‘Did you talk to Don about it?’
‘No,’ she said.
‘You failed to mention it to us,’ Richard said.
Norma shook her head, ‘It didn’t mean anything.’
‘Has it happened before?’ Janine said.
‘Probably,’ Norma sounded tired. ‘I don’t ask.’
‘You must have suspected that Neil Langan was behind the damage to the car.’ There was an edge of disbelief in Richard’s tone, ‘possibly involved in your husband’s death, and you still said nothing.’
Norma let her hands fall into her lap. ‘When they told me he was dead, I just couldn’t think,’ she said. Then something occurred to her and she straightened up, frowning, and said, ‘Mr Langan – he didn’t do it, did he? Surely not?’ Sounding innocent herself, Janine thought, or was she outwitting them?
‘No,’ Richard said.
‘Is there anything else you haven’t told us about, Mrs Halliwell?’ Janine said.
‘No.’
‘Where were you between six and seven on Tuesday evening?’
Norma Halliwell stared at her, pain lancing through her eyes, then gave a hollow laugh, incredulous. ‘Here. I was teaching.’
‘We could verify that?’ Richard said.
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘When did you last see your husband?’ Janine said.
‘When he left for work on Tuesday,’ Norma said.
Wearily Norma Halliwell provided them with the two phone numbers for the pupils who had come for lessons on Tuesday evening, one at six and one at half past.
Out in the car, Richard made the calls and got confirmation from the parents involved.
Chapter 37
They never knew what had happened to the baby after the midwife had wrapped her in the sheet and left the room. The post-mortem, of course, a futile attempt to find a reason for the death but after that? Burial in some common grave, disposal like so much medical waste? In recent years, other couples affected like them had searched for their lost children, named them, had services and created memorials. The modern view was that acknowledging the life lost was a healthy response. But it held no sway with Don when she raised it, he regarded it as an indulgence at best and opening wounds at worst. She let it be.
They would never have another child. She hadn’t realized at first, couples were advised to avoid pregnancy too soon, so when she had clambered out of the pit and they began making love again she had gone on the pill, a new version. As the months went by her mother began to drop hints. ‘Don’t leave it too long,’ she said, ‘if you’re worried about the risks-’
‘I know the risks,’ Norma had said, ‘we just want to be more settled, it’s a hard year for Don.’
Don told her if they wanted to try again, she’d have to stop the medication, it would harm the baby. Even the thought of that, going a day without it, let alone nine whole months, made her feel panicky, a fluttering feeling in her chest, her mouth dry and her face hot.
‘Not yet,’ she said, ‘I’m not ready.’
Thankfully, Don didn’t seem desperate to have children unlike some men who wanted to make sure the family line continued. They discussed it on occasion back then, it was always Don who raised the issue. And then one time, just after he’d started his own practice, she had said, in response to his asking if she’d thought any more about babies, that she was happy as they were, just the two of them; that she didn’t think she could ever face another pregnancy after what happened. She’d taken a steadying breath, saying, ‘If a family is important to you then maybe we should think about separation.’
‘Norma,’ he said, looking exasperated and her stomach turned over. Then his expression softened. ‘You idiot. It’s you I want, first and foremost. That’s what matters most. The family, well…’ he shrugged, ‘… it might be nice but… I wouldn’t be the one dealing with it all and… it’s just not that important.’
‘You’re sure?’ She had stared at him.
‘Yes,’ he said.
She was so grateful. She ran the house and began to teach piano and went to parties with Don’s friends from work. In time as their friends had children, the friendships weakened and withered. They didn’t really need other people.
I was hiding, Norma thought, I’ve been hiding my whole life. Don had his work, his patients, his colleagues, his mistresses. And I had Don. Like Sleeping Beauty. But Norma’s prince had not woken her with a kiss, he pricked her with a needle, kept her drugged and docile and safe. Oh, yes, he tried to wean her off, now and again, but she felt that was to protect himself as much as anything. If it ever came out, he’d be disbarred.
The thought of relief brought saliva into her mouth, a lifting of the fear that gripped the back of her neck. But what about tomorrow, a voice in her head murmured. And the next day and the next? How long can you go on?
It was over. Don knew that, that was probably why he was still here, whispering her name, waiting in the corners where the shadows fell. He knew what was best. Always had. She was tired of hiding, exhausted by the fear of the future. Yes, she might last another three days but then what? The pit waiting to suck her back in. Or hospitalisation?
Outside, the aspens sighed in the wind and the house creaked in reply.
There was nothing else to do. No one to tell. Norma climbed upstairs and got things ready. She lay on the bed, let out a sigh.
‘Norma,’ he said.
‘I know,’ she answered, ‘I’m coming.’
She tried to think about the happy times, that first coffee with him, their honeymoon in Edinburgh, the happiness of easy routine and affection and comfort, of restyling the house and pouring her love into it. Don never left the house without kissing her goodbye. The wind blew again, stronger, so she felt the house shaking. Was that possible?
‘Norma.’
She couldn’t wait any longer. It was time to go.
Chapter 38
The case kept shifting shape, Janine thought, every time they believed a line of inquiry was gaining legs, something would come along and kick them away, leaving them winded.
First they had the prospect of a robbery turned violent, then all the merry dance that Fraser McKee took them on, the hunt for a patient with a grudge, then Halliwell re-cast as a drug dealer, next the prospect of a crime of passion. And now, she thought, where are we now? What was solid?
‘With Langan and Mrs Halliwell out of the picture where do we go?’ she said to Richard as they drove towards the police station.
‘Aaron Matthews is all we’ve got,’ Richard said.
Janine rang Butchers. ‘We’ve hit a brick wall with the jealous spouse angle,’ she said.
‘Maybe not,’ Butchers said. ‘Halliwell called at Roy Gant’s at two o’clock but he told Gant he was going home before he went back to work. Perhaps things started going sour then.’
‘Norma’s just sworn to us that she last saw him in the morning,’ Janine said.
‘Unless Halliwell was lying to Roy Gant?’ Butchers said.
‘Why bother – why raise it at all?’ Janine said. ‘It’s more likely she’s lying to us. Again.’
Janine ended the call. ‘Halliwell told Roy Gant he was calling home,’ she said to Richard, ‘you just heard her say she last saw him that morning. Why lie about that?’
‘He comes home, she confronts him with the affair, he’s not sorry enough, he taunts her, tells her he’s leaving her maybe. She decides to punish him.’
‘But she was here when he was shot,’ Janine said.
‘She had help?’ Richard said.
‘I don’t know,’ Janine said, ‘but at the very least let’s challenge her on the last sighting.’
There was no answer when Richard rang the bell again.
‘Perhaps she hopes we’ll go away if she leaves it long enough,’ Janine said.
Richard walked down the steps and along to peer in the front room window.
‘No sign,’ he said,