‘Couldn’t agree more,’ said Kay, and reached out for the door handle before climbing out.
She raised her gaze over the roof of the vehicle as a marked car pulled up beside them, and two uniformed officers joined her on the gravel driveway, their bright fluorescent waistcoats painfully bright under the sun’s glare.
‘Round the back, you two,’ she said. ‘We’ll be bringing the housekeeper in for formal questioning as well, so make sure no-one leaves through the tradesman’s entrance, got it?’
‘Sarge.’
The elder of the two placed his cap on his head and led his colleague across the driveway and down the side of the building, the crunch of their boots on gravel subsiding as they disappeared from sight.
In the distance, Kay could hear a tractor negotiating the narrow lane, its engine revving as it climbed the slight incline at the end of the driveway. Above, a hawk fluttered on the breeze and she was struck by the sense that the house seemed to be in a vacuum, waiting for her to tear down the façade its owners had created.
‘How do you want to do this?’ said Barnes.
‘Formally,’ she said. ‘Larch will have my warrant card for this if I don’t. I don’t know what’s been going on in this house, but none of it’s good.’
They walked side by side towards the front door, and Kay frowned. The front door was ajar, and raised voices could be heard from within.
‘After you.’
‘Thanks.’
She pushed the door open and entered the dark hallway. Straight away, she noticed the bare walls, and a gap where once an oak-panelled dresser had taken up one wall.
‘Moving out?’ murmured Barnes.
‘Or selling to stay.’
Footsteps carried from the far end of the hall, beyond the curve in the staircase before fading away and Kay realised the housekeeper would be returning to the kitchen as the two uniformed officers appeared at the back door.
She headed towards the formal conservatory where she’d first questioned Sophie’s parents, and knocked on the door.
Diane’s face appeared at the gap, and she reared back, startled to see them standing there.
‘The front door was open,’ said Kay. ‘We tried to knock, but—’
‘I didn’t hear you,’ she said. She swung the door open and peered out. ‘Where’s Grace?’
‘Mrs Jamieson?’
‘Yes – didn’t she meet you at the door?’
‘I don’t think she heard us.’
‘Oh. Will you come in?’
Diane remained poker-faced, but her whole stance exuded defiance as she hovered near one of the chairs.
‘What do you want?’
Kay’s eyes met those of Barnes, and he gave a slight nod. There would be no easy way to do this, and so she may as well get on with it. ‘Caution her, please, Barnes.’
‘Diane Whittaker, I’m arresting you on suspicion of causing the murder of Sophie Whittaker...’
Kay studied the woman’s face as Barnes spoke, and noted that she appeared flustered.
Good, she thought.
She glanced over her shoulder as the younger of the uniformed officers appeared, the housekeeper behind him while the older officer brought up the rear.
‘Have you cautioned her?’
‘Yes, Sarge.’
‘Put Mrs Jamieson in your vehicle. Mrs Whittaker will be coming with us.’
‘I want to speak to my husband,’ said Diane, her voice shaking as the housekeeper was led away. ‘This is preposterous. I demand to know what’s going on.’
‘We’ll explain at the station,’ said Kay.
‘I want to call my solicitor.’
‘Again, you can do that at the station.’ She stepped to one side and gestured towards the waiting cars. ‘After you.’
Fifty-Three
‘What’s going on?’
Diane Whittaker’s biting tone cut through the cold air of the second interview room the moment Kay and Sharp opened the door.
‘A moment, please, Mrs Whittaker,’ said Kay. She pressed the record button and formally cautioned the woman, including the charges that had been laid against her.
‘I’d prefer to be called by my proper title,’ said the woman officiously.
‘And we prefer to call you Mrs Whittaker,’ said Sharp.
Kay didn’t wait for her to respond. ‘Tell me about your arrangement with Blake Hamilton.’
‘That was a business transaction between Mr Hamilton and me,’ sniffed Diane. She waved her hand. ‘I don’t have to discuss private business matters with the likes of you.’
‘Mrs Whittaker,’ said Sharp. ‘At the present time, you’re under arrest. I’ll remind you of the caution that was just read out to you.’
‘What was the arrangement you had with Hamilton?’ Kay repeated.
‘Blake Hamilton was our saviour,’ said Diane. ‘He was only trying to help us.’
‘Did your husband know his daughter was entering into an arranged marriage?’
‘It’s all his fault we’re in this position in the first place!’
‘Tell us about that.’ Kay opened the folder under her arm and peeled back the pages until she found the financial statements. ‘From what I can see, when your father died he left a considerable number of gambling debts. Substantial losses that resulted in him re-mortgaging the house prior to his illness. Your husband has been using every spare penny from his business to maintain the upkeep of Crossways Hall, is that correct?’
Diane scowled. ‘Yes.’
‘Right. So perhaps you could enlighten me as to why you believe this is his fault?’
The woman sighed, tried to cross her legs and then realised the table was too low for her to do so. She shifted in her seat. ‘He’s never amounted to anything, Matthew. He tries to be an entrepreneur, but he’s not really cut out for it. Not like Blake.’
‘So, I’ll ask you again. What was the arrangement you had with Mr Hamilton?’
Diane tutted, before clasping her hands in front of her as if in prayer. ‘Blake noticed that his son had taken a liking to Sophie at one of our church meetings. He happened to mention to me that it had always been his dream to be part of the English aristocracy.’
‘Josh’s dream?’
‘No.’ Diane waved her hand as if a bad smell had wafted in front of her. ‘Boy wouldn’t have a clue. Blake. Blake loved his history – had done since he was at university here, apparently. Well, as soon as I heard that, I thought perhaps I could turn it
