‘Perhaps I was. But there are other commitments, other kinds of ties to those we love. Obligations we can’t ignore.’
‘Yet you believe your son was guilty of murder.’
Again Mrs Quinn sat quietly for a moment, her hands motionless in her lap. She gave every impression of being a calm woman, untroubled by conscience.
‘Yes, I do believe that,’ she said. ‘But it has nothing to do with whether I love my son, or whether I’m willing to open my door to him when he calls.’
Fry and Cooper exchanged glances. Clearly, Mrs Quinn wasn’t going to concede anything she didn’t want to.
‘What did your son want?’ asked Cooper.
‘He wanted nothing from me. Nothing except some human contact. I couldn’t refuse him that, could I?’
‘Did he tell you what he was planning to do?’
‘No, he didn’t.’
‘Nothing at all? Did he say where he was heading from Hathersage?’
‘No.’
‘Did he talk about his ex-wife?’
172
‘He made no suggestion to me that he intended to go and see Rebecca.’
‘And his son, Simon?’
Enid Quinn flushed. ‘I know about that, of course. Well, Mansell certainly didn’t attack Simon. It’s nonsense to suggest it. That’s the very last thing he would do.’
‘OK. So, how did your son seem when you talked to him?1 asked Cooper. ‘What state of mind was he in?’
‘State of mind?’
‘Did he seem distressed? Angry? Frightened? Or was he just his usual self?’
Mrs Quinn smiled tremulously. ‘I don’t know what Mansell’s usual self is any more. And I couldn’t say what his state of mind was, I’m afraid. I didn’t feel I could read his mood as I used to be able to.’
‘But you’re his mother,’ said Cooper, who didn’t find her claim believable.
And Enid Quinn took his point. She thought about it further. ‘I should say that he was none of those things you mentioned. He was absorbed. Distracted.’
‘Something on his mind?’
‘Yes.’
‘But what?’
‘I can’t help you.’
‘Mrs Quinn, when we were here yesterday, you told us you thought your son was seeking retribution. That was the word you used. What did he tell you to make you think that?’
‘Nothing.’
‘So why did you say it? Why that word - retribution^
Mrs Quinn shook her head. ‘It just seemed to me that’s what he’d want. Mansell was angry. He’s been angry for a long time.’
‘But retribution against who?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘Did he want any information from you? Names and addresses?’
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‘No.’
‘Money? Food?’
‘Mansell didn’t ask me for money. But I made him a meal. Of course I did. I couldn’t refuse him that.’
‘What time did he leave here?’
‘Oh, I suppose it must have been about half past eight.’
‘It was still light?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did he have transport? A car?’
‘I couldn’t tell you. He was on foot when he left here.’
Cooper sighed, and gave Fry a small shrug.
‘Mrs Quinn, we have to ask you again,’ said Fry. ‘Where was your son heading?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘We must find him, Mrs Quinn. You can see that, can’t you? You wouldn’t want anything to happen to somebody else, no matter how you feel about your son. Would you?’
She shook her head jerkily. ‘I don’t know where he was going.’
