The Devil in Disguise by Martin Edwards Page A

by the vicar, by Frances Silverwood and by Ashley Whitaker about Luke’s good works and his sense of duty to others. The hymns were sensitively chosen. For all that, the one word in everyone’s mind was never spoken. Why?
    He reflected that one of the terrible things about suicide was that it imbued everyone who had known the deceased with a desolate sense of failure. It was a feeling that was unavoidable, yet infinitely depressing: we knew each other, we were friends, yet that wasn’t enough to make him want to keep living .
    When the service was over, he joined Matthew Cullinan, Roy Milburn and Tim Aldred outside. The grey of the sky matched the trustees’ mood; even Roy was subdued and from his grimace Harry guessed that his damaged leg must be hurting. They were waiting to say a few words of comfort to Frances when she emerged from the church and filling their time with the inevitable topic of conversation.
    â€˜Of course it’s a tragic loss,’ Matthew was saying. He was wearing a three-piece suit and had his thumbs in the pockets of his waistcoat. ‘I have to say that, with hindsight, one or two things do become clear.’
    â€˜What do you mean?’ Tim asked.
    â€˜Well, he was a born worrier. The way he used to fuss over the vetting of grant applications. Attention to detail is all very well, but it can get out of hand.’
    Roy stretched his arms and Harry noticed a gold watch glinting from his wrist. ‘Let’s face it. The Dinosaur was always a bit of an old woman.’
    Tim said angrily, ‘You’d never have dared say that whilst he was alive.’
    â€˜I freely admit it. He liked to have his own way. He always had to be right. But I suppose even he had his Achilles’ heel, or we wouldn’t be here today.’
    â€˜So you believe he killed himself?’ Harry asked.
    â€˜Don’t you? The idea of an accident is just too far-fetched.’
    â€˜I agree,’ Matthew said. ‘The coroner wanted to spare people’s feelings, that’s all very commendable. But between ourselves, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Luke did away with himself.’
    â€˜I couldn’t take it in when I first heard,’ Tim said. ‘Luke, of all people. He’s the last person I would have expected to...’
    â€˜I’ve heard that said a good many times today,’ a new voice said. It belonged to Ashley Whitaker. He was accompanied by his wife, a pale blonde with downcast eyes.
    â€˜I heard that Luke tried to telephone you on - the last night,’ Tim said after condolences had been expressed.
    Ashley blinked at the pebbles on the path, still glistening after overnight rain. ‘Yes. I keep wondering what he wanted to say.’
    Frances Silverwood joined them as he spoke. Under her overcoat, her shoulders were stooped and Harry sensed she had been struggling to hold back tears.
    â€˜I hope you’re not torturing yourself, Ashley,’ she said quietly. ‘It must be tempting to take some of the responsibility on yourself, to imagine that if only you’d taken the call, things might have been different.’
    â€˜You’ve read his mind,’ Melissa Whitaker murmured. A slender woman with high cheekbones, she had the sort of blue eyes that people wrote poems about. Harry knew that Ashley idolised her and he could understand why. Yet she was so quiet that it was surprisingly easy to overlook her. If Harry hadn’t been watching her closely, he wouldn’t have noticed her give her husband’s hand a comforting squeeze as she spoke.
    â€˜It’s human nature,’ Frances said. ‘You were always close to him, Ashley. It’s significant that after he dialled your number and couldn’t get through, he didn’t try to call any of the rest of us.’ She paused and Harry guessed that in her mind she was adding the words: not even me . ‘But I’m sure there was nothing you could have