anybody’s company director. His companion was much younger, lean, and leather-jacketed. Quite handsome in a rugged sort of way, his looks strangely enhanced by a scar that ran from his shortly cropped hairline to bisect one eyebrow. Neither of them looked threatening, Alex was relieved to note.
‘Er, Mr Sheppard? Alex Sheppard?’ the older man inquired.
‘Yes, that’s me. How can I help you?’
‘We’re investigating the death, yesterday, of a Mr Graham Cooke and wondered if you could answer a few questions for us, sir.’ He paused, his eyes carefully studying Alex’s face, clearly gauging Alex’s reaction to his question. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Holland,’ he said. He gestured to his partner. ‘This is Detective Sergeant Taylor.’
Alex was flustered. He hesitated. ‘I told your sergeant, yesterday, everything that happened,’ he said.
‘Yes, we’ve read your statement, Mr Sheppard. No need to be concerned. This is just a routine inquiry, a follow-up call – just making sure we haven’t overlooked anything.’
‘Did you know him, then – the deceased?’ Detective Sergeant Taylor asked, in a North of England accent.
‘Graham? No, not very well. I’ve only met him twice.’ Alex felt uncomfortable talking about such a serious matter at the front door – not that there was anyone to overhear the conversation. ‘It was a bit of a shock – yesterday. Why don’t you come in, please,’ he said, stepping aside to let them pass. ‘First door on the right. Excuse the mess, my wife’s away for a couple of days.’
Inspector Holland continued his polite questioning from the comfort of the sofa. ‘What was your connection with Graham Cooke, then, sir?’
‘Well, he is – was – the nephew of the lady who previously owned this house. We bought it from her earlier this year.’
‘He wasn’t what you would term a friend, then?’
‘Hardly.’ The minute he’d said the word he knew it had a self-incriminating edge.
Holland picked up on it instantly. ‘You didn’t like him?’
‘No, I didn’t mean that, at all. What I meant to say was that he was barely an acquaintance.’
‘So you have nothing to do with his business? Pharmaceuticals sales, I believe.’
‘No – oh, no.’
Occasionally, Taylor jotted down a note on his pad, always licking the point of the pencil when he did so. Alex couldn’t help but reflect on how many times he’d watched this type of interview in movies and on TV.
Holland continued. ‘Can you tell me why you were planning to meet Mr Cooke yesterday?’
The question took Alex by surprise.
Holland followed up quickly. ‘What was the meeting about?’
‘We were returning some books that Graham had lent us.’
‘What kind of books?’
‘They were records that belonged to Graham’s uncle.’
‘Records?’
Alex rubbed his brow. ‘Actually, they were to do with hybridizing roses.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
Holland didn’t look convinced.
‘We showed them to your sergeant at the time. I still have them in the car, if you want to take a look.’
‘Roses, eh? That’s a good one,’ Holland said disdainfully. ‘You said “we”. Was that the chap Kingston, who was listed on the report?’
‘Yes, a friend of mine, Lawrence Kingston,’ Alex replied. ‘He’s a professor,’ he added, in the hope that it might add more credibility.
A brief exchange between the two policemen allowed Alex a chance to recall the details of the short meeting he and Kate had had with Graham at The Parsonage earlier. They were certain to ask about that.
‘I’m curious,’ Alex said, when the two had finished their confab. ‘How did Graham die?’
‘The unofficial verdict is that it was a heart attack.’
‘Christ! He was awfully young. A heart attack?’
‘Well, there could be more to it. There were contusions on the body and visible evidence of a struggle of some kind. That certainly could have brought on the attack.’
Alex shook his head in disbelief. ‘Good grief. That’s awful.’
‘Yes, sir, it is.’ Holland leaned forward, as if about to get up. He stopped, and looked at Alex, resting his chin on an arched thumb and forefinger. ‘Oh, there was one more thing, sir,’ he said, casually. ‘We found a copy of a letter addressed to you and your wife. It was on Mr Cooke’s person. A letter from a solicitor – named…’ He looked across at Taylor, who flipped back through his notebook.
‘Alexander Stanhope,’ said Taylor.
Holland nodded thanks to the sergeant. ‘Could you tell us about that, Mr Sheppard?’ he asked.
Alex paled. Already he could see the implications. ‘Ah, yes. We received that letter a few days ago. Graham delivered it, personally, to my wife and me.’
‘According to Mr Stanhope’s statement, it appears that you and your wife stood to lose a considerable amount of money if ownership of this rose reverted to Graham and his aunt. Is that correct?’
‘That’s true,’ Alex replied.
‘A moment ago you said “roses” but it was one rose in particular, was it not?’
‘It was, yes. Slip of the tongue, I guess.’
Holland shrugged, and shook his head slowly from side to side. ‘I can’t, for the life of me, imagine why a rose could be that valuable.’ His comment was punctuated with a loud sniff. ‘Takes all sorts, I suppose.’ He stood, shaking his trouser legs down and twitching his tie.
Alex remained silent.
‘We may have to ask you to come in to make a full statement, Mr Sheppard. I’ll phone and let you know if and when that will be. You might want to tell your friend…’ He looked at Sergeant Taylor.
‘Kingston,’ Taylor answered.
‘Yes – Kingston. We might like a quick word with him too.’
‘Actually, he’s staying with me until tomorrow. He should be back any moment. Do you want to wait? I can make some tea, if you’d like.’
‘No, that’s fine, Mr Sheppard. We don’t want to keep you any longer than is necessary. We’ll be on our way. Oh, there was one more thing. In the meantime, you’re not planning to leave the area, are you?’
‘No.’ Alex gave Holland a quizzical look. ‘Look, I told you – I had absolutely nothing to do with Cooke’s death.
Holland brushed his forefinger over his lower lip. ‘You were planning to sign the rose over to Cooke, then?’
‘We were, as a matter of fact. I know it must seem stupid – particularly in light of what has happened – to toss aside a once-in-a-lifetime chance of making an obscene amount of money, but we really don’t want the rose any more. It’s caused us nothing but bloody problems. It’s been awful. We’re only interested in keeping this property. I know it sounds hard to believe and it doesn’t look good. I mean – what with Graham, the bad timing – but I can assure you I had nothing to do with it.’
‘Just routine questioning, that’s all. I did ask you whether you’re planning any trips over the next week or so, didn’t I?’
‘Yes, you did, and no, I’m not.’
‘Good. Good. I suggest you stay close to home until you hear from me.’
‘Of course,’ Alex said. On top of everything else, he was now a suspect in what could become a murder case.
Holland turned, as if ready to leave, then swivelled his head back to Alex. ‘You mentioned that your wife was away. Where was she yesterday?’
‘My God! Are you serious? You’re not suggesting–’
Holland stopped Alex short. ‘No, no. Just curious, that’s all.’
‘She was up in Market Drayton, staying with a friend,’ Alex said. He came perilously close to blurting out that
