‘My father was violent in his younger days, and well, you know that. He spent time in the cells for brawling as a youth, and then in his twenties it was drunken fighting outside the pub of a night time. Petty by today’s standards and your contemporaries back then didn’t have the rules and regulations they have now. He was a troublemaker, I’ll admit to that, so would he. He’d even admit that the police taking him round the back of the station and thumping some sense into him did him good, made him see the errors of his ways.’
‘Or made him wise enough to make sure that his violent outbursts were committed away from prying eyes.’
‘You’re not here to talk about my father,’ Samantha said brusquely, her pleasant demeanour temporarily absent.
‘We aren’t, not yet,’ Isaac said.
‘What does that mean?’ Samantha replied.
‘We know that whoever killed your husband would have been an agile man, at least agile enough to climb the stairs up to the top of the house where he had died. We’ve checked, and your father had a broken leg at the time.’
‘My father wouldn’t have harmed Marcus, no matter what.’
‘Because he liked him?’
‘He wouldn’t have done anything to make me sad or angry. My father and I were always very close, even more so after my mother died.’
‘When did your mother die?’
‘When I was thirteen, cancer.’
‘And your father looked after you from then?’
‘We always had someone or other in the house to look after me. Good women from a reputable agency, but it was my father who was always there for me. He never missed out on spending time with me, helping me with my schoolwork, attending open days, making sure that I went on all the school trips overseas.’
‘And then you get tied up with Marcus, a man of no great worth and certainly not educated or cultured to your level.’
‘He had hidden depths, did Marcus.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He had a kind heart. We met one night after he had lost his job and his driving licence, and I was upset after a broken romance. My father was in prison, the last time as you know for that robbery.’
‘If your father had not been in prison, would you and Marcus have spent time together?’
‘It’s unlikely. My father always ensured that whoever I went out with was of my class, no criminals or ne’er-do-wells for me.’
‘Considering your father’s reputation, that’s a surprising statement.’
‘As I said, my father is a businessman, but one with a criminal record. He knew what that entailed, the sort of men that he associated with. He didn’t want that for me. And as for those that I went out with before Marcus, the sort of men my father approved of, some of them were total bastards. But with Marcus, it was different. As I said, he had a kind heart even if he did not have the sophistication of the others. He treated me well, and he loved our children. What more could a woman ask for?’
Isaac could not discern whether it was a good story woven by a smart woman or a pack of lies. Further checking of Samantha Matthews and her history was needed.
‘Can we come back to the last time you saw Marcus?’ Larry said. He sat upright, or as upright as his protruding belly would allow; the tabletop and his stomach were too close to one another for him to be at more than an incline.
‘He left here, and I never saw him again. It was a normal day, no arguments, no issues with the children.’
‘Were there arguments?’
‘How long have you been married, Inspector?’
‘Eighteen years.’
‘Then you know the answer. We argued, but no more or less than any other married couple. Marcus wasn’t the sort of person to bear a grudge for too long, and I couldn’t see the point in staying angry. A flaring of tempers, some harsh words, that was all. And Marcus never hit me, not like some of those that my father vetted. And now, if you don’t mind, I think we’ve exhausted our conversation. Annie will be home soon, and I need to tell her about her father.’
Isaac had to concede that the woman was correct – there was no more to be gained by prolonging his and Larry’s time in the house, surprisingly pleasant considering the reputation of her father.
Chapter 6
Isaac had to admit to some trepidation as he and Wendy drove up to the front door of the mansion: the man they were to meet had a frightening reputation. Larry was confined to Challis Street. After the cake-eating episode at Samantha Matthews’ house, Isaac could only feel disgusted with the man. After all, he had gone out on a limb when he invited him to join the Homicide department at Challis Street.
Larry was heading for trouble, and whereas he had presented himself well in the past, now the skewed tie, the shirt hanging out, was not the image that Isaac wanted his team to portray. He prided himself on his personal appearance, each morning re-ironing the shirt that Jenny had ironed previously, always taking care to ensure that his short-cropped hair was brushed, his shoes freshly polished. To him, a good appearance was a sign of professionalism; Larry did not portray that in any measure.
On the front door of the mansion was a large brass knocker shaped like an elephant’s head, which Isaac duly raised and dropped. After a short time, the door opened, a man standing there, dressed
