Carol had a sudden thought. “Has Kenneth Raeburn been talking to you?” She didn’t need his reply, his expression was enough. “And is Mr. Raeburn insisting that I find his son’s death was an accident?”
“He believes it was.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sykes.”
He didn’t accept her dismissal. “Inspector Ashton, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to tell you how to do your job…”
“No?” said Carol caustically. “Then just what are you trying to do?”
She expected the phone call from Kenneth Raeburn. “Inspector Ashton, I’d like to see you.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Raeburn, but I’m on a very tight schedule. Could we discuss it on the phone?”
“Not really.”
You bastard. You think there’s a chance this call might be recorded. “Could you give me some indication?”
“I’m concerned about your investigation, Inspector. It’s ten days since my son’s body was discovered and you seem no closer to establishing that it was an accident. As you know, the funeral is in two days, there’ll be a great deal of publicity, and people will want answers.”
“I’m afraid an investigation doesn’t run to a set agenda, so it’s impossible to predict exactly when it will end.”
“I insist on seeing you tomorrow. It won’t be necessary for me to take this higher, will it, Inspector?”
Carol controlled her anger, ignored his last question and made a time to see him.
She sat frowning after the call. Was there any point in going to the Commissioner?
“To hell with it!” she said, startling Anne, who had paused in the doorway. “Yes, Anne?”
“Simon Sykes gave me this media release for you to vet. He didn’t want to see you himself, just asked if you’d glance at it and make any changes.”
Carol smiled cynically. “You know,” she said, “I think Simon Sykes might be just a little scared of me.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When Carol got up early the next morning, David, in rumpled pajamas, was already in the kitchen. “Mum, can I stay with you and Auntie Sarah for the rest of the week?”
“Darling, I’m on a case, so I may not see that much of you.” Expecting his pout, she smiled when it appeared. “All right, I’ll ask your father. He’s back tonight and Eleanor was going to pick you up tomorrow, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Can I come on the run with you?”
She rumpled his blond hair. “If you hurry.”
David kept up with her for the first ten minutes, then began to fall behind. She slowed to a walk as they reached the bush path. “Do you run the whole way, Mum?”
“Yes, but I do it every morning, that’s why I can.”
“If I lived with you, I could do it too.”
Warmed by his words, she put an arm around his shoulders. “Aren’t you happy with your father and Eleanor?”
“Yes. But I like being with you.”
“David, I love having you here and you can come as often as you like, you know that.”
He looked up at her. “Why’s Sybil gone away?”
Say something direct, Carol. You owe him that much.
“You know how your Dad and Eleanor love each other-how they do things together, sleep in the same room…”
“Well, they’re married, Mum,” he said, making it clear this was self-evident.
“Sybil and I are like that… it’s just like we’re married.”
“Then why’s she moved out?”
“Because we’re not getting on at the moment. We’ve got some problems we’re trying to work out.”
David looked sideways at her for a long moment. Then he said, “Can we start jogging again?”
That’s enough. It’s a beginning.
“Sure,” said Carol, “but I bet you can’t keep up.”
While David was dressing for school, Carol had breakfast with Aunt Sarah, who frowned at Carol’s toast and black coffee, but managed not to give her usual lecture on health foods. Carol defiantly poured herself a second cup of coffee, ignoring her aunt’s muttered comment. “I said something on the run this morning about Sybil and me. If David asks you any questions, please answer them.”
“He won’t, Carol. David must have picked up something from Justin’s casual remarks or assumptions made about you and Sybil being together… that sort of thing. Now you’ve given David a bit more to think about. He’ll fit it all together, and when he’s ready, he’ll ask you what he wants to know.”
“I may not have the luxury of waiting-Kenneth Raeburn’s leaning on me.”
“What about the calls on your answering machine?”
“I know who made those,” she said with dour satisfaction. “But that’s not necessarily much help.”
Aunt Sarah patted her hand. “If you’re outed, you’re outed,” she said. “And there’s probably nothing you can do about it.”
Carol wanted the relief of losing her temper, breaking something, screaming her rage. Instead she said calmly, “Except to find that Collis Raeburn’s death was an accident. That would take the heat off.”
“At least you’ve got a choice.”
“You know, my dear Aunt, that I haven’t.”
“Tsk,” said Aunt Sarah. “Principles are such a curse.”
Kenneth Raeburn had insisted that they meet outside her office. “I’m staying at the Park Royal. It’d be more convenient if we met in the foyer.”
Carol was early, and had brought Anne with her. Kenneth Raeburn, chest out, standing as tall as possible, was already there. He frowned when he saw the constable. “I’m sorry. What I have to say is confidential. There can be no third party.”
Edgy and impatient, he still spoke in his usual soft half-whisper. Although his well-cut dark suit was appropriate to the hotel’s elegance, his broken nose and insolent stare seemed incongruous. “Well?” he demanded.
Carol directed Anne to wait out of earshot, then sat down with him on a plush lounge. “Why is this confidential? Constable Newsome is assisting the investigation and is quite aware of all developments.”
His gesture dismissed her comment. “I don’t want to waste time. I expect you to find that Collis died by a combination of unfortunate circumstances. It was not suicide, not murder, but an accident.”
Carol was equally terse. “You’re not in a position to dictate the results of my investigation.”
“What would it hurt you to come to this conclusion?” His voice, almost inaudible, shook with tension. “The mere suggestion of anything else will ensure that the inquest is a circus, and will destroy his memory, not to mention what it will do to Nicole.”
“I’m afraid I can’t take any of that into consideration. I’m only concerned with the truth.”
“The truth?” he sneered. “You don’t tell the truth about yourself…”
Carol wanted to hit him. She said in a controlled voice, “This has nothing to do with me personally. I’ve got a job to do, and I’m doing it.”
“It’s a matter of your arrogance, Inspector. You refuse to see his death as a sad, unnecessary accident. You want it to be murder, because that gives you so much more publicity, doesn’t it? You’re in this for your own glory, so don’t pretend to have any high ideals.”
“There’s no point in continuing this conversation.”
Raeburn nodded to himself, as though satisfied with her hostile response. “Don’t leave. You’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
“Mr. Raeburn, attempting to influence a police officer is a criminal offense.”
He laughed contemptuously. “Don’t give me that. You must know I’ll deny everything, and frankly, I don’t imagine you’re recording this. You know what I’m going to say, and you’d hardly want your colleagues to hear it.”
“There’s nothing you can say that will change my findings one way or the other.”