“It’s just a routine follow-up on the report you gave Thames Valley CID, Dame Caroline,” said Gemma, and her own voice sounded harsh in her ears.
“Sit down, please.” Dame Caroline moved to the sofa and patted the cushion invitingly. Over white wool trousers she wore a long garnet-colored sweater. The soft cowl neck framed her face, its color the perfect foil for her pale skin and dark hair.
Gemma, who had dressed with particular care that morning, suddenly found her favorite olive silk skirt and blouse as drab as camouflage, and as she sat down she felt awkward and clumsy. A flush of embarrassment warmed her cheeks and she said quickly, “Dame Caroline, I understand from your initial statement that you were at home last Thursday evening. Can you tell me what you did?”
“Of course, Sergeant, if you find it necessary,” Caroline said with an air of gracious resignation. “I had dinner with Plummy—that’s Vivian Plumley—then we watched something on the telly, I’m afraid I can’t remember what. Does it matter?”
“Then what did you do?”
“Plummy made us some cocoa, that must have been around ten o’clock. We talked for a bit, then went to bed.” Apologetically, she added, “It was a very ordinary evening, Sergeant.”
“Do you remember what time your husband came in?”
“I’m afraid not. I sleep quite soundly, and we have separate beds, so he seldom disturbs me when he comes in late after a performance.”
“And your daughter didn’t disturb you when she returned in the early hours of the morning?” Gemma asked, wanting to shake Caroline’s polished complacency just a bit.
“She did not. My daughter is a grown woman and comes and goes as she pleases. I’m not in the habit of keeping tabs on her whereabouts.”
Caroline seemed to bite back a response, then sighed. “I thought it rather ill-advised, but then my approval has never had much effect on Julia’s actions. And she has behaved very badly over Connor’s death from the first.” Looking suddenly tired, Caroline rubbed her fingers over her cheekbones, but Gemma noticed that she didn’t stretch the skin.
“In what way?” Gemma asked, although she’d had proof enough that Julia wasn’t playing the grieving widow to perfection.
Shrugging, Caroline said, “There are things that must be done, and people have certain expectations… Julia has simply not met her obligations.”
Gemma wondered if Julia would have done what was necessary if she hadn’t been sure her parents would step in and take care of everything. The fact that Julia seemed to resent them doing so only served to illustrate the perversity of human nature, and Gemma had begun to think that their relationship might be more perverse than most. She turned a page in her small notebook, running through her questions in her mind. “I believe Connor came here for lunch last Thursday?” At Caroline’s nod, she continued, “Did you notice anything unusual about his behavior that day?”
Smiling, Caroline said, “Con was very entertaining, but there was nothing unusual about that.”
“Do you remember what you talked about?” Gemma asked, and as she watched Caroline ponder the question, she realized she’d never before seen a woman capable of furrowing her brow prettily.
“Oh, nothing memorable or weighty, Sergeant. Local gossip, Gerald’s performance that night—”
“So Connor knew your husband would be in London?”
Looking perplexed, Caroline answered, “Well, of course, Con knew Gerald would be in London.”
“Do you know why Connor would have visited the Coliseum that same afternoon?”
“I can’t imagine. He certainly didn’t say anything to us about going to London—are you saying he visited the theater?”
“According to the porter’s sign-in sheet, but no one else admits to seeing him.”
“How very odd,” Caroline said slowly, and for the first time Gemma sensed her departing from a comfortably rehearsed script. “Of course, he did leave in rather a tiz—”
“What happened?” Gemma felt a prickle of excitement. “You said he hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary.”
“I don’t know that I’d describe it as out of the ordinary. Con was never very much good at sitting still. He excused himself for a moment while Gerald and I were having our coffee. He said he meant to give Plummy a hand in the kitchen, and that’s the last we saw of him. A few minutes later we heard his car start up.”
“And you thought something had upset him?”
“Well, I suppose we did think it a bit odd that he hadn’t told us good-bye.”
Gemma turned carefully back through the pages of her notebook, then looked up at Caroline. “Mrs. Plumley said she did the washing up alone. She didn’t see Connor again after she left the dining room. Do you think he went upstairs to see Julia? And perhaps they had a row?”
Caroline clasped her hands in her lap, and the shadows shifted on the garnet sweater as she took a breath. “I can’t say, Sergeant. If that were the case I’m sure Julia would have said something.”
Gemma didn’t share her sentiments. “Did you know that Connor had a girlfriend, Dame Caroline? Technically, I suppose she would have been his mistress, since he and Julia were still married.”
“A girlfriend? Con?” Caroline said quietly, then as she looked into the fire she added more softly still, “He never said.”
