The Lipstick Killers

you?’
    ‘I need to speak to Mrs Smith,’ he said.’ Something’s come up.’
    ‘I’m her sister. You can talk to me.’
    ‘Sorry. I need to speak to Mrs Smith personally.’
    ‘Then you’d better come in.’

17
     
     
     
    Margaret showed the policeman into the living room. ‘Can I get you anything?’ she asked.
    ‘Just Mrs Smith,’ he replied, quite obviously dismissing her.
    Mags walked out of the room and left him standing there as she went upstairs. ‘It’s the police,’ she said, knocking on Sharon’s door. ‘Some big-headed DI. He wants to see you.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Dunno. He wasn’t very forthcoming. Didn’t take to me at all. It’s obvious he knows all about what happened in London. My suspension. Must have done his homework .’ She cursed the fact that the consequences of that day continued to follow her around.
    ‘You’ll come with me?’
    ‘Of course.’
    They both went downstairs to where DI Mahoney was pacing up and down the carpet. ‘Mrs Smith,’ he said to Sharon as they entered the room.
    Sharon nodded.
    ‘I need to speak with you… privately.’ He gave Margaret a look.
    ‘I want my sister to stay,’ said Sharon.
    Mahoney blew out a breath, not best pleased. ‘She doesn’t need to be here,’ he said, not looking at Mags.
    ‘I’ll be the best judge of that,’ said Sharon, her voice hard.
    ‘Very well, if you insist.’
    ‘I do. Please sit down.’
    Mahoney took an armchair, Margaret and Sharon sat on the sofa. Margaret shut the door before she sat down.
    ‘Mrs Smith,’ said Mahoney, referring to a notebook he took from his pocket. ‘First of all let me say how sorry I am for your loss. You and your family.’ He gave Margaret another long look. ‘But something new has come up in the course of our investigations.’
    ‘What?’ asked Sharon, perplexed.
    ‘As you know,’ Mahoney went on. ‘We removed the car from the crash site and took it to be examined at our garage. Our technicians went over it and found something .’
    ‘What?’ Sharon again.
    ‘The truck driver who witnessed the accident said that the car seemed to speed up instead of slow down on the hill. It seems the brakes were tampered with – the servo, so that the brake fluid leaked away. It was an inexact attempt at sabotage. The brakes could have failed just parking up outside the house. But unfortunately not.’
    ‘Are you serious?’ said Margaret, incredulously.
    ‘I’m afraid so.’
    ‘Wait a minute. Couldn’t it have happened on impact?’ Mags looked at her sister, whose face was a picture of horror. ‘Sorry Sharon, but this is crazy.’
    The detective shook his head. ‘No. Not possible. Our technicians are convinced. A team has been out to the crash site and they found brake fluid on the road.’ Mahoney again turned to Sharon. ‘I understand your husband was returning back from near the coast.’
    Sharon nodded.
    ‘A business meeting, I believe.’
    Another nod.
    ‘He was an accountant,’ he said, looking again at his notebook.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Do you know where exactly the meeting was held?’
    ‘No. A hotel or restaurant I believe, but I don’t know where. Monty just said it was near the coast.’
    ‘Isn’t that rather strange? Out of office hours, in a public place?’
    ‘I think they’d take a private room. I don’t know. You know these businessmen, they do most of their important work over fancy three-course dinners. My husband’s clients were sometimes very demanding,’ said Sharon, her tone slightly imperious.
    ‘How so?’
    ‘Odd hours. Phone calls in the middle of the night. He didn’t discuss his business with me.’
    ‘But you don’t know where this particular meeting was taking place?’
    ‘She just said she didn’t know,’ interjected Margaret, glaring at the detective.
    ‘That’s another thing,’ said Mahoney, ignoring her. ‘I’m sorry to bring this up Mrs Smith, but when examined , your husband was over the legal limit for alcohol.’
    Sharon started to cry.
    Margaret held her hand and said. ‘My sister’s upset as you can see. Do we have to continue this now?’
    ‘I’m fine,’ said Sharon. ‘Can I have some water?’
    Margaret got to her feet. ‘This is not the time,’ she said to Mahoney, although she knew it was. She knew she would have done exactly the same thing in his shoes.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ he replied. ‘But you know as well as I do…’ He didn’t finish the sentence.
    Margaret nodded. ‘Do you want