‘I believe that a formal interview will be necessary,’ Isaac said.
‘Not today, it isn’t.’
‘As you say. Is there anything you can tell us that will help us to understand what drove your daughter to such an act?’
‘She’s a Montgomery. A Montgomery doesn’t indulge in such weakness. Re-examine your evidence. Matilda did not die by her own hand.’
‘Our investigation leads us to the conclusion.’
Matilda Montgomery could possibly have been traumatised by an overbearing and bombastic father, Isaac realised – the reason for her need to line up the jars and the food containers one next to the other, as if they were on the parade ground, her father inspecting that all was spick and span, a charge if they weren’t, a thrashing, bare backside, for a misdemeanour.
‘I believe that we need a comment from Mrs Montgomery,’ Isaac said.
‘Very well. Janice, say something,’ her husband said, giving her a nudge with his hand.
‘I’m sorry that Matilda’s died, but Stanley’s correct. You must have got it wrong. A Montgomery would not do such a thing.’
‘What was their childhood like?’ Wendy asked.
Montgomery looked over at her as if she was not worthy to lick his boots. ‘Boarding school for both of them.’
‘At what age?’
‘What’s this got to do with it?’
‘It’s important,’ Isaac said. ‘Sergeant Gladstone is attempting to get a profile of their childhood, find out who may have known them, wished them harm.’
‘Matilda was sent to boarding school at the age of seven. She came back for the holidays, and she wanted for nothing.’
Except for a mother’s love, a father’s guidance, Wendy thought.
‘And your son?’
‘I don’t have a son.’
‘But we know that Barry Montgomery was your son.’
‘I disowned him years ago.’
‘We need to know the reason.’
‘Not here, not now. My wife wants to see her daughter, not to indulge in idle speculation.’
‘We’ll need to know eventually.’
‘That’s as may be. Are you going to sit here wasting our time, or are you going to show us our daughter?’
‘Sergeant Gladstone will drive you over,’ Isaac said.
Chapter 12
Christine Mason realised that she had made an error of judgement. ‘I knew it was innocent, and that he loved me,’ she said.
Wendy had decided that she needed to know the truth about the other woman in the taxi, not out of compassion, but to measure her reaction.
The two women sat in the café at the hotel. ‘Free to us,’ Christine said. ‘Choose what you want.’ Wendy did.
‘She was his sister, and now she’s dead.’
‘You didn’t tell me that,’ the handkerchief coming out again. ‘How? Why?’
‘That’s the question, isn’t it?’ Wendy picked up one of the sandwiches placed in front of her. Momentarily silenced, she looked over at Christine Mason. The woman was dressed conservatively, more so than on their previous meetings. Wendy wondered if it was the influence of Gwen Hislop.
‘When you tried to confront him in Hyde Park, was violence on your mind?’ Wendy said.
‘I don’t think so. I might have slapped him across the face, but that’s all. I don’t think I could kill anyone. Colin’s sister, are you sure?’
‘She committed suicide yesterday.’
‘And you think she killed her own brother?’
‘We don’t know what to think. Our investigation is continuing, but here’s the conundrum. You saw him with a woman, thought the worst. His sister commits suicide after he is murdered in Hyde Park. And he was using his correct name with his sister, but not with you.’
‘Am I still a potential murderer?’ Christine said. She looked up, saw the hotel manager staring at her with steely eyes. ‘It’s my break, and it’s not as if I’m a junior, but he gives me the creeps.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. Undresses me with his eyes, not that he’s got a chance, not him.’
Wendy stole a glance, could see a man in his forties, well-dressed and very presentable. She liked the look of him, Christine didn’t. Wendy made a mental note to check into the manager’s background.
‘If Colin Young felt affection for you, then why the false name? And why this hotel, when his sister had a house not far from here?’
‘As long as he cared for me, that’s all that matters. Until you tell me otherwise, I’ll continue to believe that he loved me, and the rest of it is unimportant. Maybe he was something to do with the government?’
‘A James Bond, is that what you’re saying?’
‘I’m not sure what I’m saying. He was good-looking, and he certainly knew how to seduce women.’
Wendy saw no point in telling the lovestruck Christine that he had seduced more than one woman, Amelia Bentham being another – better to let the woman have her delusions for the time being.
‘Your husband?’
‘He’s overseas again. I’m certain that he’s happiest when he’s not with me, not that he’d ever say it.’
‘A woman overseas?’
‘I don’t know, don’t care. I had Colin, but he’s gone.’
‘You intend to find another?’
‘None are as attractive as he was.’
‘Tell me, Christine, are you levelling with me? If you’re not, it will go against you.’
‘I’ve been honest. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘Why, indeed? You’ve been hoodwinking your husband, consistently lying to us as to what you know. I can’t trust you, not totally, and if DCI Cook thinks you’re holding back, he’ll have you charged.’
‘Gwen will get me out.’
‘What is it with you two?’
‘We didn’t communicate for many years, not until she came to the police station the other day.’
‘Why? And why were you so sure she would come? You placed a lot of faith in her. Illogical if there was any tension between the two of you,’ Wendy said.
