others.’
‘It’s the others I’m interested in,’ said Steven.
‘I don’t think I can help you there. I wasn’t privy to what arrangements he had. I was the dutiful little woman in the background, as befitted my role in the party.’
Steven smiled. ‘Does the name Charles French mean anything to you?’
‘He and John were at university together. John maintained they were friends but I could never see it.’
‘How so?’
‘I first met John when he was a young MP. He was handsome and charming and I fell for him. I suppose I just assumed he had ability, so I ignored certain warning signs, including the advice of my father who thought he was an idiot. Charles was introduced to me as one of John’s researchers but I got the impression that he lacked respect for John. He always had an air of quiet superiority about him.’
‘How did he feel about you?’
‘He seemed to like me. Encouraged the relationship between John and me.’
‘Saw you as a suitable wife?’
‘It could have been that.’
‘Do you think Charles French could have been the brains behind John?’
‘He was certainly much brighter than John,’ said Melissa, looking doubtful. ‘But he was young, the same age as John. He couldn’t have had any influence within the party, so I don’t see …’
‘Could he have been part of a larger, more influential group, d’you think?’
‘You know, I recently asked my father about that. Mistake. I thought he was going to have a heart attack. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry. Demanded to know what had made me ask.’
‘What did?’
‘John and I had a fight. I said some very cruel things. Told him exactly what I thought of him, and how the party were going to fling him out on his ear. He seemed to suggest they couldn’t because he “knew things” and “they” owed him.’
‘For what?’
‘I don’t know. I was past caring by that time. I’d had enough of listening to his drivel. I stormed out and went home to my mother and father’s place.’
More alarm bells. Two people who knew him well didn’t think Carlisle had the balls to take his own life, and now the suggestion that he might have been considering some kind of blackmail. Steven asked, ‘I know it seems insensitive, but do you think I could see where John died?’
Melissa appeared taken aback but simply said, ‘I suppose so.’ She led the way through to the back of the house, where she donned a jacket before opening the door and crossing to the stable block. ‘I found him here, hanging from that beam.’ She pointed. ‘What exactly are you looking for?’
‘How he did it,’ replied Steven, deciding not to beat about the bush.
‘It’s not rocket science: even John managed it,’ said Melissa bitterly. ‘He tied the rope to that beam, looped it round his neck and jumped off. Look, I really don’t see the need for this. It’s positively macabre …’
‘Jumped off what?’ Steven interrupted.
‘The top rail of the stall, I suppose.’
‘Why the top rail?’
‘Because of the … height he was off the floor when I found him.’
‘Quite a gymnast.’
Melissa fell silent as she took Steven’s point. She examined the route her husband would have had to take to get onto the top rail of the stall, and thought about the physical ability it would have demanded. Then she shook her head.
‘Unless there was a stepladder …’ suggested Steven.
‘No,’ said Melissa. ‘No stepladders, no chairs, no boxes. Nothing. You think he was murdered, don’t you?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘But he left a note …’
They returned to the house. ‘Where do we go from here?’ asked Melissa, sounding very subdued.
‘In the circumstances, I suggest we do nothing for the moment. Go to South Africa for your “period of recovery”.’
Melissa nodded, and Steven sensed her relief, although her expression betrayed nothing.
‘Apart from Charles French, do you remember anyone else who was around your
‘It’s the others I’m interested in,’ said Steven.
‘I don’t think I can help you there. I wasn’t privy to what arrangements he had. I was the dutiful little woman in the background, as befitted my role in the party.’
Steven smiled. ‘Does the name Charles French mean anything to you?’
‘He and John were at university together. John maintained they were friends but I could never see it.’
‘How so?’
‘I first met John when he was a young MP. He was handsome and charming and I fell for him. I suppose I just assumed he had ability, so I ignored certain warning signs, including the advice of my father who thought he was an idiot. Charles was introduced to me as one of John’s researchers but I got the impression that he lacked respect for John. He always had an air of quiet superiority about him.’
‘How did he feel about you?’
‘He seemed to like me. Encouraged the relationship between John and me.’
‘Saw you as a suitable wife?’
‘It could have been that.’
‘Do you think Charles French could have been the brains behind John?’
‘He was certainly much brighter than John,’ said Melissa, looking doubtful. ‘But he was young, the same age as John. He couldn’t have had any influence within the party, so I don’t see …’
‘Could he have been part of a larger, more influential group, d’you think?’
‘You know, I recently asked my father about that. Mistake. I thought he was going to have a heart attack. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry. Demanded to know what had made me ask.’
‘What did?’
‘John and I had a fight. I said some very cruel things. Told him exactly what I thought of him, and how the party were going to fling him out on his ear. He seemed to suggest they couldn’t because he “knew things” and “they” owed him.’
‘For what?’
‘I don’t know. I was past caring by that time. I’d had enough of listening to his drivel. I stormed out and went home to my mother and father’s place.’
More alarm bells. Two people who knew him well didn’t think Carlisle had the balls to take his own life, and now the suggestion that he might have been considering some kind of blackmail. Steven asked, ‘I know it seems insensitive, but do you think I could see where John died?’
Melissa appeared taken aback but simply said, ‘I suppose so.’ She led the way through to the back of the house, where she donned a jacket before opening the door and crossing to the stable block. ‘I found him here, hanging from that beam.’ She pointed. ‘What exactly are you looking for?’
‘How he did it,’ replied Steven, deciding not to beat about the bush.
‘It’s not rocket science: even John managed it,’ said Melissa bitterly. ‘He tied the rope to that beam, looped it round his neck and jumped off. Look, I really don’t see the need for this. It’s positively macabre …’
‘Jumped off what?’ Steven interrupted.
‘The top rail of the stall, I suppose.’
‘Why the top rail?’
‘Because of the … height he was off the floor when I found him.’
‘Quite a gymnast.’
Melissa fell silent as she took Steven’s point. She examined the route her husband would have had to take to get onto the top rail of the stall, and thought about the physical ability it would have demanded. Then she shook her head.
‘Unless there was a stepladder …’ suggested Steven.
‘No,’ said Melissa. ‘No stepladders, no chairs, no boxes. Nothing. You think he was murdered, don’t you?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘But he left a note …’
They returned to the house. ‘Where do we go from here?’ asked Melissa, sounding very subdued.
‘In the circumstances, I suggest we do nothing for the moment. Go to South Africa for your “period of recovery”.’
Melissa nodded, and Steven sensed her relief, although her expression betrayed nothing.
‘Apart from Charles French, do you remember anyone else who was around your
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