A Shroud for Delilah (DCI Webb Mystery Book 1) (16 page)

‘Right, sir. Have either you or the young lady touched anything?’

‘I haven’t. The front door was open and I used a handkerchief for the phone. I’m not sure about Kate. She found her.’

Constable Timms bent down. ‘Are you all right, ma’am?’ Before, at the shop, she had thought him a rather pompous young man. Now he was in charge, solid, dependable, the embodiment of law and order.

‘Can you remember if you touched anything?’

Her lips felt like rubber. ‘I opened the front door when no one answered the bell. ‘And I’ — she gasped — ‘I touched her hand.’

‘Was it cold?’ Richard asked, and Timms glanced at him reprovingly.

‘No,’ Kate answered mechanically, ‘quite normal. Oh God!’ She caught her lip between her teeth and added piteously, ‘I’ve never seen anyone dead before.’

‘Can I take her home, Constable? She’s in a state of shock.’

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the investigating officer, sir. He shouldn’t be long.’

They arrived almost together, Webb, Stapleton the pathologist, and the police doctor, but they did not come to the kitchen. Kate continued to sit there,

Richard was silent at her side. She had stopped feeling cold, feeling anything, in fact, till sensation returned in full measure with the awareness of something brushing against her legs. With a gasping shriek she jumped from the chair, sending it skidding across the floor as a small form shot from under the table and out of the door. It was the grey cat Madge had stroked at the dinner party.

Kate gazed after it, waiting for the clattering of her heart to subside.

‘Pity it can’t talk,’ Richard commented, righting her chair. ‘It might have saved everyone a lot of trouble.’

They both turned as Webb came into the room. ‘I’m sorry to keep you waiting. Do sit down. Chief Inspector Webb of Shillingham CID. Mrs Romilly and Mr Mowbray, is that right?’ He glanced at Kate. ‘Any connection with Michael Romilly of the
Broadshire
News
?’

‘He’s my husband,’ she said dully.

‘I wondered. Unusual name. And you found the body, I believe. Are you feeling a little better now?’

‘Not much.’

‘We’ll get the police doctor to look at you before we take a full statement, but I’m afraid there are some questions that can’t wait. I’d like you to tell me exactly what happened, why you came to the house and so on.’

‘I’d been to the school — parents’ evening. Mr Dane asked me to collect a book on my way home.’

‘The front door was open?’

‘No, but it wasn’t locked. When Sylvia didn’t answer I tried the handle.’

‘Go on.’

The shaking started again. Richard said roughly, ‘Can’t you let her go? She’s in shock, for God’s sake. She’ll tell you everything in the morning.’

‘I’m sorry, sir. The doctor will see her in a moment, but the first account is vital, while it’s still fresh. Memory can play funny tricks, especially in cases of shock.’ All the same, he’d have to check she was fit to be questioned. Her hands were spread-eagled on her cheeks and above them her eyes, a deep blue-black, stared at him unseeingly. Webb wished he could lean forward and gently draw her hands from her face.

Kate said for the third time, ‘Please don’t let Henry see her.’

‘It’s all right, Mrs Romilly,’ Webb assured her. ‘Someone’s been sent to the school. He’ll know by now what’s happened.’

He was gentle and patient with her, but he let her omit nothing. The staring eyes with their expression of blank surprise, the lifeless hand, the fly, the scrawl on the mirror, all had to be described, lived through again. Suddenly, as though coming back to life,

Kate jerked upright. ‘I must get home! Lana will miss her bus!’

‘Miss Truscott’s baby-sitting,’ Richard explained. ‘She lives in Littlemarsh.’

‘Truscott? I know that name. Pulled a chap out of the river about six months ago.’ ‘Her brother,’ said Richard briefly.

‘Well, we’ll get someone to run her home.’

‘But she won’t know that,’ Kate insisted, ‘she’ll be worrying — and Josh might have woken. I must go.’

‘Very well, Mrs Romilly. I’ll ask Dr Roscoe to look at you and then you can go home. If the doctor gives the all-clear I’ll be along in about half an hour to fill in more details.’

‘I’ll take her back,’ Richard said firmly, getting to his feet.

‘That won’t be necessary, sir, but perhaps you’d be good enough to go down to the station with Sergeant Collins. We’ll need a full statement from you as well. Don’t worry about Mrs Romilly, a woman police officer will look after her.’

Ten minutes later, having seen the doctor, Kate was helped into the back of a police car by a woman detective. The rain was still streaming down. She had lost sight of Richard, and in this strange new world she missed him. He was her only link with normality.

Lana came hurrying down the stairs, her eyes widening at the sight of Kate’s escort.

‘You’re very late, Kate. Has anything happened?’

‘It’s Sylvia,’ Kate said jerkily, ‘she’s been murdered.’

‘Sylvia? You mean Mrs Dane, the artist? But she lives quite near, doesn’t she?’

‘Mrs Romilly’s a little shocked,’ Detective-Constable Lucas put in smoothly. ‘It was she who discovered the body.’

Lana gasped. ‘But how could you? You were at the school!’ Her eyes went uncomprehendingly from the policewoman to Kate. Then she said quickly, ‘Look, I wish I could stay with you, but the bus—’

‘Constable Ridley will run you home, miss. The car’s waiting outside.’

Lana stared at her blankly. ‘But there’s no need. I—’

‘You’ll have missed the bus by now anyway. Ten-thirty, wasn’t it?’

It was true, Kate realized, checking with her watch. Lana had no hope of reaching the bus station by ten-thirty. She seemed to realize this and, her immediate problem solved, turned back to Kate.

‘Then would you like me to stay a while?’

‘I’ll be with her, miss. Probably all night. Don’t worry.’

‘They sent Richard to the police station,’ Kate said.

‘Mr Mowbray?’ Lana’s tone sharpened. ‘How does he come into this?’

‘I met him. He came back with me.’

The policewoman interrupted. ‘If you don’t mind, miss, your driver’s waiting and I think Mrs Romilly should go and sit down.’

Kate said, ‘Did Josh wake?’

Lana shook her head.

‘Thank you for coming, Lana.’

The staircase had never seemed so long. Kate allowed herself to be helped up, her dripping coat finally removed, and settled by the hastily lit gas fire. Vaguely she was aware of movements behind her as the young woman made tea, but exhaustion was heavy on her eyelids. She hadn’t slept well the previous night. Perhaps they’d let her sleep before she had to answer any more questions.

Her last conscious thought was that she hadn’t collected the poetry book after all.

CHAPTER 17

She was a pretty little thing, Mrs Romilly. Webb couldn’t imagine what she was doing here, with Michael presumably still in Shillingham. Another marriage breaking up? He sighed.

‘Now, Mrs Romilly,’ he began, disguising his weariness, ‘let’s go through it again, shall we? And this time Sergeant Jackson here will write it all down.’

She seemed a little calmer now, in her own surroundings. If chance allowed, he always preferred to conduct interviews, with suspects and witnesses alike, in their own homes rather than the police station. An inveterate absorber of atmosphere, he owed the solution of many of his cases to a supposedly relaxed half hour in someone’s home.

Webb studied the young woman opposite. Her rain-soaked hair had dried in a soft halo of curls and her huge dark-blue eyes stood out in the pallor of her face. Beside her, Mary Lucas looked indecently robust and healthy.

‘Right, now, first things first. Katherine Louise Romilly, I think you said. And would this be your permanent address?’ His tone was bland but he watched her closely and caught the faint flush.

‘I’m not sure.’ Her voice was very low.

‘Then we’d better have the other one too.’

‘Treetops, Lethbridge Drive, Shillingham.’

The routine questions of date and place of birth she answered promptly, but a return of tension was apparent when he reverted to more pertinent matters.

‘Can you tell me, Mrs Romilly, how well you knew the deceased?’

‘Hardly at all, really. I did go to dinner once, with some friends.’

Dates and names were duly noted by the unobtrusive sergeant at the table.

‘And when did you last see her alive?’

Kate looked confused. ‘That was probably the last time.’ In the kitchen, her head close to Paul’s. Paul!

‘Yes, Mrs Romilly? You’ve remembered something?’

‘No.’ She moistened her lips. ‘I’m sure that was the last time.’

‘But you’ve seen her husband since?’

‘Only this evening, at school.’

‘Tell me again about the book you went to collect.’

Was he trying to trip her up? Kate wondered in a panic. She recalled hearing somewhere that people who found bodies were sometimes suspected themselves. But he couldn’t think—

Stumblingly she went through it all again: Henry’s promise to lend her the book, her reluctance to stop off because of the rain. Again, some slight inflection must have betrayed her.

‘That was your only reason for not wanting to call?’

‘I — well, yes. Except that I was in a hurry to get home and relieve Miss Truscott.’

‘But there was no urgency about that, was there? There was more than an hour before Miss Truscott’s bus was due. If you’d wanted, you even had time for a coffee with Mrs Dane.’

‘I — didn’t know her very well.’

‘Or like her very much?’ probed the Chief Inspector astutely.

Kate caught her breath. ‘She was always very pleasant to me.’

‘What were the other occasions on which you’d met her?’

‘At Mrs Netherby’s one afternoon. That was the first time.’

‘And?’

‘She came to the shop once or twice.’

‘Didn’t she also attend your art exhibition?’

‘Oh yes, the private view. I’d forgotten that.’

It had been a surprise to Webb to realize who the deceased was. A frequenter of art galleries in his spare moments, he had seen and admired examples of her work. No doubt, he thought sardonically, their prices would now rocket.

‘And at the time of her death you were at St Benedict’s School?’

Kate said very carefully, ‘I don’t know the time of her death.’

‘A preliminary estimate gives it as between eight and eight-thirty this evening.’

‘Then I was at the school, yes.’

‘And that can be verified?’

She showed a brief flair of spirit. ‘Certainly, by about six different masters. I didn’t have any gaps between appointments.’

And so it went on in minute, to Kate obsessive, detail. She had one moment of panic; Webb asked if she knew of anyone visiting Sylvia recently. She could not, positively not, implicate Paul.

‘You’ll be interviewing all her friends, surely, everyone who knew her?’

‘Of course, but any help you can give us—’

‘I’m afraid I can’t, not on that point.’ She waited, not breathing, for him to probe further, but though Webb noticed her tension he let it go.

The telephone shrilled, making them all jump. Sergeant Jackson reached out and lifted it, then looked at Webb.

‘Mr Romilly, sir. He wants to speak to his wife.’

Kate didn’t wait for Webb’s nod. She said, ‘Michael!’ on an indrawn breath and ran to the phone.

‘Kate? My God, are you all right? What in heaven’s name happened?’

Her eyes swam with tears and she closed them, tipping the large drops down her cheeks. ‘Oh, Michael,’ she whispered.

‘Shall I come straight down? I could be there in forty minutes.’

A picture of Jill floated across Kate’s mind and she steadied herself. ‘No, I’m all right. The police are here.’ He’d know that, of course. She added in a rush, ‘But if you could come tomorrow—’

‘Will someone stay overnight?’

‘I think so, yes.’

‘Right. I’ll be there first thing. Try to get some sleep, darling.’

Sergeant Jackson took the phone from her. The endearment was automatic, she was thinking. He probably didn’t realize he’d said it. Thankfully she saw the Chief Inspector was on his feet.

‘Right, Mrs Romilly, we’ll leave you now to get some sleep. Miss Lucas will stay with you. She’ll be quite comfortable on the sofa if you can spare a blanket.’

Kate looked helplessly about her. ‘There must be one somewhere.’

Webb nodded to Jackson and the two men took their leave. Mary Lucas regarded Kate sympathetically. ‘Did the doctor give you something to help you sleep?’

‘Yes. It’s here.’ Kate fumbled in her handbag and produced a small white envelope containing a couple of tablets. ‘I’d better take them now.’

She moved as though she were asleep already, the policewoman thought as Kate went to the kitchen. The tea caddy had been put back on the wrong shelf and she mechanically replaced it.

‘Your little boy’s a sound sleeper,’ Mary said with a smile as she accompanied Kate upstairs in search of a blanket. Together they peeped into Josh’s room. The child lay on his back, arms flung above his head, quilt on the floor. Kate went in softly and replaced it, her hand hovering above his forehead as though, Mary thought, longing to touch him but afraid of waking him. Pity the husband wasn’t here when the poor woman needed him.

The necessary blanket having been located, Mary retreated. Kate was alone for the first time since she had come hurtling out of the Danes’ house three long hours before. Fumblingly, she started to undress.

***

The Minster clock was chiming a quarter to nine as Michael leant on the bell. Through the glass he watched a rosy-cheeked young woman come towards him. She turned the key, bent to slide back the bolt while Michael waited impatiently.

‘Where’s my wife?’ he demanded as she opened the door.

‘I’ve just woken her with a cup of tea.’

‘Daddy!’

Josh came flying down the stairs and flung his arms round his father’s waist. Michael could feel the child trembling and was filled with a helpless, protective fury.

‘Mrs Dane’s been hurt,’ Josh said against Michael’s jacket, ‘and Miss Lucas is really a policewoman. She’s been looking after Mummy.’

‘Yes, old lad, I know.’

The policewoman gently disengaged Josh. ‘Come along, dear, it’s time for school and your auntie will be waiting.’

Josh seemed disinclined to let Michael go. ‘Will you be here when I get back?’ he asked, looking up under the soft fall of hair.

God, what were they doing to him, he and Kate? ‘Yes, Josh, I’ll be here. I promise.’

He went up the stairs two at a time, swung round at the top of the first flight and started up the second. Kate, wrapping her dressing gown round her, was standing on the landing.

‘I heard the bell.’

He had intended to take her straight in his arms, but something in her stance made him hesitate. She added formally, ‘Thanks for coming, Michael.’

‘I wanted to come last night.’ Hell, she might misinterpret that too. He went on quickly, ‘Come down and let’s talk before that girl gets back. I don’t understand how you came to find the body. Was the woman a friend of yours?’

‘No, I hardly knew her.’ Michael took her arm as they started back to the first floor and felt it shake under his hand. Remembering the Chief Inspector’s question, she added more honestly than before, ‘I didn’t even like her very much. Somehow that makes it worse.’

‘Tell me what happened.’

They sat at the kitchen table. Mary Lucas had left coffee on a low light and they drank it slowly while Kate again went through the story. She was just finishing when Richard’s voice came from below.

‘Kate? May I come up?’

Without waiting for a reply he started up the stairs. Michael’s mouth tightened and he rose to his feet, moving round the counter into the living room as the other man reached the top of the stairs.

‘Oh!’ Richard said flatly, ‘You’re here.’

‘As you see. Can I help you?’

‘I came to see how Kate is.’ He glanced towards the kitchen but Michael stood his ground.

‘She’s all right. I’m looking after her.’

‘Well, that makes a change!’

‘Oh, please!’ Kate hurried to join them. ‘Don’t start arguing. Richard, there’s some coffee—’

‘I think not,’ Michael interrupted. ‘Go and get dressed, Kate. Mowbray’s just going.’

‘I shall go,’ Richard said belligerently, ‘if and when Kate asks me. She was glad enough of my support last night.’

‘I’ve been hearing about that. Quite a coincidence you were on the doorstep, when you’re staying the other side of town.’

Richard’s voice rose angrily. ‘You can be damn grateful I
was
there. Your wife was in a state of collapse when I found her.’

‘Yes, Michael,’ Kate put in, peaceably she hoped, ‘he was a great help, really. I don’t know what I’d have done without him.’

‘I see. Then it looks as though I needn’t have broken my neck to get here after all.’

Richard snorted. ‘Don’t give us that. You came for the story, not to hold Kate’s hand!’

‘Of all the damned—’

‘Hey — what is this? World War Three?’ Martin had appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘You two can be heard all over the building and I’d remind you that, despite everything, we
are
open for business. Lana’s off her nut down there in case someone comes in and hears you.’

Michael said shortly, ‘I was proposing to take you to sign your statement, Kate, but you’re obviously not short of escorts. I promised Josh I’d see him after school so I’ll be back at four.’

And without a glance at the other men, he ran down the stairs.

There was a minute’s silence, then Richard said quietly, ‘I’m sorry, Kate. I shouldn’t have let him rile me. Are you up to work today?’

‘Yes, I don’t want to be alone.’

‘Come down when you’re ready, then.’ He turned to the stairs and Martin, catching Kate’s troubled eyes, gave a little shrug and grimace as he followed him. Almost at once, the telephone rang.

‘Kate?’ It was Madge’s shaking voice. ‘I’ve only just heard. I didn’t know a thing till that policewoman arrived with Josh. I can’t believe it!’

‘I know.’

‘What time did you get there last night?’

Kate thought back to the glance at her watch in the wet porch. ‘Half past nine. Henry asked me to collect that poetry book on the way home.’

‘I must have been just ahead of you. I got in as the news was finishing. Kate, I might have passed the murderer!’

‘They think she was killed between eight and half past.’

‘It’s so incredible. Poor, poor Sylvia!’

Kate closed her eyes, remembering the lamplight, the woman in the chair, the obscenely hovering fly.

‘You do remember, don’t you,’ Madge was saying, ‘that half term starts today? The school closes at lunchtime.’

‘I’d completely forgotten!’ Frantically Kate wondered how she could cope with Josh while her own movements were so uncertain. There’d be more visits to the police and she’d have to attend the inquest.

‘I’ll bring him back here,’ Madge said. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘Madge’ — Kate’s grip tightened on the phone — ‘how — how’s Paul?’

‘He was a lot better first thing, but this Sylvia business has knocked him for six. We were wondering if there’s anything we could do for Henry.’

They talked for a few minutes more, then rang off. Immediately the phone went again.