Alex Gray - A Pound Of Flesh

‘Gran.’ A small voice made her turn to see a pretty child with blonde curls framing her pale face. It was Kim, her youngest granddaughter standing at the kitchen doorway, a favourite raggy doll clutched to her chest.

‘Oh, my darling!’ she sighed, swooping down and taking the child into her arms as she stepped towards her. The warmth from the child’s body coursed through her, bringing an unexpected comfort. It took a huge effort to keep her own tears from falling onto the child’s shoulders. She might be old but she had to be strong.

Then that same small voice piped up, crushing her resolve.

‘Why is Daddy not coming home?’

Lorimer’s presence was a dark shadow against the glass door, something that a child might tremble to see. Sarah Cadell had made sure, however, that none of the children were downstairs to await the detective’s arrival. The television in their parents’ bedroom was currently showing one of their many Christmas DVDs and for once Sarah was glad of the space that watching cartoons afforded them all. It had been that police liaison officer’s idea. She was a mother herself, knew how to keep her own brood amused, she’d said, as she’d asked if there was another television anywhere in the house.

‘Can I stay when the Detective Superintendent arrives?’ Sarah had asked, but Catherine had shaken her head then glared a warning at her. There was a back room that served as the children’s playroom. A family room, Catherine called it, though God alone knew when they had last all sat there as a family. Sarah slipped into it, knowing she was close enough at hand should the tall policeman demand to see her. She was also in earshot of anything that might be said in the drawing room should she be able to keep both doors slightly open.

Sarah Cadell heard the door opening and then one of the uniformed officers was speaking to the man from Glasgow.

‘The children are upstairs, sir. Family liaison officer will keep them there until you need to speak to them.’

‘They will need to be with their mother or another adult relation,’ Lorimer was saying when Sarah stepped hurriedly out of the playroom and approached the tall man whose long shadow seemed to stretch out unnaturally along the corridor.

‘I can stay with the children,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m Mrs Cadell, Mrs Pattison’s mother.’

‘Yes,’ Lorimer said, taking off his gloves and clasping her hand. ‘We met before,’ he added.

Sarah Cadell took in a sudden breath. It was not just the strength of that warm hand closing on her own, but the directness of his gaze and those blue eyes … lovely eyes, she thought, eyes that should be painted by a master, but eyes that would surely follow you around any room looking down from their face in a portrait.

‘You will be kind…?’ she asked falteringly as he released her hand.

But all she received by way of an answer was a tired sort of smile and a nod of the head. Sarah stood, helplessly, unable to decide whether to go back to the room next door or creep upstairs and join the children.

She watched as they moved into the drawing room then sighed as Lorimer closed the door firmly behind them.

*

Catherine Pattison did not rise as the men entered the room. Instead she merely turned her head and stared, an expression of defiance etched on her handsome features.

‘Mrs Pattison,’ Lorimer said, then turned his attention to a slim blonde who had risen to her feet, hand outstretched.

‘Belinda Joseph. Joseph, Connery and partners,’ the woman told him. ‘I’m Mrs Pattison’s solicitor,’ she added in a slightly patronising tone as though it were necessary to spell things out in plain English for this man from Glasgow.

‘Detective Superintendent Lorimer,’ he replied briefly. ‘Now,’ he said, turning to gaze at Catherine Pattison. ‘Would you like to tell me why you’ve been wasting so much police time, Mrs Pattison?’

‘I’ve instructed my client to say nothing,’ Belinda Joseph stated with a toss of her head that made her blonde ponytail swish. For an absurd moment she reminded Lorimer of a well-bred racehorse, nervy and highly strung.

‘Well, if that’s the case perhaps I should ask Mrs Pattison to accompany us to Glasgow,’ he began, watching the reaction in the two women’s faces.

Catherine Pattison opened her mouth to speak, her cheeks suddenly turning white but the solicitor raised a hand to stop her, eyes flashing angrily.

‘Are you threatening my client?’ she asked, hands on her hips. ‘If so, I can report you-’

‘Let’s get one thing absolutely clear,’ Lorimer stormed, cutting across the woman before she could utter another word. ‘This is a serious murder case and Mrs Pattison has already lied to me about her alibi for the night on which her husband was killed. I want to know why. And if I don’t get the answers here I can try to get them back at police headquarters.’ He turned to Catherine Pattison, fixing her with his blue gaze, adding sternly, ‘Even if I have to arrest you on suspicion of murdering your husband!’

The gasp from the doorway made them all turn to see Mrs Cadell who was standing, hands by the sides of her face.

‘No!’ she said. ‘You can’t do that! It wasn’t what you think … ’

‘Mother!’ Catherine Pattison was on her feet now, her face a mask of terror. ‘Don’t!’

‘I have to,’ the old lady said, stumbling forward and catching hold of the back of a chair. ‘It’s no use, Catherine, they have to know the truth.’

‘Mrs Cadell.’ The solicitor stepped forward and made as if to take the old lady’s hand but Sarah Cadell shook her off.

‘No, the detective superintendent needs to know what’s been going on here. There have been too many lies told already,’ she said.

‘Mrs Pattison?’ Lorimer murmured quietly, moving around the room so that Catherine Pattison could not avoid looking up at him. ‘Perhaps you would prefer to tell me what this is all about?’

Catherine Pattison shot an anguished glance at the solicitor who merely shrugged then looked at Sarah Cadell who was clutching the back of the chair to steady herself.

‘Come and sit down, Mother,’ she said softly. ‘I’m sorry. It’s been such a strain for us all.’

Lorimer rose to assist the old lady into a vacant chair so that the three women were sitting side by side. He remained standing, hands behind his back, deliberately towering over them as though to symbolise the presence of law and order.

Catherine Pattison sat up a little straighter then cleared her throat. ‘My husband was not a faithful man,’ she began. There was a pause as she bit her lip before continuing. ‘But then, I was not a faithful wife.’ She had clasped her hands now and Lorimer watched as she wrung them together, in an unconscious gesture of despair.

‘Frank Hardy?’ Lorimer asked quietly.

Catherine Pattison opened her mouth in an O of astonishment. ‘You knew ?’ she said, frowning as though she had suddenly been tricked.

‘No,’ Lorimer replied. ‘But I did make an educated guess.’

‘Oh,’ the woman replied, suddenly at a loss for words.

‘And were you with Hardy on the night of your husband’s death?’

She had dropped her gaze now and was sitting, head bowed so that her nod was barely imperceptible.

‘So why did you tell me that he might be a candidate for killing your husband? I don’t quite understand,’ Lorimer continued.

‘We thought … ’ Catherine tailed off, sniffing into a handkerchief that she had found behind a cushion.

‘Mrs Pattison thought that if you knew about her affair with Mr Hardy then that might constitute a motive for murder,’ Belinda Joseph told him.

‘And it might still,’ Lorimer replied.