Alex smiled. ‘You wouldn’t be trying to teach me my job, would you, Martha,’ he murmured.
She laughed too. ‘It might sound like it,’ she said, ‘but I know you would have done all these things anyway. I was simply encouraging you.’
Randall was quiet for a moment then he spoke softly. ‘You’re wasted being a coroner,’ he murmured. ‘You should have joined the force. You’d be a commander by now.’
She laughed out loud then. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘It’s not the way I would liked to have gone. I enjoyed studying medicine and I wouldn’t want to be anything but a coroner. But, oh dear, Alex,’ she said with feeling. ‘What a tragedy. That poor woman.’
‘Exactly. Is it OK if we move it to the mortuary?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Move it.’ She hesitated. ‘No note, you say?’
‘No.’
‘Shame. It might have provided us with some answers.’
‘Yes. And saved some time.’
‘So who or what or when is in the frame now?’
He chuckled. ‘Are you sure you’re awake enough for this?’
‘I am now.’
‘Well, in the time frame we’re talking about, i.e. the last five to eight or so years there are the three families involved. The Sedgewicks who are probably out of the picture unless they brought the baby’s body with them when they moved house, which is unlikely. But if the baby had been kept in a warm, dry environment and the body was moved straight from one to the other, even possibly refrigerated during the move, it is possible. The most suspicious thing about them is Alice Sedgewick’s odd behaviour. And now, of course, there is her suicide which points to an unsound mind.’ He paused. ‘I might suspect a guilty conscience if she hadn’t thought the child was a girl. She didn’t seem duplicit enough to use that to throw us off the scent.’
‘Go on.’
‘Then there are the Godfreys.’
‘You haven’t said much about them.’
‘No, because apart from them being pretty objectionable people I can’t really see where they could possibly fit into the greater picture. She says she’s never been pregnant. They haven’t got any children and don’t appear to want any. She doesn’t even like children.’
‘And you think the person who did this to the newborn liked children, Alex?’
He was initially silent, but finally spoke. ‘I see where you’re coming from, Martha, but…’ Then resuming his subject he added, ‘And then there is old Mrs Isaac and her family who fit even less into the picture.’
She interrupted him then. ‘Alex, it’s a bit early. Do you know what time the post-mortem’s scheduled for?’
‘Not yet, Martha. I’m hoping Mark will fit it in some time today.’
‘Hmm. I’m going to have to talk to Aaron Sedgewick,’ she said. ‘Preferably as soon as possible after the post-mortem.’
A suicide, she was thinking. Like Finton Cley’s father. Only this time there was no note so the verdict could be questioned. That was why she was so insistent that Alex Randall check on Aaron Sedgewick’s movements the night his wife died.
‘Have you any plans to interview him?’
‘At some point, yes. I’ll have to, Martha.’
‘You know,’ she hesitated. ‘If you want my advice you’ll do that sooner rather than later.’
‘Thank you for that, Martha.’ She knew he was smiling as he spoke.
‘And now having done half a day’s work, I suppose I’d better get out of bed,’ she said. ‘See you later.’
Alex rang Mark Sullivan as early as he could – at nine o’clock – and asked whether the post-mortem on Alice Sedgewick could be held first thing as he was anxious to proceed with the investigation. It was imperative that a police officer be present in case samples were taken and, partly spurred on by Martha’s advice, Randall wanted to be absolutely certain that Alice had died by her own hand. As he drove in he considered another explanation. Mrs Sedgewick had come over to him as a vulnerable woman. Why, was more difficult to work out. She had two children who seemed superficially to have done well. She was married, had a lovely home and yet she was vulnerable and he simply couldn’t work out why. Alex Randall was a policeman – perhaps more tuned in to people’s feelings than most – but still primarily a policeman. To him Mrs Sedgewick seemed vulnerable enough for him to imagine her being coerced or persuaded into taking her own life. She appeared someone who would listen to a stronger voice. Alex frowned, his hands gripping the steering wheel. Why did he have the feeling that he had just expressed a significant statement of fact? He tried to go over what he had just voiced but a silver Citroën cut him up at the roundabout and he lost his train of thought.
Damn.
Mark Sullivan was already wearing his scrubs and long waterproof apron when he arrived. ‘Thought I’d save time,’ he said cheerily to Alex. ‘I’ll get Peter to wheel her in.’
As was the usual practice, Alice Sedgewick was still fully clothed in a dark skirt and blouse, no shoes and no stockings. There was the usual procedure of weighing the body and the initial examination. Then Sullivan inserted a gloved finger into her mouth. Even Alex could see the remains of tablets semi-dissolved, still not swallowed. ‘Apparently she had them on prescription from a private psychiatrist,’ Sullivan said disapprovingly. ‘She’d been treated for depression and intractable insomnia for a number of years.’
Alex looked up. ‘How many years?’
‘Three, four.’ Sullivan was absorbed in removing Alice’s clothes and dropping them into the bag Roddie Hughes was holding out for him.
‘Who by?’
Mark Sullivan looked up. ‘Sorry?’
‘Who’d been treating her?’
‘Oh, a private psychiatrist named Richmond. Alan Richmond. He’s a very well thought of chap hereabouts. He’s treated my own wife.’
‘Really?’
Sullivan bent back over his work. ‘With very limited success I have to say. But still – you can’t win them all.’
‘Indeed not.’ They both looked at the sad figure of Alice Sedgewick, laid bare now and Randall added quietly, ‘Especially as it would seem that it was he who prescribed the fatal medicine.’
Mentally he was tacking yet another thing to his list. Phone Dr Richmond. He was surprised the doctor hadn’t come forward to offer some information about the dead woman. If he had she might not be dead now. He would almost certainly be called as a witness to the inquest.
Half an hour later Mark Sullivan gave him his initial findings. ‘No marks at all on the body. Amylobarbitone is rapidly absorbed but I’d say she took a fatal dose of a barbiturate together with alcohol some time yesterday evening. He looked across. ‘No note, you say?’
‘No.’
‘Shame that. It might have helped. Still my instinct is that this poor woman committed suicide.’ He glanced across at the body. ‘She probably saw the headlines in the newspaper and that was that. Whatever had gone on before it tipped her over the edge. You want me to phone Martha?’
‘Don’t worry – I’ll do it. I suppose you’d better get on with the rest of your work now. Thanks, Mark.’
Sullivan smiled. ‘Yes – like an undertaker – never short of customers.’
FOURTEEN
Randall rang Martha at home and gave her the results of the post-mortem.
‘Much as we’d suspected,’ she commented. ‘There was no sign of trauma around her mouth, anywhere on her body?’
‘No.’
‘Was a copy of the newspaper found at the house?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Obviously the team who originally attended the scene took a quick look round but as this didn’t appear to be a suspicious death I haven’t ordered a full blown forensic search.’
‘That makes sense.’
‘But even if she didn’t have a newspaper, Martha, she could still have heard about the finding of the bones on the local news on the radio or the television or even seen it on a newspaper hoarding,’
he pointed out. ‘Or…’ He stopped. ‘Someone could have rung her.’
‘That’s true,’ she said. ‘Have you anyone in mind?’
‘It’ll be difficult to prove.’
‘You know me, Alex,’ she said. ‘I like it neat and tidy. If someone had rung to tell Alice about the bones being found it would have been a malicious act. Someone who was not a friend.’
‘Most definitely not,’ he agreed.
‘Anything else?’
Randall hesitated. ‘I’m going to have to speak to Aaron Sedgewick at some point,’ he said. ‘I’d like you in on it. It might help you decide on your verdict,’ he added by way of a sweetener.
‘You know I can’t attend in person, Alex,’ she said. ‘It would be considered prejudicial. But I can watch from behind the one-way mirror.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’ He paused. ‘Of course with this being a suicide case I can’t order him down to the station. I can only invite him.’
Alex Randall dreaded having to face Aaron Sedgewick again. He was convinced the man would hold him and the police investigation responsible for his wife’s death. So when he connected with Sedgewick he was fully prepared for a battle. But to his surprise Sedgewick was relatively polite over the phone. Randall had fully expected that Aaron Sedgewick would want to be in control and had offered to interview him at his home but no, Sedgewick was adamant he would attend the police station. ‘If you don’t mind,’ he said angrily, ‘I’ve had quite enough of the police poking around my house. I can’t see why you feel the need to speak to me at all, particularly when I am so obviously busy with my family problems but if you insist and it means I can bury my dearest wife…’ There was a break in his voice which almost convinced Alex Randall that the man was genuinely grieving. Almost but not quite. It was the first time he had heard the man express any affection towards his wife. His main feeling towards her had seemed to be one of irritation.
‘What time do you want me?’
‘As soon as possible.’ Randall paused. ‘Let’s get it over and done with, sir.’
‘I’ll be down within half an hour although I want it registered that I consider it a gross intrusion by the police at a very difficult time for me.’
Fine, Alex thought as he put the phone down. Just fine.
He rang Martha straightaway and was not surprised when she agreed to witness the interview from behind a one-way mirror. He was looking forward to hearing her observations.
It was six p.m. by the time the three of them were assembled, Martha stationed behind the one-way mirror. Randall found Aaron Sedgewick in more of a state of shock than he had expected. He arrived looking pinched and pale and very tired. Unexpectedly Alex felt some pity for him – an emotion he never would have thought he could have applied to Aaron Sedgewick. He sat him down in the interview room and offered him some coffee.
Once they were seated he explained the purpose of inviting him down. ‘This is an informal interview,’ he began. ‘There are no charges. I simply need to explain to you the findings of the post-mortem and to clarify one or two points.’ He met Sedgewick’s eyes. ‘I apologize for the intrusion but you must understand we, the police, have a job to do. Your wife’s death is unexplained.’ He paused. ‘As yet.’
Immediately Sedgewick began to bluster. The détente was over. ‘What do you mean, unexplained? It’s obvious what happened. The police have been harassing her since she took that horrible thing up to the hospital. God knows why she did that but that is what she did. My wife…’ He looked around hopelessly, crumpling before Randall’s eyes. ‘My wife is… was…’ he corrected, ‘a very fragile woman.’
‘Why?’ Randall asked bluntly.
‘There is no why,’ Sedgewick snapped. ‘She just was. That’s the only why. It was her mental make-up, if you like.’
‘So you would not be surprised if she had committed suicide?’
‘No.’ Sedgewick frowned thoughtfully. ‘Not really. Alice was a vulnerable woman.’
Randall pressed on. ‘But you understand that without a letter of explanation we don’t know exactly what happened, what state of mind she was in, what finally tipped her over the edge. After all – it’s a week since her visit to the Royal Shrewsbury and she seemed to be coping well.’
Sedgewick leaned forward, a fire burning in his eyes. ‘Isn’t it bloody obvious what tipped her over the edge? This ridiculous hounding of our old property. Yesterday you found some bones.’
Alex felt himself grow hot with embarrassment. ‘They were animal bones.’
‘Right.’ If anything, Aaron Sedgewick’s eyes blazed even more furiously. ‘You are telling me,’ he said speaking very slowly and deliberately, ‘that my wife probably committed suicide over a few animal bones?’
‘If that’s why she did it,’ Randall admitted. ‘We can’t know for sure, Mr Sedgewick, without a note.’ Alex had put the ball neatly right back into Mr Sedgewick’s court but Aaron wasn’t about to give up. ‘Why on earth did you have to dig up that wretched patio?’
‘It was a necessary part of our investigation.’
‘But why make it public?’
Randall felt bound to defend himself. ‘We didn’t, deliberately. Unfortunately the story leaked out and we had no control over what was printed.’
‘If you say so,’ Sedgewick said wearily.
‘You know a post-mortem was performed on your wife this morning?’
Sedgewick winced.
Alex ploughed on. ‘I’m sorry to have to inform you that it appears your wife took her own life using a mixture of barbiturates, which she had been prescribed by a doctor, along with alcohol. Did she give you any clue that this was her intention?’
‘No. Not when I last saw her.’
‘Which was? Just for the record?’
‘I left for Leicester on Tuesday night,’ he said. ‘She seemed quiet, a little withdrawn but I wasn’t worried about her.’ He looked up. ‘If I had been I would not have gone on a business trip. You understand?’
Alex nodded. ‘Your wife has appeared extremely disturbed by recent events.’
‘Well – wouldn’t your wife be just a little troubled by this?’
Alex’s face darkened. Had Sedgewick been observant he would have seen the inspector’s face twist with pain. But Aaron Sedgewick was noticing nothing. Martha, however, didn’t miss it. She watched Alex Randall as he regained control of himself and continued.
‘When did you last speak to your wife, Mr Sedgewick?’
Martha leaned forward to catch Sedgewick’s words.
‘Yesterday morning. She sounded well. And Acantha keeps an eye on her, of course.’
‘And you haven’t found a note somewhere in the house?’
‘No.’
There had been, Martha thought, the very slightest of hesitations. To such a simple question?
It seemed Alex had picked up on something too because he went over the point again, carefully. ‘Not addressed to you or your daughter – or your son – or even Mrs Palk? The two seemed close.’
‘No,’ Sedgewick said, deliberately aggressive. ‘I said no. That’s the truth. If she did, as you say, deliberately take a fatal dose of her tablets, she must have done it on impulse.’ He frowned and looked up. ‘How can you know she did it deliberately? It’s pure supposition on your part. You can’t possibly know. It could have been an accident.’ His face changed, became softer. ‘Maybe she had a bit to drink and forgot how many tablets she’d already taken.’ He obviously liked this explanation. His face relaxed.
But Alex was not going to let him off the hook. ‘Did your wife have a drink problem?’
Sedgewick wasn’t quite sure how to answer this question. ‘Not a drink problem,’ he said slowly. ‘But sometimes she had a little more than was wise. It made her rather emotional. Shall we leave it at that?’ With an effort he lifted his eyes up to meet Alex’s. Martha knew that this admission had cost Sedgewick something.
Randall thought for a minute then nodded hi
s head slowly. ‘Without a note I have no option but to agree.’ He met Sedgewick’s eyes. ‘Had there been a note it might have provided some explanation of her actions last week. I suppose it’s possible that your wife did not mean to kill herself. In which case we can discuss the circumstances with the coroner and possibly have an accidental death verdict. We may even be asked to look into the impact of our investigation, together with the effect the newspaper story would have had on her already fragile mental state.’
Martha smiled. Randall was well used to her advising him on his job. This was the first time he had directed her. She concentrated on listening to the interview.
‘Do you know whether your wife knew about the discovery of the bones at Bayston Hill?’
‘I don’t know,’ Sedgewick said, ‘but I would have thought it highly probable. It was even on the TV.’ Then as suddenly as a flash of lightning Sedgewick found his temper again. ‘Why didn’t you just leave things alone, inspector? Why did you have to go digging up the past, searching for something you were never going to find, digging up the patio of our old house, making us look so guilty when you must have known we can’t have had anything to do with the death of that thing?’
Alex leaned forward, his face steely. ‘We have to investigate the death of the child, Mr Sedgewick.’
‘But it had nothing to do with us. My wife simply came across the body.’
‘Right.’ Alex Randall shuffled some papers. ‘Well, I’ll share with you some of the anomalies which have bothered us and made us suspicious of you. Can you explain the presence, in your house, of a room specifically decorated for a child when you have no children, no grandchildren and, according to Mrs Sedgewick’s previous statement, no children stay with you? Why have a room for a child that doesn’t exist?’
Sedgewick had his answer polished and ready. ‘She was one of those women who looked forward to the day when she would have grandchildren. And of course, she had an interest in the doll’s house.’
Frozen Charlotte Page 19
