‘Bit late for being careful, isn’t it?’ snapped Gerry.
‘Look, you have been dealing with this situation for a long time now, you must have realized there were certain inherent dangers—’
‘I never in my wildest imaginings thought it would end like this,’ interrupted Gerry.
‘Gerry, you made an agreement with us for which you have been and continue to be extremely well rewarded. There’s no such thing as a free lunch, you know.’
‘Jesus,’ growled Gerry.
‘Look, you have to keep calm. We need to debrief you. Obviously.’
‘I am calm,’ Gerry lied. ‘I can’t get up to London. Anne would never stand for it. And the police would be all over me like a rash. I’m sure they’re suspicious already... ’
‘Maybe, or you could just be panicking. But I do agree it would be unwise for you to act in any way out of character right now, and you certainly aren’t in the habit of hopping on a train to London at short notice. So, we will get someone to you.’
‘Who?’
‘Someone who can give you all the assistance you need. Someone who will do your thinking for you for a bit, and ensure that you and your wife are kept safe. How does that sound?’
It sounded good, of course. Only he wasn’t sure he believed a word of it. He’d just had his sixty-fifth birthday. He was in reasonable health, able to enjoy life, his occasional games of golf, his even more occasional estuary forays on his boat, and so on. On that particular day he felt about 105.
‘I’m too old for all this, Martha,’ he said.
‘You weren’t too old for it when it wasn’t causing you any trouble,’ Martha reminded him.
‘Murder is a step too far,’ said Gerry, only vaguely aware that he had said something rather ridiculous. ‘One huge step too far. To be perfectly honest, Martha, I didn’t know today whether to call you or just to go to the police and tell them everything I know.’
‘Well, I’m very glad you decided to call me, Gerry,’ responded Martha. ‘That was definitely your best option. Now, you will get another call. Tonight. It will be from someone who will make an arrangement to meet you, and allow you to go back to your retirement. Full time.’
‘That’s what I want, Martha. I can’t do this anymore.’
‘You won’t have to.’ There was a pause. ‘Uh, Gerry, have you told anybody else about your part in all of this? Your wife. Anyone?’
Gerry remained silent for a few seconds, trying to think on his feet. What should he tell her? It would have to be the truth, or more or less. Lying to Martha would be far too dangerous. People like her had ways of finding things out. He had little choice but to trust her. And he so wanted all this to go away, just as she was promising.
‘Only somebody who half knew already,’ he said eventually.
‘What do you mean by that? Who?’
‘I told you at the time what happened. I was confronted by Sam Ferguson, Jane’s father-in-law, when... when I was... Look, I told you. He hated his daughter-in-law. He was happy, more than happy, to overlook everything in exchange for information. Don’t you remember?’
‘Of course, I remember. So why did you feel the need to share anything more with him?’
‘He was threatening to go to the police. He said he knew people in high places and if I didn’t tell him what was going on he would destroy my life and my marriage. My “cosy little retirement”, he called it. I’m now beginning to think I should have let him go to the police.’
‘Well, you were clearly put in a difficult position. Have you any idea what he is going to do now? Is he still planning to destroy your “cosy little life”?’
‘How the hell do I know? He just stomped off huffing and puffing. But he is an important man around these parts.’
‘I’m sure he is, Gerry. Just try to stop worrying, and wait to be contacted later. Once you have been properly debriefed everything will seem clearer, I promise you.’
‘I just never thought things would turn out like this, that’s all.’
‘Quite,’ said Martha, ending the call.
Eighteen
Amelia Ferguson wasn’t so much furious as, like Anne Barham, bewildered at her husband’s behaviour. To outsiders it might have seemed that she was the dominant partner in their marriage, and that her husband, whilst successful and rather important out in the world, deferred to her in everything concerning home and family. Not a lot of people knew it, but the truth was rather different. When it came to the bigger issues in their lives, Amelia looked to her husband in everything. Sam was her rock.
He finally arrived home just after six thirty p.m., looking damp and dishevelled. His wife greeted him in the hallway, closing the door to the sitting room firmly behind her.
‘For God’s sake, what have you been doing?’ she demanded.
‘I told you,’ replied Sam curtly. ‘I needed to go to my office at the council, I had business to sort out before tomorrow.’
‘I called your direct line, several times, you didn’t answer. You weren’t there, were you? I mean, look at you. You’re wet through.’
‘It’s raining and blowing a gale, haven’t you noticed? Of course I was there. Since when did you feel the need to check up on me, anyway?’
‘Since you disappeared on the day your son’s wife died, that’s when.’
‘I’m sorry. It was unavoidable.’
Amelia noticed that he didn’t sound very sorry. In fact, he barely sounded like Sam. But she was still too angry to pay that much attention.
‘Well, now that you’re finally back perhaps you could give the remains of your family five minutes,’ she snapped. ‘Felix is in a real state. When he returned from walking the dogs he sat himself down with a bottle of whisky, and he seems to have drunk the lot. He’s slumped on the sofa in the sitting room, barely conscious. Will you see if you can get him upstairs to his bedroom to sleep it off?’
For a moment Sam looked as if he were about to protest. Ultimately, he muttered a reluctant assent.
‘Now, Sam,’ continued Amelia. ‘I want him out of the way of the children, although I get the feeling they’ve seen it all before.’
‘Where are the children?’ asked Sam.
‘They’re in the kitchen, I’ve got them playing with cake mix, and a right mess they’re making too... ’
‘Go back to them,’ instructed Sam. ‘I’ll sort Felix out. Just make sure those children are safe.’
Amelia was thoroughly puzzled.
‘What on earth are you talking about, Sam?’ she asked. ‘Safe? Of course, they’re safe.’
‘Yes, of course,’ echoed Sam. ‘I meant, well you know, you’ve left them alone in the kitchen. There are knives and things around... ’
‘Sam, you know perfectly well we redesigned our kitchen when the twins reached toddler age so that they couldn’t reach anything that might harm them.’
‘So, I do,’ said Sam, smiling a rather forced sort of smile. ‘I don’t seem able to think straight today, that’s all.’
‘Yes, well, that I can understand.’
Amelia paused at the kitchen door and looked back over her shoulder.
‘Look, I think we should have something to eat. You deal with Felix, it’ll soon be the little ones’ bedtime, and then I’ll get us some supper.’
‘I’m not hungry,’ said Sam at once.
‘Neither am I. But we must eat, we are going to need all our strength.’
‘You’re not wrong there,’ Sam muttered.
When Amelia woke at six a.m. the following morning she found her husband had already left the house. It was a Monday morning, the start of the working week. Sam always started early and worked long hours. So this was not unusual. Or it would not have been at any other time.
But this was still only the day after the death of their daughter-in-law, and the day after learning the equally shocking news that the police were treating her death as murder. Although Amelia supposed she had to accept that Sam’s behaviour was nothing if not consistent.