Stop Dead (DI Geraldine Steel)

understand why you’d want to conceal the truth, now there’s no longer any risk of your husband finding out. If you persist in lying, I’ll have to conclude that you have something else to hide.’
    Amy closed her eyes while tears gathered and spilled down her cheeks. Geraldine waited.

     
    At last Amy gave a deep shuddering sigh and opened her eyes.
    ‘Yes.’
    Her voice was hardly above a whisper.
    ‘I was seeing someone. But it’s over. I haven’t seen him for – six months.’
    Hesitation gave her away, indicating the affair was still going on.
    ‘Who is he?’
    Amy shook her head.
    ‘It’s over,’ she insisted. ‘I don’t think it’s relevant who he is.’
    ‘I’ll decide what may or may not be relevant, Mrs Henshaw. Why did you lie about it?’
    Amy began to cry.
    ‘It’s over,’ she insisted. ‘It’s over.’

     
    Geraldine leaned forward.
    ‘We know that’s not true,’ she fibbed.
    She couldn’t be sure the affair hadn’t finished – but when Amy’s eyes widened, Geraldine knew her accusation was accurate. Abruptly, Amy dropped her head in her hands and broke down in tears. After that, it didn’t take Geraldine long to learn the identity of Amy’s lover.
    ‘He’s got nothing to do with all this,’ Amy insisted tearfully. ‘Please – please –’
    She broke off, weeping noisily.

     
    Now that she had discovered what she needed to know, Geraldine stood up. She felt sorry for the woman’s distress, but her sympathy was tempered by the suspicion that Amy might be responsible for the cold blooded murder of her husband. It was a horrible thought, but there was no time to dwell on it. She informed Amy that someone would be round shortly to take a DNA sample in order to eliminate her from the enquiry, and left.

     
    It was hard to focus on anything else while they waited for the results of the DNA test, especially with Sam so hopeful that Amy was at least implicated in the murder.
    ‘I’m guessing it was the two of them in it together, her and the boyfriend,’ she told Geraldine. ‘I can’t wait for the results of the DNA test. Amy’s already tried to pull the wool over our eyes about her affair. Why would she lie about it now her husband’s dead, unless she’s got something else to hide? If she’s prepared to lie about that, for sure she’d lie about killing her husband.’

     
    Thinking it all over when she got home, Geraldine thought she could understand why a forty-year-old woman might want to conceal her relationship with a twenty-three-year-old man, even if her husband hadn’t just been brutally murdered in what appeared to be a very personal attack. There were all sorts of reasons why she might want to keep her two lives separate. For a start, the young man might not know how old his mistress was. Lost in speculation, Geraldine was startled by her phone and nearly dropped it as she lunged for it on the side table. She was neither surprised nor particularly pleased to hear her sister’s voice.

     
    ‘Geraldine, how are you?’ Celia asked earnestly, as though Geraldine was suffering from some sort of terminal cancer. ‘We haven’t heard from you for ages.’
    Geraldine assured her she was fine and asked after Celia’s husband and daughter. That was a mistake. Celia could talk about her daughter for hours. She listened politely for as long as she could contain her impatience before she interrupted, insisting she had to go. Promising to call back when she had more time, she rang off.

CHAPTER 21
     
    G uy was traced to a company that installed double glazing and bespoke conservatories. The next morning, Geraldine and Sam went to question Amy’s young lover.
    ‘Guy Barrett?’ the woman on reception repeated. She checked a ledger and nodded uncertainly.
    ‘Yes, he’s out on a job right now, but I’m not sure I can give you the customer’s address – I mean, I don’t think Mr Reynolds would like it if you interrupted the work, but I should have Guy’s address here somewhere. I’ll have to fish around for it. The system’s down, I’m afraid.’
    With a sigh she began flicking through a file.

     
    At five o’clock they arrived outside Guy’s flat just off the main Holloway Road. He didn’t answer the door, so they returned to the car to wait for him to come home. The mild September was changing with a hint of cold weather to come and a light steady drizzle began to fall as Geraldine settled further down in her seat. Just before half past six