“That Monday morning was different to others while the builders were on-site, though, wasn’t it?” said Lydia. “Marion usually left at eight forty-five, based on your timings. The builders told the police it was almost five past nine before Marion drove away that day.”
“I can’t comment on that,” said Theo. “I was at work attending my first meeting.”
“The builders maintained it wasn’t them that delayed your wife,” said Lydia.
“Perhaps someone rang Marion,” said Gus. “Either on the landline or her mobile. It would explain why she got delayed and why she didn’t go directly to work as normal.”
“We don’t need to remind you how long it takes to cover the distance between here and the Quidhampton area on the A36,” said Lydia. “A matter of minutes, regardless of the time of day.”
“Yet, it was nine-thirty,” said Gus. “Twenty-five minutes after Marion left home when witnesses reported seeing her white Lexus RX350 on the main road into Salisbury. Where did she go in the meantime? Where was there to go? You’ve driven that route a thousand times, Mr Reeves.”
“I don’t have a clue,” said Theo.
“Where were you at eleven forty-five, Mr Reeves?” asked Lydia.
“We’d just ended a meeting, and I was sitting in my office eating an early lunch. A colleague brought me a coffee at about noon.”
“Marion died at around ten o’clock,” said Gus, “thirty minutes after those witnesses saw her car on the A36. Why do you think your wife drove to Churchfields, Mr Reeves? Was it to a firm she often visited, somewhere connected to her printing firm?”
“I’m sure Marion would have mentioned it if she had,” said Theo. “I’d never known her to go to the Churchfields Industrial Estate before. There are lots of small firms operating out of there, even today. Not all the same businesses as were open back then, but it’s been a busy site ever since it opened.”
“Exactly,” said Gus. “A busy little site, especially at ten in the morning. We know where Marion was at nine-thirty. It took her five minutes maximum to reach the industrial estate from that point on the main road. How on earth did Marion drive onto the industrial estate without someone seeing her? She parked her car on a side street at around nine thirty-five. Was her killer waiting for her? Did the attack start as soon as they got into the car, or was there an argument first? If blackmail was behind the meeting and Marion had the money, why did she need to die? Why did nobody see or hear anything? At some point after ten, the killer got out of the Lexus, unseen, despite being covered in Marion’s blood and carrying a knife. Where did they go? How did they arrive on that side street in the first place? On foot, or by car? Why did it take another hour and three-quarters before an employee from a nearby business spotted Marion slumped over the steering wheel of her car?”
“Your colleagues asked these same questions seven years ago, Mr Freeman,” said Theo Reeves. “I can’t explain, I’m afraid.”
“Our colleagues missed something during their investigation,” said Gus. “We need to uncover what lay behind that clandestine meeting.”
“What did you make of the incident with the pick-up driver?” asked Lydia.
“I’m sorry, you’ve lost me,” said Theo.
“The police heard from eyewitnesses who saw Marion talking to the driver of a pick-up truck on Friday after she withdrew the cash from her bank. Didn’t the police ask if you could identify that man?”
“I have a vague recollection, but it wasn’t something Marion was likely to do, so I never gave it much credence. I expect he was just asking for directions.”
“What did you make of it when the police interviewed Simon Turner?” asked Lydia. “That must have surprised you when they found his fingerprints inside the Lexus.”
“Not at all,” said Theo. “I remember that stormy night, and Marion told me what had happened as soon as she reached home. Simon lives just up the road. It was the neighbourly thing to do. The poor chap didn’t deserve the third-degree for accepting a lift.”
“That’s all the questions we have, for now, Mr Reeves,” said Gus. “We may return in the future based on the answers we receive from the other names on our list.”
“You plan to speak to Stephanie, of course,” said Theo. “What about Martyn? Perhaps it would be best if you spoke to his manager, Arthur Jackson. He’s nearing retirement, which is a shame. Martyn will miss him. He’ll feel less threatened with Arthur in the room.”
“You believe Martyn needs a responsible adult in attendance?” asked Lydia.
“Look, I’m not his favourite person after showing him the door,” said Theo Reeves. “Arthur Jackson knows Martyn as well as anyone does. He’ll help you get Martyn to answer any questions you have.”
“Many thanks for your time, Mr Reeves,” said Gus. “We’ll let you get on with your day while we take a trip towards town and then onto the industrial estate.”
Lydia and Gus walked to the front door. Theo Reeves followed them and stood by the door until they were inside Lydia’s Mini and had pulled away from the kerb.
“What did you make of that then, Lydia?” asked Gus.
“I don’t think Theo was hiding anything, guv,” said Lydia. “I thought you gave him a hard time, but his story didn’t waver from what he told DI Wightman.”
“There was one thing Theo didn’t comment on that suggests to me that we’re on the right track.”
“Really, guv,” said Lydia. “What did
