Once Upon a Time by Barbara Fradkin

Renfrew over a day of family togetherness had prompted an entire night of the famous Levy silent treatment which hadn’t even broken when he’d tried to kiss her goodbye this morning.
    She might have told Jules where Green had gone, and Jules, being a detective long before becoming a brass, would have put Howard Walker, Eugene Walker and Renfrew together, looked up Eugene’s file, and known Green was off on one of his wild goose chases.
    The interesting question now was—where did Howard Walker fit into this goose chase?
    To his surprise, half a dozen cars were parked on the street outside the Reid house when Green arrived with the evidence bags casually concealed in a briefcase. As he mounted the steps, he heard the sound of muted voices from within. The funeral, he wondered with a sinking feeling? Eugene Walker had died on Wednesday, so a funeral on Saturday was entirely plausible. Green was about to withdraw out of respect for the family when a thought occurred to him. Whatever had brought Howard Walker down to the station on the afternoon of his father’s funeral must be damn important.
    Donald Reid opened the door in response to Green’s ring, and a welcome died on his lips at the sight of Green.
    â€œYou! I told you about that fight so you could check it out, not go accusing Howard of murder!”
    â€œI did no such thing.”
    Disregarding the chilly air, Reid stepped out onto the porch in his shirtsleeves and shut the door behind him. To Green’s surprise, he was red-eyed. “Jeff Tillsbury called Howard and said you were snooping into his relationship with his father.”
    â€œWell, I do have some questions for Howard. And for your mother-in-law.”
    â€œFor fuck’s sake, inspector! We’ve just buried my father-in-law. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
    â€œIt could, but Howard himself seemed anxious to speak to me.”
    Reid grunted and reentered the house, leaving the door ajar for Green to follow. “Just go back into the kitchen. Be inconspicuous, at least.”
    In the living room Green passed a cluster of guests clutching tea cups and murmuring solace. He’d barely settled in the kitchen and slipped the briefcase out of sight at his feet before a youngish man appeared, dressed in a charcoal grey suit and black tie which Green noticed with surprise was cut on one side. Howard was small and fine-boned like his mother, but with dark curls and chocolate brown eyes magnified by thick glasses. He had a drink in his hand and a scowl on his face.
    â€œWhy are you doing this?” he demanded.
    Green played ignorant. “Doing what?”
    â€œI checked with the pathologist. He told me my father died of natural causes. Why are you stirring all this up? You’re upsetting my mother, you’re upsetting my sister.”
    Ah, thought Green. The collegial courtesy of one doctor to another. So it was Dr. MacPhail who had talked too much, no doubt fuelled by half a dozen scotches, and MacPhail who had alerted Jules that Green was poking around in a non-case.
    â€œI’m sorry if I’ve upset anyone, Dr. Walker. I’m simply investigating possibilities. Standard investigative procedure, I assure you.”
    â€œBut you’re saying he was murdered.”
    â€œPlease sit down, Dr. Walker. Let’s just talk a bit.”
    Howard dropped into a chair, spilling some of his drink. The effort of being belligerent seemed to have drained him, and now his grief showed through. “We’ve just buried him. I haven’t seen him in five years, and he looked so unreal lying in that coffin. At peace. My father was never at peace!”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    It was a moment before he spoke. “All my life my father has wanted me to be something I’m not, and I’ve wanted him to be something he’s not. What a waste. What a damn waste! Our whole goddamn life’s been a lie! I didn’t kill him,