“How long after finishing with Mr. Adams did you and Mr. Branson start seeing each other?”
“That’s very generous of you, Inspector — you’re giving me the benefit of the doubt as to whether or not there was a gap between the two relationships. Well, what happened was I tried unsuccessfully to break up with Adam a few times — as I say, it’s hard when you’re both under the one roof, especially when one of you is resisting the split. I don’t really know why he was so adamant that we should stay together — there was nothing very strong going on between us. Maybe he’d just grown accustomed to the routine we’d fallen into and there was absolutely no one else in his life, he had no surviving family members or close friends. Couples start to depend on each other, don’t they? I was equally adamant we had to split up, though. I was getting a bit...”
Here Judy Siddons sighed and appeared to grow reflective for a few moments before continuing: “In a way, I suppose I thought it was my last chance. I accepted the fact that I was either going to split with Adam and have a chance at finding a proper lasting relationship in a marriage — perhaps even have a child — or I was going to waste away the rest of my best years with Adam. This realisation gave me the resolve and strength I needed, I can tell you. Eventually I started to say no to Adam. More importantly, I meant no.
“One evening in particular we were having an argument in my flat — I couldn’t get him to leave. He just point blank refused to leave my flat. He was screaming and shouting something about at least I was going to have another chance — but that he wasn’t. We must have been causing quite a ruckus because eventually Darren came upstairs to see what the racket was all about. He banged on my door. Adam yelled at him to eff off. Darren shouted back that he wouldn’t leave until he could physically see that I was okay. Adam was blocking me from the door at this point. It was the first time he had been physical with me. I mean, he wasn’t hitting me or anything, but his face was as red as a beetroot with rage and his eyes were bulging out of their sockets just like Marty Feldman.
“I went to push him to one side so I could open the door, but he pushed me away with such force that I fell back onto the carpet. I must have screamed or something because Darren started banging on the door again, even louder than before. The racket distracted Adam. He moved towards the door and when his back was turned to me I jumped up and rushed past him and managed to open the door before he pushed me away again.
“Darren burst into my hallway and I ran straight into his arms. There was a bit of a screaming match between them, you know, all that macho stuff, flaming testosterone at ten paces. Adam was absolutely seething. Oh... if looks could only kill, I can tell you. He screamed in a high-pitched whine, ‘You’ll be sorry, Judy — you just don’t realise how sorry you’re going to be.’ And he went out and that was that.”
“And that was the end of the relationship?” Kennedy asked quietly.
“Yes. That was the end of everything with Adam, I can tell you,” Judy replied, equally quietly. “I cannot abide a man who uses his physical strength against a woman. That can only ever end up in tears. Adam sent me flowers the next day, apologising profusely. In a way, I suppose he’d done me a big favour, you know. Due to his aggressive behaviour, he’d actually made it much easier to draw a line under our relationship.”
“And then... Darren Branson?” Kennedy suggested. He wasn’t altogether sure that Ms. Siddons and Mr. Branson had an actual relationship and he wanted it clear; he needed it to be clear.
“Well,” Ms. Siddons replied, stretching the word out into at least four syllables, “I can tell you Darren behaved like the perfect gentleman he is. I was vulnerable and low and I could very easily have fallen into his arms that night. In fact, I seem to remember I asked him to stay with me. I was still shaking and I didn’t want to be alone. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t looking for anything other than someone being there with me. Darren stayed the night, but he insisted on sleeping on the sofa. We became friends, good friends, and then, just when I thought we were growing further and further away from having a full relationship, we fell rapturously in love. That’s when it started to get a bit awkward around here again.”
“Oh?” was Kennedy’s single syllable reply and question.
“Well, we’d fallen in love the way I’d always dreamed of falling in love. To top it all, Darren asked me to marry him. I didn’t debate with myself for a second. I said yes immediately. I knew it was what I wanted. It’s just like it was so obvious that we were meant to be together. So we started to make our plans. We agreed, reluctantly, that we should either sell both our flats and move on, or try and buy Adam’s flat and have the entire house to ourselves. I must admit, when it came down to discussing the idea with Adam, I chickened out and left Darren to get on with it.”
Here Judy paused for a few moments. Kennedy thought she could have been disturbed again by the noise of the police officers upstairs. She started to play with her wayward curl again. Kennedy was convinced it was the exact same curl she’d being toying with a few minutes previously. Again he found the need to prompt her.
“And Mr. Adams didn’t take it too well?”
“Yes. Well, yes and no, really. This would have been about four or five weeks ago, and on the day in question, Adam literally threw Darren out of his flat. And every time they’d meet in the hallway, as I told you at the beginning of our conversation, there’d be an almighty shouting match. But then, about a week ago, Adam seemed to change his tune somewhat. He invited Darren up to his flat and apparently it was all very civilised, with wine, cheese, and French bread — the same bread Adam loved to bake himself. The only problem was that sometimes the crust was so hard that I swear to you, you’d need a saw to cut it. Anyway, Adam announced that he’d had a change of heart. He said he realised that there was no point in cutting off his nose to spite his face. He said we should all come to an agreement. It was settled that we should either buy his flat, or he should buy both our flats, just as Darren had originally suggested. The conclusion was that we should all get on with our lives.
“The agreement was that we’d get an estate agent in. There was one nearby, McGinley and Associates, and we should get them in to do a valuation. Then, whoever could match the asking price would buy the other out. If we could all make the asking price, and this was Darren’s idea, we’d give him first call on whether he wanted to buy or sell. And that was that until this evening,” Judy continued, dropping to a quieter voice. “I was not back in my flat for very long when I heard noises coming from upstairs. It wasn’t too disruptive at the start — more like stuff being moved around carelessly — a few loud thuds — a little bit of high-pitched shouting and screaming, then a lot of high-pitched shouting and screaming.”
“Could you make out how many people were upstairs and what was being said?” Kennedy asked, happy that they’d now reached the apparent crux of the matter.
“I think there were two people. I couldn’t really make out what was being said. The shouting and screaming I recognised as being Adam’s. The rest was more baritone. Then there was a distinctive, ‘No. No. Don’t!’ Then a loud, eerie shriek, and then nothing,” Judy said, and stole a quick glance at her watch before continuing, “I was scared, I can tell you. Darren wasn’t due back until eight o’clock tonight, so I rang the police and you all were here near enough immediately.”
Judy Siddons stopped talking and averted her eyes towards her ceiling, Adam Adams’s floor.
“Tell me, did you go upstairs at all after the noises?” Kennedy asked.