Paul Gitsham: The Last Straw

“What puzzles me is why Spencer and Hemmingway were around Tunbridge’s house when you arrived. It doesn’t seem to make any sense.”

“Well, Spencer and Tunbridge were lying low until the shit storm died down. We’ve no idea what their plans were in the long run — to re-emerge and brazen it out or to run away. So ask yourself, where is the last place anyone would have expected to find them? Pretty ballsy, I agree. It also meant that Tunbridge could keep an eye on them.”

“But what about her son? He met Spencer and Hemmingway at his mother’s house. Was he involved?”

“Apparently not. And so what if he met them? He was already due to fly back to the States the day after the funeral. You may have noticed that I haven’t yet mentioned the couple’s daughter. It seems that she didn’t even bother coming home for the funeral. Their son Simon has spent more time catching up with old friends than comforting his dear old mother, although he did seem genuinely shocked and upset that his father had been murdered. Apparently Tunbridge was banking on him being safely gone before we went public with any photos of the missing culprits. I guess that BBC America doesn’t screen Crimewatch reconstructions.”

Naseem shook his head. “What a messed-up family.”

“You’ll get no argument from me. I’ve often thought that what you show the world publicly is only a shadow of what you are like behind closed doors. If that’s the case, then given what a nasty individual Alan Tunbridge was in public we can only imagine what was going on at home.”

“I suspect you’re probably right. Yet it would seem that it was Tunbridge’s decision to divorce his wife that started the ball rolling.”

“Yes, it’s ironic that that was probably the last straw. You would think that, after all she’d put up with, a divorce would be exactly what she’d want.”

The two men lapsed into a contemplative silence. Finally, Naseem spoke up. “You know, the more I learn about Tunbridge, the more I see why someone bumped him off. I hope that when I die, I’ll be missed a little more than the professor.”

Warren couldn’t help a full-throated chuckle.

Naseem looked at him in surprise. “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, sir, it’s just that I said the exact same thing to DI Tony Sutton.”

“Oh? What was his response?”

“He suggested that I’d have to start working on my reputation so that everyone would love me when I go.”

“I see, and did he have any suggestions?”

“He did, as a matter of fact. He suggested that I should get the first round in.”

Naseem stared at him for a long moment, before looking at the clock above his desk. “Sounds good to me. There’s a lovely little pub just round the corner. I’ll get my coat.”