‘Yes.’
Dee seemed to think that was enough. Jessie said nothing, her silence encouraging the other woman to fill the void with words.
It worked. ‘Her husband had been ill. Cancer.’ Dee’s voice took on a heavy, solemn tone. ‘She wanted to let us know. About his death.’
‘Doesn’t she have a phone?’ asked Deepak.
Jessie noticed rage behind Dee’s eyes, quickly suppressed. Gotcha, she thought.
‘She … she wanted to do it in person.’
‘He meant that much to you?’ said Jessie. ‘As an ex-employee.’
‘We were fond of Jeff. He was a … loyal employee.’
Her words were so hollow, thought Jessie, that she doubted even Dee believed them. ‘You know, it’s funny,’ she said, in the kind of tone she would use if she was discussing an article she had just read in
Dee said nothing.
‘There was someone at the cottage when it went up. He saved a woman’s life, stopped her going back in. Very brave. We asked him for an address. He gave us Jeff Hibbert’s. Why d’you think that was?’
‘How would I know?’
‘He didn’t give us Jeff Hibbert’s name, though. Said he was called Stuart Milton.’ She leaned closer. ‘Name mean anything to you?’
‘No.’ Dee’s voice was as flat and dead as her eyes were trying to be.
‘And then Jeff Hibbert goes and gets murdered just after our visit.’
‘Wasn’t cancer,’ said Deepak. ‘He was murdered.’
Dee’s mouth moved once more but no sound came out. ‘He … his wife said.’
‘And we can’t find this Stuart Milton anywhere. Have you got any photos of your brother?’ asked Jessie.
Dee, caught off guard once more, thrown by Jessie’s sudden change of questioning, couldn’t answer immediately. ‘I … Not to hand. No.’
‘None in the house?’ Incredulity in her voice.
‘We’re not that kind of family.’ Struggling to regain control.
Jessie smiled. ‘We’ll find one from somewhere, don’t worry.’
‘Why do you need one?’ Dee’s voice was rising, becoming shrill.
Jessie shrugged, smiled. ‘In an inquiry like this, we can’t rule anything out.’
Dee said nothing, but her eyes darted from one to the other, all round the room. Still rattled, thought Jessie, still uncomfortable. Good. Just where I want her.
‘Did you know that Stuart Sloane was released from jail yesterday?’
Dee just stared straight ahead. Jessie watched her face, her eyes. The woman seemed to be auditioning answers, deciding which one to give, which one would be best received.
‘I … we … heard something. No one informed us officially, though.’ She leaned forward, suddenly on the offensive. ‘I would have expected someone to have done that. Common courtesy if nothing else.’
Jessie shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, Ms Sloane, but if we went round informing every victim of crime when a perpetrator was released, we’d have little time to do anything else.’
‘Be that as it may, someone should have informed us. Given the seriousness of the crime.’
‘Maybe you’re right.’ Jessie frowned, leaned forward too. ‘How d’you feel about it?’ Her voice light, genuinely enquiring.
‘How do I feel about what?’
‘Stuart Sloane being released. Aren’t you worried he might come after you again? Try to finish what he started?’
Dee opened her mouth to answer, bit the response off. Instead she thought for a few seconds. ‘We’re not worried. No. We don’t even know which part of the country he’s in.’
‘Although I’m sure you could find out if you wanted to.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Just that someone with your money and influence could find out where he was. If you wanted to.’
Dee Sloane didn’t answer the question. ‘I think it’s time for you to leave.’
Once again Jessie ignored her. ‘D’you think Stuart Sloane knew Jeff Hibbert?’
‘I … don’t know. Probably not.’
‘D’you think Stuart Sloane killed Jeff Hibbert?’
‘No. I don’t. I don’t know.’ She stood up. ‘Now please leave. If you have any more questions or accusations to make, you should do so through my solicitor.’
Jessie frowned, her voice dripping reason. ‘Accusations, Ms Sloane? What have we accused you of?’
‘Just … ’ Dee pointed to the door. ‘Just … please leave. Now.’
Jessie and Deepak rose, made their way to the door. Once there, Jessie turned. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘one more thing. Do you or your brother know someone called Marina Esposito?’
Dee looked taken aback. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve never heard of her.’
Jessie and Deepak were shown out.
They waited until they were past the gates before they started talking.
‘Very well handled, ma’am.’
‘Thank you, Deepak. I told you, watch and learn.’
‘Incisive,’ he said. ‘You’ll get a job on
‘Thanks, smartarse.’
But Deepak wasn’t finished. ‘And “one more thing”? Are you channelling Columbo now?’
She smiled. ‘Always worked for him.’ They kept walking back to the car. ‘So what did you think? Impressions.’
Deepak frowned. ‘Didn’t like her. Can’t say why. Just … something about her I didn’t like.’
‘Strange. I felt the same way. Must be a chemical thing.’
‘Or she’s guilty of something.’
‘There could be that.’
They reached the car. Before they got in, Deepak spoke to Jessie over the roof. ‘That last question? The one about Marina Esposito?’
‘What about it?’
‘Only truthful answer she gave.’
Jessie smiled. ‘My thoughts exactly.’
They got in the car, drove away.
65
Eileen Brennan looked at her son’s face. They had removed the tape from his eyes. That was something, she thought. A gesture to be hopeful about.
She was holding his hand once more, clasping it with both hers, frightened it would be taken away from her. And talking. Incessantly. Telling him all the things she hadn’t been able to say to him when he had been around, all the things she had kept inside, decided not to share, thinking there would be another time to do so, a later time, a better time. But the events of the last couple of days had changed her.
‘And … and I’m telling you all this because … ’ A sigh. ‘Because. Because I should say them to you. Before it’s too late. There were things I wanted to say to Don, should have said to Don … ’ She drifted, her eyes watery glass. ‘And now, now I never will … ’ Another sigh. ‘So … there is no better time. There is no time. There’s only now … ’
She kept talking, kept clasping his hand. Telling him about her husband. His father. Don.
‘I met him by chance, you know. And I didn’t like him. Not at first. I didn’t like policemen, see. I was a social
