‘I’ve told you all this before.’
‘We’d like to hear it again, please.’
Kathryn suppresses a sigh. ‘I wasn’t even here. She was supposed to go to the gallery with my mother, wasn’t she?’ She turns to Elspeth, who nods. ‘But she stayed behind because she had a migraine. My mother told you all this last time.’
Holdsworth sits up straighter and pushes her shoulders back. ‘So, let’s get this straight. On the afternoon she left here, you were both out? The last person to see her was you, Mrs McKenzie, and that was just after lunch? When you returned home around five she was gone, taking all her stuff with her?’
‘Yes. That’s right,’ agrees Elspeth.
Holdsworth smiles tightly. ‘So why did you have Jemima’s passport, Kathryn?’
Kathryn’s heart feels like it’s about to stop. ‘What?’
‘A bag of clothes containing Jemima’s passport was handed into the station. It was found at the gallery. The gallery you run.’
Elspeth flashes Kathryn a questioning gaze.
‘Care to explain?’ adds Holdsworth. ‘Or would you rather do it down at the station?’
Kathryn sags against the cushions. What’s the use? She might as well tell the truth. Or, at least, her version of the truth. ‘Okay … The bag … it belonged to Viola. She was my sister.’
Holdsworth sits up straighter. Kathryn notices she has a crease down each trouser leg and imagines her getting up at the crack of dawn to iron them. ‘Your sister?’
‘She left home when she was eighteen. Back in 1988. It was just some old clothes she left behind. We never got around to getting rid of them.’
Holdsworth glances at Elspeth but she doesn’t say anything. Elspeth turns to Kathryn. ‘You had Viola’s bag?’
‘Yes, Mother.’ She tuts. ‘Just clothes we had packed away together years ago. Don’t you remember?’
‘No,’ says Elspeth. ‘I thought she’d taken everything.’
Kathryn waves her hand impatiently. ‘I’m sure the police aren’t here to discuss Viola.’
Holdsworth frowns, then reaches inside her suit jacket to retrieve her notebook. She flips it open with one hand. ‘Why did you have Jemima’s passport?’
‘She left it behind after we argued,’ says Kathryn, not missing a beat.
Elspeth hangs her head but says nothing. Kathryn notices strands of white hair have come out of her chignon. She’s never seen her anything but composed and immaculate – except just once.
Holdsworth’s face is grim. ‘So what really happened?’
‘Do I need a solicitor?’
‘We’re not arresting you, Kathryn. This is just an informal chat.’
‘Okay. Well, I met my mother at the gallery as she wanted to talk to one of the artists who was going to sell their work through us. Anyway, she’d forgotten to bring the paperwork so I said I’d pick it up. I drove over here to collect it and that’s when I found Jemima. She was rummaging in my mother’s desk, going through her things. We argued. I told her I’d have her fired … Yes, I know, not my finest moment, but you have to understand that these – these girls are usually only after my mother’s money.’ She ignores Elspeth’s protests. ‘I don’t trust them. Anyway, Jemima was crying, begging me not to tell Elspeth and making some, quite frankly, ludicrous excuse as to why she was in the study. I’m not going to lie, I did shout at her and accuse her of all sorts, and she ran upstairs crying. The next thing I knew she was leaving the house with a backpack.’
‘And you never saw her again?’
‘No. I was worried I’d gone too far with my accusations. So I was relieved when she didn’t come back. I went into her room and found her passport in the drawer. In her hurry to leave she must have forgotten it.’
‘But why hide it?’ asks DC Reid.
‘Because I didn’t want my mother to know we’d argued. I wanted her to think Jemima had just left because she’d had enough.’
‘And you didn’t wonder why she didn’t come back for it?’
Kathryn nods. ‘Of course. But I figured she knew I was on to her, that she’d found another victim to try to fleece and that she didn’t need it. It was only the passport. She had her handbag on her with her money and things.’
Holdsworth writes something in her notebook, then looks up at Kathryn. ‘You say she had a backpack on her?’