“Did she mention that she would be doing anything special during the night: having a friend over, maybe?”
“No. She was tired. It’s my guess she would have had a nice long, relaxing bath, something to eat and maybe a glass of wine.”
“Did she drink much?”
“No. She liked a drink – doesn’t everyone? But she knew when she’d had enough, which wasn’t usually very much.”
“How would you describe her health?”
“Pretty good. Then again, it would be, wouldn’t it? Eating all that stuff: fruit and berries and seeds and shit – live forever, you will.” Robbie Carter glanced up, as if his final words hit home with him. “Look, I know what you’re thinking but I had nothing to do with this. It was probably the best relationship I’d ever had.”
“Have you had many?” Reilly asked.
Robbie Carter smirked, one of those irritating lopsided grins that made up for a thousand words.
“Okay,” said Gardener, not wanting to give Robbie Carter an excuse to rattle on about his conquests, “she drank moderately; ate well. She worked outside in the fresh air. She was healthy. Was she taking any medication that you know of?”
Robbie Carter finished his coffee. “You mean the little yellow pills she kept in the bathroom cupboard?”
Gardener nodded, surprised.
Robbie Carter folded his arms and sighed. “I knew about them, but I’m not sure what they’re for.”
“You’ve known her for three years but you don’t know if she had any health problems?” Reilly asked.
“Whatever it was she didn’t want to talk about it. The first time I saw them and asked, she said there was nothing to worry about. She could handle the problem, and had been for years.”
“But you have no idea what the problem was?”
“No.”
“You ever question it again?”
“Once or twice but I always got a similar answer. She seemed...” Robbie Carter paused, “embarrassed is the only word I could think of.”
“You think it was personal?”
“It was to her. Nothing sexual, she assured me that much. But, as I said, it was her problem and she said she was dealing with it. And she obviously had been. I never saw her really ill during the time we were together. Colds, maybe, but nothing bad.”
Another dead-end for Gardener, which meant he would have to push Fitz. He figured they were important. He felt he was running out of things to ask on which to incriminate him. He requested Jane Carter’s doctor’s name and address.
“Were you aware of any disagreements that your wife had recently?”
“What, like neighbours from hell – that sort of stuff?”
“Not specifically. The impression you gave earlier is that you didn’t socialise with the neighbours,” said Gardener. “I’m talking everyday life – could have been a few words with someone over a parking space at the local shops; a run-in with a client at the stables. Had she come home anytime during the last few weeks and mentioned anything of the sort?”
Robbie Carter ran his hands through his hair, scratched his head. “Nothing I can think of. She wasn’t the type. She didn’t like confrontation.”
“Did you argue much?” asked Reilly.
“No more than any other couple. But if we did, she didn’t like it – had this annoying habit of turning the other cheek and walking off.”
“That bother you?”
“Did at first. I sometimes think a good row clears the air. When you first get together you’re always a bit bothered about the first argument in case it all falls apart. She never really rowed with people. As I said, she would rather walk away.”
“How was she after a row?”