The woman at Victoria station was waiting for her son.
Robert Hathall was one minute late, but this quietly
pleased the woman. Other people’s faults7
often pleased her.
‘There you are,’ she said, when he arrived.
‘Have you got your ticket?’ asked Robert.
She hadn’t. She knew that he’d had money problems for
the three years of his second marriage, but that was his fault.
‘Go and buy them, or we’ll miss the train,’ she said.
Perhaps they would miss the train to Kingsmarkham. Then
Angela, Robert’s wife, would be angry with him. It would be a
good start to the weekend, she thought with a smile.
They did not miss the train. But it was crowded, and they
had to stand.
‘Angela is looking forward to seeing you,’ said Robert.
Mrs Hathall remembered the only time that she had met
her daughter-in-law8
. It was in a flat at Earl’s Court. Angela
had described Robert’s first wife, Eileen, as a greedy9
cow. Mrs
Hathall had immediately walked out of the building. She told
herself that she never wanted to see Angela again.
But here she was, going to Kingsmarkham. And Robert was
getting nervous. ‘Angela’s been cleaning the house to make it
nice for you,’ he said.
Mrs Hathall wanted to say, ‘A good wife always has a
clean house, not just when a visitor is coming.’ But she said
nothing.
‘Angela’s meeting us with the car,’ Robert said, when they
arrived at Kingsmarkham railway station.
His mother pushed her suitcase at him and took hold of his
arm. ‘Eileen visited me this morning,’ she said, when they were
Murder!
walking out of the station. ‘Why don’t you go and see her one
evening when you’re in London?’
‘Is that a joke?’ he asked. ‘Because it’s not funny.’ He was
looking around the car park for Angela and the car.
A cruel smile pulled at the corners of Mrs Hathall’s mouth.
‘Your wife’s not here,’ she said.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Robert. ‘It’s not far to walk.’
It was unusual for him to be so calm, she thought. Usually
he became angry when his mother was rude about Angela.
Then they would have an argument. But not today.
It was a beautiful September evening. The sun was warm,
and the gardens were bright with the last flowers of summer.
But Mrs Hathall noticed none of this. She was thinking about
Angela – the woman who broke up a happy marriage.
They turned into Wool Lane and walked past a large house.
‘That looks nice,’ said Mrs Hathall.
‘It’s the only other house in the lane,’ said Robert. ‘A
woman called Lake lives there. She’s a widow10.’ He looked
worried. ‘I can’t understand what’s happened to Angela. I’m
sorry about this, Mother. I really am sorry.’
Mrs Hathall was so surprised to hear her son say sorry for
something, that she could not think of an answer.
After a minute or two, they came to Robert’s cottage11. Mrs
Hathall was disappointed to see that it was a pleasant old house
with brown bricks. Robert unlocked the front door.
‘Angela, we’re here!’ he called.
Mrs Hathall followed him into the living room – and was
surprised. Where were the dirty tea-cups and the clothes across
the chairs? Where was the dust on the furniture, the dirty
windows? She had expected to see all of these things, but the
place was amazingly clean.
‘Where is Angela?’ said Robert. ‘I’m going out to the garage
to look for the car. Go on upstairs, Mother. Your bedroom is
the big room at the back.’
10
Mrs Hathall climbed the stairs, checking for dust. There
was none. And her bedroom was as clean as the rest of the
house. Disappointed, she went into the bathroom where there
were clean towels and new soap. She washed her hands and
came out again. The door to the main bedroom was half-open
and Mrs Hathall looked inside.
A girl lay face-down on the bed. Mrs Hathall smiled coldly.
Robert’s wife was asleep, perhaps drunk. She was wearing
shoes, old blue jeans and a red shirt. They were the same
clothes that she had worn when they met at Earl’s Court. Mrs
Hathall remembered Eileen’s pretty afternoon dresses. Eileen
only slept in the afternoon when she was ill.
She walked across to the bed and looked down at the girl.
She put a hand on the girl’s shoulder to shake it. Then she
stopped. The girl’s neck was cold, and there was an ugly purple
mark on it.
She was dead.
Murder!
11
Murder!
12
Mrs Hathall’s heart began to beat faster, but she did not
scream. She felt only shock, nothing else. Slowly, she walked
out of the room and down the stairs.
Robert was waiting at the bottom. She put a hand on his
arm.
‘There’s been an accident,’ she said. ‘It – it’s too late to do
anything. Your wife’s dead.’ She repeated the words because he
did not seem to hear them. ‘Angela’s dead, Robert.’
He did not speak, but walked quickly past her and up the
stairs.
She waited. She was shaking now.
Then he called out from above. His voice was quite calm.
‘Phone the police, Mother. Tell them what’s happened.’
Chief Inspector Reginald Wexford was looking at the dead
woman’s pass