He replaced the phone and joined Hennessey in the dining room. ‘Well, sir, she last saw her parents on Sunday. She said goodbye to both of them and drove to London. She confirms that her brother had left the house by then.’
‘So she saw both of them. By the time she was ready to leave, her father had crawled groggily out of bed with a bad head.’
‘It would appear so, sir. She left at about three p.m. That would be their last sighting. She knows Tim Sheringham.’
‘She does?’
‘Manager of the gym. Her mum goes to work out there, makes no secret of it.’
‘She wouldn’t if she was having an affair with the manager. Especially if said manager was younger than her son.’
‘Aye, happen. She knows of no enemies that her parents might have. And she’s given me her home and office phone number.’
‘No known enemies.’ Hennessey pondered. He picked up a statement of the Williamses’ current account. ‘Right at the limit of his credit and he’d be a rich man going by this statement were it not for the little “o/d” after the last figure. So money, as we’ve said, wasn’t the motive. So it’s got to be passion, negative passion, but passion nonetheless. And look at all these unpaid bills; I mean, how can someone get into this sort of debt and still take his family for a meal at the Mill?’
‘Beats me, boss.’
‘The sort of man for whom appearance is everything, that’s who, Yellich. But you know, I don’t know him, I don’t know this man.’
‘Williams?’
‘Yes, Williams. I don’t know him. You see, on the one hand he has this apparently repressive attitude to his house, which is quite cramped, everything-in-its-place exactitude. You’d think that was a man with his feet on the ground. Then, on the other hand, there’s the Williams who’s a fantasist, who’s got this level of debt yet is treating his family to a meal with the most expensive wine in the best restaurant in the Vale of York, a man who is blissfully unconcerned about debt, the amount of which would have you and me on the point of suicidal despair. Those two personalities just don’t go together. Not in my mind, anyway.’
‘Well, you know what they say, sir?’
‘No, what do they say?’
‘There’s nowt so queer as folk.’
‘That’s a gem of Yorkshire wisdom, is it?’
‘Aye, well, they do say that.’ Yellich felt a little uncomfortable.
‘I mean, folk do such daft things that there’s often no other explanation. It’s like when you think you know someone and…’
‘Yes. Thank you, Yellich, we’ll save the homespun philosophy. I want to meet Tim Sheringham.’
Tim Sheringham revealed himself to be a well-built, muscular man whom both Hennessey and Yellich felt had a natural dislike for the police. He also appeared guarded, cautious, guilty. He sat in a cramped office, the window of which looked out onto a well-attended mixed gym of powerfully built men and svelte women in gaily-coloured gym strips. The rock tune ‘Simply the best, Better than all the rest’ pumped out of loudspeakers as the gym attendees pumped iron. Hennessey mused that often, before you can get people to do things you appeal to their vanity, and beyond Sheringham’s office were about twenty people all at that point, putting a little extra effort in because they wanted to believe that they were simply the best, better than all the rest.
‘Yeah,’ Sheringham said, clean-shaven, crew-cutted, ‘I knew her, so what?’ He further revealed himself to speak in a curious blend of British English and American English, often, Hennessey believed, to be referred to as mid-Atlantic. Basically in this case it was British English with a smattering of American English words and turns of phrase and inflections.
He had either lived for a while in the States or steeped himself in American films. Hennessey felt the latter; in his eyes Sheringham didn’t look at all worldly wise.
‘She’s missing.’
Tim Sheringham paled.
‘Hey, I haven’t done anything.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’
‘Nothing to worry about then, have you? When did you last see Mrs Williams?’
‘Last week. Last Wednesday.’
‘We understand you often see her on Wednesdays?’
‘Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.’
‘Maybe you’d just better tell us what you know.’
‘About what? I’ve done nothing.’
‘So you said. You’re having an affair with Mrs Williams?’
‘Look.’ Sheringham hunched his shoulders. ‘Just keep your voice down, will you?’
‘Why? You bothered someone will hear?’
‘Yes. I’m married. Mr Williams had some kind of golf club committee meeting on a Wednesday. So I went to her house on Wednesdays. We had to be discreet, he was a bit jealous.’
‘Had. Went. Had. Was.’
‘Sorry?’
‘All past tense.’
‘Yes.’
‘As if he is deceased. And as if you know he’s deceased.’
‘Clever. But wrong. I broke it off with her. Last Wednesday I told her it was over. I’m married. It was fun, then it wasn’t.’
‘I see. Why did you start in the first place?’
‘Mutual attraction.’
‘Not many men in their twenties would find women in their mid-fifties attractive.’
‘Nowt so queer as folk.’
‘Funny you should say that, Mr Sheringham.’
‘Oh?’
‘Nothing. So how did it come about?’
‘Because I’m physical. I’m very, very physical. For physical people the flesh is often very, very willing and the spirit is very, very weak. Yes, she was older than me, more than thirty years older. I was younger than her son…but I like cross-generational relationships. I get a thrill out of them. So did she.’
‘Cross-generational relationships?’
‘That’s the term. You know, people who seek partners of different age groups, toy boys for the women, sugar mummies for the boys. I like it. She liked it. This is between you and me?’
‘Of course.’
‘I mean, if my wife were to find out…’
‘She’d not be happy.’
‘That would only be the beginning of it. Can’t tell you what she’d do to me if she found out about me and Amanda. That’s why I broke it off…the flesh was still willing, the spirit was still weak, but I got frightened of Vanessa.’
‘Your wife?’
‘Aye.’
‘Where did you meet Mrs Williams?’
‘Here in the gym.’
‘How long ago.’
‘About two years.’
‘Long time ago, really.’
‘Long enough. It was good for both of us. Like all affairs, it was better in the beginning, by last week all the fun had gone. It wasn’t going anywhere and Vanessa ‘You’re frightened of your wife, you say?’
‘What she can do. She could finish me. In the end the risk wasn’t worth it. I mean, you’d be frightened of your wife finding out if your wife could do to you what my wife can do to me.’
‘I’m not married.’
Sheringham sneered.
‘Out of choice,’ Hennessey said coldly.
‘Of course.’ Sheringham curled his lip. ‘You’ve got to say that.’
‘So how long have you been married?’
‘About twelve months.’
‘Twelve months!’
‘That’s what I said.’ Sheringham looked pleased with himself.
‘So you were having an affair throughout your engagement to your wife and for the first year of your marriage?’
‘Yes,’ Sheringham said smugly. ‘Anything wrong with that? In fact, I met Amanda Williams before I met Vanessa. I ran them in parallel for about eighteen months.’
‘In parallel. Is that how you see it?’
That’s just the way of it. A lot of women come in here to get in shape. I help them. I take them round the circuit. I take an interest in our clients.’
‘Our?’
‘My wife and I are partners in the gym.’
‘Some you get to know better than others?’
Sheringham shrugged. ‘Amanda had problems at home, her children were up and away, her husband drank like a fish…not giving her the attention a woman needs…she was in her fifties.’