Stop Dead (DI Geraldine Steel)

around ten years ago. The secretary at the law firm obligingly called back straight away with contact details for the retired lawyer, who was happy for Geraldine to call her. Unable to shake off the feeling that Linda held the key to the case, Geraldine preferred to speak to the woman in person. She didn’t want to risk missing any nuance in the conversation. Half an hour after she had first contacted the firm, Geraldine was on her way to Richmond.

     
    The weather was overcast. After a few miles, a steady drizzle began to fall although the autumn sun was shining behind her, lending the air a luminous quality. Geraldine wondered if she would see a rainbow and sure enough before long a faint arc appeared up ahead, spanning the sky. She smiled, hoping it was a good omen. In the meantime, the traffic was building up and she soon regretted her decision to drive. If she had taken the tube she could at least have read the paper on the way. As it was, she listened to the radio and took a minor detour to drive through Richmond Park. She didn’t see any of the famous deer, but the open parkland made a welcome change from the busy streets.

     
    Melissa Joyce lived in a smart terraced house near the river. Geraldine didn’t generally park in restricted zones but on this occasion she had no choice. It was impossible to find a space that wasn’t on a double yellow line or in a residents’ bay. Melissa came to the front door straight away and led the way into a living room, small but tastefully furnished.
    ‘How can I help you? I take it this is about someone I represented?’
    Geraldine nodded.
    ‘You must appreciate a few years have gone by since I left the firm. I can’t promise to remember the details of every case I worked on, but I’ll do what I can. So – what was the case?’

     
    When Geraldine explained the reason for her visit, the other woman’s anxious expression relaxed into a smile.
    ‘Good lord, yes. I certainly remember the Linda Harrison case! I can see the defendant as clearly as if it happened yesterday. She wasn’t the sort of woman you forget. Let me make some coffee and then we’ll get down to it – and perhaps you can tell me why you’re interested in the case after all this time. It must be twenty years since she was convicted and there was no controversy about it at the time. She made a full confession. It was cut and dried. All we could do was plead diminished responsibility, but the jury threw that out straight away. She refused to show any remorse for what she’d done, just insisted she would do it again if she had the chance – ’ Melissa broke off with a sigh. ‘It was a domestic affair, very sad. Now I’ll fetch the coffee and then I’ll answer your questions as best I can after all this time.’

     
    Over coffee Geraldine explained that she wasn’t able to share the reason for her interest. The solicitor nodded her understanding and, without reference to any notes, launched into a detailed account of the case. Linda had been nineteen when she had killed her husband. They had been married for less than two years. She was a strange woman, according to Melissa, with no family to support her. Her parents were both dead and her only sister had died some years before the murder took place. To begin with Linda had blamed the murder on an intruder, but the police had found no evidence of a break in.

     
    ‘What was odd was that she stuck to her guns, insisting the attack was the result of a burglary that went wrong. No amount of questioning could shake her account. And then she altered her story for no reason at all. It wasn’t as though she broke down or anything, she just changed her mind. It was bizarre.’
    She paused, frowning, still puzzled by the memory.
    ‘What happened?’ Geraldine prompted her.
    ‘She claimed she’d murdered him herself. She flatly refused to explain why she had decided to confess, after such strenuous denials. We pleaded self-defence in court, of course, but the jury didn’t go for it because she refused to express any remorse. “I did it so you can punish me for it,” she said, in the most matter-of-fact voice. “If I found out that bastard was still alive, I’d do it again,” was what she said, without a trace of emotion. And the only reason she ever gave was that she didn’t like him. How could we build a case with that?’

     
    Melissa paused to pour more coffee from a gleaming cafetiere.
    ‘All we could do was plead diminished