‘There are times when you need to turn to members of your family for support,’ said Cooper.
‘Exactly.’
Fry looked at Cooper, but he wasn’t paying her any attention. He was gazing around the room, as if memorizing the entire contents. If he could have moved more easily, she thought he would have got up to count the videos and CDs, and inspect the magazines in the rack by the telly.
‘Mr Lowe,’ she said, ‘I have to ask you some serious questions.’
Simon’s face fell. ‘Go ahead, then.’
Andrea came into the room then, as if on cue, and sat next to her brother on the settee. She nodded at Fry and Cooper, but said nothing.
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m
‘For a start,’ said Fry, ‘did it ever occur to you that it might not have been your father who killed Carol Proctor?’
Simon looked shocked by her directness. She saw the first hint of that rush of colour to his face, but it died away again.
‘No, it didn’t.’
‘It’s a pity. But the scapegoat was too obvious, wasn’t he? Too obvious, and too easy.’
‘That’s uncalled for.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Fry. ‘We were all the same. It helped everybody to believe that your father was guilty.’
Simon leaned forward. ‘Look, I honestly believed he was guilty. I mean, he did kill Carol Proctor, didn’t he?’
‘We can’t be entirely sure of that, in the light of recent events.’
‘Oh?’ Simon and Andrea looked at each other. ‘And what’s your evidence for that?’ said Simon.
Instead of answering, Fry changed tack, trying to keep him off balance.
‘You bunked off school a lot when you were about fifteen, didn’t you, sir?’
‘So what? Everyone does it. It means nothing.’
‘I know. Believe it or not, I did it myself.’
‘Where is this leading, Sergeant?’
‘The day Carol Proctor was killed, you both bunked off school together, didn’t you? I mean, you and your good friend Alan.’
Now Simon looked really surprised, and Fry knew she was right. Until that moment, she hadn’t been entirely sure.
‘Well, not together exactly,’ he said. ‘We were supposed to sneak out separately and meet up at my house. We were just going to drink Coke and listen to some music, it was as innocent as that. But Alan managed to get away from school and I didn’t. One of the teachers spotted me and sent me back. I was supposed to be preparing for my GCSEs, you see. I didn’t want a bad report going back to my parents. They wanted me to do well - you know what it’s like.’
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Fry nodded as if she understood. But proud and ambitious parents were one pressure that she’d never had to suffer.
‘So Alan went to your house and waited for you to turn up. But he got into the house, didn’t he? How could he have done that?’
Simon sighed. ‘There was a spare back-door key under one of Mum’s garden ornaments - a concrete rabbit with a hollow base. She didn’t trust me or Andrea not to lose keys of our own, so she always left one under the rabbit for us in case we came home when no one was in. Alan knew about the key. He’d seen me get it from there before. That day, he waited outside for a while, but it started raining, so he got the key and went into the house. He knew I wouldn’t mind we were good mates.’
‘I see.’
‘You know, Mum carried on doing that, even after we left home. She used to say wherever we all were in the world, her house was still our home.’
Fry watched him for a moment, fearing a show of emotion that she’d have to pretend to sympathize with.
Then she realized that Cooper had tensed and was sitting forward in his armchair. She gave him a glance, but he was concentrating on Lowe. At least he wasn’t going to interrupt at the wrong moment.
‘So let’s go over that again,’ she said. ‘Alan Proctor had gone into your parents’ house to get out of the rain. He was waiting for you, but you didn’t turn up. So what did he do with himself?’
‘He got a bottle of Coke from the fridge, then went up to my room, drew the curtains and put some music on the stereo. That’s what we would have done anyway, if I’d been there. There was nothing wrong with that.’
‘OK. And then?’
‘He waited a bit, until eventually he realized there must be something wrong. After a while, he knew there was a chance
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of my father coming home, and it would look odd him being in the house without me. So when he heard somebody coming up the path, he scarpered.’
‘Out of the back door?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘So whoever he heard must have been approaching the house from the front?’
Simon shrugged. ‘I imagine he heard my father parking his car and coming in through the gate. Maybe Alan actually saw him - my room looked out on to the street. Dad had a bit of a temper, and he didn’t like Alan very much. He thought he was a bad influence on me - you know the sort of ideas parents get.’
