The Island Murders (Dorset Crime Book 3)

by Rachel McLean

  “It’s fine,” he said. “Send me your report when you’ve got it.”

  Whittaker looked impatient. “Of course I will.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Lesley turned in her chair as Gail and Tina entered the office they’d been allocated by the National Trust.

  “Morning,” she said. “Decent journey over?”

  Gail grimaced. “A bit choppy today.”

  Lesley looked out of the window. It had been sunny when she’d arrived, but now there were clouds over the harbour and she could see that the water was uneven. Johnny was probably still on the quay, trying not to chuck up.

  “How’s progress with the boat?” she asked Gail.

  “It’s in dry storage over in Poole,” the CSM replied. “We’ve analysed the seat, top and bottom. All we’ve got is that one patch of blood. I’ve sent samples away for DNA analysis. I’ll be back at the beach today, giving it the final once-over.”

  “Good,” said Lesley. “When can we expect the DNA results back?”

  “A few days.”

  Lesley frowned. She didn’t like waiting.

  “Did you find anything elsewhere on the boat? Hairs? Fibres? I don’t suppose we’d be so lucky as to have had the killer drop their shoe or something?”

  Gail grimaced. “I’m afraid we’re all out of stupid killers this week.”

  Lesley leaned back in her chair. She craned her neck to look up at the ceiling. Her back ached; the bed in the cottage was too soft.

  “Ah, stupid killers,” she said. “I wish we had more of those.”

  Lesley caught movement from of the corner of her eye and sat up. The three PCs entered the room, gathering around Tina. Another uniformed officer was behind them, a sergeant.

  Lesley gave him a nod. “Sergeant.”

  “Ma’am,” he replied. “I’m Sergeant Dillick. I’m here to coordinate our officers today.”

  Lesley glanced at Tina. As far as she was aware, Tina had been doing a good job of it. But Uniform wouldn’t like a PC who’d been drafted into CID bossing their guys around.

  “Of course,” she said.

  Regardless of the politics, an extra officer would mean more interviews. Hopefully they would be able to speak to everybody today.

  “Is DC Chiles with you?” she asked.

  Dillick frowned. “No one else, Ma’am.”

  Lesley looked at Gail. She’d been expecting Johnny back.

  She made a note to check with Dennis. He’d probably spoken to the DC. She hoped Johnny’s wife was OK.

  “I want to prioritise the John Lewis people,” she said.

  “You sure?” replied Gail. “Surely the National Trust people were closer to Simone, more likely to have a motive.”

  Lesley shook her head. “Yolanda Harte wants to get them all out of here on a boat later today. I want us to find out if they saw anything before they disappear.”

  The sergeant nodded. “I’ll get on to it, Ma’am,” he said. “We’ve got the list.”

  The sergeant left the room, taking his three officers with him. Tina was about to leave when Lesley raised a hand to stop her.

  “Hang on a minute, Tina. You wait here while we have the briefing.”

  “Briefing, boss?” Tina asked.

  “I’m calling in to Dennis. Get the office on speakerphone, will you.”

  “Of course.”

  Tina lowered herself into a chair and pulled out her mobile phone. She dialled and put the phone on the table.

  After a few moments, Dennis’s voice came over the speaker.

  “Morning all,” he said.

  Tina pushed her phone into the centre of the table.

  “You’re ready for us?” Lesley asked.

  “More than,” Dennis replied. “I’ve just come from the post-mortem.”

  Lesley checked her watch: half past nine. “Whittaker is getting up early these days.”

  “Don’t knock it.”

  She smiled. “Anything new from the PM?”

  “Nothing,” he replied. “We’ve got attempted strangulation marks on her neck but Whittaker is confident it was drowning that killed her.”

  “So she wasn’t strangled, and then pushed in?”

  “If she was, the strangling wasn’t enough to finish her off. Might have made her easier to push in, but it was the water that killed her. There’s foaming around her mouth. I’m expecting confirmation that her lungs will show signs of having been full of water.”

  “OK,” she said. “So her killer tried to strangle her and then pushed her in the water. The question is, did he think she was dead already, or did he do that to finish the job?”

  “And what about that blood?” asked Gail.

  “That’ll all depend on whose it is,” Lesley said. “It might be unrelated.”

  “I doubt it,” Gail replied. “Hell of a coincidence.”

  Lesley sighed. She didn’t want to rely on a piece of evidence that she couldn’t expect to know more about for a few days.

  “We’ll work with what we’ve got for now,” she said. “We need to know who took that boat out. I’ve got a witness who heard two women arguing late on Monday night. One of them could have been Simone, but we’re not sure. We need to know if anyone else saw anything and if that boat was seen going out Monday night, or early Tuesday morning.”

  “Are we sure that Anya’s story is correct?” Dennis asked. “Meeting Simone for a drink?”

  “Might be, might not,” Lesley said. “You think it was Anya having the argument with Simone?”

  “It’s a possibility. Perhaps Anya killed her.”

  “It’s too much of a leap based on what we’ve got,” Lesley said. “We need to find out who this argument was between, whether Simone was one of the participants, and if so, whether it’s related to her death.”

  “Do you want me to speak to the conservation team?” Tina asked.

  Lesley nodded. “Yes. Anya first, then Natasha, followed by Frankie. Run through their stories again, check for inconsistencies. And with Anya in particular, I want the specifics of what she and Simone did on Monday night. What time they met, where they went, what they talked about. Get details, check out her story.”

  “Should I ask if she had an argument with her?”

  “Yes,” Lesley replied. “No point beating about the bush.”

  “And then there’s Bernard Williams,” Mike said over the speaker.

  “What about him?” Lesley asked.

  “He was the one Simone spoke to when she called in sick. Who’s to say he’s telling the truth?”

  “Do you think he’s lying? Covering for somebody?”

  “Covering for his wife maybe?” said Dennis.

  Lesley looked out of the window towards the sea. “See if you can find him as well,” she told Tina. “Get him separately from his wife, check their movements on Monday and Tuesday. Again, I’m looking for inconsistencies.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Tina stood up, about to leave the room, then remembered that her mobile phone was being used as a speakerphone. She looked at it and sat down.

  “Is Johnny with you?” Lesley asked Dennis.

  “Not yet. I thought he’d be back on the island.”

  “He wasn’t on the boat.”

  “I’ll speak to him. I assume he’s with his wife.”

  Lesley looked at Tina. “How was he on the boat last night?”

  “Green around the gills,” Tina replied. “Stressed. He was sweating, looked like he was going to throw up.”

  “That’s Johnny and boats,” Lesley said. “Give him a call, Dennis. I don’t want him to feel that we’ve abandoned him.”

  “That was my plan after this conversation, boss.”

  “Of course.” Lesley realised that Tina was still with them. “Tina, did you get that bag for me? Overnight stuff?”

  “I didn’t have time to go to your house, so I went to Marks and Spencers in Bournemouth. I hope that’s OK? I figured…”

&
nbsp; Lesley knew what the younger woman was thinking. She wasn’t known for her fashion sense, but at least she was presentable. Marks and Spencers was cheaper than her usual clothes, a bit shabbier, but it would work.

  A plastic carrier bag leaned against the wall by the door. Tina put it on the desk. Lesley removed it, placing it on the floor by her feet. She would worry about that later.

  “OK,” she said. “Tina, let’s get out there and start those interviews. Gail, tell me if you find anything else on the boat or the beach. Dennis, give Johnny my best will you?”

  “No problem, boss.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Lesley hurried out of the café building, heading towards the castle. She needed to find Yolanda Harte before those boats arrived and took her staff off the island.

  She stopped at the gates, glad she knew where the intercom was this time, and leaned on the buzzer.

  After a moment the gate opened. The same woman who’d answered it yesterday, Greta, stood looking at her.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, looking for all the world like she had no idea who Lesley was.

  “I need to speak to Yolanda Harte.”

  “She’s in a conference call with head office.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  Lesley stepped through the gate, determined not to let the woman shut her out.

  “I’ll sit out here,” she said, nodding towards a bench facing out towards the harbour.

  Greta shrugged. “I’ll tell her you’re here.”

  Lesley made for the bench and threw herself down.

  She felt restless and irritable. She didn’t like not knowing what was behind the tension between the two groups of residents. She didn’t like not knowing who was telling the truth about Simone Browning’s movements before she died. And she didn’t like being stuck on this island while Sharon was gallivanting around the country.

  She took out her phone and dialled Elsa, who picked up on the second ring.

  Lesley slumped back in the bench, relieved to have got through.

  “Hey El,” she said.

  “Hello, sweetie. D’you want to know how Sharon is?”

  “I’m so sorry she turned up at yours like that.”

  “It’s fine.” Elsa’s voice was terse. “She’s still at the flat, I’m at work.”

  “Of course.” Lesley couldn’t possibly expect her girlfriend to stay home and look after her daughter. “How long is she planning on staying?”

  “She didn’t say, she wants to wait until you get back.”

  Damn.

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be stuck over here.”

  She would have to find a boat, go back to see Sharon and then return to the island to continue the investigation. She didn’t like being derailed like this. But she was a single mum now, and she knew that was all about juggling responsibilities. She’d seen it often enough with her colleagues. She’d seen it at close hand with Zoe Finch.

  “OK,” she said. “There’ll be a boat leaving here this afternoon, I’ll come back.”

  And then she’d have to return tomorrow morning with Tina and the other PCs, if they needed to return.

  “Again, I’m really sorry Els. I didn’t expect her to turn up on your door.”

  Elsa grunted. “She’s not happy, you know.”

  “What about?”

  “Her and Terry. I don’t know what’s going on between them, but she’s pissed off.”

  “She doesn’t like his new girlfriend’s son,” Lesley said. “He’s just a kid. Getting in her way I suppose.”

  Things were tough for Sharon right now. One parent at the opposite end of the country, busy with work as ever. And the other building himself a new family. Sharon had been desperate enough to book herself a train ticket, find her way to Dorset without telling anybody, and turn up not just at Lesley’s door, but Elsa’s.

  “Did she go to mine first?” she asked Elsa, “Before she came to you?”

  “Apparently yes. She got a taxi. She’s nicked Terry’s credit card. Knew his PIN.”

  Lesley grinned. “Resourceful of her.”

  “She keeps saying he’s going to kill her for it.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Lesley replied.

  The least he could do was pay for his daughter’s escape, if he was the one who’d brought it about.

  Lesley spotted Yolanda Harte walking down a broad flight of steps. Her lips were pursed and her body language tight.

  “I have to go,” she said. “I’ll call you, let you know when I’m getting back.”

  And she’d speak to Sharon too.

  “OK, speak to you later. Love you.” Elsa hung up.

  Lesley held the phone out in front of her, her chest light. Elsa hadn’t said that to her before.

  She put her phone in her pocket, struggling to switch to DCI mode, and looked up at Yolanda. The woman was standing between Lesley and the sun, forcing Lesley to squint to see her.

  “You were looking for me?” Yolanda asked.

  “I want to speak to your staff before they get on a boat. I’m sure you understand that it’s important that we—“

  Yolanda waved a hand in dismissal. “I understand, Detective, and I’ve arranged a staff meeting for ten o’clock this morning. You can address them all there. Does that work for you?”

  “That works perfectly, thank you.”

  Lesley had no idea if there were any individuals among the John Lewis staff who could be of help. That being the case, the easiest thing was to get them all in one room and ask them to come forward if they’d seen anything. Yolanda had done the right thing.

  She stood up and brushed down her skirt. She’d left that Marks and Spencers bag back in the office, but she needed to find time to go back to the cottage and get changed. She was still in yesterday’s underwear. She felt rank and sticky.

  “I’ll see you at ten o’clock,” she told Yolanda. In the meantime, Tina would need her help with those interviews.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Anya Davinski was a slim blonde woman with thin, straggly hair. She opened the door to Tina and her face fell at the sight of the uniform.

  “Oh,” she said. “You need me again?”

  Tina gave her a tight smile. “Sorry to bother you, Ms Davinski. Do you mind if I come in?”

  The woman shrugged. She stood back to let Tina in, not looking happy about it.

  Tina walked through to a low-ceilinged sitting room. She looked back at Anya, who gestured towards an armchair. Tina took it, placing her hands in her lap. She took her notepad out. Anything to keep her hands busy, to alleviate the tension.

  Anya took the matching armchair opposite, leaving the sofa between them empty. The room was so cramped it was barely possible to move around it. Tina wondered if whoever had chosen the furniture had ever seen the room.

  “Thanks for talking to me again,” she said. “I wanted to ask you a few more questions about when you saw Simone on Monday night.”

  Anya gave her a slow nod. “I thought you would be back.”

  “Why’s that?”

  The woman shrugged. “I was the last person to see her alive, I suppose you might think I did it.”

  Tina frowned. “Why might you think that?”

  “The last person to see her alive, the first person to suspect. I didn’t, though. Simone was alive when she left me.”

  “Can you remind me what the two of you did when you met up?”

  “We sat outside the café, we use the tables there when it’s closed. She brought two tins of lager. There is no pub here. Sitting there, it feels more like going out than sitting in someone’s house.”

  Tina had been trying to imagine what it would be like to live here, a population of just forty-two and nothing to occupy you after finishing work for the day. These people must be consumed by their work.

  “How did Simone seem when she left you?” she asked.

  A shrug. “Fine, normal.”

  “Did she leave you at the ca
fé or did you walk back towards her house with her?”

  “I already told your colleague. The thin man.”

  “Please. We’re just checking.”

  Anya gave her a look. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just wondering.”

  “She left me at the café, I was sitting on the bench when she left.”

  “And what time was this?”

  “Nine o’clock, something like that? We weren’t looking at the time.”

  “But you had to be up early the next morning for work.”

  “My house is a five minute walk from my work,” Anya told her. “One minute from the café. It’s not like I have a commute.”

  “No. So did the two of you fall out while you were talking?”

  “Fall out?”

  “Did you argue?”

  “No.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  “She was telling me about a new project she’s working on. A squirrel thing, for Natasha.”

  “And did you talk about what you were working on?”

  Anya shook her head. “I talked about my boyfriend. Pavel, he lives in Poland. I think he has found another woman.”

  “So the two of you were on good terms when she left you?”

  “We were. I was sad. I didn’t know what to do about Pavel. Simone tried to make me feel better.”

  “Was she going straight home?” Tina asked.

  “I didn’t ask, why would I? There’s nowhere else to go.”

  “And how long did you stay outside the café after she left you?”

  “Two minutes. No more than five. I looked at the lights coming on over the harbour, thinking about home. I lived on the coast, a place called Leba. Lots of wildlife, not many people. This island is like that too, especially in the winter.”

  “And did you hear anything after Simone left you?”

  “Anything like what?”

  “Did you hear her talking to anyone else? An argument maybe?”

  “You already asked if I had an argument with her. No.”

  “Not necessarily with you,” Tina replied. “But could you have heard an argument between her and someone else?”

  “I heard nothing. I stared out to sea, I stood up, I went home, I went to bed. I got up in the morning and went to work. Next time I heard about Simone was when she did not arrive at the team meeting.”