Thank you again for all the lovely comments! We're almost on the downhill now, but there's still a few more twists and turns to come in the next couple of chapters. I'm sorry that there's not too much of Lewis and Hathaway in this one, but I had to move the plot on a bit, so they had to get out of the office and do some detecting. If it helps I'm pretty sure they're due a pub trip/coffee/smoke break soon!
Chapter Six
The next morning the sun didn't so much rise in Oxford as struggle pitifully from behind a thick blanket of cloud. Neither Hathaway nor Lewis had got much sleep the night before which showed in their pale faces, quiet voices and frayed tempers. Fortunately, years of working together had taught them both a degree of tolerance and understanding which helped them not to drive each other mad during their early morning starts. The fact that Hathaway arrived to collect Lewis bearing both strong coffee and bacon sandwiches helped to go a long way towards restoring their usual affable moods.
By the time they arrived on Sarah Blackwall's doorstep in Summertown it was barely half past eight. The previous night's torrential rain had finally abated, leaving behind a sullen misty greyness that seemed to cling to everything. Before they even knocked at the door they couldn't fail to notice the red ford parked on the road outside the house, the damage to the bonnet and front light clearly visible. Ever efficient, Hathaway was immediately on the phone to the Accident Investigation Department, organising for one of their technicians to attend the property and seek for the evidence that would unquestionably link the vehicle to the tragic death of Rachel Emmerson.
It fell to Lewis to ring the doorbell, his expression as sombre as the morning's weather. Ms Blackwall answered the door promptly, still wearing her pyjamas and a thick towelling dressing gown. The sounds of small children playing drifted through the house, reminding the Inspector of long ago Christmases.
"Inspector Lewis?" her surprise was evident in her widened green eyes, "has there been some progress in my mother's case?"
"No," Lewis spoke carefully. He was aware of Hathaway's solid presence at his customary spot on his right hand side, although he hadn't heard the taller man approach. "Actually we wanted to know where you were between six and seven o clock yesterday evening?"
Her brow furrowed, deeply, before she answered the question she turned and pulled a door to her right closed muffling the sounds of the children.
"I was walking the dog in the local park," she answered, "can I ask why?"
Hathaway was once again intently writing in his notebook.
"Can anyone verify that?" he asked, without looking up. Lewis on the other hand, continued to watch the expression on Sarah's face. He saw the confusion melt away and be replaced by irritation.
"No. The children were with their father last night, and what with all the rain last night there wasn't that many people about," her voice hardened, "Now, what is this about?"
Hathaway with urbane calm, and a blank expression ignored her rising irritation.
"Does anyone else have access to your car?"
"No," the enforced calm in her voice was evident, "unless you consider my six year old child capable of driving? The children are the only people who would have been able to get the keys."
"No one else has a spare key to your house?"
"My mother did, but I doubt she was using the car either. Now I will ask you again, what is this about?"
Lewis stepped in again, lowering the tone of his voice in contrast to her escalating anger.
"We have reason to believe that your vehicle was involved in a hit and run accident on the Banbury Road last night in which a young cyclist was killed."
"My vehicle?" she was frightened and bewildered now, they could hear it in her voice, but whether it was a sign of guilt or not was hard to tell. "My car's out there on the street, I haven't driven since yesterday afternoon and it was fine then."
Again Hathaway stepped forward; Lewis was happy to let him, his unflappability generally had one of two effects on suspects. Occasionally they seemed to take great exception to him and refused to say anything, but for some reason more often than not people seemed to find them telling him everything, just to get a reaction out of him. At times like that Lewis was thankful he hadn't remained in the seminary, partly because it made him a fantastic partner but mostly because he'd have been terrifying in a confessional.
"So you are unaware of the damage to the passenger side headlight?"
"What..." she stepped out of the house and stalked to the front of the car, "I have no idea how that happened! The car was fine yesterday – maybe somebody hit it while it was parked on the street?"
Hathaway raised one eyebrow, his expression unchanged.
"It's possible," he conceded, his voice dry and illustrating exactly what he thought of that possibility.
"Miss, we're going to have to ask you to come to the station and answer a few more questions," Lewis gently led her back to house, "Is there someone who can take care of the children?"
It was the mention of her children that did it. Suddenly the woman went from being angry and upset to simply terrified. Tears slipped unheeded down her face.
"Oh god," she sobbed, "I don't understand how this has happened. I haven't been near the car! Please, you have to help me."
"Is there someone I can call to collect the children?" Hathaway asked softly, "then we can sort this all out down at the station?"
"Richard, my ex-husband should be able to take them, his number is by the phone in the house."
Hathaway nodded and disappeared inside. Sarah turned to Lewis.
"Can I get dressed, or do we need to go right now?"
"Get changed," he said, kindly. "Then we'll wait until Richard arrives. No sense in upsetting the children is there?"
Richard Thompson arrived forty five minutes later to be met at the door by Sergeant Hathaway. His face was concerned but he smiled happily enough at the tall detective and held his hand out in greeting.
"I'm Richard Thompson, here for the children?"
"Yes, sir. Can I just ask you a couple of questions first?"
"Of course, anything to help."
"You had the children last night, is that correct?"
"Yes," the man confirmed, "It was the last day of term at their school so I picked them up after that. They came back to my house, I live about five minutes away," he gestured, non specifically, "and I brought them back round at about nine."
"And did Ms Blackwall mention going out at all?"
The man ran a hand through greying hair, in thought.
"She said she'd got soaked walking the dog but otherwise she'd been getting ready for Christmas," he grinned, "hard to play Santa with two children under the age of eight."
Hathaway smiled thinly but made no comment.
"And you didn't notice any damage to her car at all?"
The man looked confused and peered at the car.
"It's damaged? No I didn't notice, but I came from that way," he indicated, "both last night and just now so I only saw the back of it."
"Thank you sir. One last question?"
"Of course."
"Do you have a key to this property?"
The man shook his head emphatically.
"No. I returned it when we separated. I have no need of it, she's usually around if the kids forget something." He glanced at his watch, "if that's all, am I ok to take the kids? I don't get a lot of time with them at Christmas, so I thought I would take their mind of their mum by visiting the Santa grotto."
Hathaway nodded.
"Must be hard being away from them at Christmas," he commented, as he allowed the man into the property.
"Oh I see them plenty," he smiled, a little sadly, "but when they're your kids you always want that bit more time with them, before they're all grown up."
The sergeant said nothing, merely led the way into the living room.
"Daddy!" the two girls ran and flung their arms around him.
"Hello darlings," he crouched down to hug them, casting a quick, reassuring smile at their mother, "Now you've got jim jams at my house haven't you? So run and get your coats, we're going to see Santa this afternoon."
Much excited squealing greeted this statement, and the two girls scampered off in a flurry of animated giggling. After they had left Richard took Sarah's hand reassuringly.
"I'm not sure what's going on," he said, casting a pointed look at the two detectives, "but I'm sure it will be all sorted out soon, in the meantime, if you need anything at all, give me a ring, ok?"
She nodded wordlessly, gripping at his hand for reassurance, before standing up.
"Come on then Inspector, let's get this over with."