And in the meantime, don’t reply to anything they say.’

  I nodded.

  ‘Before we start, is there anything you haven’t told me?’ Her sharp eyes focused on my face, staring at me, making me feel distinctly awkward.

  I hesitated. So far I had told no one that I had been to Sue’s house, but unless my car had been spotted driving past and parking further up the hill, there was little chance anyone would know about my visit. If they did, I would deny having seen her. This was all becoming hopelessly complicated.

  ‘No,’ I answered. ‘There’s nothing else. I’ve told you everything there is to tell.’

  ‘Very well then,’ she said, as though she realised I was being evasive. ‘If you’re sure that’s all you want to tell me.’

  I had no choice but to cling to my lie. ‘It’s all there is.’

  We went to the interview room, where it didn’t escape my attention that the tape was switched on before the inspector began to question me. He was accompanied by the same dark-haired detective sergeant I had seen with him before. She gazed coolly at me with expressionless black eyes that made my skin prickle. I didn’t imagine much would escape her attention.

  ‘Did you go to Sue’s house on the twenty-sixth of June?’ the inspector asked me.

  As he mentioned a date, Ingrid glanced at me and nodded.

  ‘No,’ I replied without hesitation. It was best to appear confident in my answers. If I appeared to flounder, they might suspect I was lying. ‘No, I didn’t.’

  The inspector leaned forward slightly in his chair.

  ‘We found an unopened bottle of wine in Sue’s kitchen,’ he said softly.

  Ingrid looked at me, and I could tell she was puzzled.

  ‘An unopened bottle of wine?’ she repeated. ‘What does that have to do with my client?’

  ‘Did you take a bottle of wine to Sue’s house?’ the inspector asked me, ignoring my lawyer’s question.

  ‘My client has already told you she didn’t go to the house–’

  ‘I
have been there, to her house,’ I interrupted Ingrid, realising the police must have found my fingerprints on the door handles, as well as on the bottle. ‘I don’t deny I’ve been there. But I haven’t been there since before half term. We’ve all been running around, busy with the end-of-term arrangements, this half term. And Sue was involved in the arrangements more than anyone. I went to see her, oh, maybe six weeks ago. I’m sorry, I can’t remember exactly when. It was an informal visit, you know, near the beginning of term. I could check my diary but I don’t suppose I even made a note of it. She just asked me one day if I was free that evening, and I said I was and went over there. It wasn’t planned or anything.’

  Now it was Ingrid who interrupted me, perhaps because I was talking too much. ‘My client has answered your question. Is there anything else? Because I’d like to take a break and confer with my client.’

  ‘Can you explain why there was a bottle of white wine with your fingerprints on it in Sue’s kitchen?’

  ‘I just told you, I went to see her that one time. I might have taken a bottle of wine. I honestly can’t remember, but it’s certainly the kind of thing I would do. I can’t believe I would have gone round there empty handed.’

  ‘So you took bottle of wine with you when you visited her, but you didn’t drink it?’

  I nodded. My mouth was feeling dry and I had to force myself to speak. ‘That’s right. I remember now, I didn’t want to drink much because I was driving, and she had an opened bottle in the fridge, so we drank that.’

  ‘There were two other bottles of white wine in the fridge. Can you explain why the one with your prints on it was out on the worktop?’

  ‘I suppose she was planning to drink it.’ I shrugged. ‘Perhaps she was expecting a visitor. I’ve no idea. How should I know why she’d taken a bottle of wine out of the fridge and then not opened it.’ I frowned, trying to look as though I was baffled by the question.

  Ingrid stepped in. ‘My client is not responsible for explaining the actions of the woman whose death you are investigating,’ she said coolly. ‘And now, I think she’d like to go home.’ She stood up. ‘Come on, Louise, we’re done here.’ She turned back to the inspector. ‘I suggest you dedicate your resources to looking for your killer, and stop wasting my client’s time.’

  ‘Wait,’ I said. ‘There’s something else I want to mention.’

  Ingrid frowned at me and sat down. ‘Do you want to talk to me first?’ she hissed.

  I shook my head at her.

  The inspector fixed his unwavering gaze on me. ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘That journalist, Rosie, did have the photos I told you about. I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m sure she did.’

  I didn’t add that Rosie was avoiding seeing me, and had seemed uncomfortable when we met outside her office.

  The inspector frowned. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

  ‘My husband spoke to you about the photos I saw on Rosie’s phone, didn’t he?’

  ‘She brought two phones here, and we checked them both. We found no traces of any such images, and none had been deleted.’ I thought he sounded slightly smug.

  ‘You need to look again. The photos were there.’

  ‘I think we’ve been through this already.’

  ‘My client would like to go home now,’ Ingrid said, standing up.

  ‘Yes.’ The inspector inclined his head. ‘You can go home but don’t go anywhere, and stay in the area. You can expect to come and see us again shortly.’

  I scowled at him.

  ‘My client has told you everything she can about what happened,’ Ingrid said.

  ‘Maybe she has,’ he replied. ‘And maybe she hasn’t.’

  ‘I have,’ I said petulantly.

  Cursing the inspector’s scepticism, I went home.

  Chapter 28

  Nick was confident the police would take no further action against me, but the reality was they might pursue me and, if I was charged, there was even a danger that I might be convicted. Everything Nick and I had worked so hard to achieve would be destroyed, as I waited behind bars, perhaps for years. Of course I would appeal against any custodial sentence, but months could go by while I languished in a cell and, in the meantime, Nick’s career would be over. It was probably only because my husband was such a well-respected member of the community, and no one viewed me as a dangerous individual, that I was allowed to remain at liberty at all while the police continued their investigation.

  The only way to deflect the cloud of suspicion hovering over my name would be to discover who else could be responsible for Sue’s death. I decided to look into Rosie’s background, and question people who had known Sue, in an attempt to find a feasible explanation for what had happened. Although Nick still had to go out during the day, he was at home in the evenings, partly, I thought, so he could keep an eye on me. That evening I planned to tackle him, as someone who had worked closely with the murdered woman. I opened a bottle of his favourite Chianti to go with homemade spaghetti carbonara, and waited until he was half way through his meal before I began.

  ‘You know about those emails?’

  He grunted, seemingly preoccupied with his own thoughts.

  ‘I sent a few emails. Three, to be precise. And that was all. You believe me, don’t you?’

  He glanced up, frowning. ‘What do you mean, that was all?’

  ‘I’m talking about what I did. That was the worst of it. I mean, that was all. You do believe me, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, of course I believe you.’

  ‘Given that the police seem to suspect I killed Sue, the only way we can really clear my name and get the police off my back is if we can find out who did do it.’

  Swallowing, he put down his knife and fork and looked at me. ‘Do you know anything about her murder? Is there something you haven’t told me? Because if there is, you’d better tell me now.’

  It was the question Ingrid had asked me the last time we had spoken. I gave Nick the same answer I had given her.

  ‘Of course there isn’t. How can you even ask me that?’

  ‘I’m asking.’

  ‘I swear on my mother’s life I know nothing about her death. Nothing. I admit I sent those emails, and yes, I did my best to cover that up, but you can’t honestly say you believe me capable of murder.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have believed you were capable of sending those emails, but you did. It’s like I don’t know you anymore, Louise.’

  ‘But murder? Are you serious?’ I was shaking. ‘You must know me better than that. You’ve known me for twenty years. Nick, look at me!’

  ‘What do you expect me to say? Honestly, Louise, tell me, what am I supposed to think?’

  ‘I need you to help me find out who killed her.’

  ‘Leave that to the police. It’s not your job and it’s nothing to do with you anymore, unless you know something you’re not telling me.’

  ‘What if the police end up thinking it was me? They don’t know me. Who knows what they’re thinking.’

  Nick shook his head. ‘Of course they don’t think it was you. You’d be behind bars by now if they did. But listen, Louise, I’ve been meaning to speak to you.’

  I held my breath, wondering if he was about to confess to his affair with Sue. Certainly he looked grave enough.

  ‘Don’t take this the wrong way,’ he said, ‘but it would be better if you made more of an effort to show yourself around school at the moment.’

  ‘What? You want me to go into school as though nothing has happened? How can you even say such a thing?’

  ‘It’s only what you would do if you had done nothing wrong,’ he replied testily. ‘And it would be best for you in the long run.’

  ‘If I had done nothing wrong?’ I repeated indignantly. ‘You said yourself I’m innocent. Don’t you believe me? Listen, I haven’t done anything wrong.’

  ‘It’s a pity you sent those emails,’ he replied curtly. ‘The longer you hide yourself away h
ere, like a criminal, the more tongues are going to wag. You know I’m right. You know what staffrooms are like for tittle-tattle,’ he concluded, before turning his attention back to his dinner, as though signalling to me that the conversation was over. But as far as I was concerned we had barely started.

  ‘So you’re saying the whole school is talking about how I sent those emails.’

  ‘What do you think?’

  We were a week into the summer holiday and many of the staff had left the school to visit their families, or go travelling. Considering only a few remained on site, it seemed unlikely I was being talked about much.

  ‘How do they know it was me, anyway? Who told them?’

  ‘It wasn’t me, if that’s what you’re implying.’

  ‘Who was it then?’

  ‘I don’t know. But people talk. They must know you were held at the police station for questioning, and you’re an expert in IT. Other people can put two and two together. Anyway, Louise, apart from all of that, we could do with some secretarial assistance and it’s not doing you any good, hiding yourself away like this. The longer it goes on, the harder it’s going to be for you when you finally decide to come back to school. Julie is struggling to cope, processing admissions and covering Sue’s job at the same time. If Julie carries on like this she’s going to have a breakdown and then there’ll be no one left to keep things going.’

  ‘What about David’s secretary?’

  ‘Mandy’s away for a fortnight.’

  ‘Oh. I thought you had a temp in to help.’

  ‘Yes, but she doesn’t know the school, and she doesn’t understand how we do things. She needs direction. Please, Louise, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t in your own interest to go out and talk to people here as though–’

  ‘I know, as though I’d done nothing wrong,’ I interrupted him bitterly.

  ‘I was going to say as though nothing had happened.’

  The conversation was going so badly, I had little to lose by challenging him to explain his part in what had occurred.