Common Murder

Emma Crab tree nodded. Lindsay thought she detected a certain cynicism in her smile. “He was indeed,” she concurred. “One could scarcely be unaware of that. And for all his faults, Rupert did a lot for this area. He was very good at getting things done. He brooked no opposition. He was a very determined man, my husband. Life will be a lot quieter without him.” For the first time, a note of regret had crept into her voice.

Lindsay brooded on what had been said. It seemed to her that it was now or never for the hard questions. “And did his forcefulness extend to his family life?” she pursued.

Mrs. Crabtree flashed a shrewd glance at her. “In some ways,” she replied cautiously. “He was determined the children shouldn’t be spoilt, that they should prove themselves before getting any financial help from him. Rosamund had to spend three years slaving away in restaurants and hotel kitchens before he’d lend her enough to set up in business on her own. Then Simon wanted to set up this computer software company. But Rupert refused to lend him the capital he needed. Rupert insisted that he stay on at college and finish his accountancy qualifications. But Simon refused. Too like his father. He went ahead with his business idea, in spite of Rupert. But of course, without any capital, he hasn’t got as far as he had hoped.”

“Presumably, though, he’ll inherit a share of his father’s money now?” Lindsay pursued cautiously.

“More than enough for his business, yes. It’ll soften the blow for him of losing his father. He’s been very withdrawn since… since last night. He’s struggling to pretend that life goes on, but I know that deep down he’s in great pain.”

Her defense of her son was cut off by the opening of the dining room door. Lindsay was taken aback. She failed to see how anyone could have entered the house without the dog barking as it had when she and Rigano arrived. She half turned to weight up the new arrival.

“I’m back, mother,” he said brusquely. “Who’s this?”

Simon Crabtree was a very tall young man. He had his father’s dark curling hair and strong build, but the impression of forcefulness was contradicted by a full, soft mouth. Lindsay suddenly understood just why Emma Crabtree was so swift to come to his defense.

“Hello, darling,” she said. “This is Miss Gordon. She’s a journalist. Superintendent Rigano brought her. We’re hoping that now all the other journalists will leave us alone.”

He smiled, and Lindsay realised that he had also inherited his slice of Rupert’s charm. “That bunch? They’ll go as soon as they’ve got another sensation to play with,” he said cynically. “There was no need to invite one in, mother.” He turned to Lindsay and added, “I hope you’ve not been hassling my mother. That’s the last thing she needs after a shock like this.”

“I realise that. I wanted to know a bit about your father. I’m writing a magazine feature about the camp, and your father played an important role that should be recognised. I need to talk to everyone who’s involved, and your mother kindly agreed to give me some time. In return, I’ve promised to get rid of the mob at your gate. A few quotes should persuade them to leave,” Lindsay replied, conciliatory.

“You’d be better employed talking to those women at the peace camp. That way you’d get an interview with my father’s murderer, since the police don’t seem to be in any hurry to arrest her.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” Lindsay said.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? One of those so-called peace women had already assaulted my father. It doesn’t take much intelligence to work it out from there, does it?” Lindsay wondered if it was grief that made him appear so brusque.

“I can understand why you feel like that,” she sympathised. “I’m sure your father’s death has upset you. But at least now you’ll be able to afford to set up your business properly. That will be a kind of tribute in a way, won’t it?”

He shot a shrewd look at Lindsay. “The business is already set up. It’s going to be successful anyway. All this means is that I do things a bit quicker. That’s all. My father’s death means more to me than a bloody business opportunity. Mother, I don’t know why you brought this up.” Turning back to Lindsay he added, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave now. My mother is too tired to deal with more questioning.” He looked expectantly at his mother.

The conditioned reflex built up over the years of marriage to Rupert Crabtree came into play. Simon had come into his inheritance in more ways than one. “Yes,” she said, “I think I’ve told you all I can, Miss Gordon. If you don’t mind.”

Lindsay got to her feet. “I’d like to have a few words with your daughter, Mrs. Crabtree. When will she be home?”

“She doesn’t live here any more. We’re not expecting her till the funeral,” Simon interjected abruptly. “I’ll show you out now.” He opened the door and held it open. Lindsay took the hint and thanked the widow routinely.