‘What, just hours after his daughter-in-law was found hanged? And today is a Sunday, unless I’m much mistaken.’
‘Sam doesn’t take any notice of weekends, he’s a very busy man, and he is the mayor, you know,’ responded Mrs Ferguson defensively. ‘This is all most difficult for him. He said he’d come home as soon as he could.’
What a family this is, thought Vogel.
‘Right, Mrs Ferguson, while you are upstairs I want you to phone your husband and tell him to get back here straight away,’ he ordered.
Again, Amelia Ferguson looked as if she might be able to argue. Ultimately, she seemed to think better of it, and left the room.
Eight
Within just a few minutes Felix Ferguson joined Vogel and Saslow in the sitting room. He was wearing a black velveteen dressing gown and apparently little else. Certainly a considerable expanse of bare chest was exposed where the gown gaped open to the waist in a wide V, and his lower legs, protruding from beneath the knee-length garment, were also bare.
Vogel and Saslow stood up as he entered the sitting room. Felix walked straight up to them both, albeit with a somewhat uncertain gait, and offered his hand in greeting.
He definitely had the dishevelled look of someone who had just been woken from a deep sleep. He seemed not to be functioning properly, although there may have been more than one reason for that. His wavy blonde hair was tousled. He was unshaven.
Nonetheless Felix Ferguson was very nearly an extremely handsome man, albeit let down by a weak fleshy mouth and one eye which failed to precisely line up with the other.
This made it difficult to ascertain exactly where he was looking, which Vogel found mildly unnerving.
The DCI was intrigued. If he had just lost his wife, particularly in such dreadful circumstances, he couldn’t imagine that he would ever be able to sleep properly again, let alone immediately afterwards.
On the other hand, of course, Felix Ferguson may have taken sleeping pills or some kind of sedative. Vogel studied the other man carefully.
Those unnerving eyes were bleary and red rimmed. Maybe he had shed a tear or two. If so it was possible that he at least had a little more heart than his mother had displayed so far.
‘Uh, I’m sorry I didn’t come down before,’ said Felix, clearly trying to stifle a yawn and not entirely succeeding. ‘I didn’t know you were here.’
‘That’s quite all right, Mr Ferguson,’ said Vogel, once he’d formally introduced himself and Saslow. ‘I am sure you needed to rest.’
Vogel’s tone was neutral, but a certain underlying criticism, or at least curiosity, had been intended. In spite of his dopey appearance, Felix Ferguson seemed to pick up on this.
‘Uh, yes, well, my mother thought so, anyway,’ he said. ‘Made me take a sleeping pill.’
He shook his head as if trying to clear it. At that moment his mother returned.
‘I’ve called Sam, Mr Vogel—’ she began.
Felix interrupted her, sounding angry.
‘For God’s sake, Mum, what the heck was that pill you gave me?’ he enquired loudly. ‘I went out like a light, and I still can’t wake myself up properly.’
‘Oh, nothing out of the ordinary. Just a zolpidem. But, of course, you had been drinking, dear... ’
‘For God’s sake,’ said Felix again.
He glanced at his watch.
‘I can’t believe the time.’ He paused. ‘Where are the children?’ There was suddenly a note of panic in his voice. ‘Mum, where are the twins?’
‘They’re upstairs, playing in their room.’
‘I don’t believe it, Mum. You’ve left them up there? On their own? Today?’
Felix began to move towards the door, presumably intending to go to his children.
Vogel interceded at once.
‘Mr Ferguson, I really need to talk to you right now,’ he said. ‘Perhaps your mother could go up to your children.’
Felix stopped in his tracks.
‘All right. Yes, of course. Mum, go up to them, will you? And don’t leave them again. Just call me. How could you leave them alone? Think what they must be going through.’
‘I didn’t think, dear,’ said Mrs Ferguson senior apologetically. ‘I’m so sorry. Of course. I’ll go at once. I’ll look after them. Don’t you worry.’
She half ran from the room, almost embarrassingly eager to please. Vogel had seen this before, both in men and in women. A person who was strong and dominating with everyone in their life except just one person. Usually someone they hero-worshipped. It seemed clear that her much-adored son was Amelia Ferguson’s weak spot. Indeed, she had already indicated that in the way she’d talked to Vogel about him.
Felix sat down again and addressed the detective chief inspector.
‘You’ll have to excuse me, I can’t get my head around anything right now,’ he said. ‘And that bloody pill of Mother’s hasn’t helped. Still, I suppose she meant well.’
‘I’m sure she did,’ responded Vogel, who supposed much the same thing about Amelia Ferguson in this instance, at least in regard to her son’s welfare, if nothing else.
‘So, I understand you have some questions for me?’ Felix continued. ‘I’m not sure that I’ll be able to help you much. I wasn’t even there when Jane... Jane... ’
Felix Ferguson stumbled to a halt. He seemed quite unable to get the words out. And, like his mother, he was obviously under the initial impression that nobody believed his wife’s death to be anything other than suicide.
‘I realize that, sir, and I know this must be a very difficult time for you,’ said Vogel. ‘I would also like to say how sorry we both are for your loss—’
Felix interrupted, almost as if he hadn’t heard, or certainly not taken in what Vogel was saying.
‘It’s the twins, you see, they’re only six, seeing their mother like that. They told me it was little Jo who found Jane first. It’s just too much. I don’t know what to say to them. I really can’t bear it... ’
And then Felix began to cry, tears started to roll down his cheeks, his shoulders heaved. Soon his whole body was wracked with sobs.
Vogel looked at Saslow. Saslow looked at Vogel. At least it seemed apparent that Felix had a heart, which remained questionable in his mother’s case. Either that or he deserved an Oscar, thought Vogel. But Felix’s grief appeared genuine enough, and Vogel would never criticize anyone for showing their emotions when they’d lost a loved one, particularly in circumstances like these. However, in his time he had seen many parents battling to cope with tragedy, even the death of a child, while somehow or other managing, on the surface at least, to hold themselves together for the sake of any siblings of that child.
He couldn’t help questioning what use the weak-mouthed Felix Ferguson was likely to be to his traumatized children in this state. Maybe his mother had not been entirely wrong to keep him out of the way for a bit.
The two police officers waited in mildly embarrassed silence until Felix’s sobbing finally abated.
He took a handful of paper tissues from his dressing-gown pocket and blew his nose loudly.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I suppose I’m in shock. I don’t seem able to control myself. I keep breaking down.’
He glanced at Vogel, or at least Vogel thought he was glancing at him, in a manner that suggested he was hoping for sympathy and reassurance. Like a little boy. The little boy he once was, who, Vogel thought, still formed a big part of his character. The DCI was not interested. He just wanted to get on with the job in hand.
‘Firstly, I would like to ask you to go through with me your movements yesterday evening and through the night, if you will, Mr Ferguson,’ he instructed, almost as if the man’s sobbing fit had not even taken place. ‘When you last saw your wife alive, where you were when she died, and so on.’