Close to Death

There had been many changes made to the house since the time of the murder. I had written about abstract art, pale carpets and a neatness that was almost oppressive. The artwork had been replaced by original posters in frames – mainly French films by Truffaut and Tati. The carpets were modern and bright (the one in the hall would have had to have been replaced, for obvious reasons) and everywhere I looked I saw evidence of a carefree family life: trainers left by the stairs, jerseys hanging off the bannisters, a basket of laundry on a chair, the dreaded skateboards leaning against the wall by the front door.

‘Are Hugo and Tristram at Eton?’ I asked her.

She laughed. ‘No. Hugo didn’t want to go there, and anyway, it suited me to put them both in the local comprehensive. For someone who spent his whole life dealing with money, Giles left his affairs in a terrible mess and I wasn’t even sure I had enough in the bank to get them through private education. They’re much happier growing up with normal kids. I didn’t want them ending up like their dad.’

That surprised me. I thought she’d adored him.

We were sitting at the far end of the kitchen, which had a conservatory area looking out over the garden. Just round the corner, I could see the famous magnolia tree that Adam Strauss had planted and which Giles had intended to cut down. The blossoms had faded as autumn drew in, but there were still a few hints of dark red and white, memories of its summer glory. I asked her about the swimming pool.

‘I couldn’t afford it now if I wanted it,’ she told me. ‘But to be honest with you, I was never that keen. That was another of Giles’s ideas. I like the garden the way it is and looking at the magnolia. Who would want to lose that? I’ll miss it when we go.’

‘I see you’ve taken down the Union Jack.’

‘That came down even before the funeral,’ she replied with a sniff of laughter. ‘I hated it. Giles was always banging on about politics, Brexit . . . that’s why he had the flag.’

I wanted to ask her if he had been a racist but couldn’t find a polite way of putting it. So instead I said: ‘Have you found a buyer for the house yet?’

‘Are you interested?’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t think so.’

She nodded sadly. ‘Even after everything that happened, I’d still like to stay. The boys like it and they’ve got lots of friends in the area. But the house is far too big for the three of us. We had to let Jasmine go. We just have a daily now. She comes in twice a week and she’s not here until tomorrow, so apologies for the mess. It turns out that Giles wasn’t quite as clever with the finances as he thought he was. The banks wrote to me after he died and it was all just one debt after another. He’d even sold his life insurance . . . the prat. He never told me that and it came as quite a shock. I’ll still be all right. This place is on the market for four million and there’s no mortgage or anything. I sold all the art and my jewellery. I don’t need it now.’

‘How do you feel about what happened here?’ I asked her.

‘Well, I’m not overjoyed, if that’s what you mean. You don’t mind if I smoke?’ She reached for a packet of cigarettes and lit one. ‘I did love Giles . . . when we first met. It was a dream, the sort of thing you read about in a book. Not one of yours. You don’t do romance, do you?’

‘I haven’t yet.’

‘I was cabin crew. He was travelling first class. He invited me out and I knew from the very start that we were kindred spirits. We were made for each other. Things only started going wrong when we moved here.’

‘The neighbours, you mean . . .’

‘Not really. They weren’t such a bad lot. I mean, Adam Strauss never really forgave us for moving into his precious home. He didn’t like the fact that we’d taken his place as lord of the manor. And there were all those stupid rows with Dr Beresford . . .’

‘Why did you keep blocking the driveway?’

‘We had to put the cars somewhere! And he only had access. The right of way belonged to us.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t know why I’m still discussing it. Talk about mountains and molehills! We’ve never had a single complaint from the Hossains, and their cats are no trouble either.’

‘Do you like your new neighbours?’

‘They’re fine. There’s nothing special about Riverview Close, you know. I’d say there isn’t a street in England where the neighbours don’t have disputes. I was brought up in Frinton and it was just the same.’

‘People don’t usually get killed.’

‘I think Roderick Browne was ill. He was so worried and upset about his wife, and he was a pervert too . . . Sometimes I saw him staring into my bedroom window. He had a view from his second floor. I made a point of always getting changed for bed round the back.’

‘You’re certain he was the one who murdered your husband?’

‘Detective Superintendent Khan had no doubt at all. I’ve spoken to him a few times since then. He’s a very nice man. He gave me his card and he said I could call him any time I wanted.’

That was something I hadn’t considered. ‘Could you give me his number?’ I asked.