‘Miss Mahl,’ said DCI Reynolds, this is ‘Sergeant Ayari, who you’ll remember.’
‘Yes, hello,’ I nodded. ‘Please call me Susie.’
We were in a box room with no windows. The usual scene: empty table, bucket chairs and two police officers with pads and pens.
DCI Reynolds pulled out a chair for me. ‘If you’d like to take a seat then we can begin.’
I tucked my legs under the table and sat upright, eager to proceed, uninhibited by the fact that I must currently be a suspect.
‘Now, Miss Mahl. Susie!’ he corrected. ‘Before we begin I just want to make clear, this is an informal interview and you have the right to leave at any time.’
‘I understand,’ I said deferentially.
‘Sergeant Ayari and I are looking for clarity.’ DCI Reynolds’s eyes were fixed on mine. ‘We would like to go through with you the events of Saturday evening and the early hours of Sunday morning at Fontaburn Hall.’ A sharp nasal inhale finished his sentence.
I glanced at Sergeant Ayari. Her poised silence made me feel uneasy.
‘In order to get you up to speed,’ said DCI Reynolds, ‘I must inform you that Miss Dune’s standard post-mortem has given us reasonable cause to confirm that her death was not, as the house party presumed, from alcohol poisoning. A full forensic post-mortem has been requested and a police murder enquiry triggered.’ It was Sergeant Ayari now whose eyes were fixed on me.
‘M-u-r-d-e-r,’ I let out ever so softly.
‘Yes,’ said DCI Reynolds, turning up the volume. ‘This morning an inquest was opened in Norfolk Crown Court and the identity of the deceased has been confirmed.’ He nodded for Sergeant Ayari to continue the point.
‘Miss Hailey Dune, aged thirty-one, assistant primary school teacher at Lilac Pre-Prep, in London. American citizen on a work visa in the UK. Residency in UK totals eleven months. The inquest has been adjourned until investigations are complete.’ She spoke without an ounce of compassion, which was (hopefully) probably mandatory in these circumstances.
DCI Reynolds cleared his throat. ‘The investigation into the cause of Miss Dune’s death has begun. Due to the circumstances, there is pressure to gather evidence as quickly as possible, and for that reason the pathologists’ medical tests and my team’s Fontaburn Hall investigations will be carried out simultaneously.’
I took in a sharp breath and nodded in agreement. Yesterday, with his dull beige exterior and nonsense questions, DCI Reynolds had aggravated me but today, despite the fact he was again dressed in varying shades of the anodyne colour, he intimidated me.
‘Good, good,’ he said, pushing the end of his pen against the table to release the nib. ‘A few questions, some of which are repeats from last time.’
At last Sergeant Ayari smiled at me, and I wondered if it was her way of compensating for her boss’s uncompromising manner. It did the job. I relaxed and smiled back, wanting her to know I was on side, ready to work as a team – if I should be so lucky.
‘How long have you known Mr Wellingham?’ asked DCI Reynolds.
‘I’d never met him or any of his guests before Saturday night.’
‘I see. Yes, I remember now.’ He looked at Sergeant Ayari for her confirmation. She had yesterday’s interview in front of her but I didn’t doubt her memory.
‘When and what time did you arrive at Fontaburn Hall?’
I recalled Hailey’s announcement of gin o’clock. ‘About five to six on Saturday evening.’
DCI Reynolds and Sergeant Ayari exchanged a knowing glance.
‘Other than the names on my list,’ DCI Reynolds pushed a piece of paper across the table towards me, ‘Was anyone else present?’
‘Two dogs, Yin and Yang.’
‘Mm-hm,’ agreed DCI Reynolds. ‘Anyone else?’
‘Yes, Victoria Ramsbottom.’
‘A guest?’
‘No, she was doing the cooking.’
‘Had you met her before?’
‘No.’
‘Did she have any interaction with the guests asides being the cook?’
‘Was she staying at the Hall?’
‘No.’
‘How long did she spend there?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t know.’
‘Did you see her leave?’
‘I didn’t see her but I know she left.’
‘How do you know?’
‘She left a note in the kitchen saying she’d gone home because she felt unwell.’
‘Did you see this note?’ DCI Reynolds was far more perceptive than I’d previously given him credit for.
‘No,’ I said, realising my mistake: I could have so easily checked for the note but had missed the opportunity.
One thing was clear, DCI Reynolds wanted evidence and this linear approach made me think better of mentioning the burnt pudding and how peculiar I found it that Victoria Ramsbottom, an experienced cook (she wouldn’t have tackled grouse breasts, not to mention game chips if she wasn’t) had failed to take the pudding out of the oven before she left. Thinking on my feet for a second, if the sick note was a veil for a quick exit then perhaps something ominous had been playing on Vicky’s mind, preoccupying her and causing her to make such a foolish mistake.
DCI Reynolds, busy making sure Sergeant Ayari was getting this all down, didn’t think to ask me if I’d seen Victoria Ramsbottom since Saturday. Lucky for me – if I had to tell him she’d been at Pluton Farm Stables it might drag Lucy into the whole thing, and I really didn’t want to bring all that upon her. As it was I could now indulge in a little bit of discreet snooping myself before putting him in the picture.
‘Moving on to meal times,’ said DCI Reynolds. ‘Please can you give us a full list of what you drank and ate during your stay.’
‘One glass of gin and tonic, three glasses of champagne, several glasses of red wine, a small cup of coffee, quite a few glasses of water and a cup of tea.’ I took a breath avoiding a yawn. ‘I ate a cheese straw, two cheese straws in fact, ceps on toast, one grouse breast, a handful of game chips, leeks, broccoli and a Bendicks bitter mint.’
‘All taste normal?’
‘Yes. Of those I’ve eaten before.’
I should think DCI Reynolds would have run a background check on me by now and therefore must know that mushroom picking and grouse shooting didn’t go hand in hand with an artist’s income and south London upbringing.
‘Any digestive side effects since your stay with Mr Wellingham?’
‘Nope.’
‘Now,’ he said with a hint of self-consciousness, ‘I would like us to turn our attentions to the bedroom. At what time did you, if at all, first enter Miss Dune’s bedroom?’
‘I don’t know what time but it was soon after the burglar alarm stopped sounding. Daniel and I rushed upstairs when we heard Charlotte’s cry for help.’
‘What was her cry?’
I racked my memory for the exact words.
‘Susie?’ he asked, impatient for my answer.
‘I’m very sorry Inspector, but I can’t recall what she said. It was alarming, I remember that, because her voice carried all the way down the back stairs into the hall.’
‘Why did you take it upon yourself to answer her call?’
‘It was my immediate reaction. I didn’t make a conscious decision. I heard a scream for help so I ran.’
‘And Daniel?’
‘You’ll have to ask him.’
‘Did none of the others follow on?’
‘No.’
‘Mr Wellingham? Where was he?’
Good point! Where on earth was Archie at that moment? He’d come into the hall when the alarm stopped but why hadn’t he run straight to his friend in distress?
‘I don’t know, Inspector. He did come to the bedroom but after Daniel and me.’
‘Would you say Daniel and you were the spriteliest of the bunch?’
‘Perhaps, yes. Although I think it’s worth taking into account how different people react in tense situations.’
‘I think it’d be best Susie if you let us decide what and what not we take into account.’
DCI Reynolds was quite right, I’d spoken out loud and out of turn and although I felt I’d make a good co-detective he’d firmly reminded me, I must earn my place first.
‘Please describe Miss Dune’s bedroom to us as it was when you first entered. Objects, persons, clothes, toiletries… now don’t feel inhibited and make sure not to miss anything out.’
I had to be careful here as I have a visual memory. I knew I could give an almost perfect description of the room and although it may well work in my favour if I did, it could alternatively lead DCI Reynolds and Sergeant Ayari to the conclusion that I was a key suspect. So, omitting the colour, pattern and material of all soft furnishings as well as the period style of the furniture, height of wall-light fittings, type of beading on the skirting board and wording from the magazine poking out of the top of Hailey’s handbag, I launched into a concise description. ‘Looking into the bedroom as if from the window, Charlotte was standing in front of the dressing table staring over the chaise longue at Hailey, who was lying on her back on the left-hand side of the four-poster bed. Hailey’s eyes were open and as far as I could tell she wasn’t wearing any clothes.’
‘Was Miss Dune wearing clothes or was she not, Susie?’ interrupted DCI Reynolds.
‘Her dress and underwear were on the floor and her shoulders were bare.’
‘I see. Go on.’
‘The duvet was ruffled on both sides of the bed and the lampshade on the right side of the bed was skew-whiff.’
‘Right side? Still looking at the scene with your back to the window?’
‘Yes, all this is as if from the window.’
I had a strong visual in my mind and it suddenly struck me that Hailey’s underwear, her bra having got caught on my foot, was on the opposite side of the bed to her dress, which Daniel had chucked out of the way. This threw up two options. Either Hailey, drunk and disorderly, could have undressed around the room, tipped the lampshade herself and ruffled up the entire bed. Or someone else was in there too.
‘This, Susie, is the most detailed account of the scene we’ve received so far and it’s particularly helpful to us that you were in there very early on.’
DCI Reynolds looked again towards Sergeant Ayari and I wondered what, out of all I had said, was most interesting, or whether in fact I had just dropped myself in it.
‘Please go on,’ he said with a genuine smile and I now saw him in a different light. His far more relaxed demeanour showed he was in fact a kind man. He had those soft eyes that would be hard not to trust and his mouth held a smile even in repose. I assumed this pair was looking on me favourably so I continued my description, across the dressing table and into the open wardrobe. I spoke exactly how I’d seen it; I won’t drag you through it, there was nothing of any note, other than to say I did in the end admit to knocking over the glass of water.
‘Having made us aware of your acute attention to detail,’ complimented DCI Reynolds, ‘I would be interested to hear your interpretation of the evening’s events.’
I froze and gulped. ‘I’m sorry, Inspector, I would rather not share anything at such an early stage. Not that I really have anything to share.’
Niggling at my conscience was the man I’d seen in the billiard room, the one in stripy pyjamas. I wanted to bide my time before introducing a possibly coincidental tangent. So as DCI Reynolds hadn’t yet drawn a parallel between the alarm and Hailey’s death, I didn’t mention it.
Without the slightest bit of animosity, he said, ‘If at any point you want to come and see either me or Sergeant Ayari for a further chit-chat please do.’ And with a sincerely rigid (and now familiar) forefinger he pushed a business card across the table. ‘This has my direct line and mobile on it.’
‘And here’s mine,’ added Sergeant Ayari, as it dawned on me they may well already know I’d played amateur detective before and, if so, I thought I’d chance my luck and provoke a discussion.
‘Inspector, how come the pathologists are so sure Hailey didn’t die of alcohol poisoning?’
DCI Reynolds glanced at Sergeant Ayari who gave a rapid sharp nod.
‘Not enough alcohol showed up in her blood or her urine. In fact, unlike most inebriated patients, she had not urinated.’ DCI Reynolds pulled his chair out from the table and clasped his hands in his lap.
‘Between you and me Susie, alcohol poisoning would have been a satisfactory explanation for all involved, but it’s certainly not looking to be the case.’
Sergeant Ayari nodded in agreement.
‘As for drugs, they would have given us an alternative explanation but there was no trace of recreational substances in Hailey’s system.’ DCI Reynolds stood up to show me out, ‘Just one final word.’
‘Yes, Inspector,’ I said as I rose from my chair.
‘As I’m sure you’re aware, Mr Wellingham is quite the public figure in these parts and I ask you please, on his behalf, to keep this business under your hat whilst we carry out our investigation. It makes our job a lot easier if we can act in privacy without the press or busybodies spouting nonsense along the way.’
‘Of course, you have my word,’ I said as I slipped their cards into my handbag and left.