The Loving Husband Read Online Free PDF Page B

weatherproof jacket, a dark fleece, scuffed shoes. Aftershave. But policemen had power, they weren’t ordinary.
    ‘DS Doug Gerard,’ he said, holding out a hand, and Fran’s gaze flicked to Emme sitting head down over her cereal, in her school uniform. ‘I did introduce myself last night.’ An apologetic cough. ‘I don’t think you were in a state to take it all in.’ Understanding: he sounded understanding. Gerard had shadows under his eyes as he looked at her and, with him back in the kitchen, last night loomed, terrible. The smell of the standing water and the mud was in her nostrils.
    At the table Emme carefully lay down her spoon.
    ‘Emme, Mr Gerard needs to talk to me,’ said Fran. ‘Will you just run upstairs and make sure your room is all tidy?’ Fran saw Gerard’s eyes settle on the smear of blood at the sink, another one on the wall beside the phone. ‘And could you have a peep at Ben? Make sure he’s still asleep?’ Emme gazed at her unblinking, opened her mouth to protest and seemed to change her mind. She slid off her seat and ran to the door.
    There was no sign of the younger man.
    ‘Ed’s outside,’ the policeman said. ‘Detective Constable Ed Carswell.’ She just stared. ‘May I?’ Touching a chair. She nodded and Gerard sat. No milk, no sugar: she set the mug in front of him. ‘Your husband’s body has been taken to the police mortuary,’ he said. ‘We’ll assign an FLO to you.’ His voice was steady, calm.
    ‘FLO?’ Fran felt herself stiffen at the initials, at the thought of the ranked police officers with their grades and insignia, waiting on her doorstep.
    ‘Family Liaison Officer,’ Gerard said as he slipped his arms out of the waterproof jacket and took a sip of the tea. What would Nathan have thought, this man at her table? ‘She’s there to keep you informed on the progress of the investigation, to help out however she can, she works for both sides. The family and the police.’ It sounded like he’d said all this before, the professional reassurance. There was an edge of something else, an itch to be out of there, leaving her to someone else. ‘She’s very experienced.’
    ‘A woman,’ she said, grasping at the fact, and he nodded.
    ‘I’d have liked to have had a female officer along last night but…’ He smiled. ‘It’s not like visiting your GP. We can’t guarantee … in an emergency situation.’ He hesitated, eyeing her over the mug and then Fran felt a tremble, as if her body was getting away from her.
    ‘I told you there was a man there,’ she said. ‘I did tell you, didn’t I?’ The tremor grew, her hand on the table shook. ‘Let me show you, now, I can show you where.’ She pushed her chair back, wanting to get up, but he held up a warning hand. ‘He wasn’t afraid,’ she said, urgent. ‘He was just watching me. He came after me to the window.’
    ‘Yes.’ Gerard didn’t move. ‘You said you didn’t see his face.’ She subsided.
    ‘Did you find anything? The man. There was a man.’ She tried a different tack because he didn’t seem to be registering. ‘Do you have any … he was at the pub. He came back from the pub. The Queen’s Head.’
    ‘We’ll talk to them.’
    ‘What about … criminals?’ She didn’t know what she was imagining, someone recently released from prison. The world was full of violent people, and she hadn’t known it, until she found herself in the field. Ghosts roaming the dark. ‘Is there anyone known to you?’
    Gerard’s gaze was steady. ‘Well, we’re considering a number of possibilities. That’s part of the job, yes. There are hardly any itinerants this time of year, though, there’s a spike in crimes associated – seasonal workers, that kind of thing, although we can’t, we don’t draw any automatic conclusions—’
    ‘That’s not what I meant,’ said Fran, desperate. ‘Are you talking about … traveller communities? Or … or … migrants? I’m not racist, I’m not