As if by Magic by Dolores Gordon-Smith Page B

heard me speak of him. Rackham and I could do with sloping off for a while. Will you be all right without me? I’ll be back later. I don’t know what time dinner will be.’
    â€˜It looks as if dinner might go by the board,’ said George quietly.
    Jack shook his head. ‘No, it won’t. You’ll see. I know this sort of house. If I’m not back in time, go ahead without me. I’ll skip dinner if necessary. Look, when your grandfather comes back, get him to show you where you can have a rest. There must be a sofa in the library or something. You need it.’
    George nodded. ‘I don’t particularly want to stay, not with them all at sixes and sevens, but I know my grandfather would be hurt if I left right away. You go, Jack. I’ll see you later.’
    â€˜Good man. Make my excuses for me, will you?’
    â€˜I’d better have a word with Mrs Culverton before I go,’ said Rackham. ‘I won’t be a minute, Jack.’
    On Anne’s instructions, Corby showed them to the door. As soon as they were on the street and could speak freely, Jack turned to Rackham. ‘Alexander Culverton? I can hardly believe it.’
    â€˜Neither could I when I realized who he was. It’s incredible that the man disappeared for days before anyone noticed he was gone.’
    â€˜Didn’t his wife know?’ asked Jack.
    â€˜I can’t help thinking his wife knows a lot more than she’s telling me,’ said Rackham in dissatisfaction. ‘She didn’t like seeing him on the mortuary slab, Jack, that was real enough, but, God help me, she’s glad he’s dead.’
    His meaning was so unmistakable that Jack stopped short. ‘Bill, what are you saying?’ Rackham didn’t answer. ‘Are you telling me that you think she murdered her husband? She can’t have done. The murder was brutal.’
    â€˜So what if it was? I don’t like to think a woman’s tied up with it, but she really was glad he was dead. She’s obviously a very determined sort of person. Just because the crime was brutal doesn’t mean we can rule her out. After all, when a married man’s killed, the first person we usually look at is his wife – and vice versa.’
    â€˜Yes, I know,’ said Jack impatiently, falling into step beside Rackham once more. ‘But for heaven’s sake, Bill, his face was battered in. She wouldn’t do that, surely?’
    Rackham shrugged. ‘Why not? I mean, look at your reaction. You’ve automatically excluded her
because
it was a brutal crime. I think she’s clever, Jack. Clever enough to work that out. After all, it only needs a few blows with something heavy and the job’s done. She was a nurse in the war. If she saw a fraction of what we did – and she must have done – she must be fairly proof against most horrors. She’s not some fragile little thing. Physically, she’d be perfectly capable of it.’
    â€˜But . . .’ Jack was silent for a few moments, putting his thoughts in order. ‘How did you find her? Did she tell you her husband was missing?’
    â€˜That’s right. She’d left him, so she says. She’s got a flat in Kensington and she telephoned me from there. She’d had a letter from his secretary, a Mr Gilchrist Lloyd, to say that he’d vanished. I went round to see her, hoping that it might be my naked man in the Thames and, as you know, was proved right. She identified him.’
    â€˜But that doesn’t make sense, surely? If she killed him and walloped him afterwards, presumably that was to conceal his identity.’
    â€˜I tell you, she was glad he was dead. It could be sheer hatred, Jack.’
    â€˜Well, even it was, I still don’t see why, after having bumped him off, she runs and tells you that he’s gone. If she hadn’t come forward you’d still have an unidentified body on your hands. All she