Stop Dead by Leigh Russell

so.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘For a start, he seemed far more worried about his wife’s reaction to the stain on the carpet than about the body outside his garage.’
    ‘Transference?’

    ‘Maybe. Now come on, we’ve got an important job to do.’
    Sam’s face fell.
    ‘Oh Jesus, what now?’
    Geraldine turned to her with a laugh.
    ‘Lunch of course. Or aren’t you hungry any more?’
    Sam grinned.
    ‘Ravenous,’ she replied. ‘I know this great Chinese chippy not far from here.’

CHAPTER 10
    ‘T his place must have cost a few bob,’ Sam said with a low whistle as they cruised along an elegant tree-lined avenue in Hampstead and drew up outside a large detached house. She stared around in admiration before following Geraldine through an iron gate into a small front garden.
    ‘I reckon some of the windows at the back must have a view over the heath.’
    ‘Put your eyes back in,’ Geraldine smiled.

    The door was opened by a slim blonde woman in her late thirties, well groomed rather than beautiful. She was wearing a figure hugging dark green pencil skirt and matching shoes, with a pale green silk blouse which set off blonde hair as glossy as that of a model in a shampoo advertisement. Grey eyes peered at them through a long fringe. There was something guarded in her solemn expression. Whatever other emotions she might be feeling, the widow was clearly frightened.

    ‘Amy Henshaw?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Geraldine held out her warrant card.
    ‘I’m Detective Inspector Geraldine Steel and this is Detective Sergeant Samantha Haley. May we come in?’
    ‘This is about my husband, isn’t it? Has something happened to him? He hasn’t been home since Sunday and I’ve been so worried –’
    She raised a manicured hand to her mouth.
    ‘Let’s go inside, shall we?’

    Amy led them across a spacious hall into a living room comfortably furnished with armchairs, a small settee, and several occasional tables neatly positioned within easy reach of every chair.
    ‘I suggest you sit down, Mrs Henshaw.’
    ‘What is it? What’s happened? Tell me he’s all right.’
    She was chattering nervously, seeming far too jittery considering she had no idea yet what had happened.
    ‘I’m afraid your husband’s dead, Mrs Henshaw.’
    ‘Dead? He can’t be!’
    Her surprise seemed genuine.
    ‘It’s not –’
    For an instant Geraldine thought she caught a glimpse of real terror in Amy’s expression before she threw herself forward, hiding her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with noisy sobs.

    Geraldine gave Sam a quick nod and the sergeant set off to find the kitchen.
    ‘Detective Sergeant Haley’s gone to make you a cup of tea,’ Geraldine said quietly. ‘When you’re ready, I’d like to ask you a few questions.’
    ‘Questions?’
    Her shoulders were motionless now, her face still hidden.
    ‘What sort of questions?’
    ‘We’re investigating your husband’s death.’
    ‘Investigating? What do you mean?’
    ‘Mrs Henshaw, your husband didn’t die from natural causes. He was murdered.’

    Amy Henshaw shuddered. Dropping her hands, she peered up at Geraldine through her fringe and spoke rapidly, almost hysterically.
    ‘I don’t understand. You haven’t told me how he died. What makes you think he was murdered? That’s insane.’
    Her grey eyes glared at Geraldine.
    ‘It’s a horrible thing to say. No one would have wanted to harm Patrick. No one. What happened? Was it a drunken brawl? He liked to drink sometimes …’
    Her voice petered out.

    Geraldine leaned forward, watching Amy’s expression closely.
    ‘Was your husband often involved in fights?’
    ‘No. He wasn’t. He was never involved in any fighting. What makes you think he was ever in a fight?’
    ‘You said he drank and you thought he might have been in a brawl. It was your word.’
    The widow’s eyes flickered round the room, avoiding Geraldine’s gaze.
    ‘Was he a violent man?’
    ‘No, he wasn’t violent. He was… He was a