by M A Comley
“Please, Mr and Mrs Cruise, can we not do this, today of all days? What about putting Geraldine first? She’s going to need your support to get through this. Her husband has just died. She’ll need you to help with the arrangements for his funeral.”
Geraldine’s parents had the decency to look embarrassed.
“Ruth’s right, Ted. We should stop squabbling and put our daughter first. Shall we call a temporary truce?”
Ted Cruise glared at his wife and then offered a reluctant nod. “Deal. But this conversation will be revisited in a week or so, I can guarantee you that, Valerie. Something has to change. I can’t stand things as they are.”
Valerie closed her eyes and nodded. When she opened them again, Ruth could tell she was trying hard to hold back the tears threatening to fall. Before she had a chance to whip Valerie away from her alcoholic husband, the door to the room the police were using to interview people opened, and a shocked-looking Geraldine emerged in a daze.
Ruth rushed across the room and flung an arm around Geraldine’s shoulders. “Are you all right? You look in shock, lovely. Anything I can do?”
“Get me to a chair.”
“Of course.” Ruth guided Geraldine to the edge of the room, close to the door, and helped her into a vacant chair. She sat beside her, gathering her hands in her own. Her best friend’s hands were freezing, despite the temperature being in the high twenties. Ruth rubbed at them, trying to transfer some of her warmth. “What’s wrong, Geraldine? You have to tell me.” The door to the interview room opened again, and DS Kenton walked towards her. “What have you said to her? I demand to know.”
“Nothing. We simply asked a few questions pertinent to the case. If you’d care to join us, Miss Morgan.”
“What? Now? You’ll have to wait until I make sure my friend is all right.”
“Someone else can sit with her. Aren’t they her parents?” He pointed over to where Geraldine’s warring parents were sitting.
“Yes, but they’re indisposed at the moment.” Ruth frantically turned to search for James. “James, can you do me a favour and sit with Geraldine? They want to see me.” James hurried across the room to be with her and sat in the seat next to Geraldine. “I won’t be long, and then we’ll get you out of here, Geraldine.”
“Yes, I want to go home. I need to go home,” Geraldine pleaded, her voice catching on a sob.
“When you’re ready,” the young DS prompted.
Walking towards the room, mixed emotions filled Ruth. She was struggling to keep her anger in check after the way Geraldine had left the room, but she knew it was imperative that she do just that. She’d never liked coming face to face with the inspector before. There was just something about her attitude that rubbed her up the wrong way. Calm down, try and keep her onside. I need to do that for Geraldine’s sake.
Inspector Littlejohn was sitting erect behind a desk. Kenton shut the door and took his position standing alongside her. “Sit down, Miss Morgan,” the inspector ordered.
“Will this take long? Only I’d like to take care of Geraldine. Whatever you said to her has obviously had a profound effect on her.”
“It will take as long as necessary. The quicker you answer the questions, then the quicker you can get back to your friend.”
Ruth sat, remaining on the edge of her seat, her hands in her lap and her thoughts still with Geraldine. “Fire away.”
“Did you see Mr Sinclair before his death?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course I saw him, this was his wedding day. He married my best friend, in case you’re unaware.”
“I’m aware. I meant just before his death. I’m fully aware of what day it is.”
“He was mingling with his guests. I might have spotted him here and there.”
“How long have you known him?”
“About five years all told.”
The inspector nodded and wrote something down in her notebook. “Did you get on with him?”
“Why? Where is this leading?”
“Answer the question, Miss Morgan,” Kenton said, his tone harsh, as if he were speaking to an unruly drunk after kicking out time.
“Of course I got on with him, he was Geraldine’s boyfriend, erm…husband.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“Are you serious? What type of question is that in the circumstances?”
“I’d call it a pertinent one, Miss Morgan,” Littlejohn insisted, her tone clipped.
Ruth let out an exasperated breath. “Moments before you arrived. He was facedown on the gravel, his neck broken by the look of it.”
“Why do you always have to be so acerbic?”
“I don’t know, why do you think?” It hadn’t taken them long to enter into their usual battle of wills.
“This is getting us nowhere. Either you answer my questions properly, and without any further sarcasm on your part, or we’ll take you back to the station to conduct our enquiries.”
That’s told me. Okay, we’ll do things your way for now, Janice.
“I want to know what you said to upset Geraldine so much.”
“We merely asked her some questions about her husband. Oh, we also might have told her that we were treating this enquiry as a murder investigation, too.”
Ruth’s tired eyes flew open. “Murder enquiry? On what grounds?”
“On the grounds that, contrary to what all you guests believe about the man’s death, we believe he was pushed.”
“What? How can you even say that?”
“We have our reasons behind thinking along those lines. Now, shall we start this interview again from the top?”
“You can try. My answers won’t alter from the ones I’ve given you already. Murdered? Who’d have thunk it?”
“Who indeed? Again, I’m asking you to cast your mind back a little. After the wedding, did you see the groom, before he fell to his death?” the inspector added quickly, anticipating that Ruth would pounce on her wayward wording again.
“No. Everyone was busy milling around after we’d eaten. The last time I saw him was when he was raising a toast to his new wife in the marquee.”
“What time was that?”
Ruth puffed out her cheeks, contemplating her answer. “Around an hour before his death, I suppose. I can’t give you a specific time because, in my book, it would be rude to stand at a wedding checking my watch every few seconds. I’m sure you’d feel the same, right?”
“Okay, I’ll give you that one. Did you notice Mr Sinclair having words with anyone?”
Ruth’s shoulders hunched forward. “You’re going to think I’m being sarcastic when I say this, but I’m truly not; he ‘had words’ with a lot of people, it was his wedding. He circulated the room just like Geraldine did.”
“I’m glad you raised your friend’s name. Do you think she had any reason to kill off her husband?”
Gobsmacked by the inspector’s ridiculous suggestion, she shook her head vehemently. “What a dumb question. Why on earth would she go through all the trouble and expense of organising a wedding, her wedding, if her intention was to kill him directly after the ceremony had taken place? What about the honeymoon?”
“What about it?”
“Have you checked if they were both booked on the flight? Surely if you had you wouldn’t be asking such inane questions.”
“We’ve yet to look into the ins and outs of everything. As I said, we’re simply asking questions that we feel are pertinent to our enquiry at this stage. Now, can you think of a reason why Geraldine would want to kill her husband?”
“No, not in the slightest. Not in a million, trillion years—does that emphasise my point enough?”
“A little excessively I’d say. All right then, can you think of anyone attending the reception who could do this to Mr Sinclair?”
“No. Not that I go around trying to read people’s minds. I’m still at a loss to know how you think he was pushed to his death and didn’t merely
fall.”
“This is getting us nowhere. I thought you of all people would be willing to help us with our enquiries. I suppose I was wrong about that. Understandable, given what’s gone on in the past between us.”
“That has nothing, nothing to do with this. If Bradley was murdered, and that’s a big if, then of course I would want to know who did it and why. If only for Geraldine’s sake. Look at it from her point of view. She’s spent the last five years planning this wedding. At the last minute, her father pulled the plug on the funding side of things and she’s ended up footing the bill herself. Do you seriously think after going through all that effort, that at the first opportunity presented to her, she would push her husband off the turret? That’s absolutely absurd.”
“Is it? Maybe that’s what a lot of people would think. Maybe this was her way of shifting the blame from herself.”
Ruth shook her head slowly. “You’re sick if you believe that.”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“I think you’re not only barking up the wrong tree but you’re in the totally wrong forest. Okay, think about this for a moment if you will. If a wife is going to bump off her husband, wouldn’t she at least have bothered to have insured him first? Otherwise, what would be her motive for killing him right after they had exchanged vows?”
Kenton glanced at the inspector, and she turned to face the sergeant, chewing on her bottom lip as if Ruth’s words had sunk in and set her mind racing.
“You might have a valid point. If she didn’t do it, then who else could have killed him?”
“That, my dear inspector, is your job to find out.”
“What about her parents?”
Ruth shrugged. “What about them?”
“Do you think either of them are likely to have pushed him?”
“No, again, what would their motive be?”
“We’ll see. They’re the next two people I want to interview.”
“Crap, do you have to do that today?”
The inspector’s head tilted a little. “Is there a specific reason why you think I should delay that?”
“For a start, I believe Mr Cruise is slightly inebriated, so you won’t get much sense out of him, and secondly, I believe Mrs Cruise has been traumatised enough by today’s events.”
“By the wedding?”
“No, not as such. I recently overheard her telling Mr Cruise that she intends seeking a divorce.”
“On her daughter’s wedding day?”
“Apparently, weddings can bring out the worst in people, if the groom being killed is anything to go by.”
“So, who do you think is guilty of pushing him?”
Ruth cradled her chin between her finger and thumb. “Again, I can’t for the life of me think of anyone who would want to kill him. Is there anything else? Only I’d like to get back to Geraldine. The shock must be traumatic for her.”
“You’re dismissed on the proviso that we can drop in at any time to question you further.”
“Of course.”
Ruth started to stand and stopped midway when the inspector added, “Oh, and I’d ask you to keep your distance on this one. Any interference on your part, and I’ll have no hesitation in banging you up in a cell.”
“For what? The last I heard, we were living in a free country. Has that changed recently? If so, I was unaware any new laws had come into force.”
The inspector shook her head, her anger glinting in her dark-brown eyes. Kenton stepped around the desk and showed Ruth out of the room without the inspector uttering another word. Ruth couldn’t help doing an imaginary strike in the air in her mind. Idiot. When will she learn to be a proper detective and detect things rather than spending most of her time clutching at straws?
Geraldine was still being comforted by James when she left the room. “Hello, you. How are you feeling?”
“Did they tell you?”
Ruth nodded.
James frowned. “Tell you what? What am I missing here?”
She turned to look over her shoulder. Then, once she saw that Kenton wasn’t standing behind her listening to their conversation, she told him, “The police reckon that Bradley was pushed.”
James let out a long whistle. “No way. Who would do such a thing? On his bloody wedding day as well?”
She pleaded with her eyes for him to lower his voice so the other people in the room didn’t hear.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” Ruth replied, thrusting her shoulders back with determination.
“Would you, Ruth, please, for me?” Geraldine beseeched her.
Placing her hands onto Geraldine’s, she nodded. “And it won’t cost you a penny. This one is on me, love. We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise you.”
Now, if only I can get up to the turret to have a look around.
Chapter 4
Ruth was disappointedly turned away from the turret by the officer on guard. Not long after, she suggested to James that they should take Geraldine back to their house with them.
“I’m fine. Please don’t fuss. I’ll go back home with Mum and Dad. I don’t want to put you two to any bother.”
“Are you sure?” Ruth asked, unsure how her friend was going to cope once she was back at the house, the home she’d shared with Bradley for the past five years.
“I’m sure. Don’t worry about me. I could do with some time alone to go over things in my mind. I’m exhausted with all the planning I’ve had to do with the wedding and now, in the next few days, I’ll have a funeral to arrange.”
“Look, love, you don’t have to go through this alone. James and I will help where we can.”
Geraldine smiled wearily. “No, I need you to concentrate on finding the person responsible for killing him, Ruth. Please, that has to be your priority. Promise me you won’t let me down on that front?”
“I promise. If you’re sure? If you change your mind, just call us. I’ll ring you later, make sure you’re all right.”
“Please, can you leave it for the rest of the day? I don’t even want to see Mum and Dad, but they’re staying with me; it’s going to be hard shutting them out. It’s something I need to do, though. I need peace and quiet to reflect. It’s been such a whirlwind of a day. A new bride one minute and a widow the next. How could you ever explain that to a stranger? I’m tired, I just want to curl up like a cat on my bed. I’ll probably bawl my eyes out once I’m at home. I refuse to do it here, in front of those left behind. I don’t care if they think of me as a hard cow.”
“No one would dare think of you as that, love. Everyone grieves differently. Don’t you worry about what other people might think, you just do what’s right for you, you hear me?”
“Thank you, Ruth. I’m such a lucky girl to have someone as dear as you as my closest friend.”
“Nonsense. I’d never let you down at such a heartbreaking time. Will you ring me if you need to chat? Day or night, it makes no odds to me.”
“I will. Thank you for everything you’ve done so far. I meant what I said about paying you. I need to know what happened and why someone felt they had to take Bradley’s life, today of all days.”
“We’ll see. I mean, yes, I’m willing to help you to find out that information. What I meant to say was that I don’t want to be paid for it. Think of it as a gift from me.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to do it for no money at all. We’ll chat about this more once I’ve had a rest and tried to put things into perspective.” Fresh tears welled up.
Ruth reached for her and grasped her in a loving hug. “You’ll be fine. I promise you I will get to the bottom of this.”
Sniffling, Geraldine pulled away and nodded. “Thank you. I’d better see if the police have finished with Mum and Dad now, or maybe I should go home alone. What do you think?”
Ruth glanced over her shoulder to see only Mrs Cruise sitting there. “I can run you home. I think your father is still being interviewed.”
“You�
��re a treasure. Thank you.”
Ruth went in search of James to tell him she was leaving. He said he had a few more people to say cheerio to before he could leave and that he would see her back at the house.
The journey into town was full of sighs and a comfortable silence between them. Ruth had said everything that needed to be said. Geraldine was aware that their friendship would enter new territory going forward, during the search for the truth.
When she drew up outside the home Geraldine and Bradley had shared together, Geraldine hesitated until Ruth patted her on the leg and told her she’d accompany her inside. Ruth opened the front door with her friend’s key. Geraldine halted for a split second in the doorway and then turned to her.
“I can smell his aftershave. Do you think it’s a sign, or am I being silly?”
Ruth shrugged. “I don’t think you’re being silly in the slightest. I’ve heard this sort of thing happening before, not that I’ve been a great believer in the past.”
“Can’t you smell it?” She circled a spot in front of her, urging Ruth to inhale a lungful of air from that very spot.
Ruth did just that but smelt nothing. She shook her head. “Sorry. I’ve usually got a good nose, but there’s nothing there for me.”
Geraldine gasped. “You don’t think it’s his spirit, do you?” she whispered, her eyes widening as she spoke.
“Maybe. Let’s not worry about that now. Let’s get you inside and out of that dress.”
“I’m fine. I appreciate the lift, Ruth. You can leave me alone now.”
Despite having doubts, Ruth did as she was asked and left the house after giving her friend a final reassuring hug.
Her mind whirled frantically during the couple of minutes’ drive back to her beautiful cottage. Where would the investigation begin? She wasn’t privy to the notes the inspector had taken from the guests. No one she’d spoken to at the reception knew anything about Bradley’s movements immediately before he’d plunged to his death. Where the heck did she go for answers? She feared this investigation would turn out to be her toughest one to date, in more ways than one, what with very few clues to go on, plus she’d be under the added stress of having to solve the case because the victim had been married to her best friend.
