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‘We used to love walking up there with Ellery,’ Phyllis said sadly.

Khan turned to Hawthorne. ‘Is there anything else you want to ask?’

‘One thing.’ He turned to May. ‘You had a spare key to the Brownes’ home.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Who else knew you had it?’

‘Nobody . . . apart from Sarah. Mr Browne told her I had it so she could get into the house if a pipe burst or something. But she didn’t know where it was kept. I had it in my medicine box in the bathroom cabinet. Nobody knew it was there.’

‘Sarah told us that she only got employed here thanks to you,’ Hawthorne said.

‘It’s true.’ May pulled a face, as if she had just sniffed sour milk. ‘She was knocking on doors, looking for work, and we took her on. You have to give young people a chance these days. Once she started working for us, we recommended her to other people in the close.’

‘We wouldn’t have gone anywhere near her if we’d known what she was going to do,’ Phyllis said, fresh tears welling in her eyes.

‘You blame her for the death of your dog.’

‘How could anyone do anything as horrible as that – and to an animal that had never done any harm to anyone? I wouldn’t have believed it – but she had scratches on her arms. I asked her about that. She said she’d been clearing a dead rose bush for Mr Strauss, but that’s not what it looked like to me.’

‘Does she still look after your garden?’

May paused. ‘We have no choice. It’s not so easy to find help around here.’

Hawthorne smiled at Khan. ‘No further questions,’ he said.

3

No tea or butter cookies were served at The Stables this time. Adam Strauss was slumped in an armchair, his hands clasped between his knees, a look of utter defeat on his face. For a man who guarded his emotions, who had learned to do so professionally, he had clearly taken a beating. He barely looked up as his wife showed Detective Superintendent Khan, Hawthorne and Dudley into the room.

‘Mr Strauss . . .’ Khan tried to get hold of his attention.

Strauss looked up dully. He was wearing a loose bottle-green velvet jacket and a wide-collared shirt, as if he had just come back from a late-night party, albeit one that had taken place in the nineties. ‘I thought I’d see you again,’ he said eventually.

‘I’m sorry, sir. I know you were close to Roderick Browne.’

‘He was my dentist.’

‘He was more than that, as I understand it.’

‘Oh, yes. We were friends. He was the one who introduced us to Riverview Close in the first place. He was thinking of buying Woodlands and he showed me the brochure. That’s how I came to acquire the Lodge. I saw him last night, you know. I suppose I must have been the last person to see him alive – unless Sarah Baines came in this morning?’

‘She arrived too late, sir.’

‘Well, it’s all down to me, then.’ Strauss fell silent.

‘He called you and asked you to come round,’ Khan said.

‘That’s right. That was just after he came back from the police station.’ Suddenly, Adam was angry. He looked at Khan accusingly. ‘You really put him through the wringer, didn’t you! Did you have to interview him at such length?’

‘He was a suspect in a murder investigation, sir, and he was treated with the utmost courtesy . . .’

‘We were all suspects, Detective Superintendent. God knows, I had as much reason to kill Giles Kenworthy as anyone.’

‘His children did thousands of pounds’ worth of damage,’ Teri cut in. She had taken a seat next to her husband. Now she reached out and took his hand. ‘They smashed my husband’s beautiful chess set. And their father didn’t give a damn.’

‘But it was Roderick Browne’s crossbow.’

Strauss shook his head. ‘Anyone could have taken it . . . including me! I was in and out of his house all the time. There’s a corridor at the back, next to the kitchen. It leads straight in. Roderick would be upstairs half the time, fetching and carrying for Felicity. It would have been easy to walk in and take it.’ He stared at Khan. ‘You picked on him and you browbeat him and although it pains me to say it, you may have been responsible for his suicide, Detective Superintendent. He was a middle-aged man with the worry of a very sick wife and then you come barging in, making false accusations. I think you should be ashamed of yourself.’

‘I didn’t accuse him of anything, sir.’

‘So what did you talk about for over two hours? The weather?’

If Hawthorne had been enjoying the sight of Khan being put in his place, he was careful not to show it. ‘You said you saw Mr Browne,’ he said. ‘Can you tell us what happened?’

Strauss nodded. ‘Teri, can you get me a glass of mineral water?’

Teri got up and went over to the fridge without saying a word.

‘I got the call from him at about six o’clock yesterday evening,’ Strauss continued. ‘He asked me if I’d come over. He said he wanted my advice.’

‘It would be helpful if I could see your mobile,’ Khan said. ‘We’ll need to verify all the timings.’

‘Of course. But I’d have thought you could get that off Roderick’s.’

Khan looked embarrassed. ‘Mr Browne seems to have misplaced his phone. We’re still looking for it.’

‘Are you saying someone’s stolen it?’

‘No, sir. We just can’t find it.’

‘It seems to me that so far you haven’t helped solve anything at all.’

‘Mr Browne confessed to the murder of Giles Kenworthy.’ Khan did his best to hold his ground. ‘We have every reason to believe that he killed himself to escape justice.’

‘That’s impossible. I don’t believe it.’

‘He left behind a letter. He couldn’t have been clearer. Everything about the manner of his death suggests that he committed . . . that he decided on suicide. It would help us a great deal if you could tell me what happened when you saw him last night. What did you talk about? What was his state of mind?’

Adam Strauss calmed down a little, as if acknowledging the need to cooperate. His wife brought over a glass of fizzy water with a lemon slice and ice cubes. He didn’t thank her but emptied it in one gulp and set the glass down. She took her place next to him.

‘I went over to Woodlands at about half past eight, after we finished eating,’ he explained. ‘Roderick was on his own, of course. He’d dropped his wife off with her sister and at least it comforted him to know that she was being looked after. I got the feeling that he was nervous about being on his own. He’d had a bit to drink. There was an open bottle of Scotch on the table when I arrived.’

This accorded with what the police pathologist had found in his blood.

‘Did he offer you some?’ Dudley asked.

‘Yes. He might have. I don’t really remember. I didn’t drink any.’

‘Go on,’ Khan said.

‘We sat down and we talked. He told me that he’d had a dreadful time at the police station in Shepherd’s Bush, that he’d been treated like a common criminal and even threatened.’

‘Nobody threatened him,’ Khan said.

‘I can only tell you what he told me. He was quite sure that the police had made up their minds, that he was the one who had killed Giles Kenworthy. It was his weapon. He had a motive. He was going to be arrested and it would be the end of his practice, his marriage, his life. He might have to go to prison! If you knew Roderick, you’d know he wouldn’t have lasted a week there. The thought filled him with horror.