‘The women, where were they?’
‘They had gone, so had Sutherland. I left soon after, nothing for me to do there.’
‘Why leave? I understand from your father that you do not work.’
‘Not much.’
‘I spoke to your sister before. She is very fond of her father.’
‘She would be. He always spoilt her, buying her presents.’
‘You were not spoilt?’
‘By him? No way. The most he would give me was a lecture about how to stand up straight, be a man. He was a fine one to give lectures.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘He couldn’t even control his wife. What sort of man allows his wife to fuck anyone she wants to, even in his house?’
‘Did that happen often?’
‘Not often, I suppose.’
How often?’
‘There was that time with Richard Williams. He’s been screwing her for years. Did he tell you that?’
‘I’m aware they were involved in the past, before your parents were married.’
‘They’re still involved. If you want to find out where she is, you’d better talk to him.’
‘Your dislike for your mother, is it a strong enough motive to wish her harm?’
‘Are you accusing me of murdering my own mother?’
‘I need to ascertain the intensity of your dislike towards your mother.’
‘I hated her. Not enough to kill her and she’s the one with the money, not my father.’
‘I thought your father was successful in his own right.’
‘He made some money, but nothing like her. She was the earner in this house. No doubt why he allowed her to screw around.’
‘Are you an earner?’
‘I’m just a drunken layabout. My father must have told you that.’
‘He mentioned you had some issues. Just one more question before we conclude.’
‘Let me get a top up.’ Isaac counted three whiskies consumed by Sam Avers since he arrived. It was apparent that he did not intend to stop until the bottle was drained.
‘Your father. Capable of murder?’
‘Him? I don’t think so.’
***
Wendy Gladstone, armed with the new information, set off to find Bert, the taxi driver. He was not difficult to find. The taxi rank, a five-minute walk up the road, only had places for three vehicles. Bert’s was the second. The one in front was a grey Vauxhall – looked as though it could do with a wash. Bert’s blue Toyota was fresh and clean, and she could see why the hotel used his in preference to the other taxis in the small town.
‘Felicity recommended me,’ she said.
‘From the Abbey?’ he replied. She could see that he was closer to seventy years of age than sixty. He still had a luxuriant growth of hair on his head, a small bald patch just starting to show. He was dressed in a suit with a white shirt and tie. She was impressed.
‘The Abbey, yes.’
‘She should have phoned. I would have come down and picked you up, saved you the walk.’
‘I enjoy walking,’ she said, which had been true enough before arthritis set in. Now she had to take care, not walk too fast. It annoyed her that she was not as agile as she had been as a child, and then as a young woman. She complained little, and certainly to no one except her husband.
‘Where can I take you?’
‘I’ll be honest, Bert. I’ve been asked to find one of your clients.’
‘Are you police?’
‘I was not entirely honest with Felicity down at the hotel. I told her it was her husband who had asked me. My name is Wendy Gladstone.’
‘What’s the truth?’ the taxi driver asked. Wendy could see that he was an active man, quick of mind.
‘We’re treating the woman’s disappearance as suspicious.’
‘You’re from London?’
‘How did you know?’
‘The accent mainly. Some others were asking about her.’
‘I grew up in Yorkshire.’
‘Maybe you did, but it’s a London accent now. Pure cockney, although now you mention it, there’s a bit of Yorkshire in there.’
‘You mentioned some others looking for her?’
‘You never confirmed that you were police.’
‘Police Constable.’
‘I didn’t like them.’
‘Who?’
‘The two who were looking for her.’
‘Did they say who they were? And I haven’t mentioned who the woman is yet.’
‘Felicity was desperate to tell me. My wife was excited when I told her.’
‘And you?’
‘I’ve never taken much notice of her before. I don’t watch the television apart from the sport’s channel.’
‘Are you free to talk?’ she asked.
‘The taxi meter is running. I assume that’s fine by you?’
‘Fine, expense account. You may as well have the benefit of it as well.’
‘Can it stand a decent meal?’ he asked.
‘Yes, why not.’
‘Hop in, we’ll treat ourselves to a good meal up the road.’
Bert, or Bert Collins, his full name for the report she would have to write up later, apparently enjoyed the little luxuries in life. He ordered the best, including the best wine. She knew she should not, and had been promising to go on a diet, but in the end she matched him course for course.
‘She didn’t say much, just mumbled a few words and paid the fare,’ Bert said between gulps of wine.
‘Is there anything you can tell me that will help me find her?’
‘I dropped her off at the railway station in Worcester, which made little sense. We have a perfectly good railway station here which connects into Worcester.’
‘Did she give you a reason?’
‘I saw no reason to ask. She was paying, and Worcester is farther than the local station.’
‘When you dropped her off, did she say where she was heading?’
‘She saw the time and a train coming into the station. She
