‘Tell us.’
‘She wasn’t asleep. She was dead. When I got down from knocking on the sisters’ doors Judith met me in the passage. She seemed shocked, and didn’t say anything at first. I asked what was wrong, and then she told me that she’d tried to wake Mrs Winterbottom, and she couldn’t. She said she must have had a stroke or a heart attack or something. I said I’d ring for an ambulance, but then…’
‘Yes?’
‘She said there wasn’t any point, and, anyway, she couldn’t afford any delay which might make her miss her plane. She asked if I could wait until after her flight before telling anyone. Then she said that as she had come all this way, she wanted to search the flat to check if Mrs Winterbottom had brought anything for her. I didn’t like the idea of that at all. I said, suppose the sisters come back, how would it look? So she asked me to go down to the front door and if anyone came in to act as if I was on my way out for help.’
‘Well?’
‘That’s what I did. No one came. After five minutes or so I became impatient and called out to her. I started to go upstairs again, but she came running out and we left. She said she’d found nothing.’
‘Was she carrying anything?’
‘Her bag. A shoulder bag. A bit bigger than yours.’
‘Then what?’
‘I took her to the airport. Her flight didn’t leave till 7, and she made me promise not to do anything myself before then. If anyone asked, I was to say that we’d called on Mrs Winterbottom that afternoon as arranged, but had got no reply. I had no idea that anyone had seen us actually go in to number 22.
‘On my way back from Heathrow I returned to Jerusalem Lane, and saw the ambulance. I thought, well, it’s taken care of now, there’s no point in doing anything more. Then when I read the newspaper report about suspicious circumstances, I… well, I just wanted to forget the whole thing.’
‘You said you suspected Derek Slade of some involvement.’
‘Oh, not seriously. Not when you actually say it like that. It’s just something that went through my mind, that’s all.’
‘Why not Judith Naismith?’
Jones looked at his hands.
‘Yes. I thought about that, too. But that’s just as absurd. More so. Judith could never… kill anyone.’
‘Did you see or hear Meredith Winterbottom yourself at any point that afternoon?’
‘No.’
‘So you can’t say whether she was alive or dead at any stage in your visit.’
‘No.’
Behind them two detectives from the local CID had arrived at the door.
‘We’ll go now, Mr Jones. Don’t leave town.’
When they got back to the car, Brock said, ‘Coincidence?’
‘I don’t know. It’s not like a professional thief to waste time leaving messages and causing unnecessary damage. At least we’d better check if they come up with any fingerprints.’
‘Well, anyway, Kathy, this case gets better and better. First we get to go to Eastbourne, now it looks as if you’ve earned yourself a trip to the USA.’
But it wasn’t to be.
The following morning Brock and Kathy met in Kathy’s office at ED Division. Kathy, furious, was pacing the three metres between the filing cabinets and the door. Brock sat quietly in the steel-framed chair by the window.
‘I just can’t believe it,’ she said. ‘Inspector McDonald just told me.’
‘Yes, he rang me just before I left the Yard. Did he give you any details?’
‘Only that he spoke with the coroner last night, and somebody called Marsden at the DPP’s office this morning. They don’t think there’s any point in proceeding with the case. There’ll be an inquest, but the coroner’s private opinion at this stage is that Meredith was suffering from depression and committed suicide with the plastic bag after making herself drowsy with the port and sedative. The sisters discovered her either before or after their walk and removed the plastic bag before calling for help. That’s not right, Brock! If they discovered her before the walk, they wouldn’t have gone, they’d have called for help then. And if it was afterwards, then Judith Naismith would have seen the bag over her head.’
‘What did McDonald say to that?’
‘We don’t know what Judith Naismith saw, and it would be too much trouble to find out. And, anyway, Meredith might just have had a heart attack after all-the forensic evidence is inconclusive. According to Inspector McDonald it simply isn’t worth pursuing, not with all the other urgent things needing our attention.’ She sighed. ‘I’m going to Jerusalem Lane to speak to the sisters, tell them that we no longer think it could have been murder. At least they’ll be relieved. Everyone in the Lane will be, except maybe Mrs Rosenfeldt, who was convinced it was all a Nazi plot.’
‘Hmm, too bad. It was intriguing, but maybe they’re right.’
‘Bullshit, sir. You know they’re not.’
Brock smiled. ‘At any rate, Kathy, it’s been a pleasure working with you. I hope we meet again.’ He held out his hand.
‘Yes.’ Kathy stopped pacing and smiled. ‘Yes, I hope so.’
Part II
16
He stood in the doorway of the canteen, watching the four women detectives sitting together over by the window. The air was thick with the smell of fried sausages and chips, and he was reminded that he hadn’t eaten that morning. Kathy was sitting with her left profile towards him, the April sunlight from the window reflecting off her fair hair. The women were laughing, and Kathy with them, looking happy and fit, her slender fingers brushing her hair back from her brow as she shook her head at some outrageous story.
Suddenly she turned and looked across the room towards him, as if she had sensed him watching her. She smiled with recognition, pointed a finger at herself and raised an eyebrow. He nodded and she got up from the table, saying something to the others as she left.
‘Hello, sir. This is a nice surprise!’
‘Kathy. It’s good to see you again.’
They shook hands formally, Brock slightly awkward.
‘That was terrific about North,’ Kathy said, filling the momentary silence. ‘Your picture looked good in all the papers.’
‘Thanks. Look, you remember Meredith Winterbottom?’
‘Of course I do. It was only six months ago.’
‘Her sister Eleanor was found dead this morning. No doubts this time. She was murdered.’
‘Oh no!’ Kathy looked stunned. ‘Poor Eleanor,’ she whispered. ‘That’s terrible. I remember so clearly the last time I saw her. I told her that we’d decided that Meredith hadn’t been murdered after all, and she was so relieved. Oh, that’s awful.’
‘I’ve been given the case, and I’m on my way over there now. I want you to work with me on it, Kathy, if you’d like to. McDonald says it can be arranged at this end.’
Kathy nodded fiercely. ‘Of course I would!’
They got into Brock’s car. He didn’t start the engine immediately, but instead turned to her.
‘You’re looking really well, Kathy. Life must be agreeing with you.’
‘Oh well,’ she said, smiling, ‘more or less under control, you know.’
‘What about that man you were seeing?’
‘No. That didn’t work out. We decided to call a halt.’ She shrugged, puzzled by his question.
