She turned a sob into a gulp and drew in her breath. Twisting her handkerchief in her podgy hands she stammered, 'I can't believe that someone could do such a dreadful thing.'
'How well do you know Melissa Thurlow?' She looked surprised and tensed at the sudden change of subject. 'Not that well. She never came to the office.'
'You didn't go to Briarly House?'
'Oh no.'
'Why not?' he asked quietly
'Mrs Thurlow doesn't like visitors. She's an invalid.'
Horton sensed Cantelli's surprise and stifled his own excitement.
Mrs Stephen's explained, 'She suffers from agoraphobia, you see. That's why she never came to the office, or to any of our functions. Poor Roger.'
Poor bloody Mrs Stephens, Horton thought as Cantelli cleared his throat. Thurlow had spun her a pack of lies for years. He didn't like being the one to disillusion her but if he didn't someone else would and that would probably be the media. Horton knew he was going to be cruel but he had no option. 'I think you'll find that Roger has lied to you, Mrs Stephens.'
Again that shake of her head and the fierce twisting of her handkerchief in her lap. 'He wouldn't.'
'Mrs Thurlow does not suffer from agoraphobia. In fact, she spends most of her time outside the house cultivating fuchsias. She travels the country showing them.'
'I don't believe you. Roger wouldn't…' Her voice trailed off as she looked at each of them in turn.
'Why did he feel it necessary to lie to you?' Horton persisted, his voice harsher now.
'I don't know.' But her face was gaining its colour and now she was squirming in her seat.
'I think you do know. Why do husbands lie about their wives? Why would Roger want to impress his secretary, Mrs Stephens?'
She stared at her hands. He felt sorry for her.
'And why,' he added, 'would a man leave his secretary his entire estate?'
Her head shot up and she looked blank in amazement. Genuine? Perhaps, he thought.
'You are named as sole beneficiary in Mr Thurlow's will. Was that for services rendered beyond and above the call of duty as a secretary?' he said, to provoke a response.
She flushed angrily. 'It wasn't like that. You don't understand. How can any of you understand? I loved Roger.'
Relentlessly Horton pursued his course. 'And I suppose he told you he loved you?'
'He did.' She stared at him with hatred. 'He did love me. He loved us both.'
'Both?'
'Me and Susan. My daughter. Our daughter.'
CHAPTER 13
Wednesday
'We found Roger Thurlow's cheque books, passport and financial papers at Mary Stephens's flat in Western Parade,' Cantelli said at the briefing the following morning. 'He'd been dividing his time between there and Briarly House for years.'
'But not his affections according to Melissa Thurlow,' Uckfield said.
Horton shifted position. The incident room was unbearably hot. Two large fans whirred in opposite corners and every now and then as they swept the room they lifted the papers on the desk like a sigh.
Horton said, 'Roger liked the best of both worlds, Melissa and Briarly House for money and status, and Mary Stephens for sex and comfort.'
'Where's the daughter?' asked Uckfield.
'Travelling Australia,' Cantelli said. 'We've checked she is there.'
'Does she know about her father's death?'
'She does now. We let her mother break the news to her first.'
Horton thought that Cantelli looked haggard. He'd heard him earlier on the telephone to Charlotte. Whatever Charlotte had told him it hadn't helped. Horton had spent a restless night himself; churning over the case and the fact that Lucy was back in town. After his visit to Alpha One he'd been half expecting something to happen but he'd arrived at his boat without any mishap.
Horton said, 'He's given her a good education and not seen her go without.'
'So not a complete bastard,' Uckfield muttered, turning towards the fan.
'Rather arrogant was how some of the staff described him,' Cantelli chipped in. 'Flashy and mean were the other two words that kept cropping up.'
Yesterday afternoon and again this morning a team were in Thurlow's taking statements and going through the files.
'How deeply in debt was he?' Uckfield snapped.
Marsden piped up. 'There's a mortgage on Mrs Stephens' flat and a marine mortgage on the boat. Briarly House is in Mrs Thurlow's name and there's no mortgage. The directors have been taking heavy dividends from the company over the last four years and it went into loss last year for the first time. Once Roger Thurlow's debts are paid off I don't think Mrs Stephens will get much, although there is some life insurance.'
'Enough to kill for?' asked Uckfield.
Horton said, 'Not really. Mary Stephens has an alibi for the time of both murders. A friend stayed with her on the Friday night of Thurlow's death and on the night Culven was killed she was at a pottery evening class and went for a drink with a friend after it. She worshipped the ground Thurlow walked on.'
'Which is more than his wife did.' Horton knew the meaning behind Uckfield's comment. He said, 'There is no sign of Culven's fingerprints in Briarly House. If he and Melissa were having an affair then they didn't conduct it in either of their homes. We're still looking for the tender from the Free Spirit and Culven's Mercedes, but Thurlow's car has been found abandoned on the Paulsgrove estate.'
Walters said, 'Melissa Thurlow's alibi partly checks out. She was at the South West Fuchsia Show in Swindon on Friday but she didn't stay overnight. She left at 20.30.'
Uckfield said, 'Time enough to get back and collect her lover after he had disposed of Thurlow's body.'
The briefing ended. Uckfield stormed out. Horton followed. He could see that the pressure was getting to the DCI. He didn't blame him. This was one of those frustrating cases.
'Are you going to release Melissa Thurlow?' he asked. The thirty-six hours was up at 11am this morning, after that Uckfield would have to take the case before the magistrates' court who could authorise further detention for up to ninety-six hours. 'I'm still not convinced she's our murderer, Steve.'
Uckfield stopped. He turned and began to count off on his fingers. 'One, she has motive, especially if she knew about Mary Stephens; two, she has no alibi for the time of either deaths; three, she has confessed to drugging her husband; four she was having an affair with Culven, the handwriting on the letters check out, and five a car like hers was seen on the promenade the night Culven was killed. In my book that adds up to a satisfying arrest, certainly enough for me to take it to the magistrates' court.'
Horton could see there was no shifting Uckfield from that view, and he did have a point, several in fact. He could charge Melissa for the murder of her husband but Culven? 'It's all a bit circumstantial. I can't see the CPS going for it.'
'Then you'd better pull your finger out, inspector and get me some bloody evidence.' Uckfield glared at him.
'And where does the great man suggest we get it from?' Cantelli said, after Horton had relayed an edited version of the conversation to him.
'We're missing something, Barney.'
Maybe if he confided his theories about Jarrett to Uckfield they might be able to fill in some of the pieces, or at least legitimately question the man. But Horton wasn't yet ready to tell Uckfield.
'Let's assume that Melissa is telling the truth, even about those letters.' Horton pushed away a pile of papers
