Surely the woman wasn’t too far gone to realise the significance of what Geraldine was saying.
‘I went out. I didn’t want to wake Tom. I had to get to work as quickly as possible. I drove…’ Sophie Cliff gave a start andturned to Geraldine, her face suddenly alive. ‘I know who did it. I saw him.’
‘Was your husband up in the night?’
‘No. I was quiet. I never woke him up.’ Her features changed, suffused with tenderness. She was almost attractive. ‘He was sleeping like a baby. But I saw someone.’ Her face grew taut again. ‘As I was leaving last night.’
‘Who?’
‘I don’t know who he was. But I’d recognise him anywhere. I’d know his eyes.’
‘Who are you talking about?’ Geraldine was aware of the sergeant, pen poised, staring at Sophie Cliff. ‘Who did you see? Where was he?’ Geraldine felt an impulse to seize the dazed woman by the shoulders and shake her. She gave what she hoped was an encouraging smile.
‘As I was driving out of the house, I saw a man. I don’t know who he was. I’d never seen him before. I’d know if I had. I’d recognise that face. He just appeared from nowhere in front of the car. I could see him clearly in the headlights. I nearly ran him over. He just appeared from nowhere and ran right across the drive in front of me. He had horrible eyes, kind of bursting out of his face. I had to swerve to avoid him. I slammed my foot on the brake and skidded into the hedge.’ She stood up, suddenly agitated. If she was fabricating the story to protect herself, it was a convincing act. ‘It was him, wasn’t it? He started the fire.’ She was trembling and her voice rose.
‘Sit down, Mrs Cliff. We’ve found nothing to suggest a third party was involved.’ Geraldine glanced at the sergeant who was busy taking notes. ‘Can you think of anyone with a grudge against you or your husband?’
‘No. There was no one. Only us. There was only us.’
‘The fire started inside the house, in your kitchen. There’s no evidence of arson, nothing to suggest a third party was involved.’ Watching the widow’s face, Geraldine felt uneasy. There was something odd about Sophie Cliff’s reluctance to look at her directly, as though afraid her eyes might reveal too much. And people had been murdered for a lot less than a million pounds.
13
Interviews
On the way to Sophie Cliff’s workplace, Geraldine and Peterson went over what they knew about Sophie. They agreed there was something strange about her, but there was nothing to implicate her in her husband’s death.
‘She never once looked at me, not directly,’ Geraldine remarked. ‘She could be painfully shy. It might’ve been the shock. But she made me feel as though I wasn’t there. She looked right past me. Never once engaged with me while we were talking. It was the same when she went to view the body. I felt…’ she struggled to find the right word. ‘There’s something – cold – about her. Detached. Like she’s living on the other side of a glass wall.’
‘It could be grief shutting her off.’
‘It’s not just now. They didn’t socialise with the neighbours,’ Geraldine pointed out.
‘Perhaps she’s one of those people who isn’t comfortable around people?’
‘Maybe.’
‘She inherits the house,’ Peterson added after a pause.
‘But if that’s what she wanted, why would she risk destroying the property in the process of getting her hands on it?’
‘Insurance?’ The sergeant shook his head. ‘Unless she’s totally insane – which we can’t rule out – however you look at it, setting up a gas explosion has to be a very dodgy way to plan a murder. It’s dangerous and unpredictable. There’s so much could go wrong, and the chances of success are slim. And she would have been risking her own life too. I can’t believethis was a deliberate murder. Arson maybe, but it can’t be a premeditated murder. Can it? It doesn’t make any sense, gov.’
‘There’s no rule
‘I went out. I didn’t want to wake Tom. I had to get to work as quickly as possible. I drove…’ Sophie Cliff gave a start andturned to Geraldine, her face suddenly alive. ‘I know who did it. I saw him.’
‘Was your husband up in the night?’
‘No. I was quiet. I never woke him up.’ Her features changed, suffused with tenderness. She was almost attractive. ‘He was sleeping like a baby. But I saw someone.’ Her face grew taut again. ‘As I was leaving last night.’
‘Who?’
‘I don’t know who he was. But I’d recognise him anywhere. I’d know his eyes.’
‘Who are you talking about?’ Geraldine was aware of the sergeant, pen poised, staring at Sophie Cliff. ‘Who did you see? Where was he?’ Geraldine felt an impulse to seize the dazed woman by the shoulders and shake her. She gave what she hoped was an encouraging smile.
‘As I was driving out of the house, I saw a man. I don’t know who he was. I’d never seen him before. I’d know if I had. I’d recognise that face. He just appeared from nowhere in front of the car. I could see him clearly in the headlights. I nearly ran him over. He just appeared from nowhere and ran right across the drive in front of me. He had horrible eyes, kind of bursting out of his face. I had to swerve to avoid him. I slammed my foot on the brake and skidded into the hedge.’ She stood up, suddenly agitated. If she was fabricating the story to protect herself, it was a convincing act. ‘It was him, wasn’t it? He started the fire.’ She was trembling and her voice rose.
‘Sit down, Mrs Cliff. We’ve found nothing to suggest a third party was involved.’ Geraldine glanced at the sergeant who was busy taking notes. ‘Can you think of anyone with a grudge against you or your husband?’
‘No. There was no one. Only us. There was only us.’
‘The fire started inside the house, in your kitchen. There’s no evidence of arson, nothing to suggest a third party was involved.’ Watching the widow’s face, Geraldine felt uneasy. There was something odd about Sophie Cliff’s reluctance to look at her directly, as though afraid her eyes might reveal too much. And people had been murdered for a lot less than a million pounds.
13
Interviews
On the way to Sophie Cliff’s workplace, Geraldine and Peterson went over what they knew about Sophie. They agreed there was something strange about her, but there was nothing to implicate her in her husband’s death.
‘She never once looked at me, not directly,’ Geraldine remarked. ‘She could be painfully shy. It might’ve been the shock. But she made me feel as though I wasn’t there. She looked right past me. Never once engaged with me while we were talking. It was the same when she went to view the body. I felt…’ she struggled to find the right word. ‘There’s something – cold – about her. Detached. Like she’s living on the other side of a glass wall.’
‘It could be grief shutting her off.’
‘It’s not just now. They didn’t socialise with the neighbours,’ Geraldine pointed out.
‘Perhaps she’s one of those people who isn’t comfortable around people?’
‘Maybe.’
‘She inherits the house,’ Peterson added after a pause.
‘But if that’s what she wanted, why would she risk destroying the property in the process of getting her hands on it?’
‘Insurance?’ The sergeant shook his head. ‘Unless she’s totally insane – which we can’t rule out – however you look at it, setting up a gas explosion has to be a very dodgy way to plan a murder. It’s dangerous and unpredictable. There’s so much could go wrong, and the chances of success are slim. And she would have been risking her own life too. I can’t believethis was a deliberate murder. Arson maybe, but it can’t be a premeditated murder. Can it? It doesn’t make any sense, gov.’
‘There’s no rule
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