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.“I was at church earlier, and then we went for a walk.I’d not been back long when Marjorie came over in a flap.”“She was upset?”“Inspector, she was beside herself.You saw her, trying to be brave, but she’s a sensitive woman, really.”Anderson kept his head over his notebook, but Robin could have sworn he was trying not to smirk.Maybe Mrs.Bookham was sensitive, under that brisk, efficient exterior.Reed, who hadn’t seemed to notice the smirk, ploughed on.“I couldn’t have seen anything, anyway; the laurel hedge is so thick.”That was a valid point.He’d certainly have needed a ladder to see over it, and seeing through it was well nigh impossible.“I’ve racked my brain, but I can’t think of anything or anyone I saw that was in any way suspicious.” Reed picked a broken twig from the winter jasmine by the door.“Poor Marjorie.She was in a terrible pickle by the time I dropped her off home.Come on in.” Reed stood back to let them into the hall.“She was remarkably stoic on Thursday, although I don’t suppose she actually saw Youngs’s body then.This was different.”“Is her husband looking after her? He does realise how much of a shock she’s had?” From what he’d heard of the man, Robin didn’t have any confidence in Derek Bookham’s levels of empathy.“Oh yes.He must have been worried about the state she was in because he volunteered to make her a cup of tea before I could force him to do it.Unprecedented, I suspect.”“It isn’t easy for anyone to find a dead body,” Anderson chipped in.“I know, Sergeant.I found Youngs, remember?”“Sorry.”“Marjorie came straight over to use the phone, didn’t she? Once she’d found Narraway dead.” Robin couldn’t keep the feelings of guilt at bay.If only he’d come back here last night and probed Narraway about that overheard phone call, then he might have forced the man into saying who he’d been talking to.Then he could have spoken to them, perhaps staving off this act of violence.Surely the murderer—if it was indeed the person on the phone—wouldn’t have acted if the police were looking over his or her shoulder?“I believe so.Poor girl was in an awful state.Kept saying she was sure there was someone in the bushes.I went upstairs to look, but if there had been someone there, he’d scarpered.And then I went out into the lane and double-checked nobody was hanging about, because Marjorie was so persistent.”“She wasn’t frightened of being left in here on her own?” Robin eyed the door, the large windows.How easy would it be for someone to get into this house? Or the similar one next door?“She said she felt safe indoors.I told her where the rolling pin was, just in case.” Reed took one last look at the impenetrable hedge and blew air out through his nose.“She’d have used it?” Anderson asked.“No doubt about it, if she’d been in a crisis.I’m just amazed she hasn’t taken one to Derek before now.Oh.No, I didn’t mean.She’s not violent or anything, it’s just that Derek would try the patience of a saint.”“Yes, we got that impression.” Robin made a mental note of it, though.Little throwaway line or something more significant?“I bet you have.Derek Bookham would like to have lived in the era when women were expected to be tied to the kitchen sink and men spent their time working or at the pub or the golf club.”It was a possible motive to take a rolling pin to him, but there seemed to be no reason for her to want to kill Narraway.Or Youngs.“Why does she put up with it?” Great-Aunt Jenny and the piano tuner hadn’t.“I take it Mrs.Bookham doesn’t agree with that point of view?”“I’m sure she doesn’t, although she hides it well.” Reed sighed.“Or maybe she’s just infinitely patient.Ignore what I said about the rolling pin, eh?”“I won’t tell anyone,” Robin said.Why didn’t anything seem to be moving forward in this bloody investigation? “Just clarify me one thing, though.Why don’t—didn’t—you bring Narraway his governor post if he lives just next door?”“Why should I? I’m not an office boy.”And Adam is? Robin got angry at the idea.“I’d have thought it was just common decency.Helping Mrs.Shepherd out.”Reed sighed.“I used to do it.But Oliver always wants—wanted—to nab me for a chat.I think he used to get lonely.I tried just putting it through the door, but he always seemed to catch me.”The story might be true, but it still stuck in Robin’s craw.They finished the interview there, with the usual caveat about contacting them if Reed remembered anything important, then went in search of Grace, who was scouring Narraway’s front garden.“Please tell me you’ve got something we can get our teeth into,” Robin implored.“Only in the negative.No signs of a struggle inside, no sign of forced entry.No sign of much, really.” Grace got up, wiping the soil from her knees.“I blame the forensic police shows on television.Now everyone’s an expert on the best way to avoid leaving fibres or whatever.Latex gloves and God knows what else.”“Gloves.” Robin drew in a deep breath, clearing the mind that was getting increasingly muzzy under the combined effects of the case and the lingering memories of the night before.He took a swift look round, but nobody was lurking to overhear them.“I can’t help thinking about those surgical gloves I saw in Brian Duncan’s case.”“You’re too suspicious, Chief Inspector.Plenty of first-aiders have those.It all dates back to the AIDS scare, when nobody was willing to touch a drop of blood.Pick their noses and eat it happily but don’t want any of the red stuff.” She grinned gleefully.“Do you mind?” Anderson had turned a touch green.“I’ve just had my lunch.”“Murderer let himself, or herself, out?” Robin asked, secretly pleased to see his sergeant’s discomfort.“Yeah.The front door’s on a Yale, so it would have locked behind him.The only open windows are too small to squeeze through, so the victim must have let him—or her—in.”Robin nodded.“Isn’t that usually the way? Most people get done in by one of their nearest and dearest [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]