‘And when he wasn’t in the hotel?’
‘We kept in contact.’
‘How?’
‘By phone. He would phone me every few days.’
‘No mobile number?’
‘He changed it every two weeks.’
‘Why? You’ve not told us this before. What reason did he give?’
‘He said that he preferred secrecy, and if you kept a phone for long enough, you’d be plagued with nuisance calls.’
‘And you believed him? You’re an accounts manager for a five-star hotel. They don’t employ dummies, or do they? Are you pretending to be competent, making a damn good show of it, fiddling the books? How much more than the two thousand pounds that you’ve mentioned?’
‘Please, it’s too much.’
‘It’s here or down at Challis Street. We know that Young was not on the straight and narrow. People do not change their phones every few weeks, nor do they keep it a secret where they live, not from those they care for, not unless there’s a wife, or a business partner, or a criminal organisation after them. You know something, and you’re not telling. What is it? Your husband will have to be told if we hold you for twenty-four hours, forty-eight possibly, pending enquiries. You’re the most likely culprit at this time, and we’re desperate for an arrest. You’ll do for now.’
Wendy looked over at the waitress, could see that she was talking to another employee. All in all, the café had been a disappointment. The tea had not been that hot the second time around, and the sandwiches, cut into triangles, that the women had eaten but not enjoyed had been neither delicious nor fresh; too few in quantity, as well.
‘Next time, I’ll call the inspectors in to check your kitchen,’ Wendy said as she paid the bill.
‘Who do you think you are?’ the waitress said, leaning down to whisper in Wendy’s ear, ensuring the other patrons didn’t hear.’
Wendy flipped open her warrant card. ‘Police, you want to make something out of it?’
‘No tip, then?’
‘Not a chance.’
***
Christine Mason sat on a chair at Challis Street. She hadn’t been charged with a crime, and Wendy still wanted to believe her story. If it hadn’t been for Larry’s phone call as she had driven the woman back to the Fitzroy Hotel, their accounts manager would have been back in her office balancing the books, checking the money that had come in that day, the money going out, the staff salaries, the expenses.
‘I’m sorry about this,’ Isaac said, as he sat down beside the woman. Wendy could have sworn that Christine Mason, nervous and confused as she was, visibly relaxed as Isaac spoke to her.
‘DCI, Mrs Mason has some explaining to do. I don’t think that we should regard her as an innocent bystander at this time,’ Wendy said.
‘Sergeant Gladstone’s right. We’ve received further information. We should be in the interview room. Do you have legal representation?’
‘I don’t want my husband to find out,’ Christine Mason said.
‘It’s gone beyond that but we have no intention of contacting him, not just yet. It depends on what you tell us.’
Wendy took hold of the woman’s arm and led her to the interview room. She sat her on one side of the table, and she and Isaac sat on the other. Isaac informed Christine Mason of her rights, the procedure that would be followed.
Larry listened from another room. He should have been in the interview room, as it had been him who had received the revelation from Adrian Clark. He had passed up the opportunity, as both Eardley and Clark were in the station. They were writing their statements, and once finished, Larry would speak to them once more, see if there was any other snippet of information that Clark could remember. If there was, it would be passed onto his two colleagues.
‘Mrs Mason, you made a statement to Sergeant Gladstone,’ Isaac said.
‘Call me Christine.’
‘Very well. Christine, you made a statement, admitted to a relationship with Colin Young.’
‘Yes, that’s correct.’
‘There are anomalies in your statement. Facts you’ve not revealed, inconsistencies you’ve not explained.’
‘I’ve been honest, believe me. I had an adulterous relationship with a younger man. Isn’t that enough? I should be ashamed, and maybe I am sometimes, but it was good, he was good, and now he’s lying dead on a metal table. What did he do to deserve that, you tell me?’
‘That is why we are here,’ Isaac said. ‘With a full statement from you, we will find out who he was, where he was from, who killed him. Was it you?’
‘Never. I loved him.’
‘As you have said before.’
‘He told me he only cared for me.’
‘But did you trust him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was he married, single?’
‘He told me he had never met the right woman.’
‘Do you have a lot of money?’
‘My husband has.’
‘Could you get access to it?’
‘I don’t understand why you are asking these questions. I’ve done nothing wrong, I only fell in love with a good man.’
‘DCI Cook’s trying to help you, Christine. It pains me to see you subjected to this,’ Wendy said. ‘You were seen in Hyde Park.’
Christine Mason’s face turned ashen, the blood draining away. ‘It’s a lie. I’ve never been there.’ Her voice weakened.
‘We have a witness. Four days ago. Not the day Colin Young died, but you were there. You were at the exact spot where he was murdered. Now, what do you have to say? The truth this time, not some half-baked story that it was eternal love, and it transcended the age difference,’ Isaac said. ‘You,
