‘No. I’ll get it over with, I think. It’s only a formality, isn’t it?’
The mortuary man didn’t answer that and didn’t offer any further comment. He wasn’t the most imaginative of men; it didn’t pay him to be, in this job. He said, ‘We’ve completed all the forms now, apart from the final signature. You can go ahead whenever you’re ready, Mrs O’Connor.’
Ros nodded and moved quickly to the spot where he told her to stand. It was strange seeing the body paraded before her like this. So flat, so cold, so still. Quite solemn, but not frightening at all, really. They’d tidied him up very well; you could hardly see the line under his hair where they’d peeled the scalp back, and the sheet was well drawn up over his torso to conceal the cuts beneath it. There was still the death mark where the cable had bitten into his neck, but they’d done their best to disguise even that.
She took a long moment to look at what had once been her husband. It felt almost like an anti-climax. She found herself wishing that it could last a little longer. Then she said, ‘That’s him. That’s my late husband. That is Dominic Francis O’Connor. If you’ll show me the right place on the form, I’ll sign it now.’
Ros looked round into the solemn face of the man standing behind her and gave the little half-giggle he had already heard twice before. ‘It doesn’t take long, does it?’
THIRTEEN
Dominic O’Connor’s widow chose to meet them in the front part of the big late-Victorian house, even though the office at the rear was still cordoned off with the blue-and-white plastic ribbons which forbade entry to a scene of crime. Ros had the high red front door open as they arrived. Peach and Northcott could see down a long hall into the kitchen, where a variety of crockery and utensils lay on sink and units, waiting to be washed. They noted this, as they noted the coat flung carelessly over the banister of the stairs. CID officers acquire the habit of observation early in their careers.
Ros O’Connor saw these things also, but did not seem at all upset. ‘I’ve not got myself properly organised since this happened.’
Peach hastened to reassure her. ‘That’s entirely understandable in these circumstances. And it’s still only just after nine in the morning.’
‘That’s true and it’s nice of you to make excuses for me. Truth to tell, I’m a bit of a slut about the house. Dominic used to say that. Well, he did when we were younger and closer.’
She led them into a dining room which looked as if it had not been used for months and invited them to sit on the opposite side of the table from her. ‘There’s dust on this table, isn’t there? I really am a bit of a slut, you know. Mrs Rigby comes in to help me clean on Wednesdays, but I haven’t used her in here for ages.’ She sat down, then half stood again. ‘Do you want to see where Dominic died? It’s at the back of the house. I can easily-’
‘That isn’t necessary, thank you, Mrs O’Connor. It was Detective Sergeant Northcott and I who found him on Saturday.’
Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Of course it was! I remember now. You must think me a very stupid woman!’
‘We don’t think anything of the sort, Mrs O’Connor. This is a time of great stress for you and we understand that. Now, I know that my wife saw you at your sister’s house in Settle on Saturday to break the news, but we need to ask you a few questions.’
‘Of course you do! I understand that. The spouse is always the first suspect, isn’t she, until you can clear her? John told me that.’
‘John?’
‘Oops! There I go again. John specifically told me he didn’t want to be involved in this, and I drag him in straight away. Well, it might be all for the best in the long run. I’m sure you’d have found out about the two of us sooner or later! You can call me Ros, by the way. I think I’d prefer you to do that.’
Peach wanted to tell her to calm down and listen quietly, but you had to be tactful in the face of what might be no more than a manifestation of grief. He slowed his own tone, hoping that she would take her rhythm from him. ‘A murder victim can’t speak for himself. We’d like to piece together Dominic’s last day, if we could.’
‘We were here in the morning. Dominic was working at home. We haven’t any children, you know. Dominic used to say that it might have kept us closer together if we’d had them, but I don’t know about that. I thought he might go up to Settle and see Jane with me, but he said he had a lot of work to do.’ She leaned forward confidentially. ‘Between you and me, I think Dominic used to find my nieces and nephew a bit of a trial. He wasn’t good with kids. Might have been different if we’d had our own, I suppose.’
Northcott opened his notebook, perhaps hoping that the gesture of formality would slow down this fluttering bird. ‘Can you tell us exactly what time you last saw him on Friday, Ros?’
She smiled at the big black man, so that Peach thought for a moment that she was going to compliment him on his appearance or his voice. Her small features were very animated, like a kitten’s when it is concentrating all its attention on playing with a ball. She frowned suddenly. ‘We had lunch together before I left. We didn’t talk a lot — I rather think Dominic read the paper for most of the time. That would be about one o’clock. I looked after him quite well as regards food, you know. So I’m not entirely a slut!’ She gave a gay little laugh which rang oddly in the unused room. ‘He said he was going to be busy, so I made him some sandwiches and left him a large orange and a flask of coffee. Oh, and a big piece of fruit cake: he was very fond of fruit cake.’
Northcott made a careful note of this, noticing how it tallied with the pathologist’s report on the stomach contents. ‘Can you remember what time you left him during the afternoon?’
‘It must have been about three o’clock, I think. I know I was with Jane and the kids by around half past four.’
Peach tried to be as casual as he could. ‘So you finished your lunch at around half past one. When would you think Dominic would get round to eating this tempting and substantial cold meal you’d left ready for him?’
Her face creased in thought for a moment, then lit up as she felt able to help. ‘Almost certainly at around half past six, I should think. He loved sandwiches and fruit and cake — liked stuff like that much more than bigger meals, he said, because he could eat it wherever and whenever he fancied. And he liked to listen to The News Quiz, that programme on Radio Four, which is on after the six o’clock news. I reckon he’d almost certainly stop his work to listen to that and eat what I’d left for him at the same time. That was one of the ways he liked to relax.’
That would put the time of death at around nine: approximately two hours after he’d finished eating the sandwiches and fruit, the PM report had said. ‘Thank you. This is very useful for us; you’re helping us to piece together his last hours just as we hoped you would.’
‘That’s good, isn’t it? Perhaps I’m not such an airhead as I thought I was.’ She brushed a strand of blond hair away from her left eye and sat back in her chair, like a schoolgirl who has been congratulated on speaking well.
‘You mentioned John at the beginning of our conversation. Would that be John Alderson?’
Peach had thought she might bridle at the name, but she seemed quite pleased to have it set on the table between them. ‘You’ve been talking to other people, haven’t you? Who told you about John? Oh well, it doesn’t matter. I think it’s better that I tell you all about John, whatever he thinks.’
‘So do just that, please.’ Peach allowed himself a touch of acerbity. You had to make great allowances for grief, but he thought the widow might just be exploiting her position a little.
She looked at him silently for a moment, then put her hands together on the table in front of her and stared down at them, as if the physical movement was an aid in marshalling her thoughts. ‘My marriage to Dominic was less than perfect. It’s no use trying to disguise that, because other people are going to tell you about it — perhaps they already have, if you know about John. Dominic had lots of affairs. Most of them were with women I never even knew and he was careful not to leave much evidence around. He wasn’t sentimental, like me; Dominic didn’t keep things. But I knew about his women, all the same.’ She smiled knowingly and rocked gently backwards and forwards on her chair, pressing her hands on the table to facilitate the movement.