Shadow Over Edmund Street by Suzanne Frankham (best e reader for android .txt) 📗

When she was five, he was knocked over, killed by a bus. In those days walking into traffic was one way to kill yourself, to make it look like an accident. It meant the wife would receive the insurance. My husband had no doubt it was suicide. To my knowledge, that’s the only time he ever lied. When the insurance company rang him, asked about Mr Nyss’s mental condition, what else could he do? They needed the money so badly.’

Mrs Harkness took the tea Marion offered, put it down carefully on the table and picked up the marmalade cat. She settled him on her lap, stroked his back, tickled him around his ears. Alex could see the comfort these small gestures gave her and waited for her to regain her composure.

‘After the father died, John tried to keep a close eye on the family. He often dropped by when he was out on his rounds. He worried, and a funny thing started to happen. Trudi began to grow up into this frightened little thing. Her mother adored her, doted on her. It didn’t add up. My husband never mentioned anything to me. Not then anyway, you understand. He kept his suspicions to himself, but right from the word go he thought the brother, Edward was tormenting her, almost certainly violent. Dead jealous, you see. He’d been the one and only, then along comes this beautiful baby girl who everyone fusses over. It was textbook. At the end, it ate John up. If he’d done something, maybe Trudi and her mother would have lived. But he had no proof. Only suspicions.’

She stopped talking and took a sip of tea. She had large hands, perfect for a strong practical woman. Too big for the delicate bone china cup she was holding.

‘Then Trudi’s accident happened. John was beside himself. I remember it so clearly. For weeks he couldn’t settle, trying to decide what to do. In the end, he did nothing. The thing is, for Trudi to have landed where she did, the swing must have been hurtling at enormous speed. She landed way over in the far corner of the yard. I can vouch for that. I saw her. Edward insisted Trudi was fooling around. But he was talking nonsense. Trudi would never have fooled around. She was a nervous little thing, it wasn’t in her nature. When we got there, Edwina was paralysed by fear. She didn’t talk for months. My husband organised some counselling for her, but nothing ever came of it. She refused to talk about the accident. Poor child.’

Mrs Harkness sighed. ‘John was quite sure of what must have happened. Edward would have been terrorising Trudi on the swing, pushing her higher and higher. The rope would have been twisting and turning. She would have been so scared, poor darling, and then the rope must have broken near the top of the arc. Even if John could have made his case to the police, he thought it would have been classed as an accident.’

The cup shook in her hand. Mrs Harkness leant forward, put it on the table and pushed it away. She went back to stroking

the cat.

‘It had quite an effect on our family too you know. John couldn’t let it go. That’s part of the reason why we went away the next year to England. There was a conference he was keen to attend and he decided we’d go as a family and spend a couple of months there over the English summer. Have a bit of fun, for a change. It was a big thing to do at the time. He got a locum in, a young chap, very keen, just out from South Africa.’

‘It was winter when we were away. When we got back there’d been a flu epidemic. Three of John’s patients had died. Two of them were old, one eighty-something, the other over ninety, so not really a huge surprise. But the third one was Trudi’s mother. John was devastated. He went over and over it. Went through her files and quizzed the locum so much it began to be very awkward. In fact, he returned to South Africa soon afterwards. Nevertheless, the locum was adamant. It appears Mrs Nyss did have the flu. Edward had called the doctor to the house twice, but then she died. John thought the locum had been fooled by Edward. You know, the son trying to do the right thing, taking care of his grief-stricken mother. The locum bought it—hook, line and sinker—that the mother had developed pneumonia and given in, after losing her husband and then Trudi. Both in such shocking circumstances. He bought the grieving son thing. Spoke highly of Edward, how he’d cared for his mother.’

‘And your husband?’ Alex broke in. ‘I take it he didn’t think so?’

‘My husband thought Edward had suffocated her.’

‘But wouldn’t the locum have seen some evidence?’

‘If he’d been looking, he would have. But what he’d seen was a devoted son caring for his sick mother. He was young, wasn’t expecting a son who … I can’t say it,’ Mrs Harkness said. ‘I can’t bring myself to say it. But John was convinced. And he was one of the most sensible people I’ve ever met.’

‘There was nothing he could do?’ asked Marion.

‘Nothing. The body had been cremated. Unusual in those days. Especially for Catholics. Soon after, Edward sold the house and moved away. I thought John had put it behind him, but he hadn’t. Then a few years ago he found out Edward had been appointed to the bench. It was when he read the article I haven’t spoken about.’ She nodded towards the folder. ‘It ate him up. It was the one thing he hadn’t come to terms with before he died. That somehow Edward got away with murder.

More than once.’

* ‘I need a coffee, Alex. A strong one.’

Alex put his hand