They hadn’t gone out anywhere, Daisy asserted. There was nobody else who could confirm what she was telling Vogel, but it was the truth, she assured the detective.
‘It’s always been just the two of us and it’s always been only ever here, at my flat, for more than six years now, Detective Inspector,’ she said. ‘Jim wouldn’t risk being seen out anywhere with me, you see. It’s ridiculous really, I shouldn’t have put up with it, not for this long. But you get fed up with being alone. I like having a man in my bed now and then and Jim is rather good in bed as it happens, surprisingly so, perhaps.’
She paused. Vogel had to make a conscious effort not to let his embarrassment show. He was a police officer of more than twenty years’ experience yet, all too often, he continued to find himself embarrassed by personal revelation, particularly of a sexual nature. And he really couldn’t come to terms with the picture her words presented, of this slim, rather elegant woman romping in bed with the barrel-shaped, red-faced and somewhat uncouth Jim Fisher.
Of course, few looking on would ever have guessed at Vogel’s disconcertment. Only his rapid blinking, partially concealed by the thick lenses of his spectacles, might have given him away, usually just to those closest to him. The sharply observant Dawn Saslow had, however, already recognised the trait in him, but Vogel had no idea of that. The young DC suppressed a smile with difficulty. Vogel continued to stare at Daisy Wilkins.
‘Well, I’m not going to find anyone else at my age, am I?’ Daisy continued. ‘So I just accept what he has to offer, even if it’s not a lot, and his lies, of course.’
The words were bitter, but the manner of her delivery was merely resigned.
Vogel listened without immediate response.
‘Detective Inspector, won’t you tell me why you are here now? Something has obviously happened. Do you suspect Jim of having committed some sort of crime?’
Vogel still wasn’t ready to answer Daisy’s questions.
‘What kind of lies?’ he asked.
‘The usual in this situation. That he would leave his wife when the kids were older. Isn’t it almost a courtesy for a married man to say that to his mistress? Though I’ve barely been even that.’
She stared at Vogel quizzically.
‘You think he may have lied to me about something more sinister, Detective Inspector, is that it?’
Vogel avoided her question.
‘Just let me confirm again that you are absolutely sure Jim Fisher was with you for all of last night?’ he asked. ‘Was it at all possible that he could have left during the night and returned without you knowing it? Whilst you were asleep, perhaps?’
‘I’m a light sleeper, Mr Vogel. And, in any case, when he is here, Jim doesn’t give me much time to sleep.’
Vogel winced. He felt himself blinking rapidly again. He could do without that sort of detail, even though it was only as he had expected. He didn’t like the thought of someone, especially someone he regarded as an oaf of a man, taking advantage of this woman who was surely far too good for him. He found it hard to believe that Daisy Wilkins had needs that could be so well satisfied by the likes of Jim Fisher. She must be just kidding herself, surely? Although, she had already indicated that she’d come to settle for whatever was on offer.
Vogel rather liked to put women on pedestals. That sort of woman anyway. A woman who he could not imagine would deliberately give anyone a false alibi. If she was sure that Jim Fisher had not left her, at any time between his arrival around 10.00 p.m. and his departure at around 7.00 a.m., then the man seemed to be in the clear. Karen Crow, the pathologist, had yet to confirm time of death, but it was already believed to have been after ten, at the earliest.
Although the DNA results would not come through for several days, Vogel now felt pretty confident of the results. He didn’t think Jim Fisher would be incriminated. This case was not going to be that simple.
He heard Daisy Wilkins’s voice almost in the distance, it was pleading now.
‘What is going on, Mr Vogel? Why are you asking me all this? Please, please, tell me.’
Vogel considered for just a split second. He could not see any advantage in further concealing the reason for his visit. Indeed, it might be counterproductive to do so. Vogel really didn’t think Daisy was protecting Fisher from anything, nor that she was the type of person who would lie to the police. He was even more certain that she would not do so, once she knew about Melanie.
‘I am afraid Mr Fisher’s stepdaughter has been found dead,’ he said bluntly, all the while watching Daisy carefully. ‘She was murdered in Bristol last night.’
The woman gasped. Her hand went to her throat. Her jaw dropped.
‘And you suspect Jim?’ she blurted out eventually.
‘We just need to eliminate him from our enquiries,’ Vogel said in his most unexpressive voice.
‘Well, you can certainly do that,’ Daisy Wilkins responded swiftly. ‘Even if he hadn’t been with me all night, you could do that. Jim Fisher is a lying, manipulative bastard, but he doesn’t have a violent bone in his body. He never speaks of his wife to me, but I know all about the children. He adored Melanie. Loved her as much as his own. I’m sure of it. Always telling me so. I find it rather irritating, actually. I have such a small slice of him, yet even when he’s with me he talks about the children, their achievements, what they’ve been up to. Doesn’t seem able to stop himself.’
‘I see.’
Vogel was as satisfied as he could be with Daisy Wilkins’s response to all of his questions. He had just one more for her. And he was honest enough to himself to be aware that, as he voiced it, his reason for asking was as much personal as professional.
‘How did you meet Jim Fisher?’ he asked.
Daisy smiled. Was it because she — quite rightly — suspected the motive behind Vogel’s new line of questioning, or was she smiling at the memory of her first meeting with her secret lover? Her answer, when it came, rather indicated the former. It caused Vogel to once again blink; he hoped he looked disinterested rather than flustered.
‘Yes, most of the people I have ever known would think we were an unlikely pair,’ she said. ‘He was involved in a renovation project on the old building next door. One afternoon, he carried in my shopping for me from the car. He was younger then, slimmer and fitter too. And so was I, of course. Well, younger anyway. I’d just been made redundant from the library. I’d been a librarian all my life. I’d never married. I thought I had good friends, but they were all connected with my job. When I lost that, I gradually began to lose them too. My mother had died the year before. She’d have called Jim my “bit of rough”, not that I would ever have let her meet him, of course.’
Daisy smiled again, a wry, self deprecating sort of smile.
‘Anyway, I was suddenly, dreadfully lonely. Vulnerable, some might say. Jim made it clear immediately that he found me attractive and, I am afraid, I allowed him into my bed and my life with indecent haste. So, there you have it, Mr Vogel.’
‘I see,’ said Vogel, voice and face as expressionless ever.
Daisy smiled for the third time. A wider, easier smile this time. It lit up her face.
‘Are you shocked, Mr Vogel?’ she asked, almost mischievously.
‘Certainly not, madam,’ replied Vogel, blinking away.
He took his leave and led Dawn Saslow to the door. Walking towards the squad car parked by the curb outside, Vogel was overwhelmed with a sense of sadness.
Saslow had been watching him carefully.
‘Everything all right, sir?’ she asked.
Vogel grunted. ‘Life can be so damned futile, Saslow,’ he muttered.