Nicola Upson - An Expert in Murder

Tired of her own company, Lydia stood up and walked back across the road, hoping that by now someone might be up and about, ready to keep her from herself.

As soon as the police had finished questioning him about Swinburne, Hedley White asked to see Elspeth. Sergeant Fallowfield looked at him kindly, but with concern. ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea, lad? Mortuaries are terrible places, even for people who are used to them. Wouldn’t you rather wait until we take her somewhere else? It’ll be any time now.’

But Hedley had insisted, unable to bear the thought of Elspeth all alone, and he sat now in a poky room off Gower Street, waiting for someone to fetch him. The door opened and a lady came in, but she was not the member of staff he had been expecting: her dress and the circles around her eyes made it obvious that her relationship with death was anything but a professional one. Not recognising her, he was surprised when she spoke his name.

‘I’m Alice Simmons,’ she added, and waited for him to respond.

So this was Elspeth’s mother – the mother who had brought her up, anyway, and of whom Elspeth spoke so fondly. He stood and held out his hand, nervously wiping it on his trousers first. She looked at him for a long time, assessing the boy who had earned her daughter’s love, and he wondered what she saw and how it tallied with anything that Elspeth might have told her about him.

‘This isn’t the sort of place that a mother dreams of meeting her daughter’s boyfriend,’ she said eventually, ‘but I am pleased to meet you and I’m glad you’re here. The more company Elspeth has, the better, don’t you think?’

Hedley nodded, and they sat down. Mrs Simmons made the sort of small-talk that any potential mother-in-law might resort to, and Hedley sensed that she was as reluctant as he was to refer to the evil that had brought them here.

‘What will you do now?’ she asked, and he was touched to see genuine concern in her face, but had no idea what the answer 277

was. He had vowed never to enter a theatre again, and had meant it. His whole love of the stage had been guided by Elspeth’s enthusiasm and Aubrey’s belief in him, and it would never be the same now that they were both gone. Lydia always joked that he had a job with her looking after the elusive house in the country, but who could say if that would ever be a reality? Even so, he knew he could be sure of Lydia’s friendship: they had always got on, but were bound now by a mutual sense of loss for a daughter and her mother, a victim and . . . well, he didn’t quite know how he felt about Marta Fox but, for Lydia’s sake, he would try to focus on sympathy rather than on the bitterness that sprang more readily to mind. As for Swinburne, he would be outside the gaol to hear the clock strike nine on the morning that bastard was hanged.

‘Anyway, you’ll come and stay with us at Frank and Betty’s, I hope, for now?’ she said. ‘They’ve asked me to say you’ll be more than welcome. There’s not much room, I know, but it’ll be good for us all to have each other.’

Hedley accepted, grateful to have his next steps marked out for him. When a woman came to fetch them at last, they went in to see Elspeth together.

The manuscript of Marta’s new novel lay on the table, untouched since Josephine had left it there the day before. She had not felt able to look at it again, but she had read enough to know that its subject was a fictional account of Marta’s marriage, powerful in its own right and not in the least self-indulgent, but poignantly autobiographical nonetheless. Josephine could already imagine a publisher rubbing his hands together with glee. What sort of ending had Marta written for herself, she wondered? She would find out in time, but not yet. At the moment, the manuscript was too strong a reminder of her own doubts and fears. She had felt certain yesterday that she was doing the right thing, but now she questioned her decision.

Archie had been white with rage when he caught up with her at the Yard. It had not taken him long to realise his mistake, but 278

the other train had stopped at three stations before he was able to have it searched, giving Marta plenty of time to disappear. God knows what would happen to her now: Archie had vowed to find her if it was the last thing he did and Josephine had never seen him so angry; he had even threatened to arrest her for aiding and abetting Marta’s escape. In part, his fury was with himself: he had acted rashly in underestimating Marta Fox, and he would regard that as inexcusable. But Josephine also understood that she had betrayed his trust and undermined his integrity, and he might find that hard to forgive, no matter how much he loved her. Yesterday, when he accused her of taking justice into her own hands just like Vintner and Marta and Aubrey, the truth of his words had stung.

For something to do, she went through to the small kitchen to make breakfast and found some bacon in the refrigerator. She took it out, then put it straight back and settled for a pot of tea instead.

Food was more than she could face.

‘Is there enough in that pot for two?’ Lydia spoke hesitantly, as if wondering what sort of reception she would get.

‘There’s plenty,’ Josephine said, delighted to see her. ‘But I’m afraid it’s proper tea, not the scented apology for a hot drink that you prefer.’

‘I’ll slum it, just this once.’ Lydia smiled, sharing Josephine’s relief, and found some cups and saucers in the cupboard. ‘I’m sorry, Josephine,’ she said, suddenly serious. ‘It was much easier to blame you for letting Marta go than to think about how I might have let her down. Who knows, if I’d taken more time to listen to her and read between the lines, she might have felt strong enough to rebuild her life another way. I miss her so much, but I was a cow to blame you because she’s not here any more.’

Josephine took her hand. ‘I’m sorry, too,’ she said. ‘I really thought I was doing what was right, but then so did Marta and Bernard, and even Vintner in his way, and look where that got them. I might just have made it worse. But she does love you, you know. She wanted you to be sure of that.’

Lydia had not missed the present tense. ‘Do you think there’s 279

any chance she might change her mind now that she’s away from everything?’

‘I really don’t know,’ Josephine said, conscious of the irony that, if Marta did have a change of heart, it would be her work that kept her alive. ‘I hoped she would and I asked her to, but I’m honestly not sure if I could live with what she knows.’ She poured the hot water into the pot and looked at Lydia. ‘And Archie’s determined to track her down. It’s become a battle of wills between those two since they first clashed swords. He’s probably staking Cambridge out as we speak.’

‘Is that where she went, do you think?’

Josephine considered. ‘It would be my first guess, although I purposely didn’t ask – I wouldn’t have been able to lie to Archie in the mood he was in. It’s where Marta met Arthur so, in spite of Vintner, she was happy there. If she has gone to Cambridge, though, I don’t think she’ll be able to keep it a secret. It’s a small place, and Archie knows it well.’

‘Has all this caused problems between the two of you?’

‘It certainly hasn’t made things any easier, but then my relationship with Archie has never been easy.’

‘Why is that? Because he loves you and knows you don’t feel the same way?’

‘It’s more complicated than that. It goes back twenty years.’

‘Doesn’t everything?’ Lydia raised an eyebrow wryly. ‘We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.’

‘It’s not that. It just feels disloyal to Archie.’