He stands up. ‘Stay here, please. I’ll tell the police officers we’re ready.’
I had assumed I’d be taken to another part of the police station, so I’m rather relieved that we’re staying here in this small room with a window that looks out onto the car park, and a table with chairs positioned either side. It feels like I’m at a meeting in an office, not being questioned at the local nick. As one minute passes, then three, and Clive Seaham doesn’t return, I feel increasingly nervous. I don’t belong here. I have never done anything wrong. Ever. Well, nothing seriously wrong, that hurt another person. Not fatally, anyway.
And then the door swings open.
‘Mrs Palmer.’ DI Cornish enters first, followed by DC White and Clive Seaham. I stand up and my handbag falls to the floor. Instead of shaking their hands, I find myself scrabbling on the ground to pick my belongings off the carpet.
The police officers sit on the opposite side of the desk. I sink back into my chair and rub my arms. The air conditioning is set to high, making it artificially cold in here.
‘Thank you for coming in to see us, Mrs Palmer, and I’m sorry for your loss,’ DI Cornish says. ‘You are not under arrest and you are free to leave anytime. You have agreed to be here to give a voluntary interview, and you are entitled to legal advice.’ He nods at Clive Seaham. ‘Please let us know if you require refreshments or need to use the facilities. Mrs Palmer, please talk us through the events of the evening Mr Palmer died.’
‘Again?’ I ask and then look at Clive. He nods at me. So I tell them exactly what happened, repeating myself for at least the fourth time.
‘What did you do when you discovered your husband was having an affair?’
‘I shouted; I cried; I left the house. It didn’t come as a surprise. We had already decided to divorce.’
‘Nevertheless, it must have been a shock.’
‘Of course.’
‘What are the terms of your husband’s will?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Do they think I’ve done this to get my hands on Adam’s assets? That’s ridiculous. But I do know the contents of Adam’s will. We only changed our wills five years ago. ‘Actually, I think I inherit most of it, but I don’t see how that–’
‘We just need to establish all the facts,’ DI Cornish says. ‘We understand that your husband was a very wealthy man, so you are set to inherit considerable sums. Am I right in thinking that the inherited wealth after his father’s death last year made him a multimillionaire?’
‘Yes, but that money is nothing to do with me. I had no intention of asking for any of that money when we divorced. It’s Adam’s money, and if he wants to leave it to our children, I’m fine with that.’
‘Maybe, but you have just said that under the terms of his will, it all goes to you.’
I pale and sit on my hands to keep them still.
‘I earn a good salary from the business, and I didn’t know anything about the insurance payouts.’
‘Insurance payouts?’ DI Cornish’s eyes crease. Both Cornish and White lean forwards. Clive sits upright, then whispers in my ear, ‘You don’t need to say anything.’
But I do. I need to make them all understand I had nothing to do with Adam’s death.
‘Adam organised the insurance. He was our financial director. Ajay Arya came to see me a couple of days ago and told me about them. There is a life insurance policy and key man insurance.’ Should I have volunteered this information? Will they think I have another motive now?
‘Insurance policies for how much?’
‘One and a half million goes to the company; a quarter of a million is Adam’s life insurance.’
DC White whistles under his breath. DI Cornish throws him a filthy look.
‘You are set to gain one-point-seven-five million pounds in insurance payouts. That’s a lot of money by anyone’s standards, isn’t it?’ Cornish says.
‘Yes, but the one and a half million goes to our business, Cracking Crafts.’
‘Which I understand has not been doing well for the past few months. I have no doubt that a sum like that would be very useful.’
I wonder how the police have obtained information on Cracking Crafts. Our financials are not made public until our year-end accounts are published, so they don’t have access to our current financial status.
‘Yes, but–’
‘You can see why we’re struggling here, Mrs Palmer. You had just found out your husband was cheating on you. If you had gone through the divorce, at best you would have lost half of your wealth, and quite possibly you would have had to sell your beautiful family home. On the other hand, if your husband dies, you stand to inherit the whole lot, and thanks to very generous insurance policies, you gain a further 1.75 million pounds. You also freely admit that you were at home all evening, yet you didn’t see or hear anything suspicious. Indeed, your husband had probably been dead for at least three hours before you contacted the authorities. It doesn’t look good, does it?’
‘No, no! You have it all wrong. I’m not bothered by the money; in fact, I didn’t know anything about it, at least not the insurance policies. And I wanted my kids to grow up with a father. Besides, I couldn’t hurt a spider, let alone the man I used to love.’
‘How did you learn about electrical wiring and SELV?’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about?’ Why are they asking me about electrical wiring? It doesn’t make any sense. Surely they can’t think that I did something to the wiring of the pool in order to electrocute Adam? That’s ridiculous.
‘Separated extra-low voltage systems. The electrical systems used in swimming pool installations.’
‘You don’t need to answer that,’ Clive Seaham interrupts.
I ignore him. ‘I don’t know anything about wiring. Adam did everything regarding the pool. He organised the maintenance, the cleaning, the heating. I don’t like swimming, so I wasn’t interested.’
‘Tell us about your relationship with Ajay Arya.’
‘I’ve known him for twenty years. We set up the business together. I met him through Marianne.’
‘And what does Mr Arya think about the affair between your husband and his wife?’
‘You don’t need to answer that, Lydia.’ Again, I ignore Clive.
‘I don’t think he knows. Or at least, if he does know, he hasn’t let on to me. Marianne asked me not to tell him. I think he would be incandescent with rage if he knew. He keeps Marianne on a tight leash as it is.’
DI Cornish raises his eyebrows. He writes something down on a small notepad and holds it under the table so that only DI White can read it.
‘Mrs Palmer, we would like to search your house. As you know, there was a forensic examination of your garden shortly after your husband was deceased, but now this is a potential murder investigation, we wish to look inside the house.’
Clive Seaham inhales as if he’s about to speak. DI Cornish cuts him off.
‘And before you object, yes, we have a warrant.’ He places a formal-looking document on the table.
‘That’s fine,’ I say, thinking, No, it isn’t. How horrible that strangers will be rifling through our things. And the children, it’s horrendous for them. I’ll have to take them away for a couple of days.