Free Cold Sacrifice by Leigh Russell Page A

Martins.
    ‘They own the whole house,’ she said, a touch sharply, as though that was something reprehensible. ‘Just the two of them and that boy of theirs.’
    Ian guided her gently to talk about the arguments she had overheard.
    ‘I don’t like to eavesdrop, but in the summer when I sit out on the patio, I can’t help hearing them. It’s not like I go out specially to hear what’s going on in there.’
    Ian nodded to indicate he understood.

    After a few more minutes talking around the subject, Mrs Jamieson tackled the issue of her neighbours’ rows.
    ‘He screams at her, I mean really yelling. It would make a trooper blush, the way that man talks to his wife – talked to her, I suppose I should say. Well, let’s hope she’s gone to a better place.’
    She shook her head sadly, and offered Ian another cup of tea which he declined.
    ‘What kind of things did he say?’
    ‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly repeat what he said. Such foul language. It was shameful, really it was, for a man to speak to his wife like that.’
    ‘Can you remember what they argued about?’
    ‘Oh, all sorts from the sound of it. Anything and everything. He didn’t like this, and he didn’t like that, this wasn’t right, and that wasn’t right. It was endless. And then there was the divorce.’
    ‘The divorce?’
    ‘Yes, he wanted a divorce. He was always on at her about it.’
    ‘And what did she say about it?’
    ‘The honest truth is that I never heard a peep out of her. She wasn’t one to raise her voice. But she can’t have agreed to a divorce, because whenever it came up he used to scream and shout at her for being obstinate. Though God only knows why she refused to get divorced. It can’t have been much of a life, living with a foul-mouthed man like him. She’d have done far better to have given him his divorce and got clean away. Still, she didn’t, and now look what’s happened. If he couldn’t be shot of her one way… ’

    Ian looked up from his notebook.
    ‘Are you suggesting Mr Martin killed his wife as a way of ending his marriage?’
    ‘Well, he couldn’t get away from her any other way, could he? Not with her refusing to get a divorce.’
    ‘But that doesn’t mean he was responsible for her death.’
    ‘Oh doesn’t it?’ she asked, with a knowing smile.
    Ian was irritated. He wasn’t there to play guessing games.
    ‘Mrs Jamieson, if you have any evidence to suggest that Mr Martin was implicated, directly or indirectly, in his wife’s death, you must tell me. Otherwise this is all just speculation and gossip.’

    Startled by his peremptory tone, she dropped her coy expression and continued gravely.
    ‘It’s only what I heard about him insisting he wanted a divorce and getting angry with her for refusing. But he did threaten to kill her, I’m sure of that. I heard him. I was out in the garden, on the patio, reading my book, or trying to with them having one of their set-tos next door. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, just the faint drone of her voice in the background.’
    ‘So you couldn’t be sure it was Martha he was speaking to?’
    ‘No, except that he was begging her for a divorce, so it must’ve been her, mustn’t it? Anyway, he was going on and on about it, and threatening to make her sorry. She must have said something like, “over my dead body” or, “you’ll have to kill me first” because he shouted out, “I bloody well will kill you, if that’s what it takes to get rid of you”.’
    ‘Are you sure that’s what you heard?’
    ‘As clear as I can hear you now. He must have been standing right by the open window.’
    ‘And you couldn’t have been mistaken?’
    ‘No. I remember it, word for word. It’s not the sort of thing you forget. I was sitting quietly, minding my own business, in the garden, and I heard him shouting at her. It upset me, I can tell you.’

    As Ian scribbled down the wording, Mr Jamieson leaned forward and patted his wife on her