Ice Blue by Emma Jameson

back to reveal his brilliant white
smile.
    “Never had to beat the proverbial burro,”
Hetheridge said, stone-faced, as Bhar whooped with delight. “But I
suppose what you’re really asking is, do I think Madge is capable
of murder, based on the Madge I knew years ago?” He considered the
question. “No. But then, perhaps I never really knew her. Or
perhaps the last twenty years have wrought an enormous change. Or
perhaps the psychological premise that we are all capable of
murder, given the opportunity and the right set of circumstances,
is actually valid.”
    “I’ve never believed that,” Bhar said.
    “Me either. Some people are weak,” Kate said.
“Even in a kill or be killed situation, they’ll curl up in a ball
and give up.”
    “I was going to say, some people are
naturally moral and decent,” Bhar said. “Take my mum. Incapable of
murder. Completely. My mum could never do anything deliberately
cruel or immoral. It’s outside her nature.”
    “Oh my God, you still live with your mum,”
Kate crowed, eyes alight.
    “Don’t you still live with the wolves that
raised you?” Bhar shot back. “What’s your opinion, sir? On the
theory we’re all capable of murder?”
    “My analysis of human nature is ongoing,”
Hetheridge sighed. “And the data appears more complex with every
passing year. There’s certainly a great deal unexplored in the
Comfrey murder. I’ll permit you two to have your heads as far as
how you investigate the following, but this is what I require. Find
out if Charlie Fringate’s business really is in trouble. Follow up
on his assertion that Malcolm Comfrey started behaving differently
about financial matters during the last two years. Look into
Comfrey’s will and let me know how much Madge and Jules stand to
inherit. Re-interview Jules and Kevin Whitley together and try to
make sense of what, precisely, their relationship is. And what
about Ginny Rowland and her husband? I’m troubled that they left
for the south of France on the day after the murder.”
    “So am I,” Bhar said. “But I checked on their
travel plans, and they were made four months ago. So it doesn’t
look like a case of fleeing the country so much as a scheduled
pleasure trip. Assuming, of course, they didn’t actually plan the
murder four months ago. Anyhow, the Rowlands didn’t pretend any
distress over Comfrey’s death. Didn’t even ask how Madge and Jules
were holding up, which I found interesting, since they’re all
supposed to be friends. But at least the Rowlands didn’t bleat too
much when I told them to cut short the vacation and return to
London. They’ll be back Tuesday morning. And they insist on having
their solicitor present for the questioning.”
    “So they’re not idiots,” Kate said, to nods
all round the table.
    “There’s one other approach I’d like to try,”
Hetheridge said. “A visit to Lady Margaret Knolls. She’s been
immersed in London society for fifty years. She’s an astute, if
merciless, judge of character. I always find an afternoon with her
most instructive. We’ll meet her tomorrow at two o’clock,
sharp.”
    “I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Bhar said,
“I, too, am leaving for the south of France, and won’t be available
for any –”
    “Not you,” Hetheridge cut across him, turning
toward Kate. “I had DS Wakefield in mind.”
    “Ah.” Bhar leaned back in his chair,
spreading his arms in a wide, satisfied stretch. “I knew there was
a reason for bringing fresh blood to this team. So I can finally
soak up the perks of seniority.” He sprang to his feet, grinning at
Hetheridge and Kate. “Fabulous brunch. I’ll give my compliments to
Harvey on the way out. I’d love to spend more time with you kids,
but I have to go home and prepare,” he concluded triumphantly, “for
my date tonight.”
    “Congrats,” Kate said. “Does she charge by
the hour, or the occasion?”
    “Neither. I’m hoping she’ll be like you, luv
– mine for a