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Reckless Endangerment(46)



Mrs Cross gazed at us with red-rimmed eyes, but remained silent.

‘You both have our deepest sympathy, Mr Cross,’ I said. ‘I know what it’s like to lose someone close. I lost a son some years ago.’

Kate Ebdon glanced sharply in my direction. She obviously didn’t know about young Robert, but it wasn’t something I’d talked about. Although Dave knew the details, he obviously hadn’t shared them with anyone else in the office.

‘Can you tell us what happened, sir?’ said Cross, sinking back into his chair and allowing his walking stick to fall to the floor unnoticed.

There was no way in which I could shield the Crosses from the truth of the matter; they were entitled to know the awful details.

‘Sharon was found murdered at the Dickin Hotel near Heathrow Airport three days ago, Mr Cross,’ I said. ‘She’d been strangled.’

Helen Cross gave a convulsive sob and struggled to put a handkerchief to her mouth.

‘But who would do such a thing?’ Kevin Cross shook his head in bewilderment.

‘That’s what we’re trying to find out,’ I said.

‘She was happily married, you know, and she had a very good job as an air hostess. It was always her ambition, even when she was a little girl. She always wanted to fly to wonderful places. Even when she was tiny we would take her on the bus to see the aeroplanes at Southend Airport as a treat.’ Cross paused and looked sadly at the empty fireplace. ‘Her husband must be devastated,’ he mumbled, almost to himself.

This was getting even more difficult. ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you that her husband has also been murdered, Mr Cross.’

‘Oh good God!’ Kevin Cross’s whole demeanour registered extreme shock, and the blood drained from his face. For one awful moment I wondered if he was about to suffer a heart attack, but he recovered after a few seconds. ‘Someone killed them both? Did this killer break into their house?’

‘No, Mr Cross,’ said Kate Ebdon, taking over from me. ‘Mr Gregory was found murdered in the marital home at West Drayton last weekend. Sharon was murdered two days later in a hotel close to the airport. I think it was a hotel where the crew stayed,’ she added, telling a white lie to avoid adding further grief to an already distressing situation.

‘Was it the same person who murdered them both?’ Kevin Cross was clearly having trouble absorbing the enormity of the crimes we were describing.

‘It’s possible, but that’s something we’re still looking into.’ Kate decided that this was definitely not the moment to tell the Crosses that we had convincing evidence to indicate that Sharon had murdered her own husband.

‘It’s all quite dreadful. What is the world coming to?’ Helen Cross spoke for the first time, her delivery halting and almost inaudible, as if she were actually talking to herself.

‘Do you know of anyone who might’ve wanted to harm your daughter, Mr Cross?’ I asked. It was a routine question and sounded crass in the circumstances, but it was one that had to be posed.

Cross didn’t give it any thought. ‘No, no one,’ he said promptly. ‘She was a lovely girl – the most popular girl at her school. Everyone who knew her liked her.’

But there’s one person out there who obviously didn’t like her that much, I thought.

‘You say her marriage was a happy one, Mr Cross,’ said Kate, taking up the questioning again.

‘Very. They were devoted to each other. Admittedly Cliff was fourteen or fifteen years older than Sharon, but it made no difference. Their only disappointment was that they couldn’t have children.’

There was also nothing to be gained by telling the Crosses that their daughter was two months pregnant when she died. Or that her late husband had had a vasectomy and could not therefore have been the father.

‘Did Sharon visit you often?’ asked Kate.

‘No, young lady,’ said Cross, ‘but she had a very demanding job and a house and a husband to look after. I suppose you find it like that. Are you married?’

‘Not yet, Mr Cross.’ Kate smiled at the man. ‘Did your daughter and her husband have any close friends?’

‘I don’t really know. As I said, she was a very busy girl and it’s a long way from West Drayton to Basildon. We didn’t see her that often.’

It was clear that we weren’t going to get anything useful from the Crosses, particularly as they laboured under the illusion that she’d enjoyed a happy marriage. Our continued presence would only serve to exacerbate their grief.

PC Jacobs saw us to the door and turned to Kate. ‘Have you any idea when and where the funeral will be, ma’am?’