Part 10 (1/2)

”As if. It's me she asked for.”

”Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell someone who cares, Munro.”

Riley changed the subject. ”Did Hannaford say anything to you?”

”Only that Kate said she had to go.”

Riley sighed. In a way, he was relieved she'd left. He didn't know whether he was ready to see her again. He hadn't had enough time to process the information Westport had given him and he had yet to talk to Margaret Fitzgerald, the Watsons' housekeeper. After the information he'd received from the lawyer, he was keen to speak to the elusive woman who was a part of the Watsons' daily lives-or at least had been a decade ago.

”Listen, I'm going to be out of the office a bit longer. There's someone else I need to talk to.”

”Is this about Kate's mother?”

”Yeah. But keep it to yourself, all right? I want to see if I can work out what's going on. A few things aren't adding up.”

”Anything you want me to do?”

”Nah. It'll be fine. It's all hypothetical at this stage. I might catch you for a drink later at The Bullet.”

As he ended the call, Riley's thoughts returned to the woman who'd been stealing his sleep. He liked her. He really liked her. And he really wanted to believe her.

He just didn't know if he could...or should.

Much to Riley's relief, when he knocked on the door of the house owned by Margaret Fitzgerald, it was opened almost immediately.

”Mrs Fitzgerald?”

Inquisitive brown eyes set amongst a lifetime of wrinkles studied him through large tortoise-sh.e.l.l gla.s.ses. ”Who wants to know?”

”I'm Detective Riley Munro from the Watervale Police Station. I'd like to ask you a few questions about Rosemary Watson.”

The elderly woman stared at him. After a moment, she nodded and invited him to follow her inside. After hastily putting together a pot of tea, she ushered him into a sitting room.

”Do you take milk, Detective?” The housekeeper's cloud of gray-blue hair wafted above her ears and across her forehead like cotton candy. Riley was amazed her slight frame had the strength to drag around a dusting cloth, let alone a vacuum cleaner.

”No, thanks Mrs Fitzgerald. Black's fine.”

”Call me Maggie, please.” The old lady poured tea into matching china teacups and handed one to him. Taking the other cup and saucer, she sat back against the chintz-covered armchair opposite and sighed. ”You remind me of my Laurie.”

Riley took a cautious sip of tea, mindful not to burn his lips. ”Is he your husband?”

Her eyes lost some of their sparkle. ”Was. He died over twenty years ago. Cancer.” She nodded sagely over the rim of her teacup. ”His whole family died from it.”

Riley remained silent, not at all sure there was anything he could say. The woman across from him set down her teacup and shrugged.

”Anyway, that's life, as they say. I managed to pick my sorry b.u.t.t up off the ground and started a life without him. That's when I met the Watsons. I answered an advertis.e.m.e.nt for a housekeeper in the local paper.”

”Tell me about Rosemary.”

Maggie's expression softened. ”A kinder soul you wouldn't meet, Detective. It's a dreadful disease, you know. Just dreadful. Some days she can barely hold up her head. And now, as if that poor woman hasn't suffered enough, her eyes are throwing it in.”

Riley sat forward. ”What do you mean?”

Thin fingers fluttered around her face. ”She doesn't want anyone to know, especially not Darryl.” Concern clouded her time-worn features. ”You won't tell him, will you?”

Riley dodged the answer with another question. ”What's their relations.h.i.+p like? I understand you've worked for them almost from the time they were married.”

She nodded. ”They'd been married just over a month when I started working there. With Rosemary confined to a wheelchair, it was obvious why I was needed. Darryl's house hadn't been built with a disabled person in mind and he seemed more willing to pay me to do everything for her than to have the place adapted.”

Riley pulled out his notebook. ”It's a two-story place. I take it Rosemary lives downstairs?”

”Yes, she does. One thing Darryl had done was to install a bathroom on the ground floor. That and the double front doors were his only concessions to her disability.”

Riley thought of Kate and frowned. ”What about Rosemary's daughter? She was only young when you started working there.”

Wrinkles deepened into folds across the woman's face. Her mouth tightened and a heavy sadness seemed to weigh down her slight shoulders. ”Katie. Yes, she was four. That poor little girl.”

Riley's hand stilled. ”Why do you say that, Maggie?”

Disapproval backlit the brown depths of her eyes. ”She was little more than a baby. They made her sleep upstairs, all alone. Her mother couldn't even come to her if she needed comfort in the dead of the night.” She shook her head. ”It wasn't right, if you ask me.”

”Did you ever speak to them about it?”

Some of the anger eased out of her. ”I talked to Rosemary about it once, not long after I started working there. She said it was what Darryl wanted. He wasn't used to a child in the house. I think it irritated him to have her underfoot so much. She had her toys, her books, her dolls-everything was upstairs, out of the way.”

Riley pictured the loneliness of a little girl who wouldn't have had a clue why she'd been banished upstairs, away from the rest of the family. His heart clenched with sadness for the lost, little child and for the woman she was now, living with the memories.

”I guess as a new wife, Rosemary was keen to keep her husband happy.”

Maggie pursed her lips. ”I guess so. On laundry days, Katie and I would hang out the was.h.i.+ng together. She was such a beautiful little girl. Always so anxious to please, but a bit of a loner. I used to worry she didn't have any friends.”

Riley picked up his teacup and took a swallow. It was cool enough now to drink without pause.

”What about later? When she started school? Surely there were friends around then?”

Maggie shrugged, the slightest lift of one thin shoulder.

”I guess so. Once she started school, I wasn't around so much in the afternoons. Most days, I leave after Rosemary finishes lunch. Occasionally I stay later, if she asks me to. Sometimes, I think she just wants the company.” Her gaze found his. ”I can't imagine what it must be like to go through life like that, so dependent upon other people. It would just about drive me straight-through crazy.”

Maggie looked away and stared out the window. Her voice lowered to a scratchy whisper. ”I'm so glad my Laurie didn't suffer like that.”

The old woman's gaze turned distant as she battled with her memories. Riley waited in silence. A few moments later, Maggie turned back to him, her face now drawn and despondent.

”It's a terrible thing, Detective, growing old. Don't ever let anyone tell you different.”

Her comment hung between them, amongst the leftover tea things on the low coffee table. Riley cleared his throat and changed the subject.