***
Wendy found Mrs Hawthorne in a good mood. ‘It’s her next door.’
‘What about her?’ Wendy asked.
‘Her husband was here last night. They had a terrible argument. I could hear it from my side of the fence.’
Wendy knew that Mrs Hawthorne was just the sort of person a murder investigation needs; the last thing a neighbour wants.
‘What was said?’
‘I wasn’t listening, not particularly.’ Wendy knew she was.
‘Maybe if we sit down and have a cup of tea,’ Wendy suggested.
Knox was languishing in prison, awaiting trial. Adamant was being held at Challis Street, and he was about to walk free, which would only mean trouble. Already the man’s QC had been on the phone to DCS Goddard and to Commissioner Davies.
‘I only hope you know what you’re doing,’ Goddard commented to Isaac after he had ended the call from the QC.
Davies’s reaction had been more direct. ‘Don’t let Cook stuff this up.’ So much for the honeymoon period, Goddard thought after the commissioner ended the call.
‘Mrs Hawthorne, what was the argument about?’ Wendy said. Both of the women were sitting comfortably by an imitation wood fire. Wendy was anxious to draw the information out of a woman who was glad of the company.
‘She wanted him to stay at the house, he didn’t. Something about it being a shrine to a dead man, a man she loved more than him.’
‘Is that all?’
‘The husband’s right. The woman, she fusses around where Mr Aberman’s body was found, even erected a little cross.’
Wendy realised the woman didn’t only look over the fence, she also had a pair of binoculars. She could sympathise with Aberman’s ex-wife.
‘What happened with the husband? Did he stay?’
‘Not him. He slammed the door hard on his way out and got into his car.’
‘The woman?’
‘I didn’t see her again. She had a visitor later.’
‘Do you know who it was?’
‘It was Archie.’
‘Archie Adamant?’ Wendy said. The name had come as a surprise to her. ‘I didn’t know you knew the Adamants.’
‘I don’t, not really. Before I retired, I was a teacher at a school not far from here. Very expensive, it was. It was Archie, I’m certain, even though it was twenty, maybe twenty-five years ago. Back then, he was skinny, used to play football for the school team. Now, he’s overweight, and no longer attractive.’
‘How can you be certain?’
‘I always remember my boys. He was a little surly, a bully sometimes, but his academic results were fine, and he was a fine sportsman.’
‘We’ve arrested Archie Adamant for murder,’ Wendy said.
‘I’m not surprised.’
‘Why?’
‘I knew his father was successful, although I never met him. The mother would come sometimes, but she died. After that, Archie seemed to spend a lot of time on his own. He used to cheat in the exams.’
‘Did you catch him?’
‘I saw him do it once, told him I’d report him the next time.’
‘Did he stop?’
‘Archie? I doubt it, just became more careful. He was always pushing the boundaries.’
‘Sneaking young girls into the school? I’m assuming it was boarding.’
‘It was, but not Archie. Some of the other boys did. I don’t know why as he wasn’t a bad-looking boy when he was younger.’
‘He’s never married,’ Wendy said.
‘He wasn’t gay, or at least, I don’t think he was.’
‘He wasn’t. The man is celibate. What else can you tell me about him?’
‘Not much more. I continued for a few years more at the school before retiring. Last night was the first time I’d seen him since.’
Wendy made a phone call to Isaac. ‘Archie Adamant’s been out to Aberman’s house, met with the man’s widow.’
‘Give me thirty-five minutes, and we’ll go and interview her. Is she at home?’
‘There’s a car in the driveway.’
Wendy turned to Mrs Hawthorne. ‘Is she there?’
‘She’s not been out.’
‘She’s in the house,’ Wendy said to Isaac.
‘Make sure she doesn’t leave.’
‘I’ll put my car in her driveway, block her exit.’
‘That’ll do.’
‘The missing piece?’ Wendy said.
‘I hope so.’
***
Isaac, acutely conscious of the remaining time he could hold Adamant in custody at Challis Street, made the trip to Bray in thirty-two minutes. ‘Does she know we’re here?’ Isaac asked.
‘I’m sure she does,’ Wendy said.
The two police officers walked down the driveway of Aberman’s old house. Wendy knocked on the door.
‘Sergeant Gladstone, what do you want?’
‘I’m here with DCI Cook. We’ve a few questions for you.’
‘Very well, do come in.’
The three sat in the kitchen. ‘It’s the warmest place in the house,’ the woman said. Wendy thought she was remarkably calm, as if she was making an effort to conceal her true feelings.
‘Last night you had a visitor,’ Wendy said.
‘I had two. My husband, although he did not stay long.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘It’s her next door, isn’t it?’
‘What happened last night should concern you more.’
‘My husband has become difficult. He wants to live in London, I want to live here.’
‘Is that it?’
‘He thinks I’m becoming obsessive about the house, as if it’s become a remembrance of Ben.’
‘Has it?’
‘I can’t help remembering the good times we had here, it’s only natural, and I certainly don’t believe the spirit of the dead man walks the house at night.’
‘The room where he died?’ Isaac asked.
‘My husband planned to make it into a study. If he doesn’t want to come here, then I’ll find a use for it.’
‘Will he come?’
‘What option does he have? Both of the houses are in my name. If he wants London, then he can find himself a bedsit.’
‘Do you want him to come here?’
‘It’s up to him. I like it here. He’s no Ben, just a man for the cold nights.’
‘I’ve
