Waiting for Wednesday

the table and blurted it out. I thought he was joking at
first.’ She grimaced. ‘It’s mad, isn’t it? It can’t be
happening to me. And this woman’s dead. Did he say that I was the one who told him
about it? I saw the story in the paper? I thought she had a nice face. I wonder if she
thought about me when it was all happening.’
    ‘We know it must be a shock,’
said Yvette. ‘Obviously we need to establish people’s movements on the day
that Ruth Lennox died.’
    ‘You mean my husband? I can’t
remember. I’ve looked in the diary but the page is blank. It was just another
Wednesday. Paul says he was definitely here at the time but I don’t remember if I
came home from work first or if he did. I can’t remember if he was later than
usual. If something unusual had happened, I suppose it would have stuck in my
mind.’
    ‘What about your sons?’
    She turned her head. Following her gaze,
Karlsson and Yvette saw the photograph next to the daffodils of two boys, young men
even, both with dark hair and their father’s broad face. One had a scar above his
lip that pulled his smile slightly awry.
    ‘Josh is at university in Cardiff. He
hadn’t come back for Easter by then. The other, Ben, he’s eighteen and he
takes his A levels this year. He lives at home. He’s a bit vague aboutdates. And everything else. I haven’t told them yet about the
affair. After that I can tell them about the murder. That’ll be fun. How long was
it for?’
    ‘Sorry?’
    ‘How long had the affair been going
on?’
    ‘Your husband didn’t tell
you?’
    ‘He said it was more than a fling, but
he still loved me and he hoped I would forgive him.’
    ‘Ten years,’ said Yvette,
calmly. ‘They met on Wednesday afternoons. They rented a flat.’
    Elaine Kerrigan sat up even straighter. Her
face seemed to loosen, the skin grow slack. ‘Ten years.’ They could hear her
swallow.
    ‘And you didn’t know?’
    ‘Ten years, with a flat.’
    ‘And we will also need to conduct a
search here,’ said Yvette.
    ‘I understand.’ Elaine
Kerrigan’s voice was still polite, but it had become faint.
    ‘Have you noticed nothing unusual in
his behaviour?’
    ‘Over the last ten years?’
    ‘Over the last few weeks,
perhaps.’
    ‘No.’
    ‘He hasn’t been upset or
distracted?’
    ‘I don’t think so.’
    ‘You didn’t know that several
hundreds of pounds have been disappearing monthly from your husband’s bank account
to pay for the rooms he rented?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘You never met her?’
    ‘The other woman?’ She gave them
a tired half-smile. ‘I don’t think so. But she lived near here, didn’t
she? Maybe I did.’
    ‘We would be grateful if you could try
to find out exactly what time you and your husband came home on the Wednesday – ask
colleagues at work, perhaps.’
    ‘I’ll do my best.’
    ‘We’ll see ourselves
out.’
    ‘Yes. Thank you.’
    She didn’t stand up as they left, but
stayed sitting upright on the sofa, her long face blank.
    ‘Do you want a drink?’ Yvette
asked Karlsson, trying to sound casual – as if she didn’t care one way or the
other. She heard her voice grate.
    ‘I’m taking the rest of the day
off and I won’t be in tomorrow so I …’
    ‘Fine. Just a suggestion. There was
something I wanted to mention. Frieda rang me.’
    ‘What about?’
    As Yvette described the details of
Frieda’s police interview, Karlsson started to smile but finally he just looked
weary.
    ‘I said she should talk to you about
it, but she said you’d probably had enough of her. You know, after that last time
with Rundell.’
    ‘What is it with her?’ said
Karlsson. ‘There are nightclub bouncers who get into fewer fights than she
does.’
    ‘She doesn’t always choose
them.’
    ‘Yes, but they seem to happen wherever
she goes. Anyway, she rang you. You’d better make a couple of calls.’
    ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean
to bother you with it.’
    Karlsson hesitated, looking at her flushed
face. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. I’m spending the time with my
kids,’ he said gently. ‘They’re going away soon.’
    ‘I didn’t know – how long
for?’
    He found he couldn’t tell her.
‘Quite a long time,’ was all he could manage. ‘So I want to make the
most of this.’
    ‘Of course.’
    Mikey had had his hair cut very short; it
was like soft bristle; his scalp showed through and his ears stuck out. Bella’s
hair had been cut as well, so it was a mass of loose curls around her