Death of a Notable – Murder Mystery. AN EPILOGUE.

EPILOGUE

Mrs Audrey Patterson reclined deep in thought in her simply furnished living room. The dark solid parquet floor was covered with a Persian rug in colours of blue and green. The large padded sofa was upholstered in a dark green material, that matched the velvet curtains on the bay window that was letting in the light of the afternoon sun. It was her favourite place to come and read a book or have a good think. A well-worn copy of Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express lay abandoned for the time being on the sofa next to her as she stretched out. Curled up beside her was her black and white tomcat, Sherlock. Audrey Patterson was gently stroking her cat and looking off into the far-off distance. Anyone who knew her would know her to be loquacious in the extreme. She only stopped talking during those rare moments when she was sleeping, eating or thinking. She kept going over and over in her head about the events that had happened the week before. The death of that young scientist, Dr Lancaster, still loomed largely in her mind. Of course, she had been spoken to by those rather intimidating young men. They had always been polite, but they still had an air of menace about them and the way they managed to force their way into the house still made her shiver. They had used all of those nice phrases, ‘a patriotic love of one’s own country’ and ‘a sense of national pride at carrying out an important duty’. It had all boiled down to one thing. She was to keep her mouth shut, or else. They had suggested that her husbands career as a top scientist working for the government, would be in jeopardy if she didn’t agree to their proposal. He had worked so hard to attain his current position, and to provide this lovely house and lifestyle, she couldn’t put that in danger. She loved him too much to bring him any harm. So, she had agreed. She wasn’t at all happy about it though. Justice mattered to her too much to be put so easily aside. The more she thought about it, the more she thought that ‘His Majesty’s secret service’ had missed something. Something vitally important.

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