Fatal Act: A Geraldine Steel Mystery (Detective Geraldine Steel Mysteries) by Leigh Russell

Author:Leigh Russell [Russell, Leigh]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2014-12-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 35

IT WAS EASY TO see Bethany had inherited her good looks from her mother. Now middle-aged and running to fat, she must have been stunning when she was young. Her present appearance wasn’t improved by her eyes, which were puffy and swollen from crying. She stared blankly as Geraldine introduced herself.

‘We’ve done it,’ she replied, without moving to close the door. ‘It’s done.’

‘I’m sorry? What’s done?’

‘We’ve been to identify her – we’ve seen it –’

She faltered, unable to complete the sentence, while her expression remained wooden. Geraldine guessed she must be sedated.

‘Mrs Marsden, I’m here to ask you a few questions about Bethany.’

‘What for? She’s not coming back.’

‘We don’t believe your daughter’s death was an accident.’

‘I know that. I saw her.’

After a momentary flash of anguish the grieving woman’s eyes glazed over once more. Geraldine pressed on.

‘We need to find out who’s responsible for Bethany’s death.’

Mrs Marsden shrugged.

‘What’s the point now? She’s dead. Nothing’s going to bring her back.’

Geraldine sighed. This was so difficult.

‘Is your husband in?’

‘Gary? Huh. You’ll be wasting your time talking to him.’

Despite her dismissal, she opened the door and gestured for Geraldine to enter.

The living room was crammed: three armchairs, a two-seater settee, several footstools, every spare inch of the carpet hidden beneath occasional tables covered with china dogs, small bunches of silk flowers, glass ornaments, paper weights, and framed photographs, mostly of the dead girl. Among the assortment of colourful chintz furniture, flowery curtains and gaudy ornaments, at first Geraldine didn’t notice an elderly man hunched in an armchair. He didn’t stir when they walked in. Only when his wife called his name loudly did he raise his head. Seeing his face, Geraldine realised he was not as old as his bowed posture and white hair had led her to suppose, no more than sixty.

‘Mr Marsden?’

His eyes slid past her to gaze helplessly at his wife.

‘Gary,’ she called him again, in a very loud voice. Geraldine wondered if he was deaf. ‘Gary, there’s someone here to see you.’

‘Both of you,’ Geraldine added. ‘I’m here to speak to you both.’

Mrs Marsden dropped on to the sofa as though the effort of inviting Geraldine in had sapped her energy. Geraldine perched on an armchair and cleared her throat.

‘I’m so sorry for your loss.’

Neither of them answered.

‘I’m sure you are as keen as we are to discover who carried out this terrible attack on your daughter.’

Bethany’s mother dropped her head in her hands and wept silently. Her father didn’t respond.

Geraldine decided she would have to be blunter. She turned to the woman.

‘Mrs Marsden, I’m sure you want to help us find Bethany’s killer, and bring him to justice.’

‘I told you, didn’t I?’

‘What?’

‘I said there’s no point in talking to Gary. You can’t get much sense out of him at the best of times and now – since we lost Bethany – it’s like he’s –’

She broke off with a helpless gesture, raising her eyebrows.

‘Of course the doctor’s put him on something. Both of us. It’s supposed to help, but look at him.

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