The Good Wife

by Jane A. Adams

  He paused only to kick the remnants of the flash bulb – still too hot to touch – beneath a convenient cabinet and then he switched off the lights and he left.

  He removed the jacket as soon as he left the basement, dropping it on a convenient chair, the scant disguise being no use to him now. He heard voices drifting from an adjoining corridor but saw no one and moments later was out in the daylight and walking back towards the road, camera stowed away once more in the capacious bag.

  Henry went alone to the Phillips’ house. If Mickey had been surprised that his boss should leave him behind to continue the search with these two local officers, he didn’t give any indication. Henry knew that Mickey usually mitigated what was often referred to as Chief Inspector Johnstone’s sharpness and lack of tact but, Henry thought, sometimes sharpness was exactly what was required to get answers.

  The maid at Dr Phillips’ house announced him to Nora, who told him that her husband wasn’t present, but if he’d come to see Dr Mason, well Clive was sitting in the garden reading a book.

  Henry told Nora he could find his own way but was aware that she stood watching him as he headed out of the French windows and into the garden. In some ways this house was just a larger version of that occupied by the Masons; it was as though a mirror image had been attached to the side of the Mason house and a duplicate built twice the size for the Phillipses.

  He found Dr Mason sitting beneath the shade of a tree in a folding canvas chair, not reading the book that he had laid on his lap. He looked up expectantly when he saw Henry. ‘You have news for me?’

  ‘Nothing that can tell you who killed your wife. I’m sorry, but we are no further with that yet. However, there are two items I wish to discuss with you. You know that your wife was in possession of one of these chainmail-type evening bags?’

  Dr Mason looked puzzled but nodded. ‘Yes, she rarely uses it because she complained that the links caught on her clothes. I suspect it was not the best quality. She bought it before we were married.’

  Henry frowned, suddenly diverted by a thought. ‘And you bought the bag that she had on the day at the races? The one with the butterfly clasp.’

  ‘I purchased that for her. It was a Christmas present, this last Christmas. I felt that she had gone without nice things for so long, while we were trying to build our business together, that she deserved something nice. Nora helped with the purchase. Why do you ask?’

  Henry didn’t answer directly, and instead said, ‘Are you aware that your wife liked to conceal money? I realize that this perhaps stems from some insecurity, and that you may be fully aware of this, but—’

  ‘Conceal money? I don’t think I know what you mean. I told you that she might have a five-pound note hidden in a handbag, just in case of emergencies, but—’

  ‘In fact, she had two concealed beneath the stiffening at the base of the bag. But we found a considerably greater amount in this little mesh bag. She had made a pocket in the lining – did she sew the lining of this herself?’

  Mason just looked confused now. ‘I believe so. Inspector, what is all this about? What money? My wife had no money of her own, and while I ensured that she had sufficient housekeeping and pin money, of course, she showed me the accounts weekly. I tallied them with my bank statement then gave these into her keeping. There is no way that she could have hidden something from me.’ He shook his head. ‘It is possible, of course, that she kept a little back from the housekeeping or that she kept a little back from her allowance, but it will only have been a little. We are less frugal than we have been, but we still must be careful if we are to pay all our bills. I have not been supported by others as has Ephraim. With the help of Nora’s family, he was able to buy a practice that mostly served wealthy elderly ladies and their various ailments, imagined or not. Ephraim’s main purchases for his pharmacy are the makings for sugar pills and nerve tonic. As for my own patients, many are working people who must save to see a doctor and do so only in extremis.’

  ‘And are you jealous of his good fortune?’

  Clive Mason looked shocked. ‘Of course not, he’s my friend. He and Nora have been good to us and he frequently directs patients my way – his practice becoming a little unwieldy, he rarely adds to his list these days.’

  ‘But no doubt, the less well-off patients,’ Henry observed.

  ‘Chief Inspector, what are you saying to me? My wife is dead, you should be getting to the bottom of that, not impugning a friend.’

  Abruptly, Henry changed tack. ‘Why did you not tell me that your wife was pregnant?’

  The colour completely drained from Clive Mason’s face. He stood up suddenly and then as suddenly sat down again and for a moment Henry thought that he was going to faint. This was not quite the reaction that Henry had expected.

  ‘She can’t have been pregnant.’

  ‘You mean you didn’t know? I thought doctors would have noted this sort of thing.’

  ‘No, she can’t have been. I don’t understand this. There must be a mistake. A cyst perhaps, though she had not complained of anything.’ He seemed genuinely at a loss.

  ‘The surgeon who examined her is perfectly competent. Your wife was pregnant. The duration of the pregnancy was between ten and twelve weeks, he believes, and yet you tell me that you did not know. Perhaps she confided in Mrs Phillips?’

  Clive Mason seemed to have difficulty in getting his breath. He was shaking his head in the most agitated fashion. ‘You don’t understand,’ he said. ‘Martha and I, we did not have that kind of marriage. We rarely even shared a bed, I usually slept in the study. I love my wife, deeply and dearly, but she knew from the very beginning that my inclination … my inclinations did not …’

  ‘Are you celibate? Or are you simply not interested in the fairer sex? Dr Mason, I will not be shocked by this – revelations of this kind are hardly new to me. I have met such perversions many times and I do not entirely disapprove of them. I have come to understand that some men are simply made that way.’

  Mason looked even more shocked but finally he nodded in acknowledgement. ‘I loved Martha, I love her still. I would do anything, give anything, to have her back beside me. But I had no idea that she was seeing someone else and certainly no idea that she was with child.’

  ‘And if she had told you?’

  ‘I suppose I would have been devastated. I’d like to think I would also have accommodated the fact. If she felt such need for a child, then … Inspector, I am aware that I may have been deeply unfair to this young woman who became my wife and who had all of the normal needs of her sex.’

  ‘And yet you still married her.’

  ‘I needed a wife. She needed to be a wife. I suppose at its simplest, Chief Inspector, we both needed the respectability of the marriage. And it worked for us – or at least I thought it did.’

  A small movement caught Henry’s eye and he realized that Nora was standing in the doorway and looking out at them. She was too far away to have heard their conversation, but she was looking concerned and a moment later she stepped aside and the maid came out with a tea tray and Nora followed with another chair.

  ‘I thought you might like some refreshments,’ Nora said brightly. She looked from one man to the other, realizing that something was going on that she didn’t know about and that it was serious. ‘Have you brought news, Inspector?’

  ‘Nothing that can improve the situation,’ Henry said. ‘Forgive me, Mrs Phillips, but I would prefer to speak to Dr Mason alone.’

  ‘The subject matter is not really for a woman’s delicate ears,’ Clive Mason said. He sounded hesitant and even to Henry didn’t sound as though he meant it, but Nora merely nodded and Henry decided that she was probably used to being excluded from male conversation.

  ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it then,’ she said.

  Henry sat down in the second chair. A little colour had returned to Clive Mason’s face and it was clear that Nora’s interruption had given him time to gather himself.
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br />   ‘And did you have relations outside of your marriage?’ he asked bluntly.

  Clive Mason closed his eyes. ‘If this gets out it will ruin me,’ he said.

  ‘I’m aware of that, Dr Mason. I have no wish to ruin anyone. You will not find me as virulent as many in my profession. Human frailty concerns me only when it harms others and just now I wish only to find out who killed your wife. If your proclivities have no bearing on that issue then no one will hear about them from me, or from my sergeant. If, however …’

  ‘I’ve had no relations outside my marriage, or at least not here. Occasionally I go down to London, or even to the south coast. I … indulge myself a little. I have friends of long-standing, who share my tendencies.’

  ‘And it was on one of these trips that you met your wife. How is it that she married you, understanding what you were? Or did you only tell her after you were safely married?’

  ‘I told her, but I don’t think she fully believed it. I think like many people she believed that the love of a good woman could cure me and in the first months of our marriage we both did try this … cure. I wanted to love her completely as a wife is entitled to be loved. In the end we realized that we must be content to be friends, married in every other way. Inspector, if she sought love elsewhere then I feel I have pushed her to it.’

  Henry nodded. ‘Most assuredly, I would think. Would she have believed that you might have accepted the child?’

  Clive Mason looked shocked and then shook his head. ‘I have no idea, though I suppose in order to avoid a scandal I might have done. That would hardly have been a good foundation for a happy home, would it.’

  ‘Like the foundations you have already laid,’ Henry said coldly. ‘Does Dr Phillips know your––’

  ‘No. I thought once that he might suspect, but it has never been discussed between us and I doubt he would allow me to stay in his house if he thought this were true. In his eyes, I might corrupt the innocent simply by my presence.’

  ‘And yet you are friends.’

  ‘And yet we are friends. I do not expect pity, Inspector, but we all must survive as best we can and most of us have things to hide.’

  ‘It seems you and your wife both did,’ Henry agreed. He stood. ‘I found two business cards in your wife’s effects. One for a solicitor and one for a private detective. What would she be doing with those?’

  The pallor returned to Clive Mason’s face and he shook his head violently. ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘It seems you have little idea about your wife at all. She had a gun, she concealed money from you, the source of which cannot be validated, she perhaps also sought the services of a solicitor and a private investigator. She was undoubtedly engaged in a romantic and sexual liaison. It seems to me, Dr Mason, that you knew almost nothing about your wife.’

  He paused, his hand resting lightly on the back of the chair, aware that Nora was watching from the window and that no doubt she would report back to her husband that Henry had upset their guest. Questions would be asked; he hoped Dr Mason was up to evading them. As he had assured the doctor, he had no desire for anyone’s ruination – provided they had not done harm to another, though he was aware that his views were out of kilter among those he worked with and that had another detective been called, Dr Mason would no doubt be about to face prosecution. Evidence would have been found, even if his affairs had been undertaken well away from home.

  ‘Your wife was a busy woman, with her committees and her good works, so it is most likely that whoever fathered the child is among your friends and acquaintances or among those with whom she served on these committees. Make me a list please, Dr Mason, of anyone, man or woman, with whom she was close or indeed that she chose to avoid.’

  Dr Mason looked puzzled. ‘Avoid?’

  ‘It is my experience that people often overcompensate when they are trying to hide an affair. They publicly avoid or even demean the other person in order to put others off the scent. Your wife was a clever woman from all accounts – it is quite possible that this is the course she took in order to conceal her affair. You can tell your hosts that I came only to inform you that your wife was pregnant – that will account for your obvious shock and devastation. Unless they were aware of the affair, they will have no reason to suspect that it is not your child she carried, and even if they suspect, they are hardly likely to tax you with their suspicions at this time. Add that I also sought a list of friends and acquaintances. Ask them to make the same so that we can crosscheck. It may be that Mrs Phillips is aware of friendships that you are not. In my experience, women often are and also in my experience women are often very conscious of when another strays.’

  Henry saw the look of gratitude in Dr Mason’s eyes and felt that Mickey would approve of his handling of this interview. The thought amused him. Henry had it within his gift to completely ruin the doctor but what good would that do? Henry had seen enough good men ruined and it was in his mind that Dr Mason was not a bad man, simply somewhat misguided.

  He took his leave then, pausing to tell Nora Phillips that the doctor had received more bad news and to ask her if she would make a list of friends and acquaintances and request that her husband should do the same as this would help with the investigation. Nora Phillips, eyes wide, nodded. ‘Martha was a popular woman,’ she said. ‘Everybody loved her.’

  Something in her tone caused Henry to pause, and he said, ‘Mrs Phillips, if there are any, what you might deem, inappropriate relations, you understand that you must still tell me about these. Sometimes even happily married women can be led into temptation. No one is immune to foolishness.’

  She looked shocked. ‘That is a ghastly thing to suggest,’ she said. ‘But Martha was a very beautiful woman and sometimes … sometimes people try their luck, I suppose you might say.’

  ‘And did someone try their luck with Martha?’

  Nora was retreating quickly from even this vague statement. She blushed and was relieved when one of the children came running into the hallway to find her. ‘I will give it thought, Inspector,’ she said as she took the child’s hand and allowed herself to be led away. The maid saw Henry to the door, eyes downcast, and Henry wondered what she had overheard. ‘And are you in agreement that everyone loved Mrs Mason?’ he asked bluntly.

  The girl coloured violently. ‘Sir, I’m sure I have no opinion on that.’

  ‘Of course you do,’ Henry told her. ‘My sergeant and I are staying at the Saracen’s Head, should you wish to give that opinion air.’

  She would not look at him as he moved past her to the door. He could see that she was genuinely shocked that he should even speak to her like that. She stared at the floor, her body rigid, her demeanour radiating something that Henry thought might be disgust.

  He wondered if she would tell her mistress.

  Henry was driven back to Dr Mason’s house, where the search continued. He noted that it was past two in the afternoon and that no doubt Mickey would be telling him that it was time they all took a break. He decided that he and Mickey should go back to the hotel and have a late lunch there and also discuss what Henry had discovered. They had yet to talk about the letters that Henry had read the night before, the contacts from the address books and the appointment diary.

  This murder, Henry thought, was never going to be simple, happening as it did in a place where witnesses were not likely to come forward, the population on race day being by its very nature a transient one. The one thing in their favour was that the victim of this murder happened to a woman that everyone accepted was a good wife, and model citizen, and that might well bring witnesses forward. Henry decided that they could cultivate the local press, allow them to create a mood of outrage and anxiety that would serve to encourage ‘decent’ people to come forward, one of their own having been brutally killed, there being a hierarchy to victimhood as there was in every other aspect of society.

  Personally Henry doubted there was any such thing as a model citizen or anyone without somet
hing to hide – he agreed with Dr Mason on that – but in this particular case it also seemed there were more possibilities for the perpetrator of this murder and more reasons for it than had first appeared.

  SIX

  Mickey had left Sergeant Emory and his constable to continue with the search that he was increasingly thinking would now be fruitless. They had found the things that were important and Mickey had obtained fingerprints – two very clear prints, in fact, just where he expected them to be, on the handle of the French windows. They would have to obtain elimination fingerprints from Dr Mason, and from the daily maid who worked for the household, and also from Mrs Mason’s body, but Mickey was willing to bet that these were from whoever had tried to break into the house.

  ‘Of course, that’s no help to us unless they have a record,’ Mickey said.

  They had returned to the hotel and had sandwiches and coffee sent to Henry’s room, this being the larger of the two bedrooms, and Henry had explained to Mickey all that he had learnt from Dr Mason and almost learnt from Nora.

  Mickey shook his head. ‘It’s a bad business,’ he said, ‘no matter how you look at it, and I do pity men like Dr Mason. The acting profession of course gives shelter to many and Belle has introduced me to a number, over the years, of perfectly decent men who have sadly been born with this problem. And I do believe people are born with it, there is nothing can be done to change their minds or to change their inclinations.’

  Mickey’s wife, Belle, was a successful actress who travelled frequently with her company. Henry nodded. ‘And I’m inclined to believe here that it may well have been a cause of problems in their marriage, but not of the murder. Unless you take it that the man with whom she was having the affair is the murderer and that she would not have had the affair had her husband been otherwise more attentive in the marriage bed. But even in marriages where this is not a complication, husbands and wives go astray and for a variety of reasons. I think you would have been proud of me, Mickey, I offered my commiseration and I do not believe I was too harsh in the questioning of the man. I don’t suspect him, at this stage, in being in any way engaged in the death of his wife. The look on the man’s face, Mickey, even I could read that amount of grief.’