‘Where did you find that out?’
‘One of the neighbours is a police officer. He told me about it. Said he had complained to Montgomery, a heated exchange according to my contact.’
‘What did he do about it?’
‘He went and bought his son another ball. Montgomery hadn’t done anything wrong, not legally.’
‘Okay, we know the man’s a tyrant, treats his wife abysmally, and he treated his children with the same contempt. Does that explain Matilda committing suicide; her killing her brother?’ Isaac asked.
The investigation was moving forward, the pieces were coming together, the key players were all in play, and there was a flight to Jamaica still available, the chance to arrive before his parents’ wedding anniversary. It would make a great surprise if he and Jenny could arrive as the cake was being cut.
‘It doesn’t,’ Larry said. ‘According to the ex-boyfriend, he had dated Matilda for a couple of months, secretive meetings at an out-of-the-way cinema, a distant pub. He said she could be affectionate but never spoke about her childhood. He was surprised when I told him about her brother.’
‘Had he been to her house?’
‘Never. She never told him where it was; he’d never bothered to find out. He’d initially accepted her for what she was but in the end he had despaired of her, and he had stopped phoning her; she never rang again. He thought she had found someone else, and he moved on; just too much hard work.’
‘He sounds cold,’ Wendy said.
‘From his point of view, she was not easy to understand, and there was a barrier that neither he nor anyone else could break through,’ Larry said.
‘Amelia Bentham implied the same. It was only with her brother that Matilda was truly happy. The dancing, the singing, the visits to the pub, were always affectations, a façade.’
‘Is there any reason to believe that her relationship with her brother was anything more than that of siblings?’ Isaac asked.
‘That’s a terrible thought,’ Bridget said. ‘According to Pathology, she hadn’t had sexual intercourse for some time.’
‘That’s possible, but they are looking for penetrative intercourse in the last few days. We know the woman had been on her own for six days before committing suicide, and we’re not assuming that she had had sex any time before that. The question remains, did she harbour feelings for her brother that went beyond sibling affection?’
‘Did she and her brother have an incestuous relationship, is that what you’re asking?’ Wendy said.
‘It needs to be known. Try Amelia Bentham again. See what she can tell you. Also, Larry, the neighbours, the old man with a walking stick. He likes to talk, no doubt he keeps a watch for what’s going on.’
‘He fancied her, I know that. An old man’s folly, looking at Matilda Montgomery, imagining that he was the young stud again.’
‘This is abhorrent,’ Bridget said, ‘what we’re talking about.’
‘It’s the human condition,’ Isaac reminded her. ‘We’re here to solve a murder investigation. The world’s a messy place, full of depravity and iniquity. We need the truth.’
Isaac could see that the meeting was digressing. He suggested a five-minute break. Afterwards, the team reassembled. Isaac had taken the opportunity to get himself a coffee, the two women, tea, and Larry, resorting to type, a cigarette outside the building in the car park. Not that he brought the smell of it back, but the strong mint he was sucking was the giveaway.
‘Are we sure about Matilda Montgomery’s guilt?’ Isaac asked. He sipped his coffee, realised that it wasn’t as good as when Jenny made it at their flat.
‘No,’ Larry said. ‘She committed suicide, and the timing for her seclusion aligns with her brother’s death, but it’s not conclusive.’
‘She must have known.’
‘That appears likely, but how? Assuming we give her the benefit of the doubt on this, what do we have?’
‘Nothing. An older woman who loved him thought he was cheating on her. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, to paraphrase William Congreve,’ Isaac said.
‘Reading the classics again?’ Bridget said.
‘It’s just something I remembered from school,’ Isaac said, slightly embarrassed that he had shown his education.
‘What do we have?’ Wendy said. ‘A vengeful woman, a loving sister, a father emotionless at his son’s death, only mildly more concerned about his daughter. And then Barry Montgomery is pretending to be Colin Young and staying at the Fitzroy Hotel.’
‘Don’t forget Amelia Bentham,’ Bridget said.
‘It’s not her,’ Wendy said.
‘Why?’
‘She had been sleeping with him, but she’s an easy lay.’
‘Have you checked on the skeletons in her cupboard? What if she knew of a relationship between the brother and sister? What if she had experienced abuse as a child – her father, an uncle? Who knows what torments lurk in the mind of the innocent, the promiscuous, the devious?’
‘Fanciful,’ Isaac said. ‘We’ve had Wendy with conspiracy theory. Now we have intrigue and sexual deviancy. What next?’
‘Christine Mason’s husband,’ Larry said. ‘Where does he fit into all this? What do we know about him? Barry Montgomery could have been using the man’s wife as a way to find out what her husband was involved in, who he was meeting, that sort of thing.’
‘The woman doesn’t know. All she knows is that he travels a lot, no doubt he’s bribed with money and women, returning the favour as needed.’
‘A woman knows more,’ Isaac said. He thought back to when he had been with Jess. Jess was a
