Kill Shot: A Cavendish & Walker Novel - Book 10

by Sally Rigby

  And no doubt he was able to write it off against his taxes, which they already knew he managed to avoid paying. Not that she was going down that avenue now. It wasn’t relevant.

  ‘How long has the club been going?’

  ‘My father opened it twenty-five years ago.’

  ‘Is he here?’

  His eyes clouded over. ‘He died last year. I’m in charge now.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that. Is Scott Marshall a good shot?’ Whitney asked, wanting to confirm what they’d already been told.

  ‘Not as good as Jessica, but he’s okay. He’s a typical sportsman, competitive and better than average at whatever he attempts. But …’ He hesitated. ‘I’m not sure whether I should mention this.’

  ‘Yes, you should. This is a murder investigation and any piece of information you have, however inconsequential you might think it is, could help us.’

  He nodded. ‘Scott has caused issues here over the years.’

  ‘What sort of issues?’

  ‘Let’s just say he has a wandering eye. There was one time when I caught him in a compromising position with a female trainer we had working here. And if that wasn’t bad enough, his wife was here shooting on one of the ranges.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Told my father, and he changed the trainer’s shifts so she wasn’t around at times when we thought Jessica and Scott would be here. They were more regular visitors then, so it was easy to organise. We didn’t want to lose Jessica as a patron in case her father decided to withdraw from the club also.’

  ‘Did Jessica suspect anything between Scott and this woman?’

  ‘If she did, we didn’t hear about it.’

  ‘Is this trainer still here?’

  ‘No, she left a few years ago.’

  ‘Ryan Armstrong was killed with a .22 calibre handgun. Would you be able to get your hands on one, if asked?’

  ‘They’re illegal.’

  ‘That’s not what I asked,’ Whitney said.

  ‘I would have an idea where to get one.’

  ‘Has anyone asked you about acquiring one recently?’

  ‘No, they haven’t.’

  ‘Did Ryan Armstrong ever visit the range with Scott or Jessica?’ Whitney asked.

  ‘I saw him a couple of times with Scott. Not recently, though. He was a good shot, too. Like I said about Scott, good sportsmen can turn their hand to anything.’ His phone rang, and he looked at the screen. ‘Sorry, I have to get this.’

  Aiden walked away, leaving them alone.

  ‘Scott can handle a gun. Is that relevant? It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be.’

  Chapter 29

  When they arrived at the Palace Snooker Club Whitney spotted Glen Tibbs standing by the bar talking to one of the staff. She hurried over and interrupted his conversation.

  ‘Is Scott Marshall here?’

  Tibbs looked at his watch. ‘He went to the gym an hour ago.’

  ‘In the middle of a tournament?’

  ‘He said he had to do something to let off steam. We didn’t need him here as he doesn’t have anything to do with the day-to-day running of the place. If anything, it’s easier when he’s not around as I can get on with the job of having everything in place, instead of having him following me around questioning what I’m doing.’

  ‘Which gym does he use?’

  ‘The one in Giles Street. You might just catch him there as he’s usually gone for an hour and a half.’

  ‘Does he go regularly?’

  ‘As clockwork. He’s there most days.’

  ‘I know the gym,’ she said to George as they left the club. ‘I went to a couple of aerobics sessions there a few years ago.’

  ‘Only a couple?’

  ‘Work got in the way, as usual. I keep meaning to start going to classes again, but it’s never the right time. And now with the baby on the way there’s no chance.’

  ‘You should try to make time. You’ll benefit from it.’

  ‘I know, but it’s not going to happen.’

  ‘It could if you were determined. We could go together if you like,’ George offered.

  ‘Let me think about it. But I can’t promise.’ She had enough on her plate without adding the need to exercise more.

  When they arrived at the gym, Whitney held out her warrant card for the girl behind the reception desk to see.

  ‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Walker. Can you point me in the direction of Scott Marshall, please?’

  ‘I’m sorry you’ve just missed him. He left about five minutes ago to grab a coffee and then head back to his snooker club where there’s a tournament going on.’

  ‘Damn,’ she muttered. They’d have to go back to the snooker club and catch him there.

  ‘Does he have a locker?’ George asked.

  She hadn’t thought about that. Although how likely was it that the murder weapon would be in there?

  ‘Yes, in the male changing rooms.’

  ‘Where are they, and which one is his?’ Whitney asked.

  ‘Down there.’ She pointed down the corridor. ‘I’ll check the locker list for his number.’ She picked up a folder on the desk and opened it. ‘Scott’s is 431.’

  ‘Is the manager here? We need permission to go into it?’

  ‘I’ll call her.’ She pulled over a microphone and pressed the button. ‘Hallie York to reception, please. Hallie York to reception.’

  ‘Don’t you need Marshall’s permission?’ George asked.

  ‘No. The manager’s will suffice as the gym owns the lockers.’

  ‘Here she is.’ The receptionist said, as the double doors to the right of reception opened and a woman in gym gear headed towards them.

  ‘What is it, Kylie?’

  ‘The police.’

  ‘DCI Walker,’ Whitney said, stepping forward and holding our her warrant card. ‘We’d like permission to take a look in Scott Marshall’s locker. I’m assuming that when people hire lockers they sign an agreement allowing you to open them at any time.’

  ‘That’s right, they do. What are you looking for?’

  ‘It’s part of an ongoing enquiry.’

  ‘Kylie, pass me the locker master key.’ She took the key from the receptionist. ‘Each locker owner sets their own keypad code. This will override it.’

  They followed her down the corridor and to the changing rooms.

  ‘Is anyone in here?’ Hallie called out, pushing the door open a few inches. After waiting a couple of seconds and there being no reply, she opened the door fully, and they entered the large changing room, which had wooden benches along three of the walls and one going down the middle. The showers were on the left and there was a bank of lockers to the rear. ‘This is Scott’s. I’ll open it for you.’

  ‘Thanks. You can leave us now,’ Whitney said, once the locker was open. ‘Please make sure that no one comes in here until we’ve finished.’

  Whitney waited until she’d left, pulled on some disposable gloves, gave a pair to George, and then opened the door fully. ‘What a mess,’ she said, looking at everything piled high. She took out her phone and photographed each item in situ. ‘Hold out your hands so I can pass some things over. He’s got two fitness training manuals, a sponge bag with razor, shampoo, shower gel, deodorant, and aftershave.’ She zipped up the bag and gave it to George. ‘Two pairs of trainers. Why? Surely he’d only need one.’

  ‘Can I put these things on the bench as my arms are full?’

  ‘Yes, okay. What’s this?’ she said standing on tiptoe and feeling towards the back of the locker. It was a towel with something wrapped up inside it. She turned to George. ‘There’s something at the back which I can’t see. Can you take a photo of it before I pull it out.’ She held out her phone and stepped out of the way while George approached.

  ‘How many photos do you need?’

  ‘Take one from each angle.’

  Whitney waited while George took several.

  �
�Done. Do you want me to take the item out of the locker, or do you have to?’ George asked.

  ‘You can.’ She waited while George extracted it and handed it to her. She opened the towel. ‘Bloody hell. A handgun. I’ve got an evidence bag in my right-hand jacket pocket. Can you reach it?’

  ‘Yes,’ George said, pulling it out.

  ‘Good. Open it up and let me drop this towel and gun in there. I’ll keep it wrapped so the gym staff can’t see what we’ve found. We need to get back to the station pronto and get this to forensics.’ She piled everything back into the locker, pushed the door shut, which automatically locked, and then returned to reception, where the manager was stationed. ‘The changing rooms are to be locked. No one is allowed in there. I’ll be arranging for forensics to go in there.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m not at liberty to explain, other than to say they are now part of an investigation.’

  ‘How long will they be closed for?’

  ‘At least for the rest of the day, maybe longer. Please ensure no one is told of our visit here.’ She looked from the manager to the receptionist. ‘We’ll be in touch if we need anything further from you.’ They walked away, and once out of earshot she turned to George. ‘Once we get back to the station, I’ll instruct uniform to bring Marshall in again for questioning. This could be the murder weapon, but we need confirmation from forensics.’

  ‘It’s a bit convenient if it is,’ George said, shaking her head.

  ‘Is it? He wasn’t to know we’d be tracking him down at the gym. He probably stashed it there before getting rid of it.’

  ‘Maybe,’ George said.

  ‘You’re not convinced.’

  ‘I don’t doubt that we’ve found the weapon. My hesitation is around Scott Marshall being the murderer. I’d like more concrete evidence because, at the moment, it feels like we’re being led in that direction.’

  ‘Who do you think it is then?’

  ‘I’m not prepared to comment without further evidence.’

  ‘You can be most infuriating. I’m going to phone Claire to let her know that we’ve found the gun.’ She pulled out her phone and pressed speed dial for the pathologist.

  ‘Dexter.’

  ‘It’s Whitney. We’ve located a handgun which might be the murder weapon in the shooting of Ryan Armstrong. Do you want to see it first before it gets dropped off at forensics?’

  ‘I can’t do anything with it here, so take it straight there. Ballistics will look at the gun and check the markings on the bullet and those found in the body. They’ll also fire the gun into some cloth and take a look at the residue patterns to see if they match the ones on the clothing belonging to the victim. If all of this matches, it’s the weapon.’

  ‘Okay, we’ll do that. Thanks.’ Whitney ended the call. ‘Claire just explained to me the process they go through for identifying whether the gun was used in the shooting. I know all of that, as we’ve had shootings before, so why do it now?’

  ‘Could be the result of that meeting she went to with the Chief Constable about improving relationships?’ George suggested.

  ‘Maybe. But it’s still weird.’

  Chapter 30

  Once Whitney was back at the station, after George had dropped her off, she took the gun to forensics, went to the incident room and updated the team on their discoveries. She’d hoped that Clifford would be there so he could hear the latest, but he wasn’t at the desk where he usually sat.

  ‘Brian, contact uniform and ask them to bring in Scott Marshall for questioning. He should be back at the snooker club by now. Meena, I’ll forward photos of the gun we found. Print off several copies. Frank, did you see Marshall’s car?’

  ‘Yes, guv, I tracked him as far as I could and he was heading in the direction of his house, and nowhere near the club.’

  ‘Damn. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t go out again.’

  ‘Nothing showed on the cameras, but there are routes he could take where he could avoid them, if he knows the area well. Or he could’ve used a different car, or phoned for a taxi.’

  ‘Okay. I’m going to let the super know what’s going on.’

  The super’s door was open when she arrived, and she knocked gently and stuck her head around.

  ‘Come in, Whitney. Good news, I hope.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. We’re closing in on the murderer. A handgun was found in Scott Marshall’s gym locker, and forensics are currently examining it to confirm whether it’s the murder weapon. We’ll need a search warrant for the Marshall house and the Palace Snooker Club.’

  ‘Excellent work. Leave it with me, I’ll make sure the warrants are expedited. Solving this case can’t come soon enough. Do we have a motive? How does it fit in with DI Clifford’s case?’

  ‘We’ve yet to learn the motive, although it is pointing to being linked to the affair between Scott Marshall and the victim’s wife. If that’s the case, it’s unlikely to be anything to do with the syndicate being investigated by Clifford. That means he’ll return to the Met. Which I’m not unhappy about.’

  ‘Has there been a problem?’ The super scrutinised her face.

  Whitney squirmed in her seat. She hated that the woman could do that to her. ‘Not at all, ma’am. If anything, we’ve developed a good working relationship. But that doesn’t alter the fact that having two potential bosses, you and Clifford’s superior, is a recipe for disaster.’

  ‘As long as I don’t hear from the Met that we’ve been obstructive, that’s fine. I’ll let you know once the warrants arrive.’

  As all they had to do was wait, she decided to pop down to the canteen and buy a coffee. It seemed ages since her last caffeine fix, and she was desperate for one. She took the lift to the ground floor and as she pushed open the canteen door, she spotted Clifford near the front of the queue. She’d break the news about Marshall to him now, to save doing it upstairs in front of everyone.

  ‘Coffee and a chocolate muffin for me,’ she said as she approached him.

  ‘Okay, guv.’

  ‘I’ll find us a table and we can have a chat.’

  She headed to the corner, away from prying ears, as she was still conscious of the need to keep the Met operation secret from everyone.

  ‘You have something to tell me?’ Clifford said, when he arrived at the table carrying a tray with coffee and muffins.

  ‘I have good news and bad news.’

  ‘Start with the good.’

  ‘We’ve recovered what we believe is the murder weapon and should be arresting the killer shortly.’

  ‘And the bad?’

  ‘It’s Scott Marshall, so you’ve lost your informant.’

  ‘Damn. Are you sure about this?’

  ‘The gun was found in his locker at the gym.’

  ‘It could have been planted.’

  ‘Yes, that’s correct, so it’s not a slam dunk. We’re waiting for a search warrant to go through his house and the club. Uniform are being instructed to bring him in as we speak.’

  ‘I’d like to interview with you because, as yet, we don’t know the motive. What he told us in his previous interview could have been a pack of lies. The fact he’s agreed to work for me could be a double bluff. The syndicate might have authorised him to work with me, so they have a plant. They could have murdered Armstrong to get Marshall in with the special squad.’

  ‘That’s stretching it, but as we don’t know for certain then yes, I agree for us to interview him together.’

  ‘Do you have an alternative suggested motive to mine?’ he asked.

  ‘To get Armstrong out of the way so he could be with Naomi. Saves the bother of a messy divorce for her.’

  ‘Except that he would end up with one instead, as his wife invested in the club. And don’t forget, Naomi was the one who mentioned them moving in together. I got the feeling from Marshall that it probably wasn’t going to happen. There’s got to be something else. This doesn’t sit right.’

  ‘If you’re
talking about having a gut feeling, then make sure not to mention it to George.’

  He laughed, it was deep and warm. ‘My lips are sealed. Will Dr Cavendish be with us for the interview?’

  ‘No, her day job beckoned.’

  ‘Day job?’

  ‘Just a joke. She sometimes spends more time here than she does at the university. We’ll manage fine without her.’

  ‘I don’t doubt that. I must admit I found it exceptionally useful having her whispering in my ear, so to speak. It’s not something I’ve done before, but will see about introducing it.’

  ‘Good luck finding someone.’ She picked up her mug and took a large swallow of coffee, enjoying the warmth as it travelled down her throat. Then she took a large bite of her muffin and just about managed not to groan as the chocolate liquid centre oozed into her mouth. Her phone rang, and she picked it up. ‘Walker.’

  ‘Marshall’s in interview room three, guv,’ Meena said.

  ‘Thanks. Bring down a brown folder with a photo of the weapon inside. We’ll meet you there in five minutes.’

  They finished their coffees and left for the interview room, where Meena was waiting.

  Armed with the folder, Whitney and Clifford went in to confront Marshall, who jumped up when they walked in.

  ‘What the hell’s going on? Why was I brought in by officers in uniform so everyone at the club could see?’ He looked at Clifford. ‘And you want my help? Well, you’re going a funny way about it.’

  ‘Sit down,’ Whitney snapped, with such force that the man immediately dropped back down onto his chair. She pressed the recording equipment. ‘Mr Marshall, we’re—’

  ‘Oh, suddenly you’re calling me Mr Marshall. What’s going on? Do I need a solicitor?’

  ‘You’re entitled to have one, if you wish. At the moment, we just want to question you about certain aspects of our investigation.’