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Alice frowned. “Unconscious? But how…?”
“Sleeping pills, perhaps. But we don’t know anything for certain yet. That’s why I need to talk to you.”
Eric came back with a glass of water and a pill and handed them to Alice. “What’s this?” she asked, looking at the pill.
“Your Valium,” he said. “I just thought you might need it.”
Alice set the pill aside. “I’m fine,” she said, and sipped some water.
“He was a useless pillock,” Eric said.
“Pardon?” A
“Her ex. Roly-poly. He was a prize pillock.”
“Eric, don’t be so disrespectful.”
“Well, he was. I’m only telling the truth, Allie, and you know it. Why else are you here with me while he was off living in a poky caravan in a godforsaken field somewhere? He was a loser.”
“Mr. Mowbray,” A
“I heard you the first time round, love. And I say it doesn’t make a scrap of difference. He was a useless pillock while he was alive, and he’s a useless pillock dead.”
A
“Never mind,” said A
“I don’t know if Roland ever went after he left,” said Alice, “but we went to Grunwell’s, on Market Street. Our family doctor’s Dr. Robertson, at the clinic on the Leaside Estate.”
A
“We don’t know much about your ex-husband,” A
“He was just ordinary, really,” said Alice.
“You can say that again,” said Eric Mowbray.
“Shut up, Eric,” said Alice.
A
Mowbray got up. “Fine with me. I’ve got work to do, anyway.”
After he’d left the conservatory, the two women let the silence stretch a few moments, then Alice said, “He’s a good sort, really, Eric. Just got a bit of a sore spot where Roland’s concerned.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“Because he’s my ex. Eric’s the jealous type.”
“I see,” said A
“Not of Roland.”
“What does Mr. Mowbray do for a living?”
“He’s in computers. He makes very good money. Look at this conservatory. It certainly wasn’t here when me and Roland were together. Nor the Volvo. And we’re having our holidays in Florida in February. We’re going to Disney World.”
“Very nice. Do you own any other vehicles?”
“Eric used to have a Citroën, but he sold it.”
“No Jeep or Range Rover?”
“No. Why?”
“Was Roland a successful businessman?”
“I often thought he was in the wrong business,” Alice said. “He just wasn’t that much of a salesman. Didn’t have the oomph. Didn’t have an ounce of ambition in his entire being. No get-up-and-go at all. Sometimes I thought he’d have been far better off as a schoolteacher, maybe. And happier. Still, he wouldn’t have earned much money at that, either, would he?”
Money seemed to figure large in Alice Mowbray’s view of the universe, A
“It would have been a bit difficult for him, wouldn’t it?”
“Why? Lots of people get made redundant and find new jobs.”
“Redundant? That’s a good one. Where on earth did you get that idea?”
“Your husband didn’t lose his job?”
“Oh, Roland lost his job, all right, but it wasn’t through redundancy. No. He was fired. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I never thought he had it in him.”
“Had what in him?”
“He’d been on the fiddle, hadn’t he?”
“Had he?”
“Yes. Something to do with forging orders and cooking the books. Stealing from the company. I must say he didn’t have a lot to show for it, but that’s typical Roland, that is. Small-time, even as a crook. No ambition.”
“Can you tell me the name of the company he worked for?”
Alice told her. A
“Did Roland have any enemies?”
“Enemies? Roland? He was too much of a mouse to make enemies. Never offended a soul. He’d never stand in anyone’s way enough to make an enemy. No, Roland was likable enough, I’ll give him that. He had a natural charm. People liked him. Perhaps because he was so passive, so easygoing. He’d do anything for anyone.”
“This forgery business, did he have a partner?”
“Did it all by himself. As I said, you could have knocked me over with a feather.”
“How long were you married?”
“Ten years.”
“Quite late in life, then?”
Alice narrowed her eyes. “For Roland, yes. He was thirty-two when we married.”
A
“Neither of us had. I must admit, he turned my head. He could be a real charmer, could Roland. Until you got to know him, of course, then you saw how empty it all was.”
“Was the divorce amicable?”
“As amicable as these things go. He didn’t have anything I wanted, despite his little business on the side, and he seemed quite willing to let me keep the house.”
“You didn’t want the caravan?”
“The caravan? I hated the bloody thing! That was typical Roland, though. Soon as we did have a bit of extra cash, off he goes and buys a bloody caravan. That was his idea of a good time: two weeks in a caravan at Primrose Valley or Flamborough Head. I ask you.”
“So there was no unsettled business between you?”
“I got on with my life, and he got on with his.”
“Mr. Mowbray, your present husband, when did he come on the scene?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you meet him before or after you split up with Roland?”
Alice paused a few moments before answering. “Before,” she said. “But things were already over for Roland and me.”
A
“What did you do last night?”
If Alice found the question offensive, she didn’t let on. “We were out to di
“Can you give me the address? Just routine, for the paperwork.”
Alice gave it to her.
“Do you think Roland might have committed suicide?”
“I don’t think he had the guts. It might have been something he’d think of, but when it came to it, he’d bottle out. And certainly not in a fire. He wasn’t exactly the most physically brave man I’ve ever met. He used to make enough fuss about going to the dentist’s, for crying out loud.”
“Can you give me a list of his friends?”
“Friends? Roland? There was no one close. I can probably come up with a few names of people who knew him, mostly from work, but I don’t think they’ll be able to tell you any more than I can.”
“Was he secretive, then?”
“I suppose so. Just quiet, though, mostly. I don’t think he really had much to talk about.”
“Do you happen to have a photograph of him? As recent as possible?”
“I might have one or two,” Alice said. “Would you excuse me for a moment?”
A