Broderick pointed to the view of the house next door through the hall window.
‘Their lights are on, Calbot. Which is more than can be said about yours. Come on.’
Broderick set off at pace across the hall and out of the front door.
‘You knew both Mrs Brooks and her late husband well, Mr and Mrs Constantine?’ Broderick asked the elderly couple sitting before him in their sitting room. He had been surprised at how different the inside of the neighbours’ house looked compared to the style and tasteful opulence of The Captain’s House next door. All here was modern and functional. The style was an awkward imposition that worked against the original design and lay-out of the Victorian villa that at its heart, the house still remained.
‘Not really, I’m afraid,’ replied the husband. ‘We’ve lived here for twenty-two years and in all that time I can remember just a handful of conversations.’
‘Usually about the weather,’ Mrs Constantine added. ‘It’s awful, isn’t it?’ she continued. ‘Poor dear. How did she...?’
‘Did her husband’s death three years ago make her any more... accessible?’
‘Less so, if anything. She kept herself very much to herself,’ the woman continued.
‘Fiercely independent, I suppose.’ her husband chipped in.
‘No close relatives or friends that you were aware of?’ Broderick enquired.
‘Well, we would usually have said no...’ Mrs Constantine began.
‘But?’ Broderick pushed.
‘Well, these last few months I noticed that someone seemed to be staying at the house. On and off. A gentleman.’
‘Never saw him myself,’ Mr Constantine added sceptically.
‘Oh, I did, dear,’ she continued. ‘From a distance, you understand. Never saw his face.’
‘Any idea who he might have been?’ asked Broderick.
‘As it happens, I think I do. I met Mrs Brooks in Marks & Spencer’s last week. Quite unexpectedly, actually.’
‘Go on.’
‘I told her that she was looking well and she thanked me and for some reason I mentioned her visitor. She became quite agitated. Then she clammed up. But I have a theory.’
‘I’m afraid my wife is a little too fond of Miss Marple, Inspector.’ Mr Constantine added with raised eyebrows. Mrs Constantine continued unabashed.
‘Just after Mrs Brook’s husband passed away, I had a converstation with her housekeeper. Just outside the house here, actually. Naturally I enquired after her employer and she told me that she seemed to be coping alright, but was concerned to try and make contact with her only living relative. She explained that it was the Gregson boy. You know the story I take it?
Broderick nodded. ‘Please continue.’
‘Well, they had adopted the lad after the unpleasant deaths of the boy’s parents in the 1960’s and had lost track of him over the years. Families are strange aren’t they? Anyway, Mrs Brooks was rather keen to track him down. Understandable, I suppose’
“And?’ Broderick continued.
‘Well that’s who I think her visitor may have been. Just a guess, but you did ask.’
‘News to me!’ Mr Constantine exclaimed.
‘I did tell you, dear. Only you never really listen.’
‘Charming. Isn’t that just charming?’
Mr Constantine folded his arms by way of cutting himself off from further conversation.
‘Poor man,’ his wife continued. ‘What a terrible shock this will be for him.’
15
Their car doors slammed almost in unison as Broderick and Massetti arrived for work in the rear parking yard of the RGP’s headquarters.
‘You look terrible, Broderick,’ his superior observed.
‘Cheers. That’s what being up all night can do for a boy’s complexion.’
‘Your daughter? The youngest one?’
Broderick knew that by ‘youngest one’ Massetti had really meant the ‘Down’s Syndrome one’. It never ceased to amaze Broderick the lengths to which people would go to avoid actually naming the condition. Ignorance and embarrassment still lingered on in these supposedly more enlightened times.
‘Daisy. My youngest daughter is called Daisy, ma’am, and she’s probably been out clubbing all night with a new boyfriend. Not that I’d know, of course, because some of us had to pull an all -nighter. Old lady found dead in suspicious circumstances up on Trafalgar Road.’
‘I would have thought you had enough on your plate, Chief Inspector.’
‘One might have thought that ma’am, but truth is I didn’t quite get out of the building quick enough last night.’
‘A dedicated officer to the end Broderick. That’s why you are so indispensable.’
The pair continued to the Chief Super’s office in silence. Once there, Massetti continued to question Broderick about the developments in the case that were foremost on her mind..
‘When will full forensics be back on Bryant and Ferra?’
‘When they’re back, ma’am.’ Massetti’s glare told Broderick all he needed to know. ‘The lab’s rushing them through as it is.’
‘Well keep the pressure up, Broderick,’ Massetti insisted. ‘The Commissioner is, to say the very least, concerned that we tie this one up a soon as possible. Which means yesterday. Understood?’
Broderick nodded.
‘Very clear, ma’am.’
Massetti sailed on.
‘The press are having a field day. The story’s even playing in the UK and Spain.’
‘I’m sure it is,’ Broderick replied. Massetti paused for a moment.
‘By the by. How’s Sullivan shaping up?’
‘No complaints,’ Broderick answered.
‘The slightest indication that she’s not up to the mark, I want to know. She’s only supposed to be here on secondment. You’re asking a lot of her. Remember, she’s here because she cocked up on a case over there. I don’t want her doing the same on my piece of rock. Understand?’
‘Crystal, ma’am.’
‘Good.’
Broderick decided to take his chance.
‘Ma’am, I need to request more resources. With both...’
But his plea was cut off in mid-sentence by the ringing of Massetti’s phone.The mobile was at her ear in a moment.
‘Massetti. Yep, okay. Put him through. Ah, good morning, sir. I trust you’re well.’ Massetti waved Broderick away. As he left Massetti’s office, he found Sullivan and Calbot waiting for him.
‘Heard you had a busy night, sir,’ Sullivan remarked somewhat archly.
‘Yes. Thanks for your concern Sullivan,’ Broderick repied. ‘It means so much to me that you care. Calbot brought you up to date I hope?’
‘He did indeed, sir. United 2, Porto 1.’
‘How very amusing, Sullivan, I meant of course Mrs Brooks’ death. Firstly, check out the history of the Gregson murder up at The Captain’s House. I need everything you can find on it and the whereabouts of the Gregson boy, if he’s still alive.’
‘On it, sir,’ Calbot confirmed.
‘Second priority – a mug of tea and a bacon sarnie if you can find the time between jokes, Sullivan?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Sullivan answered none too happily. ‘Understood.’
