Our House(68)

Once or twice, I even caught myself thinking I should bring the boys here for a sleepover, but of course I was only here so that they could be there.

As for Bram, what few traces he left of himself, none pointed to any female guest – or friendship of any kind, actually.





36


Bram, Word document

And then, at last, the police came. Not to the flat, but to my office in Croydon. A detective arrived the next Tuesday morning – thank God he was plainclothes and not in uniform. I handled it okay. I must have done, because it was a while before it was followed up.

I commandeered a small, windowless meeting room just off reception for our chat. On the table was an array of our new semi-rigid neck collars with adjustable Velcro strapping and I pushed them to the side without commenting.

No wisecracks. Don’t antagonize him.

‘So, Mr Lawson, you are the joint owner with Mrs Fiona Lawson of a black Audi A3?’ he asked, quoting the reg. He was in his forties, pale-haired and thick-necked, his experience of human fallibility unsettlingly underplayed as he searched my face for liar’s tics.

Don’t think like that, just answer his questions!

‘Yes, at least I was. It was stolen back in early October. Is this about the insurance claim?’

Make him think that’s your only concern.

‘No, nothing to do with that,’ he said.

‘Oh, hang on, are you the officer who spoke to Fi a few weeks ago?’

‘That’s right.’

‘She said something about the keys having been stolen? I have to say I think they’re far more likely to be down the side of the sofa.’

‘If you do find them there, let me know.’ His manner was affable, as if he was here to pass the time in small talk.

‘The thing is, the insurance claim is all settled now,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t sure if they’d been in touch with you.’

Not a question; it doesn’t bother you either way since they’ve already paid out the cheque.

‘Do you remember where you were on Friday sixteenth September, Mr Lawson?’ he asked.

My pulse quickened. ‘Yes, that was the day of my work sales conference.’ Silly to pretend I didn’t remember when I’d already suggested I’d discussed details of Fi’s interview with her.

‘It took place here?’

‘No, it’s always off-site. This year it was at a hotel down near Gatwick.’

‘What time did it finish?’

‘It would have been about five, maybe a bit earlier.’

‘That was when you left?’

Don’t second-guess him. Just answer each question as it comes.

‘Yes. Some people stayed on for drinks, but I had to get home.’

‘You drove yourself in the Audi, did you?’

‘Actually, no.’ I pulled a sheepish expression, hesitated as if embarrassed to admit the truth. ‘I didn’t drive at all around that time.’

‘Why was that?’

I sighed. ‘If you’re investigating our car, then you probably already know, do you?’

‘Know what, Mr Lawson?’

‘I’ve got a driving ban. It happened back in February. I was caught speeding a few times. So my wife has been the only driver since then.’

He did not react, which encouraged me to continue.

‘She didn’t mention it when you spoke to her, did she? That’s because she didn’t know. She still doesn’t, I hope.’ I paused, as if taking a moment to grapple with my own shame. ‘We’ve split up, you see, and I’ve found it’s not always helpful to tell her everything I’ve done wrong. And if you’re speaking to her again, I’d be grateful if you didn’t let on.’

It was too much to expect a law enforcement officer to collude with me in marital subterfuge, but I thought I detected the faintest flicker of sympathy.

‘I don’t expect to have to speak to her again,’ he said, and I felt like punching the air. This could only be routine, then, part of the police’s painstaking process of elimination.

Get through this and you’ll be off the list!

‘So how did you travel home that Friday, Mr Lawson?’

‘I got the train. The station was right near the venue.’

True.

‘Which station?’

‘I can’t remember the name, one or two before the airport, on the slow line. But the hotel was called Blackthorn something. I can look it up if you like?’

He didn’t ask me to do so, which I took to mean he did not intend to waste manpower on this particular line of inquiry.

‘So, you left before five and were home by, what, six o’clock?’

‘No, I had to change trains at Clapham Junction, so I stopped for a couple of pints. I was desperate for a drink, to be honest, it had been an exhausting day. I was due at the house at seven, so I got the connecting train at about six forty. It’s only a couple of stops from Alder Rise.’

‘Which pub did you drink in?’

This seemed less good. If he accepted that I’d taken the train, then why probe the drinking? Perhaps because it was extraneous detail I had introduced. Why would I feel the need to say I’d been desperate for a drink? Stop asking why and just answer the bloody questions! ‘The one right next to the station. Is it the Half Moon, maybe?’