Reckless Endangerment(10)

‘How long have you been married?’ asked Kate, having included the deceased man’s full name.

‘Seven years,’ said Sharon promptly.

‘Are you saying that you couldn’t wake up your husband because he was drunk?’ Kate wanted to be absolutely clear on the point.

‘I’m afraid so. He often went to bed in that state, I’m sorry to say.’ A few forced tears rolled down Sharon’s face and she reached across to a box of tissues. ‘In the circumstances I had no alternative but to go downstairs myself, but I was a bit scared.’

‘What were you wearing, Sharon? You don’t mind if I call you Sharon, do you?’

‘Not at all, Inspector. And I wasn’t wearing anything.’

‘I see. So, you went downstairs completely naked to find out what this noise was. Is that correct?’ Kate stared at Sharon, clearly wanting to confirm what, in her view, was strange behaviour for any woman. Especially one who had claimed to be ‘a bit scared’.

‘I don’t see that there was anything wrong in that.’ Sharon lifted her chin slightly, almost giving the impression of defiance. ‘My husband and I never wear nightclothes, especially in weather like this. It is awfully hot, isn’t it?’ She smiled and fanned herself with her left hand. The hand bore neither an engagement ring nor a wedding ring, not that that meant a great deal these days.

‘And you didn’t think to put on a robe?’

‘No, why should I? I often walk about with nothing on. Anyway, it’s our house, and I honestly didn’t think the noise was anything serious. It was just something I’d heard. I thought it could even have been something outside because all the windows were open; we get a lot of noise from people going home from the pub. But I had to satisfy myself that everything was all right, otherwise I’d never have got back to sleep again. I’m sure you know how it is.’

‘When you say that all the windows were open, did that include the downstairs windows?’ asked Kate, who knew perfectly well that they were closed. At least, they had been when we arrived. And when Miller, the next-door neighbour, had spoken to Dave, he’d said that they were closed when he’d arrived. But Kate knew the value of checking everything a witness said. And then checking it again.

‘No, of course not. Everyone living in this area takes part in Neighbourhood Watch. And we’ve been told all about crime prevention by the local home-beat policewoman.’

‘Oh, well, that’s all right, then,’ said Kate quietly, but her sarcasm was apparent to me if not to Sharon Gregory. Kate shared the view of most police officers: that the scheme was pointless and time-wasting. It had actually degenerated into a system of telling people about crimes long after they’d been committed, and that was of no value at all in terms of preventing crime.

‘Please carry on, Sharon,’ I said.

‘I had a look round downstairs, and when I went into the sitting room there was this man standing there.’

‘Did you recognize the man?’

‘No, of course not. I’d never set eyes on him before. Anyway, he was wearing a mask. The sight of him terrified me and I screamed. Then he stepped towards me and put his hand over my mouth. He said that if I didn’t be quiet he’d kill me.’

‘What sort of mask was it?’

Sharon spent a few moments thinking about that. ‘It looked as though it was a stocking what he’d pulled over his head,’ she said after a short pause.

‘What colour was it?’ I asked. For no particular reason I made a mental note of her grammatical slip. ‘Black, brown?’

Sharon hesitated. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t remember. It was such a shock seeing him there in my house that I felt violated.’ Once more, she cast her eyes down, but then looked up, a coy expression on her face.

‘Did this man say anything else, after he’d told you to be quiet?’

‘No. I asked him what he wanted and why he was there, but he didn’t say another word.’

‘What sort of accent did he have? Was it local, or maybe North Country? Scottish or Welsh perhaps, or even foreign?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t pay too much attention. I was so scared.’

‘Can you describe him? What he was wearing, how tall he was, if he was stocky.’

‘He was quite tall; about your height, I should think,’ said Sharon, glancing at me. ‘And he was quite slim. He was wearing a black sweater and jeans – genuine Levis, I think – and trainers.’

‘D’you remember anything about the trainers?’ asked Kate.

There was no hesitation before Sharon replied, ‘They were black with light green soles. Oh yes, they were Nikes. They had, like, that tick trademark on the side what they all have.’