‘Yes, she wasn’t in town then, she never visited. As I say, she wanted no more to do with us.’
‘How did you get on with your mother when you were younger?’
‘You’ll appreciate I have very few memories of her, and those I do have are hazy.’
‘Pleasant memories?’ asked Grey, for he thought he had just detected the slightest smile at the corners of the man’s mouth; but this impression was short-lived,
‘Even those memories that were pleasant are rendered at best bitter-sweet by what happened next.’
‘Which was?’
‘Well, her abandonment! How many times, Inspector..?’
‘I’m sorry, but I need to know the details of the divorce: what happened and to whom.’
‘It is all contained in the papers, which I have seen.’
‘You looked them up?’
‘My father kept his own copies, and showed them to me when I was old enough to understand them.’
‘And how old was that?’
‘Fifteen, sixteen — quite old enough to need to know what had happened.’
‘Even so, a document like that’s a lot for even a teenager to take in, with a lot of long-winded legal language and terminology.’
‘I only had to understand one part of it, Inspector, the part where it gave the reasons for the action.’
‘Which were?’
‘Abandonment: abandonment of my father by my mother; and by extension, abandonment of me.’
‘Mr Mars, I appreciate how difficult this must be for you to have to answer our questions. It is only the importance of the matter than compels us to continue asking them.’
The Inspector leant back slowly in his chair, the Sergeant taking over. She looked to the printout that Sarah had passed her as they went in, of what she had that minute been able to find
out from the DVLA,
‘You live in town, Mr Mars?’
‘Yes.’
‘Mansard Lane, it says here. Just off the Stafford Road, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Not half an hour’s walk from your mother’s last home,’ remarked Cori.
He looked dumbfounded, ‘I honestly didn’t know that. She must have moved back there only a few years ago, I’m guessing.’
‘She’d been at the Cedars twenty-four years.’
‘Well then, I’ll be damned.’
Grey leaned back in over the table, ‘There are some final and not very nice questions we do need to ask.’
‘Go on.’
‘If you could confirm where you were late Monday evening/early Tuesday morning, and again in the early hours of this morning.’
‘Very easily: I was at home both evenings, asleep by that time probably.’
‘Can anyone confirm this,’ asked Cori, ‘just for the record?’
‘My wife, Lidia. Though she’s in London for the day — she’ll be back this evening.’
‘Oh, and how long have you been married?’
‘Coming up to four years.’
‘And do you have any children?’
‘Lidia and I have no children.’
‘And she’s back this evening, you say?’
‘Yes.’
Cori took a punt, ‘And you didn’t fancy joining her?’
‘Sorry?’
‘It’s a nice day out, in London: parks, sightseeing, shopping.’
‘Alas, work keeps me here. I’ve a pile of contracts to go through this afternoon.’
‘Well, if you could leave your address and both of your contact details at the desk as you leave, and we’ll be in touch with her.’
‘One last question, if I may be permitted,’ requested Grey. ‘What was the very last time you saw your mother?’
‘One evening at home, she’d put me to bed and they were downstairs arguing — I can hear her voice now: so angry, so shrill.’
‘What were they arguing about?’
‘If I knew the words then I don’t remember them now.’
‘Sorry, go on.’
‘The next morning she wasn’t there to walk to school with me — she worked next door, you see — so I went alone. That evening she wasn’t there to pick me up.’
‘Did you cry, at the gates that afternoon?’
‘Yes. How did you..?’
‘Just a guess.’ Grey didn’t let on that it had been Campbell Leigh who told of rumours of tears at the school gates. ‘Well, thank you for coming in, we do appreciate it. There may be other questions we need to ask you, so please stay by the phone.’
‘Thank you, Inspector, Sergeant.’
‘Oh, and sorry Mr Mars,’ remembered Grey as all rose. ‘Just one final, final question: as a child did you ever know a Council colleague of your mothers called Charlie Prove?’
Chapter 13 — Policy Making
‘ No, I didn’t know him. ’
Their interviewee shown back to reception after offering that final answer, the officers and support staff were now huddled around a video screen in the hidden room behind the mirrored glass watching a playback of the interview.
‘That’s a smile there, I told you there was a smile.’
‘It might be a smile,’ one of the others said; but Grey was adamant,
‘I promise you that was a smile, the second before he said he didn’t know Charlie Prove. And listen to how he answered it — “No, I didn’t know him.” — not, “Who’s Charlie Prove?” or even, “Why ask me about some guy I haven’t seen since I was a boy?” That answer’s all wrong.’
‘Well, you don’t need to convince me that there’s grounds for suspicion at least.’ — In the conversation were Sergeant Smith, Sarah Cobb, Inspectors Glass, Rase, and all of theirs boss, the Superintendent, who was now speaking — ‘If we’d have conjured up a suspect from our suppositions of what this killer must be like, then we couldn’t have come up with a better fit.’
‘But if it’s him,’ asked Glass, ‘then why come in? Why just hand himself to us?’
Grey suppressed the urge to shake his head, acknowledging that for all Glass’ abilities, this was why he, Grey, ran the investigative wing of the operation,
‘If it is Mars who killed his mother, then to not come forward now would have been suspicious in itself. He could reasonably delay coming forward only till the news of his mother’s death was all over the local paper. At that point any normal person would get in touch.’
‘And he might still be a “normal person”,’ cautioned the Super, though to little acknowledgement. ‘Till we know any more he remains a grieving relative; and this conversation stays between us.’
‘He timed it perfectly too,’ added Sarah. ‘We’d have had his number in minutes.’
‘So, logistics,’ thought Grey aloud. ‘We’re sure of the details we have for him?’
‘The DVLA and electoral roll both give the same address on the Mansard Lane,’ answered Sarah.
