Isaac’s estimation of Gwen Hislop took another leap up. Wendy, not as astute as Isaac, saw it differently. She was worried for Christine Mason, certain that she was about to confess.
‘I never saw him in the park, and where I had waited was coincidental,’ Christine continued. ‘I needed to know if his love for me was real or whether it was feigned. I was beside myself with worry, not that the relationship was floundering, but because I had assisted him with money. I had seen the taxi, taken its number.’
‘Photographic memory, we remember,’ Wendy said.
‘I’ve not finished my statement,’ Christine said.
‘Apologies, continue.’
‘I recognised the taxi as it sometimes picked up people at the hotel, let them off. I phoned the taxi company, they let me have the driver’s phone number. I knew his name. He told me about the fare and where he had picked them up, where he had dropped them off.
‘I went to the address in Pembridge Mews, not sure what to do or what to say. If he had been there, it would have been suspicious. If he was inside with the woman, then maybe they were together. I was confused, so I left. That’s the end of the statement.’
‘I don’t think there’s any more to say, do you?’ Gwen Hislop said. She had a look of satisfaction, as if she was going to call a halt to the proceedings and take her and her sister out of the police station.
‘We can probably accept that Christine found the taxi and the driver,’ Wendy said. ‘However, there’s one flaw.’
‘Clutching at straws, trying to pin this murder on my client, will not work. We all recognise her weak personality, her lack of confidence in herself.’
Isaac could see that the sister made up for Christine’s failings in bucketfuls.
‘Barry and Matilda Montgomery took a taxi at the end of Pembridge Mews,’ Wendy continued. ‘It’s a cul-de-sac. There’s no way that your client would have found out the address from the taxi driver. He would not have waited at the address.’ She knew that she was placing the woman in the line of fire again, her previous statement shot down in flames.
‘Is this true?’ Gwen looked over at her sister, forgetting momentarily she was there as the lawyer, not as her sister.
‘No, yes…’
‘What is it, Christine?’ Isaac said. The woman was on the ropes, the confession was about to come; he was sure of it.
Christine buried her face in her hands. ‘I knew the address. The taxi driver only confirmed where he had picked up the two of them.’
‘The truth this time.’
‘I knew that Colin wasn’t his real name, or maybe the other one wasn’t.’
‘You knew that he also went by the name of Barry Montgomery?’
‘He left his wallet by the side of the bed once. I looked inside it. He was asleep, he never knew.’
‘You knew of his subterfuge?’
‘Not really. I never knew what he was doing when he wasn’t with me. I assumed it was something to do with the government, but I never asked.’
‘It could have been criminal.’
‘Not Colin, never. He was too smart for that, too beautiful.’
Gwen said nothing, just sat back with her arms folded. Her sister was doing a good job without her help.
‘Did you check on who owned the address in Pembridge Mews?’
‘I didn’t stay long. I could see a woman in the window of the house behind me, an old man coming out of a door.’
‘You’re convinced that he’s been unfaithful with this other woman. Is that why you murdered him?’
‘No. I’ve lied to you, I know that. But I never murdered him, I never could. I loved him so much.’
‘Mrs Mason, you’ll be remanded on suspicion of involvement in the death of Barry Montgomery, also known as Colin Young.’
‘DCI Cook, you can’t do that to my sister, my client,’ Gwen Hislop said. ‘Consider her fragile mental state.’
‘A doctor will be assigned to her. He can make that judgement, prescribe the necessary medicines if needed.’
‘She has not admitted her guilt. You don’t have enough evidence.’
‘I’m afraid we do. And you as an experienced lawyer know that. Appealing to my good nature will not help. The continuing lies, the attempts at subterfuge, the denial of your client being in Hyde Park and then Pembridge Mews is damning. We also have the embezzlement of the hotel’s funds. Your client may be as she says, as you say, naive, but it does not excuse her from the crime.’
Outside the interview room, Wendy spoke to Isaac. ‘You were harsh in there.’
‘I did my duty. Do you have a problem with that?’ Isaac replied tersely.
‘I just wish it could have been handled differently.’
‘It couldn’t, and you know it.’
‘I know, but the evidence is still circumstantial.’
‘It always will be. We can’t rely on Forensics and Pathology to help us here. It’s either a full confession or sufficient evidence. And with Christine Mason, there’s plenty.’
‘I still don’t believe she did it, a gut feeling.’
‘Then get your gut to tell your feet to get walking. Find the killer, and the woman walks free.’
‘I will.’
‘I hope you’re successful. We’ve encountered a few rogues, that Archibald Marshall for one, Tony Mason for another, and I wouldn’t give much creditability to Nick Domett. Make them sweat, and whoever else.’
Isaac walked away, not pleased that he had spoken to his sergeant abruptly, aware that his gut also told him that the case was not over yet.
Chapter 32
‘The truth, Domett,’ Larry said. The two of them, along with Isaac, were sitting in Domett’s office. It was six in the evening, and the man had been on the phone when the two
