Free Staying Power by Judith Cutler Page B

Adrian Grafton? I’m Detective Constable Colin Roper, and this is Detective Sergeant Kate Power.’
    What had made Colin so voluble? He usually left this sort of introduction to her.
    â€˜Yes. Adrian Grafton. A.C. Grafton, as opposed to A.J. Grafton. Can’t think what my parents were thinking of, giving us the same initials, well, nearly. Always got the wrong post, so embarrassing at times.’
    Someone else too voluble – the sort of reaction to stress they were all familiar with in bereaved relatives and friends.
    Another drip down her neck prompted Kate to speak. ‘You’ll know we’re investigating the circumstances surrounding your brother’s unfortunate death, Mr Grafton.’
    â€˜Oh, call me Adrian – everyone does!’ He smiled. It was a horribly winsome smile.
    â€˜I will if you get us out of this rain.’ Kate fancied her smile was bracing.
    He stood aside, gesturing courteously.
    He watched them as they wiped their feet, and took their coats to hang them on an old-fashioned hall-stand. Kate stepped forward to look more closely: in the elaborate woodwork of the back panel there was a brilliant turquoise enamel inlay in a copper plaque.
    â€˜Ah, you have an eye for a good piece, Sergeant,’ Adrian said. ‘Arts and Crafts. Lovely, isn’t it?’
    The plaque was. On the other hand the hall stand was too ornate, too heavy, and dominated the narrow hall.
    â€˜Now, Alan used the box-room as an office. Everything else is just a normal home. Except – well, you’ll see what fine taste he had. Do you want to look round down here before you go up? Looking for Clues?’ His winsome smile inserted a capital C.
    Kate nodded. ‘If you don’t mind. What we’re looking for is anything that will help us work out why he died as he did.’
    â€˜You put that very tactfully, Sergeant! Did he fall or was he pushed? Isn’t that what you’re wondering?’
    She smiled. And waited.
    â€˜Firstly, as I told the other policemen, you know, the ones in uniform, as far as I know he didn’t have a single enemy. Not one. But there again, he’d just done this fabulous business deal – why should anyone with his prospects want to – to kill himself?’ Adrian’s voice cracked. He turned briefly from them.
    â€˜This must be very upsetting for you, Sir,’ Colin said quietly.
    â€˜I’m all right as long as I can be interested or angry. My poor kid brother – and some kinky bastard strings him up to die.’
    Kate’s eyes flickered to Colin’s: he’d registered the word, too.
    But Adrian noticed. ‘Oh, you know, these guys and their funny sex. Strange underwear, plastic bags and oranges in their mouths.’
    â€˜Did Alan …?’ On the face of it, she’d have thought Adrian a more likely candidate.
    â€˜No, Sergeant, he did not. To the best of my knowledge – isn’t that the phrase? – to the best of my knowledge, Alan was just a decent ordinary guy. To the best of my knowledge … No, we weren’t all that close. Talked on the phone, that sort of thing. Family Christmases—’
    Was he cold or repressed? She must remember his brother had just died horribly.
    â€˜Your parents—?’ Colin prompted.
    â€˜Dad had a stroke two years back. Like that.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Pity Ma can’t – she’s got some sort of dementia. Only sixty-three.’
    â€˜I’m so sorry.’ Kate meant it. Aunt Cassie might have her moments but thank God she had her full complement of marbles.
    He shrugged. ‘Tea or coffee? I suppose I can’t offer you what I’m going to spend the afternoon sinking: a decent red wine. If one’s got to pick over the bits and pieces, one might as well do it in style.’ But there were tears in his eyes.
    â€˜I’ll make it, shall I?’ Colin pushed open a door which did in fact