other money?
He switched the recording machine on and played back his messages.
The first voice he recognised as David Birdham’s.
‘Graham, I’ve just come out of the management meeting. I’d hoped to contact you at the office, but it went on a bit. Anyway, the outcome’s good. Your appointment’s agreed.
You are Head of Personnel — or, if you prefer it, Head of Human Resources. The announcement will be made officially on Tuesday. Congratulations, Graham. Have a nice weekend.’
He stretched back with pleasure on his swivel chair and let the tape run on.
‘Graham, it’s Charmian. I just missed you at the office and I’ve been trying all evening, but you’re obviously out. .’ That identified the timing of the message as the Friday evening, when he’d treated himself to dinner at the Grange. Her voice sounded drunk and angry. ‘Listen, it’s about Mummy. She rang me to tell me, just to crow, the cow, but she said she hadn’t told you yet. About William Essex. Apparently that affair she was always on about actually did happen, because the only will the old poof left dates from that time — and she cops the lot. Now all I’m saying is — I’m just warning you — I know she’s cut me out of her will and when she goes, you’ll get it all — but you’ve got to make some over to Henry and Emma. Got to! Do you understand that? That’s all I wanted to say.’
The end of the message was almost apologetic.
She sounded sheepish, suddenly aware of her drunkenness.
But the news, the hard fact that the recording contained, was more bounty. Now Graham had the last piece of the jigsaw that his upbringing had denied him. Not only was he to have the benefits of an increased earned income; he was also now to have the unfair advantage of inherited wealth.
The random gods of chance were in munificent mood; and Graham Marshall was their chosen son.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The doorbell rang and he answered it.
Detective-Inspector Laker stood there, holding a briefcase, looking up with his habitual expression of sadness. ‘Ah, you’re back, Mr. Marshall,’ he said, though it was no surprise. He had watched Graham’s return from the Ford Escort parked opposite.
‘Yes.’
‘I’ve come in connection with your mother-in-law, Mrs Lilian Hinchcliffe.’
‘Yes, I’ve only just heard the news. From Charmian, my. . sister-in-law.’ Graham estimated that his voice sounded properly shocked. ‘Won’t you come in, Detective-Inspector?’
‘Thank you.’
In the sitting-room instinctively they took the chairs they had used on their previous encounter.
‘It’s terrible,’ said Graham. ‘You know there have been a couple of previous attempts?’
‘Yes, yes.’ The Detective-Inspector nodded slowly. ‘I’ve been investigating all the background.’
‘She was rather unstable, I’m afraid. Prone to dramatic gestures.’
‘Yes. Like sending that anonymous letter we discussed when I was last here.’
‘Exactly.’ Graham liked the reference; it seemed to recapture some of the sympathy of the previous occasion. He smiled wryly, before an unwelcome thought arrived. ‘Surely there’s nothing about my wife’s death that. .’
‘No, no,’ Laker reassured him. ‘No, just sorting out a few details about your mother-in-law.’
‘Fine.’
‘Of course, after that letter, you had no reason to love her.’ Graham shrugged magnanimously. ‘She was a rather foolish old woman. I’m not one to bear grudges.’
‘No. Good.’ There was a pause. ‘She left no note.’
‘No?’
‘She did on the occasions of her two previous attempts.’
‘Oh. Well, perhaps she thought those signalled her intentions sufficiently.’
‘Perhaps. Seems strange, though, for someone as dedicated to the dramatic gesture as she was, not to leave a note.’
‘People committing suicide are hardly rational.’
‘That’s true enough.’ Laker gave a little grunt, perhaps even a laugh. ‘Mr. Marshall, I think it quite possible that you were one of the last people to see Mrs. Hinchcliffe alive. Except for the ambulance and hospital staff.’
‘Oh, really? I don’t actually know the details of how she did it, or where or. . My sister-in-law just told me it was suicide.’
Laker did not take his cue to fill in the background, but went on, ‘We reckon Mrs. Hinchcliffe came to see you on Saturday morning.’
‘Yes.’
‘Can you tell me what happened?’
‘You’re not going to believe this, Inspector, but she attacked me with a knife.’
‘Uhuh.’
‘She was absolutely mad.’ He took pleasure in returning the aspersion she had cast on him. He felt supremely confident and dared to continue, ‘She was still going on about Merrily’s death, convinced that I’d killed her. I’m afraid she really was round the twist.’
‘And she attacked you with a knife?’
‘Yes.’ He drew back his sleeve to show the scratch on his arm. ‘Did this. Would have done worse if I’d given her the chance.’
‘So you fought her off?’
‘What else did you expect me to do?’
‘Thus sustaining the injuries I can see on your face.’
Graham’s hand went up to the raw lines of scratches on his cheek. ‘Yes.’
‘What time did this attack take place?’
‘I don’t know. Round midday, I suppose.’
‘Uhuh. And what did you do then?’
‘What did I do then?’
‘Yes. Your mother-in-law came round and attacked you with a knife, you fought her off. . what did you do then?’
‘Well, I got dressed.’ In reply to Laker’s raised eyebrow, he added, ‘She had woken me up. I got dressed and went out.’
‘Out where?’
‘Well, first I went down by the river and had lunch.’
‘Whereabouts?’
‘Just by the river. A picnic.’
‘With anyone?’
‘No. On my own.’
‘And then?’
‘Then I walked over Hammersmith Bridge and went to the cinema.’
‘Oh yes. What did you see?’
‘
‘Ah. I saw that a few weeks back. Not sure that I approve from the religious point of view, but it had some funny sequences.’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you like that moment after he’d been to bed with the girl. .?’
‘Um. .’
‘You know, he opened the window and. .’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t remember that bit.’
