‘Absolutely. I should contact him, make sure he’s been paid. Did he give you a contact number or an address?’ She shook her head, wanting to keep the number he’d written in the book to herself. ‘Oh well, I’m sure he’ll be in touch with us if he needs the money. Was it his idea that you make a will out there?’
He seemed suspicious, worried perhaps, about what influence the mysterious Lucas might have had on her. Before she could answer, the boys’ excited shouts burst out of the house and onto the lawn. Harry was carrying a tennis racket, George a ball.
They ran across to them, shouting, ‘Ella, come and play with us.’
Simon raised his eyebrows, making clear he wouldn’t offer an escape route.
‘Let me guess: French cricket?’ She was already standing but said to Simon, ‘No, that was my idea. I’ve left everything to you, then to the boys.’
He looked reassured. ‘Okay, let’s have no more talk of death. We’ll have enough of that in the next few weeks to last a lifetime.’ She smiled, amused by his unfortunate choice of words, then joined the boys.
It was a relief to play games for a while. She’d wanted to hear about the business, to know something of the truth, but she was already sick of the details, wanting simply to forget it all and leave it in Simon’s hands.
For half an hour or so, the only things that mattered were the minor disputes over whether George or Harry was out or not, each of them appealing to her like she was an omniscient umpire. Then Simon called her back to the house. As she approached, she could see two people behind him in the living room.
He sounded falsely cheerful. ‘Police are here to have a little chat with you.’
‘Okay.’ She followed him in.
‘This is my niece, Ella. This is—now let me get this right—Detective Inspector Graham Thorburn and Detective Sergeant Vicky Welsh.’
Thorburn was wearing a tie but no jacket, his hair slicked back in a high-maintenance style. He was probably about thirty, but Welsh looked not much older than Ella, her hair short, wearing a light skirt and a short loose blouse. She smiled at Ella even before they were introduced.
‘Please, call us Graham and Vicky.’ They shook hands.
‘Probably best to use the library,’ said Simon. ‘Oddly enough, it’s the only room the boys don’t use as a racetrack.’
As he led them through, Graham Thorburn said, ‘You don’t mind if we speak to Ella alone?’
Ella wondered if it was a challenge, an attempt to rattle him, but Simon was calm. ‘Not at all. Just give me a call if you need me for anything.’ He left and they sat down, Ella on one sofa, the other two on the one facing it across a coffee table laid out with dusted but untroubled art books.
Vicky Welsh looked around the room and said, ‘It’s a beautiful house your uncle has here.’
‘Yes, I suppose it is. Like an off-the-shelf Agatha Christie house.’
Her colleague laughed and, still smiling, said, ‘Okay, Ella, if you feel up to it we’d just like to ask a few questions. If they seem intrusive it’s only because we’re determined to explore every channel in finding the person or persons who murdered your family.’
‘Of course.’
‘Good. First and most obvious then, can you think of anyone who might have had a grudge against your father or family or any reason why someone might have been moved to these actions?’ Ella noticed that Vicky Welsh had taken a notebook out and was poised to record her answers. ‘I want you even to recall if your father had any arguments in person or on the phone, if he ever seemed agitated in any way.’
‘No.’ She felt a little guilty offering such a short response to such a long question, but it was the truth. Still, she added, ‘I can’t remember the last time I saw him stressed about anything. It makes me wonder how well I really knew him.’
‘Why? What makes you say that?’ Clearly they were hoping she’d spill some of the truths she’d learned in the last day or two.
‘Well, he must have been stressed if he was so afraid of me being kidnapped. Okay, I’m sure all parents worry, but not enough to hire a bodyguard.’
‘Yes, I see. And you say this bodyguard never told you his name?’
‘That’s right. He told us we didn’t need to know it. After seeing what he did we weren’t in any mood to press him.’
‘And you stayed at his house but you don’t know where?’ He sounded mildly skeptical.
‘There was a small town nearby. I’d know the name if I saw it again—I just don’t remember it.’
‘That’s okay.’ Thorburn looked like he’d given up on the subject of Lucas, something in his manner suggesting he didn’t believe a word of what she was saying about him. ‘Your parents, were they happy? I mean, their marriage . . .’
‘Yes, very.’
He smiled and said, ‘What about your dad and your uncle—how was their relationship?’
‘Good.’
‘You never heard them argue about the business?’ He was talking like Simon was a suspect and she wanted to ask if that was the case, holding off only because it seemed like the kind of clichéd question people always asked in TV crime dramas.
‘I never heard them argue at all. And they never discussed business.’