Alex Gray - The Riverman

‘I never actually met her.’

Lorimer gave the ghost of a smile. ‘I did. And I’d have backed my instinct that she was a genuinely grieving widow. But then we can’t afford to take chances on something as flimsy as instincts, can we?’

Niall Cameron smothered the desire to laugh. Lorimer’s instincts were pretty legendary. He was the sort of man who seemed to home in on situations with a kind of moral radar, one reason why the Lewisman had plenty of respect for his DCI. ‘Spouses are often the perpetrators of murders,’ he ventured carefully.

‘Aye and clichés aren’t wrong because they’re so obvious,’ Lorimer countered sardonically. ‘Och, we’ll have to go and see her.’ He sighed wearily. ‘Even if it’s just to eliminate her from the picture.’ He jerked his thumb in the direction of the video screen. ‘But not tonight. How about making an appointment for us to visit first thing tomorrow?’ Lorimer stretched back in the chair, hands clasped behind his head. He could do with some exercise after all the sitting. Maybe he’d still make it home before Maggie and have time for a run?

‘Want me to pack this up for the night, then?’

‘Aye.’ Lorimer stood up and nodded to the DC. ‘See you in the morning.’

Philip Forbes opened the door immediately after the doorbell rang. Two tall men stood there, solemn faced and regarding him with what he took to be suspicion rather than curiosity. But after a sleepless night he really couldn’t be sure.

‘Detective Chief Inspector Lorimer, Detective Constable Cameron.’ The older of the men was holding out his warrant card for Philip to see.

‘Come in,’ Philip replied distractedly, opening the door wider and standing aside.

‘Thank you, Mister …?’

Philip was suddenly aware of a pair of keen blue eyes scrutinizing him. They made him feel awkward and guilty like a ten-year-old kid who’d tried to cover up some misdemeanor.

‘Forbes,’ he replied hastily. ‘I’m Philip Forbes,’ he added, holding out his hand in a belated attempt at civility.

The hand that took his was warm and strong and somehow reassuring. Or was it the gentle look of sympathy that had taken the ice out of that blue gaze? The nod he received from the other man was brief but his expression too showed a kindliness that Philip hadn’t expected from the policemen.

‘We’re here to see your mother, Philip,’ DCI Lorimer began.

Philip felt a shiver run down his spine but before he had time to reply a voice came from the half-landing upstairs.

‘Here I am.’

All three turned to look up at the woman slowly descending the stairs. Lorimer watched as she held on to the banister for support, her eyes on each step as if she might stumble. Elizabeth Forbes was a shadow of the person he had seen only three weeks before. Her hair, thin and unkempt, was straggling about her face and her fingers seemed devoid of flesh as they clutched the wooden rail. In the silence, Lorimer could hear her breath coming in spasms as if the very effort of coming downstairs caused her pain.

‘Mum.’ Philip had stepped forward and was holding out his hand, ready to take his mother’s arm.

‘In the sitting room, Philip.’ She motioned, as the final step was taken.

The two policemen followed Philip Forbes and his mother into the brightly lit room where a fire was burning in the grate. The woman sank into the same chair that she’d taken on Lorimer’s previous visit but that was the only thing that seemed familiar. Her whole appearance was altered and Lorimer was curious to know just what had turned Duncan Forbes’ wife into an old woman as well as a widow.

‘Philip, fetch some tea for us, will you, darling?’ Elizabeth Forbes touched the boy’s arm gently. Lorimer caught the look of anxiety that flitted across Philip’s face as he looked from his mother to the visitors. ‘It’s okay, I’ll be fine,’ she added.

Only when her son was out of earshot did the woman turn to Lorimer.

‘Well, Chief Inspector. What is this about?’

‘There are one or two things we would like to clear up, Mrs Forbes,’ Lorimer began. ‘It has come to our attention that you were in the vicinity of the Crowne Plaza Hotel on the night of your husband’s death,’ he said quietly.

There was no response from her but Lorimer could see her stiffen so he continued, ‘You were seen on the hotel’s CCTV camera leaving the car park shortly before your husband was seen coming out of the building. Perhaps you’d like to tell us why you were there? And why you failed to inform us of that before now?’ Lorimer’s voice remained low but there was no mistaking the gravity of his manner.

The woman looked from one man to the other, an expression of disbelief on her face. Lorimer saw the hollow eyes widen as if in fear. She remained motionless for a time, unable to take in his words, her terrified gaze fixed on Lorimer. Then Duncan Forbes’ widow lowered her eyes and began to weep, her quiet sobs becoming cries of distress as she covered her face with her hands.

Lorimer glanced at Cameron, who appeared to be visibly embarrassed by this show of despair, then rose to his feet as Philip Forbes rushed into the room, his face stricken.

‘Mum!’ He turned wildly to the policemen. ‘What have you been asking her? Why can’t you leave her alone?’

‘It was … it was … the … letters,’ Liz Forbes gasped between sobs that racked her thin chest.

‘Letters?’ Lorimer began.

‘It’s nothing to do with those letters!’ Philip screamed.

There was a horrified silence as Elizabeth Forbes suddenly stopped crying and looked at her son, an expression of anguish in her eyes. Lorimer took a step forward, his hand on the boy’s arm. ‘What letters, Philip?’

He watched as the boy turned towards his mother and in the same moment heard her groan, ‘Oh, Philip!’

Lorimer saw the colour drain out of the boy’s face as he realized his blunder.

‘What letters, Philip?’ he repeated, in a firm tone that sounded harsh even to his own ears.

‘The ones in the musical box-’ he faltered.

‘Letters addressed to me, Chief Inspector,’ Liz Forbes interrupted. ‘Letters nobody was ever meant to see.’ She paused and turned suddenly towards her son who winced under her glare. ‘They were anonymous. Poison-pen letters.’ She gave a harsh little laugh. ‘God only knows why I didn’t throw them out.’

‘And their contents?’ Lorimer persisted.

Liz Forbes shook her head, the wisps of hair falling over her ears. ‘They were about Duncan,’ she began, then her face crumpled again and she began to weep softly.

‘Mum, oh, Mum, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy. I was only looking for my certificates.’ Philip Forbes was crouched down at his mother’s side, his hand stroking her arm. She patted the hand distractedly.

‘That’s all right, pet. You weren’t to know, it’s my own silly fault for keeping them.’

Lorimer cleared his throat in an effort to recapture their attention.

‘I’m sorry, Chief Inspector,’ she said, fumbling for a handkerchief to blow her nose. ‘Phil, go and get them, will you?’

‘Okay,’ the boy mumbled and stood up, casting a baleful look at the two policemen.

A sigh escaped Liz Forbes as she watched her son leave the room.

‘Oh, God, what must he be thinking?’ She turned towards Lorimer again, ‘He worshipped his dad,’ she explained simply. ‘This will hurt him so badly.’

Lorimer watched as she sank back into the armchair, her face tired and resigned but oddly calmer as if relieved to have this sordid little secret out in the open.

Philip returned and approached his mother, the blue envelopes in his hand but Liz Forbes motioned that he should give them to Lorimer instead.