The Sentence Is Death

‘We’ve only just started investigating,’ I said. I quite liked that ‘we’. I didn’t often get a chance to use it.

‘There were loads of people who didn’t like Richard,’ Colin said.

‘Colin!’

‘That’s what he said, Mum. He often used to say that he made an enemy every time he did a divorce, because someone had to win and someone had to lose.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Did you tell them he was being followed?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘It’s true!’ Colin turned to Hawthorne. ‘He said he was being followed. He told me when he was here.’

‘When was that?’ Hawthorne asked.

‘He came over the day before my birthday. My birthday’s the thirteenth of October and he came over on the twelfth. He bought me a telescope. It’s in my bedroom. You can see it if you like.’

‘Colin is interested in astronomy,’ his mother explained.

‘He stayed for tea and that was when he talked about it.’ He glared at her accusingly. ‘You were here!’

‘The two of you were talking for ages. And I didn’t hear what he said.’

‘Did he describe the man who was following him?’ Hawthorne said.

‘Not really. No. He said he looked ill. He said that was why he noticed him, because there was something wrong with his face. It was ghastly. He said he’d seen him two or three times.’

‘Where?’

‘He was sitting at the table. Right where you are now.’

‘No. I mean, where had he seen him?’

Colin screwed up his face in concentration. ‘Well, it was outside his house at least one of the times. He said he saw him out of one of the upper windows. And he may have been at the office too.’

‘You’re not making this up, are you, Colin?’ Davina asked. ‘I’m sure Richard would have said something to me.’

‘You were there!’ Colin insisted. ‘Anyway, he didn’t make a big deal about it. He just said it had happened. That was all.’

‘When was the last time you saw your godfather?’ Hawthorne asked.

‘When I just told you. That was the last time.’

‘I saw him more recently than that,’ Davina said. ‘I was at Heron’s Wake last week. I went over with some colour samples for him to choose.’

That reminded me. ‘I don’t suppose the number one eight two means anything to you?’ I asked.

‘No. Why?’

Hawthorne was glaring at me. He hated it when I took the initiative. But I plunged on anyway. ‘It was written on the wall in green paint,’ I explained. ‘Where the body was found.’

‘Why would anyone do that?’ Davina exclaimed.

‘Does it mean anything to you?’ Hawthorne asked.

‘The number? No! I can’t imagine . . .’ She searched randomly around her as if she might find an answer to the question among the pots and pans, then lit another cigarette.

‘Why do you have to smoke so much?’ Colin scolded her.

She glanced at him, suddenly angry. ‘I’ll smoke if I want to. It’s after six o’clock. It’s adult time.’ She blew smoke defiantly. ‘Have you finished your homework?’

‘No.’

‘Then you should be getting on with it. And then have a bath before bed.’

‘Mum . . .’ He spoke the word in the way that only an adolescent can.

‘One hour on the computer. Then I’ll come up and see you.’ He didn’t move so she glared at him. ‘Colin! Do as you’re told!’

‘All right.’ He had slumped into the seat and he somehow managed to slump out of it too. He didn’t say goodbye to us. He just nodded and went.

‘I know he’s right about the cigarettes but I hate him going on at me,’ Davina said, after he’d gone. She was more relaxed now. She helped herself to some more wine from the fridge, then stood, resting against the counter with the washing machine chugging away behind her. ‘And it hasn’t been easy for him this last week. He may not seem very upset but he was absolutely devastated when he heard the news.’ She had used the same word about herself. ‘He’s not going to show his feelings in front of you but I don’t want you to think he hasn’t got any.’ She drank and smoked. ‘It was awful for him when his father died and I’m not sure how we’d have got through it if it hadn’t been for Richard. He became a second father to him . . . and not just with expensive birthday presents. If Colin had problems – at school, for example – he’d sometimes go to Richard before he came to me. This term, for example, he was being bullied. You’d think he could look after himself, the size of him and all that, but he’s actually a very gentle boy and some of the others were picking on him. Richard sorted it out.’

‘Can you tell us what happened to his father?’ Hawthorne asked. ‘I understand there was an accident.’

‘Yes. To be honest, I don’t really like talking about it . . .’

‘I’m sure.’

She stood there with the clothes now silent, her glass in one hand, the cigarette in the other. She could see that Hawthorne wasn’t going to let go. ‘They used to go caving together,’ she said. ‘They’d been doing it since they were at university. That was where they met. They were at Oxford together. Richard, Charles and Gregory . . .’

‘Gregory?’

‘Gregory Taylor. He’s a finance manager. He lives in Yorkshire.’

That was the county where the accident had happened.

‘What did your husband do?’ Hawthorne asked.