Waiting for Wednesday

wouldn’t come. He was too far away.
    ‘Yes, my very darling
Frieda.’
    ‘I hate this.’
    ‘This?’
    ‘All of it.’
    ‘Feeling weak, you mean?’
    ‘That too.’
    ‘Me being here?’ There was a
pause. ‘What’s that noise? Is there a thunderstorm going on?’
    ‘What?’ Frieda looked around and
then realized. She’d almost stopped hearing the sound herself.
‘There’s a new bath being put in.’
    ‘A new bath?’
    ‘It wasn’t exactly my idea. In
fact, it wasn’t my idea at all. It’s a present from Josef.’
    ‘That sounds good.’
    ‘The bath hasn’t arrived yet. So
far there’s just lots of banging and drilling going on. There’s dust
everywhere. Including on several shirts – you left them here.’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘And some kitchen stuff, and a few
books by the bed.’
    ‘That’s because I’m coming
back.’
    ‘Right.’
    ‘Frieda, I’m coming
back.’



SIX
    ‘Is that Detective Chief Inspector
Karlsson?’
    ‘Speaking.’
    ‘Constable Fogle from Camden.
I’ve a Mr Russell Lennox with me.’
    ‘Russell Lennox?’ Karlsson
blinked. ‘Why on earth?’
    ‘He’s been involved in an
affray.’
    ‘I don’t understand. Why would
he be involved in an affray? The poor man’s wife’s just been
murdered.’
    ‘He seems to have caused some criminal
damage. At a Burgess and Son.’
    ‘Ah.’
    He broke a window, not to mention several
pieces of china that the owner seems to think might be worth a good deal, and was also
somewhat threatening.’
    ‘I’m on my way. Treat him
gently, will you?’
    Russell Lennox was in a small interview
room, sitting with his hands plaited together on the table and staring ahead, blinking
every so often as if to clear his vision. When Karlsson came in with the uniformed
officer who had called him, Lennox turned his head. For a few moments it seemed that he
didn’t recognize the detective.
    ‘I’ve come to take you
home,’ said Karlsson, lowering himself into the chair opposite. ‘You know
that you could be prosecuted for affray, assault, whatever?’
    ‘I don’t care.’
    ‘Would that help your
children?’
    Lennox just stared at the table surface and
didn’t reply.
    ‘So you went back to Burgess and
Son?’
    Lennox gave a faint nod. ‘I
couldn’t get it out of my head. Anyway, what else am I supposed to do with my
time? Ruth’s sister Louise is with the children and they don’t want to see
me upset on top of everything else. So, I walked over there, just to check. I saw this
fork.’
    ‘One fork?’ said Karlsson,
doubtfully.
    ‘Ruth’s godmother gave them to
us when we got married. I didn’t care about them or notice them, really, but this
one had a bent spike. That’s how I recognized it. Judith used to get angry if she
was given it at meals. She said it stabbed her gums. I went inside and asked to see it.
Then things got out of hand.’ He looked up at Karlsson. ‘I’m not a
violent man.’
    ‘I think there might be some argument
about that,’ said Karlsson.
    Jeremy Burgess, the owner of Burgess and
Son, was small, skinny, with the wariness of someone who had spent years never quite
getting anything pinned on him. Karlsson was leaning over a glass counter crammed with
medals, old necklaces, cigarette cases, dented snuff boxes, thimbles and small silver
boxes, glittery clip-on earrings and oversized cuff links. He took the fork with its
crooked tine and laid it on the glass.
    ‘Where did this come from?’ he
asked.
    Burgess gestured helplessly. ‘I just
pay in cash for little things like that.’
    ‘I need to know, Mr
Burgess.’
    ‘I’m the one who was attacked.
What’s happening about that? I’m just trying to run a business.’
    ‘Shut up,’ said Karlsson.
‘I know about your business. If the local police aren’t bothered,
that’s their affair. But this isevidence in a murder inquiry,
and if you don’t co-operate, then I will make your life very difficult
indeed.’
    Burgess glanced uneasily at two women on the
other side of the shop who were poring over a tray of rings. He leaned forward and spoke
in a lower tone. ‘I’m just a businessman,’ he said.
    ‘Give me a name and I’ll go
away. Otherwise I’ll send some officers round here to go through this piece by
piece.’
    ‘Billy.’
    ‘Billy who?’
    ‘Billy. Young, dark-haired, thin.
That’s all I know.’
    Curzon’s voice kept coming and going.
He explained that the reception was bad out there on the river. ‘Hunt,’ he
said.