Devil in the Detail by A.J. Cross (love letters to the dead .TXT) 📗

Lawrence gazed coldly at her. ‘Seb is a dear friend of mine and Mike’s. He’s fairly elderly, a very kind man, also, a very lonely one. He gave me those earrings as a wedding present. They belonged to his wife who died several years ago.’ She straightened. ‘I want those earrings back. In fact, you can fetch all of my property right now because I’m leaving.’ She stood. Watts did the same.

Judd looked up at her. ‘Sit down, Mrs Lawrence. This interview hasn’t finished.’

After a tense few seconds, she sat. Judd reached out, turned over the first sheet, pointed, then pointed to the second. ‘This is a copy of a receipt dated January last year, bearing a description of those earrings and that Mr Engar paid for them with his credit card. He has confirmed that you and he began an intimate relationship very shortly after, that you wanted to end your marriage and were pressing him to make the relationship formal between the two of you, which he declined to do.’

They watched Lawrence’s eyes move over the printed words, watched their relevance sink in. She pushed the sheets away. ‘What’s written here is what he was hoping for. What he wanted. Why would I want a man in his fifties when I had Mike?’ She reached for the sheets, crumpled them in both hands, threw them to the floor. ‘It’s ridiculous. As ridiculous as me supposedly shooting myself.’

‘Our in-house pathologist, Dr Chong, has revised her opinion on your injuries.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘And the hospital pathologist has re-evaluated them, particularly the close proximity of the entry and exit wounds and the angle of the bullet. He agrees with Dr Chong. He is willing to state that your injuries could have been self-inflicted.’

Lawrence gave a mocking smile. ‘“Could have”. Any lawyer would drive a tank through that kind of prevarication.’

‘Mrs Lawrence, I have one last matter which I need to raise with you. It is not connected to your husband’s murder, but this investigation is now regarding it as of interest and likely to form part of the case against you. This is a copy of the coroner’s report on the death of your sister ten years ago’ – Lawrence’s eyes darkened – ‘which gives an “open” verdict.’ Judd slid it across the table. ‘You’re welcome to read it. You’ll see that it’s very clear that foul play could not be ruled out. Do you have a response?’

‘No. I’m just enjoying this farce! Seeing how far you’re willing to go.’

‘Mrs Lawrence, we’ve examined the timing of events of the evening your husband was shot. We’ve spoken to residents local to where it occurred.’ Judd sat forward. ‘According to our information, those shots were fired prior to ten p.m. At around nine thirty, to be exact.’ She paused. ‘You delayed your emergency call until ten thirty-five so that you could be as certain as possible that your husband was at the very least incapable of communicating with any help that would arrive. You need to properly engage with the information I’ve shown you, rather than dismissing it.’ She instinctively sat back as Molly Lawrence’s face came towards hers.

‘Why should I care what you have?’ Her eyes slid over Judd. ‘You, with your boring suit and your ghastly hair. I’m not interested in anything you’ve got to say.’ She sat back and folded her arms, her eyes fixed on Watts. ‘I don’t care for the way I’m being questioned, nor your colleague’s accusatory attitude towards me. She’s taking so-called evidence at face value, believing what other people say. She’s not listening to me. I demand legal representation. Get it for me, now.’

‘It’s going to take a while.’

‘So? Arrange it!’

Getting an almost imperceptible nod from Watts, Judd reached for the recording machine. ‘This interview is concluded at …’ She added the time.

They both stood and went to the door. Watts signalled to an officer who came inside and led Molly Lawrence from the room.

They walked into the observation room where Traynor was waiting. Watts headed to the water cooler, filled a paper cup and drank. It was a while before he broke the heavy silence. ‘She knows all we’ve got on her, she’s got no plausible explanation for any of it and now she’s decided she wants representation.’ He dropped the cup into the waste basket. ‘Mad as it sounds, I think she’s actually enjoying the attention.’

‘She is,’ said Traynor. ‘Just as she enjoyed the attention of the re-enactment. She also loves the game playing involved. And she’ll want something from you.’

Watts looked across at Traynor. ‘Like, what?’

‘She’ll want to make some kind of deal.’

‘A deal?’ They both stared at him, Watts searching for words. ‘We know what she’s done. She knows we know!’ To Judd, he said, ‘As soon as the duty solicitor arrives, we’re in there to formally arrest her.’

‘You need to understand that Molly Lawrence is her own creation. She doesn’t reflect on her actions. Pushed into a corner, she merely blames others.’

Watts huffed. ‘She’s facing a long prison sentence, which will give her plenty of time to “reflect”.’

Traynor shook his head. ‘She will never accept personal responsibility for what she’s done.’

‘She’s got no option,’ snapped Watts.

‘She thinks she has. Everything is possible as far as she is concerned. When her representation arrives, she’ll tell him or her what it is that she wants.’

‘Which is what, exactly?’

‘An admission of guilt in exchange for a special hospital sentence.’

Judd’s mouth fell open. Watts stared at him. ‘In her dreams. That’s a court decision.’ He paused. ‘What’s the payoff of special hospital for her?’

‘An opportunity to manipulate everybody, including staff, maybe get out.’

‘Wherever she serves her sentence, that won’t happen for years and I’ll be at every parole hearing to make sure she stays put.’

‘I doubt her plans involve legitimate release.’

‘You’re saying she’s an escape risk?’

‘She’s devious, highly manipulative, so, yes.’

Their heads came up at raised voices coming from nearby. Watts headed for the door, opened it,