Kith and Kill (14 page)

Amos looked round to see that Agnes had followed him and Swift and was standing in the lounge doorway.

“Is that the amount of scotch that was in the decanter when you left?” Amos asked.

“It looks about right,” Agnes said doubtfully. “I didn’t measure it. I had other things on my mind, like getting Mark to hospital.”

“Yes, of course,” Amos admitted. “We’ll need to take it and get the contents analysed. Did he have soda water in his drink?”

“Yes, he always did.”

“We’ll need to take that as well. What happened to the glass he was drinking out of?”

“I don’t know,” Agnes said looking dazed. “He dropped it. I think it broke.”

Amos got down on his knees and ran his hands over the carpet. It was slightly damp over a small area but he could not detect the rough feel of broken glass.

However, part of the glass had shot under the sideboard. Amos took a plastic glove out of his pocket and put it on his hand before extracting it carefully. It was the base of the glass and it contained a tiny amount of brown liquid – just enough to test for traces of ketamine. The inspector placed it carefully on the top of the sideboard.

“That’s for evidence. Can we get these three items bagged carefully and tested for ketamine, please, Juliet, but I think we already know the answer.”

A loud knock on the front door interrupted proceedings at this point. Whoever it was tried the handle but the door was locked. Evidently Agnes had turned back to lock it after they entered. Amos had been too intent on dashing into the lounge to notice.

Agnes went to the door, unlocked it and opened it. Esther stood on the doorstep.

“What’s happened?” she asked breathlessly.

“Mark’s dead,” Agnes replied in a flat, matter-of-fact tone. “You’d better come in. The police are here.”

Esther came through to the lounge and Agnes could be heard turning the key once more in the front door.

Amos stepped smartly to the lounge door, blocking it, and asked: “Is there another room we could sit in? I’d rather we didn’t disturb the lounge any further for the time being.”

Agnes looked uncertain.

“Well, there’s the kitchen, I suppose,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. “Or the dining room.”

“The dining room would be better,” Amos said smoothly. “Let’s go in there.”

To his surprise, the room was already occupied. A young woman, aged about 20, was seated at the table.

“Oh, you’re in here,” Agnes said to her. “I wondered where you were.

“This is my daughter Caroline,” she added to Amos, then back to her daughter she asked: “Do you know where Cathy is.”

Caroline shrugged he shoulders noncommittally.

“Out somewhere,” she replied.

“Dad is ...” her mother started to say.

“I know. I heard.”

Amos struggled to remember what had been said in the lounge. He didn’t recall any mention of Mark’s demise. Had Caroline grasped that her father was dead?

“You don’t seem very bothered,” Swift commented. “You didn’t even come to see if your mother was all right.”

Caroline shrugged her shoulders again.

“You do realise,” Amos said, “that your father is dead.”

The young woman nodded.

“And that the circumstances are very similar to your uncle Matthew?”

For the first time, Caroline looked slightly startled. However, she remain ned startled.

“Were you here when your father was taken ill?” Amos demanded.

“No, I was out,” she replied irritably.

“Where?”

“Out. In town. Doing things.”

“When did you get back?”

“Soon as I could after I got Auntie Ruth’s phone call.”

“What did she tell you?”

“That Dad had collapsed and had been rushed to hospital. Mum had gone with him and they were going to have to leave the front door unlocked because they hadn’t got a key.”

“They?”

“Auntie Ruth and Auntie Mary.”

Caroline shot a glance at Esther, who showed no reaction and said nothing.

“Couldn’t either of them have stayed until you got back?” Swift asked.

“How should I know?” Caroline demanded indignantly. “You’ll have to ask them.”

“Caroline,” a shocked Agnes said. “These are police officers. Show some respect.”

Caroline merely grunted.

“How long was it before you got back?” Amos asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t look at my watch. About 20 minutes. I wasn’t all that long.”

“Were either of them still here when you got back?”

“No. I told you. They had to get off.”

“Did you clear up at all?”

Agnes snorted and Caroline shook her head.

“Was I supposed to?” Caroline asked innocently.

“No, not at all,” Amos said. “Did you touch the decanter or anything else in the lounge?”

“I didn’t go in the lounge,” Caroline said simply.

“That’s good,” Amos said. Then he turned to Esther.

“You didn’t stay, then, after Mark was put in the ambulance,” he asked her.

“No, I had to get off,” she said pointedly. “I had an urgent meeting at the vet’s. We had urgent things to discuss.”

Amos took the hint and pursued the matter no further. He was in no rush to tell the rest of the Wilson family about Esther’s misdemeanour with the ketamine.

“And Luke and his wife?”

“They left at the same time as I did.”

Amos turned to Swift.

“Juliet, can you call HQ and get someone down here to take the glass and decanter with utmost care,” he said. “Keep the room secure until they do. I don’t think there’s much point in taking fingerprints in the room.

“I’m going to see Mary and Ruth. I’ll pick you up on the way back.”

Swift nodded and handed the car keys to Amos, who left without further ado.

Chapter 26

Detective Inspector Paul Amos decided to call at Mary’s first. She was the more likely of the other two sisters to be at home. Ruth could still be at school and he preferred not to talk to her there.

Mary looked agitated when she opened the door in response to the inspector’s knock but she did not seem surprised to see him.

“It’s Mark, I take it,” she said simply.

“Yes,” Amos replied. “Can we step inside?”

“Is he dead?”

“Yes. Now please can we talk inside.”

Mary stepped back and allowed Amos through the door. Now he had confirmed the purpose of his visit she relaxed slightly, as if confirmation of the news, however bad, was better than the uncertainty of wondering if Mark would live or die.

“Wipe your feet,” she said abruptly. “You trod some dirt in last time. Cleanliness is next to godliness.”

Amos looked round the hall as he did Mary’s bidding on the doormat. For the first time he noticed that the house was spotless. Mrs Amos was no slouch but there was generally the odd spec of something or other on the hall carpet and the inevitable cobweb tended to taunt her from just out of reach of the vacuum cleaner nozzle until Amos got a chair and did duty. Mary was not particularly tall but she tolerated no high level festoons.

Once Mary was satisfied that the soles of Amos’s shoes were respectfully clean, she led him through to the room where he had interviewed her after the death of her elder brother Matthew.

“Miss Wilson,” Amos began when they were seated. “I believe you were at your brother Mark’s house when he was taken ill. Can you tell us what happened?”

“All the brothers and sisters were there – except Matthew, or course. His wife Jane turned up with some woman none of us had ever seen before as far as I know. Agnes was there, of course. She wouldn’t miss out and she wouldn’t trust Mark to handle things.

“Mark just wanted to get the reading of Dad’s will out of the way, that’s all it was. Matthew was going to do it but of course he couldn’t, not any more. Jane brought the will along, not that it was anything to do with her any more, but she gave it to Mark and he read it.”

“And were the contents of the will what you expected?”

“Why wouldn’t they be? The money, what little there is, and the house, will be divided between us as you would expect.”

“I recall you were somewhat distressed about the will when I spoke to you after Matthew’s death. You thought you had been left nothing and would be made homeless.”

“That’s my problem,” Mary said rudely.

She was keen enough to talk about it last time we met, Amos thought, but since Amos knew precisely what was in the will, he saw no need to press the matter further. If anything, he was relieved not to get a maudlin sob story from the unfortunate Mary who would, indeed, be made homeless if her siblings insisted on selling the house and dividing the proceeds.

“Did anyone have a drink or anything to eat?” he asked instead. Amos was pretty sure he knew the answer to this as well but it did no harm to cross-check witnesses’ accounts. He was mindful of the differing estimates that family members had given of how much Matthew had drunk at his father’s wake.

“Nobody had anything – except Mark, who had a drink of something, I don’t know what – and neither he nor Agnes had the good grace to offer anyone else anything.”

“Did you see a decanter on the sideboard?”

“I didn’t look particularly. Was there one?”

“You’ve been to Mark’s house before, I take it,” Amos said testily. “Isn’t there usually a decanter of whisky there?”

“I suppose so. Yes, I have seen it. I just don’t know if it was there today.”

“Was anyone near the sideboard apart from Mark?”

“We all had to walk past it coming in and out. Everyone went near it.”

“Did you see anyone touch the decanter? Apart from Mark?”

“I told you, I didn’t particularly notice it.”

“OK, what happened after the will was read?”

“That was about it really. Jane and her funny friend went home and the rest of us were leaving when Mark fell over. I think Esther had already left as well when it happened and so had Ruth’s husband Ken. Oh, and Luke and Beth went about the same time. Ruth rang for an ambulance immediately. She sort of took charge.”

“What happened while you were waiting for the ambulance?”

“It didn’t seem to take all that long. Agnes was fawning all over him on the floor, as if that would do any good. I said to her, ‘It’s a bit late now.’ She didn’t take any notice. Ruth put him into what she said was the recovery position. They’d been taught first aid at school.”

“What happened when the ambulance arrived?”

“Ruth let the paramedics in. The door was unlocked because we were all supposed to be leaving when Mark collapsed. They got Mark into the ambulance and Ruth told Agnes to go with him and we’d see to things.”

“So there was just you and Ruth left in the house?”

“Well, yes. Ruth and I cleared up the broken glass before we left. It only took a few moments. We put the bits in the dustbin. Then we realised we couldn’t lock up because it was a mortise lock and we didn’t have a key.

“But Mark’s daughter Caroline happened to ring while we were clearing up so I told her to get home as soon as possible. She said she’d be about half an hour so I thought it was safe to leave the house unlocked.

“But Ruth said we couldn’t do that, it wasn’t safe. I had to leave so she stayed behind waiting for Caroline. ”

“Surely she had to get back to school,” Amos protested. “Wouldn’t it have been easier for you to stay?”

“I had things to do. This house doesn’t clean itself, you know.”

“So you left Ruth at the house?”

“Yes. She was all right, she has a car. I have to go and catch a bus.”

Chapter 27

Ruth was not at home but her husband Ken was. He greeted Amos with a suitably glum expression.

“Better come in, inspector,” he said after Amos had introduced himself and shown his warrant card. “Bad job this. First Ruth’s father, then Matthew and now Mark. It’s hard to take in.”

“You’ve obviously heard about Mark, then,” Amos said. He had expected that he would have to break the news to Ruth’s husband, so at least he was spared that unpleasant chore.

“Ruth’s just rung. She’ll be back in a few minutes if you don’t mind waiting. She rang Agnes just before she rang me. I can’t believe Mark’s dead as well.”

“You were at the lunchtime meeting, I gather.”

“Yes. Mark was keen to have partners as well as direct family. It was about the will – old Mr Wilson’s, that is. That was all. Mark seemed fine.”

“And he read the will? Was there any discussion?”

“Not really. Not while I was there, anyway, but I was one of the first to get back to work. I’m going abroad again and I have things to do before I go. I shouldn’t think Ruth’s Dad had much to leave, but there you are. As my father used to say, God bless him, where there’s a will there’s relations.”

“I’m told that only Mark had anything to eat or drink at the meeting,” Amos said. “As far as you know, is that right?”

“Yes, he had a drink,” Ken said sitting up straight suddenly. “You don’t think … you can’t mean …”

“I’m afraid I can, Mr Denton,” Amos replied. “We have to treat this as a suspicious death similar to Matthew Wilson’s until we know for certain one way or the other.”

Ken sat back, apparently stunned.

“Mark was drinking scotch, I’m told,” Amos persisted. He wanted as much information and confirmation as he could from a man who was probably reasonably detached but closely involved. If it turned out that his wife was the killer, he probably was unaware of the fact at this stage.

“I assume it was scotch,” Ken said. “It looked like scotch and he usually drinks whisky. He poured it out of a decanter on the sideboard. He always kept it there – and least he did on the few occasions I’ve been in his house.”

“Did he put any ice or water in it?”

“I think just water. He went through to the kitchen and came back with the glass looking a bit fuller. I don’t know how he could do it. If I had a drink at lunchtime I’d fall asleep in the afternoon.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t soda he put in? There was a syphon on the sideboard.”

Ken thought for a few moments.

“It could have been,” he said finally. “You’re right. There was a soda water syphon now you come to mention it. I didn’t see him use it but he could have done. I wasn’t particularly watching him. I was talking to Ruth.”