‘Kill your mother? We don’t know either. Tell us about the day she disappeared.’
‘I want to see her first.’
‘It’s a crime scene, and your mother has lain in that bed for a very long time.’
‘I still have a right to see her.’
‘It’s highly irregular,’ Isaac said.
‘Check my records. I’m a qualified doctor. Death holds no fear for me.’
‘She’s your mother.’
‘Will you deny me?’
Isaac called Gordon Windsor at the mansion. ‘We’ve removed her father. If, as you say, she’s a doctor, then under the circumstances, we can make an exception,’ Windsor said. ‘She could have killed her father, you know that.’
‘I do.’
At the conclusion of the call, Isaac turned to Caroline Dickson. ‘If you’re sure?’
‘I am.’
***
Nobody said a word on the drive back to Gilbert and Dorothy Lawrence’s house. Isaac was in the driver’s seat, Larry beside him. In the back of the car, Caroline Dickson with her husband, Desmond. He was holding her hand. Caroline looked impassively forward, her eyes closed. Both of the police officers were unsure about the wisdom of allowing the woman to see the skeletal remains of her mother.
Outside the neglected mansion, Caroline looked up at its foreboding frontage. ‘I’ve not been here for a long time,’ she said.
‘It’s not necessary to do this,’ her husband said.
‘It is. She’s my mother. I always hoped that one day she would walk in the door.’
‘You always knew she was dead.’
‘Is that true?’ Isaac said. He was standing to one side of the woman. In his hands he had coveralls for her to put on, as well as nitrile gloves, overshoes, and a mask.
‘What else could I think? She disappears, our father is beside himself, and I’m out there looking for her.’
‘Were you still living here then?’
‘I was married to Desmond.’
‘The house is big enough for you both to have lived here.’
‘We weren’t, neither was Ralph. I used to come over several times a week, although Ralph never did.’
‘Why?’
‘My father had little time for him. Ralph had already been married and divorced by then, and he was always after money.’
‘Did your father help him?’
‘You never knew our father, or you’d not ask that question.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We had the best education, and all that was needed to succeed in life. After that, we were on our own. Our father did not believe in children sponging off the parents, no matter how much money they had. He was all into character building, finding your own way in the world.’
‘And you?’
‘I went to university, studied medicine. I met Desmond while I was studying and we were married. I still practise, three days a week. You can check. You’ll find what I’ve told you to be true.’
‘If he believed in his children finding their way, then why will you and your brother inherit?’
‘Our mother believed that we should, but our father was circumspect. But he was a great believer in the family, and there’s nowhere else he could leave it to. Don’t get me wrong. He was a firm but fair father, and I loved him.’
‘Your mother?’
‘Not as much as my father, but now…’
‘We’ve no proof of death. The room is almost as if it’s a shrine to her.’
‘Mrs Dickson and one other,’ Grant Meston said as he came around the corner.
‘I’ll go,’ Isaac said.
‘Very well. Mrs Dickson, you cannot touch the body, is that clear?’
‘I’ve seen dead bodies before.’
‘Not like this.’
‘Are you sure it’s her?’
‘Not totally, but the body is in your parents’ room. She’s dressed in one of her nightdresses.’
Larry stood back, as did Desmond Dickson. ‘I could do with a cigarette. This place gives me the creeps,’ Dickson said.
‘I’ll join you. Have you been here before?’
‘Once. Gilbert was pleasant. I remember that well enough.’
‘His wife?’
‘Dorothy, Caroline’s mother, was exceedingly gracious. An attractive woman, beautifully dressed. Caroline’s not so keen on dressing up to the nines, but her mother was.’
‘Ralph Lawrence?’
‘Gilbert had no time for him, neither did I. We’ve not seen him for a few years, and last time, he wasn’t looking so good.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He’d put on weight, and, as usual, he was only one step ahead of the debt collectors. No money, but it didn’t stop him driving a late-model Mercedes, a woman on his arm.’
‘What sort of woman?’
‘The sort who are impressed by money. Attractive in a tarty way, no doubt a lot of fun.’
Before entering the house, Caroline Dickson was required to sign some forms. After that, a lecture on the procedure to be followed at a crime scene. She nodded her head, said yes and no as appropriate.
The three entered through the back door of the house and moved through the kitchen. ‘I’m not so sure now,’ Caroline said.
‘It’s not too late,’ Isaac said.
‘I want to see her, whatever happens.’
One of the CSEs was standing to one side of the main entrance. An elaborate and vast staircase was on the other side. ‘We used to slide down the bannister when we were young.’
‘Dangerous?’
‘Ralph fell off once and broke his leg. After that, we weren’t allowed. Ralph was mischievous. No doubt why we got on so well.’
‘Was your father a humorous man?’
‘Not father. He thrived on his work ethic. We rarely saw him relax, and he wasn’t the sort of parent who’d come and read us a bedtime story.’
‘Your mother?’
‘She would.’
‘Are you sure about this, Mrs Dickson?’ Meston said. ‘Most relatives have a bad enough time when we conduct a formal identification, but there we’ve had a chance to make it more congenial.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,’ Caroline said.
‘Is it familiar?’
‘Apart from the decay.’
Upstairs, another of the CSEs had strung crime
