Doomed to Die

by Dorothy Simpson

  Lineham invariably arrived at the office first, Thanet was never quite sure why. Was the sergeant an insomniac, or an early bird by nature? Was it simply that he loved his work (true) and couldn’t wait to get to his desk each morning? Or was it a need to get away from his family that drove him out of the house betimes each day?

  In any case, whenever Thanet arrived first as he did this morning he felt quite smug. Should he as a reward indulge himself in a pipe before Lineham arrived? Perhaps not. He had been trying to cut down lately and, besides, the sergeant hated pipe smoke. Lineham was bound to be upset at being – Thanet consulted his watch – yes, a good ten minutes late, without having to suffer what he claimed was near-asphyxiation.

  Thanet sat down and hunted through the stack of reports on his desk for the one on the PM. It wasn’t there. Perhaps Mallard intended to bring it up himself, later. There was nothing from forensic yet, either. He must remember to give them a ring.

  The door burst open.

  ‘What a moron!’ Lineham exploded. ‘Idiots like that should be put off the road, banned from driving!’

  ‘What’s the matter, Mike?’ Thanet could guess, in view of the weather conditions this morning. He himself had seen three cars at the side of the road with smashed wings and dented bumpers.

  ‘Why on earth can’t people keep their distance when the roads are icy? I could see this … this …’ Words failed him. Lineham hated swearing. ‘… this IDIOT behind me, driving much too close, but there’s nothing you can do except let cretins like that go past, and we were in a line of traffic, so I couldn’t. And of course, the car in front of me braked unexpectedly … I was all right, I was far enough away to slow down in time, but this moron …’ Lineham dropped into his chair and thumped his desk so hard with a clenched fist that the various objects on it jigged and rattled. ‘I could kill him!’

  Lineham had always been keen on cars and his Ford Escort was dear to his heart.

  ‘How much damage is there?’

  Thanet let him talk the incident out of his system. He knew he wouldn’t get much sense out of him otherwise. Eventually the sergeant wound down. ‘Sorry, I should have asked. How’s your mother-in-law?’

  ‘Better. They’re moving her out of intensive care and say the risk of a second attack should now be past.’

  ‘When’ll she be allowed home?’

  ‘Might even be today. We won’t know for certain until the doctor’s seen her this morning. She’s coming to us for a while. Joan’s going to take a few days’ leave.’

  ‘By the way, thank Joan for having that word with Louise, will you? She seems happier about things now.’

  ‘Actually, that was purely fortuitous. I hadn’t actually spoken to Joan about it.’

  ‘Well I’m grateful, anyway. It really helped her to know that someone like Joan had felt exactly the same. She’s already decided to take her advice and do some refresher courses.’ Lineham shook his head in mock despair. ‘I don’t know. Women! You can tell them things till you’re blue in the face and they don’t take a blind bit of notice. Then along comes some outsider – no offence meant, of course, sir – and there they are falling over themselves to do precisely what you were suggesting in the first place … Anything interesting come in overnight?’

  ‘Haven’t had a chance to find out yet.’

  A sheepish grin indicated that Lineham was back to normal. ‘I did get a bit carried away there. Sorry. But honestly …’

  Lineham looked all set to start sounding off all over again and Thanet had no compunction in interrupting.

  ‘Mike!’ He glanced at his watch. Eight-forty. ‘Look, it’s time to go down to the morning meeting.’ He handed the reports over to Lineham. ‘You’d better make a start on these, or we’re never going to get anywhere today. And give forensic a ring, find out what’s happening.’

  But the meeting was quickly over. Draco had rung to say he couldn’t make it and Tody took his place. It wasn’t until Draco was absent, Thanet thought, that you realised what a difference his presence made. Irritating he might be – infuriating, occasionally – but he did make the place hum, there was no doubt about that.

  Mallard arrived soon after he got back to the office. ‘What happened to your car, Lineham?’

  Lineham opened his mouth but Thanet held up his hand. ‘No. I absolutely refuse to hear it all again. Let’s just say someone ran into the back of it.’

  ‘Oh, bad luck.’ Mallard peered at Lineham over his half-moons. ‘You’re all right, though?’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. Wish I could say the same about my car.’

  ‘Good.’ Mallard turned back to Thanet. ‘Thought I’d just pop up with this.’ He handed over the report. ‘Not that there’s anything very startling in it. Asphyxiation, following a blow on the head, just as we thought.’

  ‘No ifs or buts?’

  ‘Perfectly straightforward.’

  ‘Not one single, minute revelation?’

  ‘None. Sorry. I heard about your mother-in-law, by the way, Luke. How is she?’

  Thanet once again gave a brief account of the situation.

  ‘If she’s over the first twenty-four hours the imminent danger should have passed. But I expect she’ll have to make some changes, as far as diet and exercise are concerned.’

  ‘So we gather. Doctor MacPherson’s going to have a chat with her and Joan this morning.’

  ‘Good. You make sure she follows his advice. The most important thing is that she shouldn’t regard herself as a permanent invalid.’

  ‘Not much likelihood of that, I shouldn’t think.’

  ‘And make sure you don’t treat her like one, either. So many people still think that if they’ve had a heart attack they’ve got to languish the rest of their lives away in an armchair.’ Mallard snorted. ‘Lot of nonsense. The more they keep their circulation going the better. Exercise is the answer, Luke, and you make sure she gets it. Plenty of exercise. When she’s had two or three weeks to recuperate, of course. But it’s important to start in a small way as soon as possible, and build up the programme.’

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll see she does as she’s told.’

  ‘Good. Anyway, how’s the case going?’

  ‘Slowly, as usual.’

  Mallard grinned and slapped Thanet on the shoulder. ‘Patience, Luke. Patience. The older you get the more you realise how important it is to cultivate it.’

  Thanet smiled back, remembering the years when Mallard’s short fuse had been notorious. ‘You’re an example to us all, Doc.’

  When Mallard had gone Thanet read through the post mortem report before handing it to Lineham. ‘He’s right. Doesn’t help at all. Did you get anywhere with forensic?’

  Lineham shook his head. ‘“Soon”, that’s all.’

  ‘I’ll believe that when I see it. Anything interesting in the other reports?’

  ‘Not really. The landlord of the Green Man confirms Mr Master’s story. He and Mrs Master arrived there at a quarter or ten to nine, stayed half an hour or so. He remembers them because they spent the whole time arguing. In the end she walked out, and he followed.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Nothing new there. ‘What about that supper safari the Broxtons’ neighbour suggested might be going on that night, to account for all the cars she heard?’

  ‘Not a whisper about that. I think we can take it there wasn’t one.’

  ‘So whose cars were they, I wonder? Anything else?’

  ‘Routine stuff, that’s all.’

  ‘Have you gone right through them?’

  ‘Just a few more.’

  ‘Pass a couple over.’

  A few minutes later Lineham said, ‘Mrs Broxton’s cleaning woman confirms the phone call Mr Master told us about. And …’ His tone suddenly changed and he sat up. ‘Listen to this. At around 9.15 on Monday morning she heard Mrs Master talking to someone called Howard on the telephone. She was arranging to meet him that evening.’

  The night she died. Swain had denied any s
uch meeting.

  Thanet held out his hand. ‘Let me see.’

  He skimmed the report. I heard Mrs Master say, ‘See you tonight, then. Soon after nine.’

  ‘He was lying,’ said Lineham with satisfaction. ‘I knew it.’

  And, as they had suspected, so was Mrs Swain. No doubt she and Swain had cooked up their mutual alibi between them.

  It was what they needed, the first discrepancy, their first break. It was only a small matter but enough to open up new lines of enquiry. If a case was static, it was dead. All the same, Thanet knew it was important not to get carried away. ‘Don’t read too much into it, Mike.’

  The phone rang. Bentley, who was doing the house-to-house enquiries in Wheelwright’s Lane.

  ‘Thought you’d want to know right away, sir. I’ve just interviewed a Mrs Marsh. She lives in one of the semidetached cottages opposite where Mr Master and the Swains live. Her neighbour, an old lady, is away visiting her son, but Mrs Marsh has got a baby who’s teething and she spent most of Monday evening in his bedroom walking about with him or sitting in the chair by the window, rocking him to try and get him off to sleep –’

  ‘The bedroom’s at the front?’

  ‘Yes. There was no light on in the room, she’d just left the door from the landing open, and she drew the curtains back because she was bored stiff. So she had a good view of the houses opposite.’

  ‘And?’ Thanet knew he was being impatient but couldn’t help himself. With any luck …

  ‘She says they all went out during the evening – Mr Master, Mr Swain and Mrs Swain.’

  ‘The Swains were together?’

  ‘No, they left separately. Mr Master left some time before them, between eight and half past, she thinks, and then Mr Swain, around nine. Mrs Swain followed immediately afterwards.’

  ‘Followed? You mean she got the impression that Mrs Swain was actually following her husband?’

  ‘Yes. She says that as soon as Mr Swain’s car had driven out, his wife came out immediately and went off in the same direction. Towards the village.’

  And thence to Melton? ‘If it was dark, how did she know which of them left first?’

  ‘She knows the cars and both the houses opposite have security lights which come on automatically as soon as anyone comes out of the front door and crosses the drive. She saw them quite clearly, she says.’

  ‘Did she see any of them come back?’

  ‘Mr Master got back at around 9.30. Then a bit later, around a quarter to ten she thinks, Mrs Swain got back.’

  ‘Before her husband?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She’s certain of that?’

  ‘Seems to be. Says Mr Swain arrived home about half an hour after his wife. Says all the coming and going livened up her evening no end.’

  Thanet could hear the smile in Bentley’s voice. ‘Well done, Bentley. Thanks for ringing in right away.’

  ‘I thought you’d want to know.’

  Thanet put the receiver down. ‘Did you hear all that?’ He recounted the conversation to Lineham.

  ‘A witness!’ said Lineham. ‘Terrific! It’s obvious, isn’t it? Mr Swain arranges to go over to Melton to see Mrs Master soon after nine. Mrs Swain guesses that’s where he’s going – where else would he be going at nine o’clock in the evening? –’

  ‘The pub?’ said Thanet.

  Lineham glared at him.

  ‘All right, sorry, Mike. Go on.’

  ‘– and decides to follow him.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because she’s curious to know where Mrs Master is? She’s a pretty forceful type isn’t she, Mrs Swain. Maybe she decided she wasn’t just going to sit back and let Mrs Master take her husband away without a fight. So she decides she’s going to tackle her. But she can’t if she doesn’t know where she is. She may even have asked her husband, but he refused to tell her. Anyway, the moment Mr Swain’s car has driven off she’s after him.’

  ‘And then?’

  Lineham paused. ‘I haven’t had time to think it through yet.’

  ‘So think it through now. Go back to the point when Master arrives at the Broxtons’.’

  ‘Well, let’s see. Mr Master claims he got there at 8.30. After the argument about whether his wife will go with him or not, he drags her into the car and then drives off. He blackmails her into agreeing to have a drink with him, on the basis that if she won’t he’ll just keep on driving and the children will be left alone for hours. They arrive at the Green Man in Melton around 8.45. At around nine Mr Swain leaves Nettleton, followed by his wife –’

  ‘If she did follow him, it would have been a bit tricky to avoid being spotted. The lanes around Melton aren’t exactly thronged with traffic at that time of night.’

  ‘That would have made it all the easier for her!’ said Lineham triumphantly. ‘She could have kept her distance, she’d have been able to see the glare of his headlights some way ahead. And if she didn’t actually get close enough for him to recognise the car – and as you pointed out earlier, it was dark – then she’d have been in no danger of him spotting her. After all, he’d have no reason to suspect he was being followed. I don’t suppose she made a habit of it.’

  ‘All right. So they’re both in Melton. He turns into the oast house, she presumably hangs back or drives past.’

  ‘Right. He knocks at the door, but Mrs Master is out at the pub with her husband, so he gets no reply.’ Lineham stopped, frowned. ‘This is where it gets complicated.’

  ‘Yes. Because if he did it, it must mean that he hung around until after she and Mr Master got back at – 9.20, was it?’

  Lineham was consulting his notebook. ‘Yes. Nine-twenty.’

  ‘Well, let’s say, for the sake of argument, that Master did exactly what he claims to have done, brought his wife back and then left. And let’s say Swain did hang about waiting in case she came back. He sees them arrive, watches Master leave, then knocks on the door …’

  Thanet paused, indicating that Lineham should continue the scenario.

  ‘She takes him into the kitchen,’ said the sergeant, ‘and, for whatever reason, they have an argument, some sort of scuffle and she slips, bangs her head on the corner of the table, passes out.’ He stopped, looking rueful. ‘And that’s where we come unstuck, isn’t it, sir? I agree, I just can’t see him putting that polythene bag over her head.’

  Thanet was shaking his head. ‘No, it just won’t work, will it? For one thing, I can’t really see why Perdita and Swain should have had an argument at all. Anyway, I don’t think he did go into the house.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Think, Mike! He’s her lover. They’ve arranged to meet. He’s hung around in the hope of seeing her and finally she gets back and he waits until her husband’s gone then she lets him in. Even if, for the sake of argument, we say he did kill her, I can’t see a disagreement blowing up to murderous proportions between them and his getting away, all in the space of ten minutes.’

  ‘Why ten minutes?’

  ‘Because that’s when Mrs Broxton gets home.’

  ‘But she didn’t go straight into the kitchen!’ said Lineham triumphantly. ‘She went upstairs because Henry was screaming.’

  Thanet frowned, ‘I’d forgotten that.’

  ‘She didn’t ring in to report finding the body until 9.40. So he would have had twenty minutes.’

  Thanet waved his hand irritably. ‘Ten minutes, twenty minutes, what’s the difference? It’s still not long enough. No, I don’t think he went in at all.’

  ‘But his wife might have!’ said Lineham. ‘Say Swain didn’t wait, say he gave up and left before the Masters arrived back. But say his wife didn’t.’

  ‘You mean she might have been so geared up to having it out with Mrs Master that now she’d found out where she was staying she was determined to sit it out, no matter how long she had to wait.’

  ‘Well, it would be quite in character, don’t you think, sir?’

  �
�Right. Say she did. Go on.’

  ‘Mrs Master arrives home. Henry couldn’t have been crying at that stage because if so she’d probably have picked him up and been carrying him when she answered the door to Mrs Swain. And she’d hardly then have taken him back up and plonked him in his cot while she talked to her, would she?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So when she came in she probably either popped up to reassure herself that the children were all right or went to the foot of the stairs and listened to see if either of them was crying. In any case, she then went into the kitchen to make herself a drink of Horlicks or something. She puts the milk on the stove and then hears someone knocking at the front door. Mrs Swain knows that Mrs Master is in because she saw her arrive back and she’s not going to give up easily. When she doesn’t get any response from ringing the bell she hammers on the door – that’s probably what woke Henry up, come to think of it. He might not have started crying immediately, so Mrs Master has taken her into the kitchen by the time he starts, and doesn’t hear him. Then they have the argument and everything happens just as we’ve suggested.’ Lineham looked at Thanet hopefully. ‘What d’you think, sir?’

  Thanet was looking for loopholes. ‘What about Mrs Broxton?’

  ‘It could all have been over by then. An awful lot can happen in ten minutes, or even five. Oh, I know what you said about ten or even twenty minutes not being long enough for a quarrel of these proportions to have blown up between Mr Swain and Mrs Master, and I tend to agree with you. They were lovers, after all. If she was going to break off with him she’d do it gently, lead up to it … But Mrs Swain is a different matter. She isn’t going to hang around making polite conversation, is she? So it happens just as we’ve said and then, just as it’s all over, Mrs Swain hears the front door slam. She realises she’s got to get away fast, and lets herself out through the back door … Of course! That would explain why it was unlocked!’

  ‘Could be … And it’s only a ten-minute drive to Nettleton, she could still have been home by a quarter to ten … But if it did happen like that, why did she get back before her husband?’