Free Dead End by Leigh Russell Page A

Saturday?’
    Beneath her golden curls, Charlotte's blue eyes gazed at Geraldine, troubled and defiant. ‘Yes, he came over – it's not a crime –’ She sounded close to tears.
    ‘Charlotte, your relationship with Matthew Kirby isn't our concern.’ Geraldine allowed a hint of impatience to creep into her voice and Charlotte Fox responded to her brisk tone.
    ‘Yes, we're seeing each other. He's good to me.’ She fiddled with a gold chain at her neck. ‘He wants to marry me.’
    ‘Did you know his wife?’
    ‘I've never met her. Or his children. Matthew didn't want his children to know about me. He told his wife because he wanted a divorce but she refused to give him one. That was typical of her. She didn't want him herself, but she wouldn't let him go.’ She stopped suddenly and looked down, afraid she had been indiscreet.
    ‘Charlotte, where were you on Saturday afternoon between one and four?’
    She shook her head. ‘I don't know. I was here.’
    ‘Can anyone confirm that?’
    ‘Matthew came round.’
    ‘Did anyone else know you were here?’
    Charlotte hesitated. ‘I phoned my mother –’ she said at last.
    ‘Did you make the call from a landline?’ Peterson asked.
    ‘No. I've got free minutes on my mobile.’
    ‘Did you leave your flat at all on Saturday?’
    ‘Yes. I went to Tescos in the morning. I must have been gone for a couple of hours. After that I came home and did some chores, ironing and stuff. Matthew came round after lunch. We talked about him getting a divorce. We talk about it all the time. I'm worried about his daughter – she's only fourteen – but he says she'll come round. He says his daughter's sure to like me, and we'll get married as soon as his divorce goes through. I mean, we still will, only there won't be a divorce now.’ She frowned and bit her lip. ‘He's a widower, isn't he? I mean, we're free now, aren't we? Everything will be all right now, won't it?’
    Geraldine gazed into the other woman's worried eyes. ‘Charlotte, we believe Abigail Kirby was murdered. Now, let's start again. You say you were here in the afternoon, on your own, until Matthew Kirby turned up. What time did he arrive?’
    Charlotte shrugged. ‘I don't know. I didn't look. He just came round and we talked, that's all.’
    ‘And what time did he leave?’
    ‘I don't know. It was late. After midnight.’
    ‘And he was here with you all that time? Think carefully, Charlotte, this could be important. Did Matthew Kirby leave you at all during the afternoon? Did either of you leave the flat for any reason that afternoon or evening?’
    ‘No. I told you. He came round and he stayed here, with me, until late. Neither of us went out. I'm sure of it.’
    Geraldine told Charlotte Fox not to leave the area without contacting the police first.
    ‘Am I a suspect?’ Charlotte whispered apprehensively.
    ‘No, but we may need to ask you a few more questions.’
    Geraldine and Peterson walked back to the car without talking for a few minutes, each absorbed in their own thoughts.
    ‘She didn't confirm his alibi,’ Geraldine broke the silence. ‘But we may be able to establish her whereabouts from the mobile phone records.’
    ‘She certainly gives him a motive,’ Peterson replied. ‘Abigail Kirby, late forties, interested only in her work, pays no attention to her husband but refuses to divorce him.’ He glanced at Geraldine. ‘Matthew wants to get rid of his wife because he's worried he's going to lose his young girlfriend if he can't marry her.’
    ‘I agree so far it all points to Matthew Kirby,’ Geraldine said. ‘He wanted to be rid of Abigail all right. The question is, did he want it badly enough to kill her – and cut out her tongue? I don't believe it. He might have been in love with another woman but he didn't walk away from his marriage, he cares about his children, and he seems quite – ordinary.’ She shook her head. ‘I can't help feeling we're dealing with someone far more