A Quiet Kill by Janet Brons

stipulation on the entire affair was that, publicly at least, everything should remain the same. We would continue to live together, to go on holiday, to attend functions. We would still be a couple. Nothing would change until we returned to Canada. Then she would divorce me. At considerable cost, of course. I agreed to those conditions. I didn’t have much choice.”
    â€œTell me about Gerry Middleton,” said Liz suddenly. “Is it true that you worked together in the past?”
    â€œHeavens no. The first time I saw him was the day you arrived. That Parliament Hill business was just for your benefit. He came here to talk to me, to see if there was any possibility I might be involved in this thing. He knew about the affair—his people in Ottawa knew—but it only became an issue because of the—because of Natalie.”
    â€œAnd what did you tell Mr. Middleton?”
    â€œI told him that I had been deeply in love with Natalie. That we planned to marry. And that I could never, ever have hurt her.”
    â€œAnd are you telling us the same thing now?” asked Hay.
    â€œI am.”
    â€œAnd you were to say nothing to us about the affair?” asked Liz Forsyth.
    â€œThat’s right,” he answered. “Foreign Affairs thought it would be best kept quiet, so long as I had nothing to do with the murder.”
    And they , thought Liz, believed that only they were in a position to decide that.
    â€œDo you know a Dr. Julian Cox, High Commissioner?” asked Hay suddenly.
    â€œOf course. I’ve known him for some years. His specialty is cultivating government officials and then doing what he can to humiliate them publicly. Quite a charming fellow, really, and genuinely committed, but he’ll do anything, step on anyone, for publicity.”
    â€œWhen did you last see him?”
    â€œLast month, at the Canada Trade Fair. Cox and his band of merry men were there to protest against our fur industry. It got a bit rowdy, actually, and Natalie got shoved about a bit before the police intervened. All of our security personnel were of course busy hustling our minister out of harm’s way, and Natalie was stranded for a few minutes.”
    â€œShe must have been upset.”
    â€œAt first, of course. But her reaction to Cox has always been much the same as mine. He’s a major pain in the butt, and you can never, ever trust him, especially if the cameras are rolling. But you have to respect the guy. Anyway, as I recall she was a bit preoccupied around that time and didn’t want to make a fuss about it.”
    â€œPreoccupied? How so?”
    â€œShe was going through a period of wanting to get a better handle on her personal roots. She’d immigrated to Canada as a baby, you know. She had just managed to re-establish contact with some relations in the former Yugoslavia—around Pale, I think she said. Seemed they were pretty well connected too. One of them—a cousin, I believe—came through London about that time as I recall. They got together for an afternoon. Anyway, all this was on her mind quite a bit. So, yes, she was somewhat preoccupied, distracted.”
    â€œAnd this incident at the Canada Trade Fair, that was the last time you saw Cox?”
    â€œSaw him, yes,” replied Carruthers. “But he left a message on my voice mail the day of the—murder. God, but that word is hard to say now. Used to be just another word. Now it has some kind of hold over me. Sorry. Anyway, I wasn’t really sure what the message was all about. I’d intended to ask Natalie about it later. He said something about being sorry, the Internet page hadn’t been his idea, some of his guys were going a bit over the top lately. Apologized. As I say, it didn’t make a lot of sense to me at the time. I think I saved it, though, if you want to hear it.”
    Hay nodded. “Mr. Carruthers,” he said, “your wife would have us