responsibility for his brothers and his sister. Today, he would become a man. A challenging task for one so young.
I made the tea for us all and took one up to the spare room.
Kate was lying on her side, curled up like a foetus. She wasn’t actually crying now. She was staring with unseeing eyes at the pillow next to her head.
I sat down beside her and laid my feeling, right hand on her shoulder. ‘Kate, I’m so sorry.’ It seemed to be an inadequate starting point.
She rolled on to her back and looked at me. ‘Where was the crash?’ she asked. ‘Was it last night? I must go and see him.’
She started to get up but I held up my hand.
‘Kate,’ I said, ‘you must not go and see him. You must remember him as he was and not as he is now.’
‘Oh God!’ she wailed and the tears flowed again. There would be many tears in the days ahead. She sat up and clung to me, her head on my shoulder. I could feel the wet warmth of her tears on my neck.
And I cried with her. I cried in grief for my lost friend.
‘Please tell me what happened,’ she said when at last the sobs eased.
If I had not been there, she would have learned the grisly details soon enough. Just as soon as some caring but clumsy policeman, detailed to inform the next of kin, had arrived to notify her that her husband had put a.38 revolver in his mouth and blown off the back of his head. I had no doubt that the gun in question was the same gun that Chief Inspector Carlisle had been looking for two days ago, the same one that was used to make the holes in Huw Walker’s chest.
‘Kate, my love, I’m afraid Bill didn’t die in a car crash. It seems that he may have shot himself.’ I tried not to make it sound as dreadful as it was.
‘You mean — he committed suicide?’ She had leaned back to look at my face.
‘It appears that he might have.’
‘Oh, my darling. Why?’ Her voice was a-quiver as a fresh round of sobbing sent a shudder through her body.
‘Here, drink your tea.’
She drank the hot sweet liquid. Best cure for shock there is.
‘Why?’ she said again. ‘Why would he? It’s my fault. I should have gone with him last night. Oh God, why didn’t I go with him?’
‘Kate, you mustn’t blame yourself.’ But I could see that she would. ‘You need to be strong for the children.’
‘Oh my God, how will I tell the children?’
‘You’ll find a way,’ I said.
There was a gentle knock at the door and Daphne came in with all four of them, little three-year-old Alice in her arms.
I told Daphne to contact me on my mobile if she needed anything and left them to it. This was a family-only task.
I let myself out of the front door and was walking over to the Audi just as a police car swept up the drive and the same young policeman as before climbed out.
‘Ah, Mr Halley,’ he said, ‘we’ve been wondering where you’d got to.’
‘You only had to call,’ I said, holding up my phone.
‘My inspector’s not pleased with me for letting you and Miss Burns leave the scene.’
‘Tough.’
‘I’ve been sent to inform the next of kin of Mr Burton’s death.’ Punishment for his failing, I thought. ‘Is Mrs Burton here?’
‘Yes, she is. But I’ve saved you the trouble. I told her myself, gently.’
‘Oh.’ He seemed relieved. ‘But I need to make it official so that I can report back.’
‘She’s telling her children now. So don’t interrupt her.’
‘Right,’ he said rather indecisively. ‘I’ll just wait here for a while. I’m expecting a female officer any minute. Please will you go back to Mr Burton’s house to see Inspector Johnson right now.’
‘OK,’ I said, and drove away.
The posse had made themselves at home in Bill’s kitchen. Four men sat at the table. One of them stood up as I walked in through the back door.
‘Yes, sir,’ he said, ‘can I help you?’
‘I’m Sid Halley,’ I replied.
‘Ah, we’ve been looking for you.’
‘You’ve found me, then.’
‘I’m Inspector Johnson, Thames Valley Police,’ he said. ‘Where is Miss Juliet Burns?’
‘At home in bed.’
At their request, I gave them both Juliet’s address and my own, together with my date of birth. Strange how the police always want to know how old everyone is. They said I was free to go but I should expect to be contacted in due course by the coroner.
‘Don’t you want to interview me?’ I asked.
‘Why should I?’ said Inspector Johnson. ‘Looks like a pretty straightforward suicide. Done us a favour if you ask me.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘Couldn’t bear the thought of going to prison for murder. Saved us all the time and money.’
‘Are you sure it’s suicide?’
‘Forensics will find out. We’re waiting for them now.’
‘Just make sure they check that he did fire the gun,’ I said. ‘Residue on the hands and all that.’
‘Everyone’s a bloody detective these days,’ he said. ‘You’ve been watching too much television, sir.’
‘Ask them to check all the same.’
‘I’m sure they will.’
He had made up his mind that Bill had killed himself and I wasn’t going to convince him otherwise at the moment. I hoped forensics might do so in due course.
I went to see Chief Inspector Carlisle in Cheltenham. I had phoned first to see if he would be there and he met me in the police station reception.
‘Morning, Mr Halley.’ It felt like afternoon but my watch showed that it was still only nine thirty.
‘Morning, Chief Inspector,’ I replied. ‘Can I borrow some of your time?’
‘As long as it’s not a waste.’ He smiled. ‘Wasting police time is an offence, you know. Shall we go through to an interview room?’
‘I’d rather go out for a coffee,’ I said. ‘I’ve haven’t had breakfast yet.’
He appeared to consult his inner self and decided that it would be acceptable for him to have coffee with a ‘public’ and agreed to let me drive us the short distance down to the Queen’s Hotel in my car. The previous week, this hotel would have been heaving with the masses from across the Irish Sea, here for the racing festival. Now it was tranquil and calm. We found a quiet corner of the restaurant and ordered not only coffee, but toast and marmalade as well.
‘Now, what do you want to see me about?’
‘You are aware, I presume, that Bill Burton was discovered dead this morning.’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘Thames Valley rang me.’ He made Thames Valley sound like a person not a police force. ‘But how do
‘I arrived at the house just after he had been found by Juliet Burns.’
‘You’re making a bit of a habit of being around at critical moments.’
‘Coincidence,’ I said, and remembered that Bill had been told he could go down for coincidence. ‘Do you think Bill Burton killed himself?’
‘Why do you ask?’ he said.
