‘Are you saying you think James killed the girl and then deliberately ran into that tree?’
‘No, we remain confident the accident was the result of brake failure, Mr Browning.’
‘I do hope so. James is — was — no killer, Mr Pemberton! I’d stake my own life on that; he’s — he was — much too gentle, much too caring. You know he worked for charities? I’m sure you realise he could not have done such a thing.’
‘Yes, but that’s what I need to prove, Mr Browning. It’s not easy for us, having to make these kinds of enquiries, because people believe we think the subjects of our enquiries are guilty. It’s usually not the case. Invariably, we know they are innocent but we have to prove it. But when a man has been close to the scene of a murder at the material time, we must go through certain rather upsetting procedures in order to identify the guilty. Now, to eliminate your son, we need to talk to his friends. We have their names and addresses, thanks to the address book we found in his flat. We understand that one of his friends, his best friend perhaps, is called Hugh Dawlish. James has a photograph of himself with the man I believe is Hugh Dawlish.’
‘Yes, that’s true. You know him?’
‘No, I don’t. Now, I must stress that he is no more a suspect than anyone else. What we do know is that he and James went to vintage car rallies together, and that they’ve been friends since college. Does he know about James’s accident?’
‘Yes, I rang him yesterday. He was distraught, he’ll be coming to the funeral — it’s on Monday, by the way. Eleven o’clock. Requiem Mass here in Rainesbury. At Our Lady and St Hilda’s, Father Flynn will officiate. I thought that would be nice, seeing he was with James when he died. James did not attend church in Harlow Spa and so I want the interment to be near my family home, where I can tend the grave. That will take place the following day. But back to Mr Dawlish. I don’t like him, Mr Pemberton; there’s no point in hiding my views. I don’t know why but he seems creepy — I think that’s the phrase people use nowadays. He befriended James at college, and I think he dominated James in some way. I got the feeling he continued to do so when they finished at college. Even so, James took great care to keep in touch with Hugh all through the years, but, well, he’s not the sort of man I’d welcome as a friend. I might add he has been to our house on a couple of occasions, for weekends with James when they were students. My late wife didn’t take to him either, God bless her.’
‘You know more about him?’
‘To be frank, no, but it’s just the way he was, his behaviour…I don’t know why really, he never harmed us in any way nor was he obnoxious or rude — in fact, I think he tried to be nice to us, but however hard he tried, I did not like the man. I’ll tell you something — when I first worried about the question of sabotage, I must admit I wondered if Hugh had done it…perhaps that shows what I feel about him?’
‘Mr Browning, can I ask a great favour of you? I don’t want you to tell Hugh Dawlish about our interest in him.’
‘You suspect him, don’t you? It wouldn’t surprise me, Mr Pemberton. I’m afraid I can’t tell you whether he’s been to see James recently, if that’s what you want to know. I just hope he’s not been leading my James into some kind of awful behaviour. James changed, you know, at college. Before he went, he was such a lovely open boy, friendly and bright, the sort any man or woman could warm to. Then, as a student, he changed, he became more remote, sullen even, and for a time afterwards, he rarely came home. People did say that sort of behaviour was normal for a student, part of the growing-up process, but in my son’s case, his whole personality seemed to change. He did keep in touch, but there was none of the earlier warmth. Mind, when his mother died, he made an effort to re-establish his relationship with me — she meant a lot to him. But no, Mr Pemberton, my son is no murderer. I do hope you can prove that and so I will co-operate with you in any way I can.’
Pemberton had no intention of telling Mr Browning about his son’s confession — not yet. If it did transpire that James was the serial killer, then he might tell him, but not before. He knew the priest would never reveal it.
‘We will keep you informed, Mr Browning. Are you staying in the area for much longer?’
‘I’ve decided to stay until the Requiem Mass on Monday,’ he said firmly. ‘There is a lot to do here. You have my hotel address and telephone number?’
‘Yes, I have,’ and the interview concluded in a manner which was far more friendly and affable than Pemberton could ever have dreamed.
Pemberton did wonder whether he had been rather too devious or less than honest in his discussions with Mr Browning, but decided it was all part of his overall work of detection. One outcome had been an insight, however brief, into the character of Hugh Dawlish and Pemberton felt he had made a very positive step forward. Happier than he’d been only half an hour ago, he returned to the incident room to prepare for his morning conference of detectives and then the daily news conference.
Pemberton’s first task upon entering the incident room was to find Inspector Larkin. ‘Paul…’ He beckoned him into his office. ‘A moment please.’
When Larkin had settled in the chair, Pemberton told him about his conversation with Mr Browning and his views on Hugh Dawlish. ‘Dawlish has told Browning senior that he’s coming to the funeral Mass, which is to be at eleven o’clock on Monday here in Rainesbury. We have a team looking into his movements and background?’
‘Yes, sir, DS Grant and DC Black.’
‘Right. At this delicate stage, we should not visit him at his home or let our interest be known to him. Eventually, I want to speak to Dawlish myself. I can do that when he gets here. Between now and then, we need to find out everything about him. And if there’s any likelihood of him not turning up at the funeral service, let me know. It might be necessary to arrest him and detain him on suspicion.’
‘A top-of-the-frame suspect, sir?’
‘A gut feeling, Paul. A gut feeling, nothing more at this stage.’
‘I’ve known your gut feelings be proved right on more than one occasion. So, yes, I’ll have words with the teams about Dawlish.’
‘Anything back from Eddie, our barman?’
‘Not yet, sir; DI Holroyd hasn’t returned.’
‘So what’s the state of play at the moment, Paul? Anything else I need to know before I address the troops?’
‘Only that we’re getting replies to your fax requesting information about unsolved murders in other force areas. It’s amazing how many unfortunate young women have been killed without their murderers being traced. It makes you wonder if there are several serial killers at large.’
‘I’ve often thought so, Paul, but it would involve oceans of time to decide that. Our job’s to concentrate upon the Sandal Strangler. But all incoming information is useful; detail someone to examine the reports closely, to see if there’s any possible links with our murder or with the Sandal Strangler in general. Let DI Kirkdale have a look at everything when he gets in. Now, our own enquiries? What’s new here?’
Inspector Larkin explained that there had been no further developments of importance overnight. Intensified house-to-house enquiries in Crayton and district had not yielded any useful information; people known to walk their dogs or to stroll through the woods or beside the river had been traced and interviewed, with no positive leads.
Night duty detectives had interviewed more prostitutes in Rainesbury, catching them as they worked the streets and clubs, but nobody could shed any light on the fate of Debbie Hall. Several of them had known Debbie, but none had seen her on Sunday night with the tall, dark man. Attempts to obtain from them a name for that man had been unsuccessful — the description was too vague to be of any general use although now that a photograph of Hugh Dawlish was available, the prostitutes and night-club hostesses would be shown copies. It was hoped someone might have seen him in town over the weekend. Similar reactions had come from those who had organised the antiques fair; they’d not recognised Dawlis
h. Those known to have attended would be shown a photograph of Dawlish too, in the hope he’d been noticed in and around the town. Detective Inspector Holroyd returned to the incident room moments before Pemberton addressed his detectives; already, they were assembled in readiness, but Holroyd’s information was important.
‘The barman, sir, Eddie Brodie. I tracked him down and showed him the photo. He says Dawlish is definitely the man he saw with Debbie Hall the night she disappeared. He got a good look at him through the bar window. He’s a good witness, he’ll come to look at Dawlish in the flesh if necessary.’
‘Good.’ Pemberton felt this was another important advance. ‘So, do we wait for Dawlish to attend the funeral service on Monday or shall we lift him now for interrogation?’
‘Better be safe than sorry, I’d say,’ Holroyd advised. ‘Let’s bring him in to see what he says for himself. And while he’s in custody, we can search his house.’
‘Can we be sure he’s never entered the frame for any of the Sandal Strangler killings?’ Pemberton turned to Kirkdale who was standing nearby. ‘Even in a very minor way?’
‘No, sir, not even as a witness. He’s a new name to us.’
‘So he’s never been interviewed, not even for elimination?’
‘No, sir.’ Kirkdale was quite certain.
‘Fine, then he’ll have no idea that we are beginning to associate him with any of the killings, let alone our most recent one. I would suggest that that indicates that he’s not likely to do a runner. He’ll take life as normal, in which case I’d like to have more background information about him and his movements before we bring him in or even quiz him. I think it’s important that we are fully informed about his background before we commence any interview,’ said Pemberton. ‘Can you get me a detailed analysis of all the murders, Gregory? As much detail as possible? Every scrap of evidence, every valuable fact that’s been recorded?’
‘No problem,’ Kirkdale assured him. ‘It’s all on disc. Do you want it before you address your teams?’
‘No, we’ve got DS Grant and DC Black checking on Dawlish’s movements and background. We need to update them on recent developments. I’ll speak to them before they leave after the conference. I want to see if Dawlish can be placed at any of the scenes, with or without Browning.’
‘Right, I’ll action that the moment the conference is over,’ promised Kirkdale, who smiled as he added, ‘You’re holding something back, aren’t you, sir? Do you know something the rest of us don’t?’
‘I have just the faintest flicker of a feeling about this case.’ Pemberton pursed his lips. ‘Maybe it’s too daft even to consider or maybe it isn’t, but I won’t air my feelings now; let’s wait until we’ve more information about Dawlish. Now, let’s talk to the troops and get them to work, they’ll be wondering what’s causing the delay.’
During the conference, Pemberton updated his detectives on current progress and referred to the photograph which had been viewed by Eddie Brodie. He told them that the man’s name was Hugh Dawlish and that he was a friend of James Browning. Copies were handed out to those detectives who would be working in the town for them to ask householders and witnesses if the man had been seen in Rainesbury or elsewhere, particularly during the weekend.
‘What we need to do,’ Pemberton exhorted them, ‘is to link Dawlish with Browning in either Crayton or Rainesbury over last weekend, or to link either of them with Debbie Hall during the same period. If they were here, where were they staying? Have we a team checking hotels and boarding houses?’
A couple of detectives raised their hands, so Pemberton continued, ‘Browning lived near Harlow Spa so he was within easy commuting distance, but if his pal was staying here, then Browning might have joined him for the weekend. Ask around all the likely hotels, boarding houses and bed-and-breakfast places, but remember these guys are — or were in Browning’s case — in business and would have expense accounts. You’d not expect to find them using scruffy places.’
‘Dawlish never seems to have stayed with Browning at his flat,’ Larkin pointed out.
‘But they did use bed-and-breakfast accommodation when attending their annual rallies,’ Pemberton reminded them. ‘Now, this is important. I don’t want you to mention Dawlish by name during these enquiries. If you show anyone the photo, pretend we want to know who he is, say he’s a friend of Browning, that’s all. Tell your witnesses we’re trying to establish a name for him, trying to get him identified — say we want to tell him about Browning’s accident, and if you’re checking hotel registers, don’t let the proprietors know who you’re asking about. The reason for this caution is that Dawlish is on his way here and I don’t want him to know we’re probing his background and movements. He mustn’t be alerted, not at this stage.’
Pemberton answered a few questions and then dismissed them to go about their enquiries, keeping back DS Grant and DC Black for a more detailed briefing. Prior to that, he fronted the daily news conference at which he confirmed the identity of the dead girl, Debbie Hall. He decided not to release a description of the man seen on the sea-front on Sunday night, the one who walked away with Debbie. If that description was published in the evening papers or even tomorrow’s dailies, it could alert Dawlish when he arrived in town.
When the press had gone, Holroyd left to return to his own station at Harlow Spa while Pemberton asked Larkin to join Detective Sergeant John Grant and Detective Constable Ian Black in his office. Coffee was ordered and Detective Inspector Kirkdale went off to procure a detailed list of the Sandal Stranglings. Grant, in his mid-thirties and wearing rimless spectacles, looked more like a provincial solicitor than a detective while Black, thick-set and in his late twenties, had the appearance of a rugger prop forward. But they worked well together and Pemberton was not afraid to entrust them with this task. Kirkdale arrived with several copies of his analysis charts, and handed one each to the detectives, Paul Larkin, and Pemberton. There was another for the noticeboard, a useful aide-memoire for the teams.
After Pemberton had updated Grant and Black, Kirkdale took over. ‘In all cases after the first, you’ll note the bodies were found on either Monday or Tuesday although the deaths had occurred the previous weekend. That was Midsummer weekend, or the weekend closest to Midsummer’s Day. The precise dates are given. Now, I’ll run through the details: 1987, Josephine Crawley’s body was found near Penthorne, County Durham, and this is generally regarded as the first of the Sandal Stranglings. 1988, Sophie Armitage at Oldsfield near Otterburn in Northumberland. 1989, Toni Petch at Rusthwaite near Windermere in the Lake District. 1990, Teresa Blackett at Linsby near Market Rasen in Lincolnshire and 1991 another in Lincolnshire, Rachel Pennock at Buckwold near Horncastle. In 1992, it was Gina Gibbons at Longwell near Buxton in Derbyshire, 1993 was Isa Pickford at Pontyllan near Betws-y-coed in North Wales, 1994 was Janice Gleeson at Kempley Woods in Gloucestershire, and 1995 was Amy Welsh at Fulstock near Woodstock in Oxfordshire. Last year it was Kay Sinton and she was found at East Welton near Market Harborough in Leicestershire. And now, this year, it’s Debbie Hall at Crayton not far from here. All were found dead in remote wooded areas, all were prostitutes from nearby towns, and all had their sandals removed and taken away, as you know. Their underwear disappeared too and was never found. The girls were not known to one another, and we don’t think drugs or some other criminal activity was the reason for their deaths.’
‘Thanks, Gregory. Now, what I want you to do,’ Pemberton told Grant and Black, ‘is to establish all you can about Dawlish and find out if he was anywhere near those places at the material times. We know that Browning was nearby at all the material times. If Dawlish was there, how did he travel and with whom? Has he a vintage car too? We have a team delving deeper into Browning’s movements in connection with those areas. Have words with them and with the team who are going through the stuff relating to the Roadster, the papers we found in Browning’s garage. I am hoping we might discover more references to Dawlish among those pape
rs.’
‘That’s DS Browne and DC Cox,’ Larkin told them.
‘So if we can tie Dawlish with those places, and also with Browning, then perhaps we can nail Dawlish,’ smiled Grant.
‘At least we can be prepared to ask him a lot of searching questions.’ Mark Pemberton felt a tremor of excitement. In his opinion, this was the most important development so far.
Chapter Thirteen
Shortly before lunch time that same Friday, Lorraine politely tapped on Pemberton’s office door. It was standing open so he waved her in.
‘Are you alone?’
‘Hi!’ Her appearance gave him joy as always. ‘Yes, all alone, so come in and take a seat. How’s it going out there?’
‘The teams have all gone out, so it’s calmed down, but I’ve been going through the papers that were brought in from Browning’s garage this morning. Tony and Maureen are digging further, but I found this and had a good look at it.’
She held up a hardcover exercise book.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘A diary, a diary for his MG Roadster.’ She smiled. ‘The journal of his car. It’s an account of all the things that have happened to the car since Browning bought it. It’s been completed in chronological order like a daily log would be. At first glance, it’s hardly worth our interest because it records his purchase and all the trivia that’s happened to the car since he bought it, such as when he got new tyres, when the water pump failed, when new plugs were fitted, when he had a scratch painted out, that sort of thing. Scenes of Crime have checked the diary for prints or whatever they look for and cleared it, but they hadn’t read it.’
‘And you have, and you’ve found something of relevance?’ He could sense her excitement.
‘Yes, in addition to the trivia, he’s included his outings in the car and every tiny facet associated with it. The first item of interest to us is at the very beginning.’ She adopted a modest attitude as she opened the book at the first page. ‘It’s in the paragraph where he’s listing the contents of the car when he got it from Dawlish — tool box, first aid kit, spare wheel, tow rope, the canvas hood, handbook, that sort of thing. Dawlish left some of his own things behind — a torch under the driver’s seat, for example, and a few coins for parking meters…and a pair of ladies’ sandals, size 5. They were under the passenger seat.’
Confession (The Mark Pemberton Cases Book 3) Page 13
