‘Take your time, Pauline,’ the nice officer says neutrally.
She nods her head. ‘Not long before John disappeared – just before he faked his own death – this particular old man, he . . . well, he died very suddenly and without warning. He’d overdosed on his own heart medication. It was quite suspicious, and at the time I couldn’t understand how it’d happened. Because you see’ – she leans in, looking directly at the officer’s moustache – ‘the elderly gentleman didn’t have access to his own medication. Only us – only the staff – did. I was one of only a handful of people with keys to the medication drawer.’ She shakes her head, as Thomas makes more notes,his energy more frantic now. ‘The resident couldn’t have got in there. I couldn’t believe it.’ She sits back in her chair, feeling like Audrey with the smooth half-truths. ‘But then the news came that John had been in this terrible car accident in the Austrian Alps and I didn’t think any more of it. I was . . . well, goodness, a bit distracted by my grief. Grief has tentacles, don’t you know?’ She takes another deep breath and picks the small plastic fridge bag out of her coat pocket, sliding it across the table. ‘And then yesterday I was unpacking my husband’s things – he hasn’t bothered to do it since he got back – and I found these items.’
Thomas leans forward, picking up the bag and examining its contents. There is a key – Pauline’s medicine drawer key for the care home – and a prescription bottle for Digitalis.
The detective sergeant picks up his pen, his moustache twitching with something like excitement. ‘And what was this elderly gentleman’s name, Pauline? The one who died suspiciously? Can you remember?’ he asks, ready to make a note.
Pauline nods, and under the table she feels Teddy’s leg press urgently against her own. ‘Harold Woodbead,’ she tells him with Audrey-style confidence. ‘We called him Handsy Harry at the home.’ She pauses for dramatic effect. ‘Officer, I’m worried that my husband, John, killed Harry.’
43
Pauline is asked to go over her story several more times. Detective Sergeant Thomas Daveys is recording, but he’s also making notes. He seems to be taking this very seriously.
Halfway through a question about why they didn’t have CCTV at the home and how her boss, Gary, complained relentlessly about the meagre budget, the door to the interview room opens. A man with his head down comes in and takes a seat in the dim light at the back of the room. The DS turns, looking irritated. The irritation turns to agitation when he sees who it is.
He clears his throat. ‘Sorry, just a second,’ he tells Pauline and Teddy, getting up. He steps to the man, speaking in urgent, angry whispers.
‘What are you doing in here?’ he hisses. ‘You can’t be here.’
‘Shane at the front desk called me. I want to hear this. I have a right to hear this,’ the man replies.
DS Daveys shakes his head. ‘You’ve been suspended. You’ve got no right at all. Please leave.’
There is a moment of tension, before the man nods and stands. As he and the DS eyeball one another, Pauline supresses a gasp.
She recognises him.
Beside her at the table, she feels Teddy stiffen with shock. They both recognise him.
It’s Dominic Shipman. The awful man they tried to murder. The man they reported for being drunk at the wheel. The police officer with the bungalow.
Is he here because of what they did? Because he knows they were the ones who got him in trouble? How could he know?
Pauline feels her throat constrict and under the table, Teddy’s grip tightens on her leg. It’s clear she’s just as blindsided as Pauline. Why is he here? What’s happening?
DS Daveys ushers Dominic out, still muttering furiously. He shuts the door firmly and turns back to Pauline and Teddy.
‘I’m sorry about my coll—’ he cuts himself off. ‘I’m not going to call him a colleague, actually. He’s been suspended. He never should’ve been here.’
He looks upset then gives himself a shake. ‘Look, I’ve taken up a lot of your time. Let’s leave it here for now. I’ll be in touch with any follow-up questions in the coming days.’
He leads them out, across the foyer, stopping short of the glass doors, where Ivy joins them and DS Daveys begins to say his goodbyes. He gives Pauline a crime reference number and says he will be in touch with an update on the case as soon as he can. He adds that he’s pretty sure they’ve got enough for a proper investigation into John Sheldon and his connection to Harold Woodbead.
‘Hmm, just wait a minute.’ DS Daveys pauses, looking out across the car park. Dominic is still out there. He’s furiously stalking away across the grey expanse, muttering to himself. He stops for a moment, pulling on an old beige coat as he goes. It’s a mac. An old beige mac.
The three of them stare out of the doors after him, something dawning on Pauline.
‘Just wait until he’s gone, if that’s OK. I don’t want him bothering you,’ the DS requests in a low voice. ‘I shouldn’t tell you this, but he’s not a good person. He’s been suspended and there are criminal charges pending.’ He leans in, speaking in a low voice. ‘He was drunk at the wheel and then assaulted one of our colleagues when they tried to bring him in.’ He looks a little embarrassed. ‘I shouldn’t have told you that.’ He sighs. ‘But honestly, I’m ashamed that he was ever a police officer. People like him give the force a bad name. There’s been a big push to sort out our vetting procedures during hiring, but it’s a slow process.’
‘Why was he even interested in our statement?’ Teddy asks, her voice thick as she stares out at the retreating back of Dominic.
DS Daveys sighs. ‘I’m sorry. I think someone here called him when you came in. Dominic worked on the Harold Woodbead case. He got a bit obsessive actually. He was convinced the old man’s wife was involved. Poor old thing, she’s in her eighties from what I hear.’
Pauline watches the horrible little man as he disappears off into the distance. He pulls his coat closer around him in the wind. His Columbo coat.
Columbo. Dominic Shipman is Columbo.
The DS says his goodbyes, and the women step outside, heading for the car. Pauline feels dazed as Teddy turns to face her.
