‘Oh, yes. And he made a very good funeral director, you know. The firm was in good hands with Richard there.’
Cooper looked up. Was he mistaken, or had he detected a hint of criticism of Melvyn Hudson? It would be understandable, in the circumstances. The old man must deeply regret that his own son wasn’t still there to play his part in running Hudson and Slack. Abraham must be reminded of his son’s death every time he heard the name of the company or saw it on the letterhead.
‘Are the books yours, too?’
‘No, those are Vernon’s. I brought a few books and knickknacks with me, but I keep them upstairs in my own room mostly. It’s Vernon’s house, after all.’
Actually, Cooper thought the room could have done with a few knickknacks. The shelves could have taken a few more
324
books. In fact, it felt really sparse, a stripped-down room. Perhaps this was the way Vernon liked it. It was, after all, a male household.
‘That’s my chair in the corner, though,’ said the old man. ‘I brought a few bits of my best furniture with me. The display cabinet is mine, too, and the grandfather clock.’
As Abraham pointed out his possessions, Cooper wondered what the room had been like without them. There must hardly have been anything in here at all. No woman would have tolerated such a lack of interior decoration.
‘When did you retire from Hudson and Slack, sir?’ asked Cooper.
‘Strictly speaking, I haven’t retired,’ said Abraham. ‘I still own a half-interest in the company, so I attend meetings occasionally. But I haven’t been active in the business for more than seven years now. I was lucky enough to be able to retire at sixty-five.’
‘Because you had your son to pass the mantle on to?’
‘Yes. But Richard … he died, you know.’
‘That must have been a great blow.’
‘We come to terms with these things after a while. But that’s why there’s just me and Vernon now.’
‘What about Vernon’s mother?’
‘She and Richard were already divorced when he died. She remarried and lives in Shropshire now. Vernon phones her, and he’s visited them in Oswestry a couple of times, but he doesn’t like her new husband, so he doesn’t see as much of his mother as he’d like to.’
‘So, Mr Slack, you weren’t actively involved in the firm at the time of your son’s death?’
‘No.’
‘Or in the period immediately before that?’
‘Seven years ago, I passed day-to-day running of the company over to Richard. And Melvyn, of course. Is there something wrong?’
325
‘We’re investigating an incident that may have happened shortly before your son died.’
‘May have happened?’
‘Sorry, I should say it did happen. And someone at Hudson and Slack may have been involved.’
‘We have a very high reputation,’ said Abraham stiffly. ‘We can’t afford any irregularities. None at all. It’s a very sensitive business we’re in.’
‘Nevertheless, there was a body which didn’t get cremated as it should have been.’
‘I know nothing about that. Neither Richard nor Melvyn ever mentioned it. I’m sure you must be mistaken.’
‘No, sir.’
Abraham shook his head vehemently. ‘No, I would have known about it. There are too many regulations and double checks. Something like that couldn’t be concealed. And why, anyway?’
‘Sir?’
‘Why on earth would anyone do a thing like that?’
The old man glanced out of the window, and Cooper followed his gaze. He saw a car drawing up in the yard, an old Escort with a rattling exhaust. Vernon Slack got out, looked at Cooper’s Toyota and fiddled nervously with his keys, as if he might get back in the Escort and drive off again.
‘That’s handy,’ said Cooper. ‘I’ll just have a quick word with your grandson on my way out, sir.’
‘Don’t bully him,’ said Abraham suddenly.
‘Now why would I do that?’
Vernon had seen him coming. He looked nervous, but then he always seemed nervous. He remained standing in the yard while Cooper came out of the front door. His eyes flickered to the window, so his grandfather was probably giving him some kind of signal, telling him how to behave or what to say. Maybe just a finger to the lips, enough for Vernon to understand: Say nothing.
326
‘Just home from work, sir?’ said Cooper.
‘Yes, I finished a bit early. We were quiet today.’
‘I suppose that’s bad for business, but good in a way, too.’
‘What?’
‘It means fewer people are dying,’ said Cooper.
‘Oh. Yeah.’
