Fifty Two Weeks of Murder by Owen Nichols Read Free Book Online Page B

behind her head. She wore an expensively tailored suit, with a pearl necklace and matching earrings. Putting her bag on the floor, she smoothed the hem of her skirt with perfectly manicured hands before clasping them together in a defensive manner.
    Anders found her to be remarkably composed considering what her ex-husband was getting up to. Crossing one leg over the other and resting her hands on her knees, Anders leaned forward and gave her guest an open smile. Unthreatening but engaged.
    “Lady Margaret,” she started, but was interrupted by Buckland’s ex-wife, her perfectly enunciated tones a sharp contracts to Anders’ American accent.
    “My friends call me Maggie. You may do the same.” Anders nodded her thanks and continued.
    “I’m Assistant Chief Constable Anders and this is Abigail Philips. She’s a psychologist attached to the NCA, and is here to support the team. Please may I reassure you that we are simply here to discuss what you may know about your ex-husband’s whereabouts. We wish to make this as painless for you as possible.” Lady Margaret gave her a wan smile and Anders could see her mask of composure slip for a brief second. Abi reached out and took her hand, giving Lady Margaret an empathetic smile.
    “I appreciate that this is very difficult for you,” she said. “I’m told that you and Michael have a son together.” She nodded and dabbed at her eyes with some tissue.
    “Yes. Lawrence. He’s in America at the moment, studying at Yale. I can’t get hold of him yet. Time difference I guess.”
    “Would you like me to contact someone at the Bureau and see if they can get in touch?” asked Anders. Lady Margaret took a sharp breath as she noticed the scar on Anders’ neck and her eyes narrowed as she searched her memory.
    “You were that FBI agent,” she said softly. “The one at that horrible house. That man did some terrible things dear. He fully deserved what you did to him.”
    “Your ex-husband ma’am,” said Anders quietly, changing topic and ignoring the questioning look Abi gave her.
    “Of course,” Lady Margaret replied. “I’ve not seen Michael for several months now. We’ve been divorced for over a year, but he stayed close to Lawrence. Our social circles often brought us together, but it was never a problem.”
    “If I may, what were the reasons for your divorce?” Lady Margaret smiled sadly.
    “We just grew apart. Sometimes you live with someone for many years and then see them anew one day. Realise that you simply don’t love them anymore. Your love has become that for a friend or companion.”
    “Most successful marriages are based upon friendship,” said Abi. “It’s best to have that at the beginning and see if love flows from there.” Lady Margaret nodded her head in agreement, her mind wandering through happier times.
    “Absolutely. We started the wrong way round. We met when I had just finished my training as a nurse. Came in to A&E after he’d fallen from his horse. A whirlwind romance you might say, married by the end of the year. It caused quite a stir, I can tell you! As if my father wasn’t annoyed enough at me becoming a nurse, I go and get married within a year of meeting Michael.” She smiled wistfully at the memory, though it faded as she remembered those passionate times turning to cold embers. “He had such an energy and vibrancy about him, it was infectious.” As she spoke, Anders and Abi let her do so uninterrupted, content to let her reveal the man they were hunting. Lady Margaret looked forlorn as though she mourned someone who had passed away.
    “And then he changed. So slowly you never really notice it at the time. He lost the joy, the passion. It was his eyes. They used to sparkle. By the time we divorced, they were blank. I could never work out what he was thinking, what was going on behind that stare. We used to spend hours just talking, sharing ideas and thoughts, revelling in each other’s company. But that just