Sarah stepped hurriedly out of the playroom and approached the tall man whose long shadow seemed to stretch out unnaturally along the corridor.
‘I can stay with the children,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m Mrs Cadell, Mrs Pattison’s mother.’
‘Yes,’ Lorimer said, taking off his gloves and clasping her hand. ‘We met before,’ he added.
Sarah Cadell took in a sudden breath. It was not just the strength of that warm hand closing on her own, but the directness of his gaze and those blue eyes … lovely eyes, she thought, eyes that should be painted by a master, but eyes that would surely follow you around any room looking down from their face in a portrait.
‘You will be kind…?’ she asked falteringly as he released her hand.
But all she received by way of an answer was a tired sort of smile and a nod of the head. Sarah stood, helplessly, unable to decide whether to go back to the room next door or creep upstairs and join the children.
She watched as they moved into the drawing room then sighed as Lorimer closed the door firmly behind them.
*
Catherine Pattison did not rise as the men entered the room. Instead she merely turned her head and stared, an expression of defiance etched on her handsome features.
‘Mrs Pattison,’ Lorimer said, then turned his attention to a slim blonde who had risen to her feet, hand outstretched.
‘Belinda Joseph. Joseph, Connery and partners,’ the woman told him. ‘I’m Mrs Pattison’s solicitor,’ she added in a slightly patronising tone as though it were necessary to spell things out in plain English for this man from Glasgow.
‘Detective Superintendent Lorimer,’ he replied briefly. ‘Now,’ he said, turning to gaze at Catherine Pattison. ‘Would you like to tell me why you’ve been wasting so much police time, Mrs Pattison?’
‘I’ve instructed my client to say nothing,’ Belinda Joseph stated with a toss of her head that made her blonde ponytail swish. For an absurd moment she reminded Lorimer of a well-bred racehorse, nervy and highly strung.
‘Well, if that’s the case perhaps I should ask Mrs Pattison to accompany us to Glasgow,’ he began, watching the reaction in the two women’s faces.
Catherine Pattison opened her mouth to speak, her cheeks suddenly turning white but the solicitor raised a hand to stop her, eyes flashing angrily.
‘Are you threatening my client?’ she asked, hands on her hips. ‘If so, I can report you—’
‘Let’s get one thing absolutely clear,’ Lorimer stormed, cutting across the woman before she could utter another word. ‘This is a serious murder case and Mrs Pattison has already lied to me about her alibi for the night on which her husband was killed. I want to know why. And if I don’t get the answers here I can try to get them back at police headquarters.’ He turned to Catherine Pattison, fixing her with his blue gaze, adding sternly, ‘Even if I have to arrest you on suspicion of murdering your husband!’
The gasp from the doorway made them all turn to see Mrs Cadell who was standing, hands by the sides of her face.
‘No!’ she said. ‘You can’t do that! It wasn’t what you think … ’
‘Mother!’ Catherine Pattison was on her feet now, her face a mask of terror. ‘Don’t!’
‘I have to,’ the old lady said, stumbling forward and catching hold of the back of a chair. ‘It’s no use, Catherine, they have to know the truth.’
‘Mrs Cadell.’ The solicitor stepped forward and made as if to take the old lady’s hand but Sarah Cadell shook her off.
‘No, the detective superintendent needs to know what’s been going on here. There have been too many lies told already,’ she said.
‘Mrs Pattison?’ Lorimer murmured quietly, moving around the room so that Catherine Pattison could not avoid looking up at him. ‘Perhaps you would prefer to tell me what this is all about?’
Catherine Pattison shot an anguished glance at the solicitor who merely shrugged then looked at Sarah Cadell who was clutching the back of the chair to steady herself.
‘Come and sit down, Mother,’ she said softly. ‘I’m sorry. It’s been such a strain for us all.’
Lorimer rose to assist the old lady into a vacant chair so that the three women were sitting side by side. He remained standing, hands behind his back, deliberately towering over them as though to symbolise the presence of law and order.
Catherine Pattison sat up a little straighter then cleared her throat. ‘My husband was not a faithful man,’ she began. There was a pause as she bit her