‘Thank you, Mr Adamant,’ Isaac said. ‘Due to the seriousness of the charges, you will be held while further investigations are conducted.’
Chapter 29
‘Not a good interview,’ Larry said outside the interview room.
‘A disaster,’ Isaac said. ‘The man’s right, our evidence is flimsy, more assumption than fact.’
‘You’ve got thirty-six hours to fix this up, or else Adamant is out of here, and his QC is going to raise the roof,’ Goddard said.
Isaac realised he had been premature in bringing Adamant into the station, but there had been no option with the man’s impending departure from the country. There was no doubt that he was guilty, but without proof the case against him was going nowhere. Isaac realised that, once again, time was of the essence. He phoned Bridget. ‘Fifteen minutes, everyone in the office.’
‘Tough day, sir,’ Bridget said. She had sensed the frustration in Isaac’s voice.
‘You’re a bit of a hero down at Scotland Yard,’ Goddard said after Isaac had ended his call. ‘Davies is singing your praises after you wrapped up five murders. Don’t stuff it up.’
‘Archie Adamant, he’s tough. We’ll not break him easily,’ Isaac said.
‘He’s got public opinion behind him. Anything other than cast-iron proof is not going to hold up.’
‘We’ll come up with the proof. The team won’t let me down.’
In Homicide, the team sat down. No one would be going home until all avenues had been explored.
‘What do we have against Archie Adamant?’ Isaac said. ‘Apart from Knox and Aberman’s ex-wife, do we have anyone else?’
‘Gus, the Dixey Club’s doorman, and Ugly Pete?’
‘Gus had no dealings with the man, and Ugly Pete is a murderer. It will need something decisive and indisputable to ensure a conviction.’
‘Abigail Adamant, what do we reckon to her?’ Larry said.
‘Frivolous, interested in a good time,’ Wendy said.
‘If Adamant goes down for murder, it’s her lifestyle that will be curtailed. She’d not want that,’ Isaac said.
‘We were there when Slater was shot. He was about to tell us something,’ Larry said.
‘But why? Whatever he said would have only been to protect himself, place the blame on others. Or maybe he was frightened for his life. Whoever shot him had panicked and seen the danger.’
‘Self-protection?’
‘Has Slater’s office been checked, his clients’ files?’
‘The man was meticulous,’ Bridget said. ‘Fraud checked, found nothing untoward. The papers for Aberman’s house were there.’
‘Wendy, spend time with Aberman’s neighbour. Larry and I will stay here with Bridget, see what else we can find,’ Isaac said.
***
Wendy found Mrs Hawthorne in a good mood. ‘It’s her next door.’
‘What about her?’ Wendy asked.
‘Her husband was here last night. They had a terrible argument. I could hear it from my side of the fence.’
Wendy knew that Mrs Hawthorne was just the sort of person a murder investigation needs; the last thing a neighbour wants.
‘What was said?’
‘I wasn’t listening, not particularly.’ Wendy knew she was.
‘Maybe if we sit down and have a cup of tea,’ Wendy suggested.
Knox was languishing in prison, awaiting trial. Adamant was being held at Challis Street, and he was about to walk free, which would only mean trouble. Already the man’s QC had been on the phone to DCS Goddard and to Commissioner Davies.
‘I only hope you know what you’re doing,’ Goddard commented to Isaac after he had ended the call from the QC.
Davies’s reaction had been more direct. ‘Don’t let Cook stuff this up.’ So much for the honeymoon period, Goddard thought after the commissioner ended the call.
‘Mrs Hawthorne, what was the argument about?’ Wendy said. Both of the women were sitting comfortably by an imitation wood fire. Wendy was anxious to draw the information out of a woman who was glad of the company.
‘She wanted him to stay at the house, he didn’t. Something about it being a shrine to a dead man, a man she loved more than him.’
‘Is that all?’
‘The husband’s right. The woman, she fusses around where Mr Aberman’s body was found, even erected a little cross.’
Wendy realised the woman didn’t only look over the fence, she also had a pair of binoculars. She could sympathise with Aberman’s ex-wife.
‘What happened with the husband? Did he stay?’
‘Not him. He slammed the door hard on his way out and got into his car.’
‘The woman?’
‘I didn’t see her again. She had a visitor later.’
‘Do you know who it was?’
‘It was Archie.’
‘Archie Adamant?’ Wendy said. The name had come as a surprise to her. ‘I didn’t know you knew the Adamants.’
‘I don’t, not really. Before I retired, I was a teacher at a school not far from here. Very expensive, it was. It was Archie, I’m certain, even though it was twenty, maybe twenty-five years ago. Back then, he was skinny, used to play football for the school team. Now, he’s overweight, and no longer attractive.’
‘How can you be certain?’
‘I always remember my boys. He was a little surly, a bully sometimes, but his academic results were fine, and he was a fine sportsman.’
‘We’ve arrested Archie Adamant for murder,’ Wendy said.
‘I’m not surprised.’
‘Why?’
‘I knew his father was successful, although I never met him. The mother would come sometimes, but she died. After that, Archie seemed to spend a lot of time on his own. He used to cheat in the exams.’
‘Did you catch him?’
‘I saw him do it once, told him I’d report him the next time.’
‘Did he stop?’
‘Archie? I doubt it, just became more careful. He was always pushing the boundaries.’
‘Sneaking young girls into the school? I’m assuming it was boarding.’
‘It was, but not Archie. Some of the other boys did. I don’t know why as he wasn’t a bad-looking boy when he was younger.’
‘He’s never married,’ Wendy said.
‘He wasn’t gay, or at least, I don’t think he was.’
‘He wasn’t. The man is celibate. What else can you tell me about him?’
‘Not much more. I continued for a few years more at the school before retiring. Last night was the first time I’d seen him since.’
Wendy made a phone call to Isaac. ‘Archie Adamant’s been out to Aberman’s house, met with the man’s widow.’
‘Give me thirty-five minutes, and we’ll go and interview her. Is she at home?’
‘There’s a car in the driveway.’
Wendy turned to Mrs Hawthorne. ‘Is she there?’
‘She’s not been out.’
‘She’s in the house,’ Wendy said to Isaac.
‘Make sure she doesn’t leave.’
‘I’ll put my car in her driveway, block her exit.’
‘That’ll do.’
‘The missing piece?’ Wendy said.
‘I hope so.’
***
Isaac, acutely conscious of the remaining time he could hold Adamant in custody at Challis Street, made the trip to Bray in thirty-two minutes. ‘Does she know we’re here?’ Isaac asked.
‘I’m sure she does,’ Wendy said.
The two police officers walked down the driveway of Aberman’s old house. Wendy knocked on the door.
‘Sergeant Gladstone, what do you want?’
‘I’m here with DCI Cook. We’ve a few questions for you.’
‘Very well, do come in.’
The three sat in the kitchen. ‘It’s the warmest place in the house,’ the woman said. Wendy thought she was remarkably calm, as if she was making an effort to conceal her true feeli
ngs.
‘Last night you had a visitor,’ Wendy said.
‘I had two. My husband, although he did not stay long.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘It’s her next door, isn’t it?’
‘What happened last night should concern you more.’
‘My husband has become difficult. He wants to live in London, I want to live here.’
‘Is that it?’
‘He thinks I’m becoming obsessive about the house, as if it’s become a remembrance of Ben.’
‘Has it?’
‘I can’t help remembering the good times we had here, it’s only natural, and I certainly don’t believe the spirit of the dead man walks the house at night.’
‘The room where he died?’ Isaac asked.
‘My husband planned to make it into a study. If he doesn’t want to come here, then I’ll find a use for it.’
‘Will he come?’
‘What option does he have? Both of the houses are in my name. If he wants London, then he can find himself a bedsit.’
‘Do you want him to come here?’
‘It’s up to him. I like it here. He’s no Ben, just a man for the cold nights.’
‘I’ve not heard you speak like that before,’ Wendy said.
‘I’m angry. He’s a decent man even if he can be tiresome at times. He’ll come, and I’ll be glad of his company.’
‘Your other visitor interests us more,’ Isaac said.
‘Archie Adamant.’
‘Had you met him before?’
‘It was the first time.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He threatened me. He told me if I said anything it would not be good for me.’
‘Should we reconvene at Challis Street Police Station? Do you need legal representation?’ Wendy said.
‘Why? I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘On the contrary. We’ve suspected you for some time. Of all those involved with your husband and his death, you are the only one who has emerged unscathed,’ Isaac said. ‘Helen Langdon died for what she was going to tell. Slater died for what he knew, and two prostitutes died because they could recognise the murderer, yet you have remained comfortably cocooned.’
‘I’ve nothing to feel guilty about. I was married to a man who became involved with unscrupulous people. It cost him his life.’
‘Why did this house remain in your name for all those years, yet it was Helen who looked after the place? Were you party to a conspiracy to conceal the truth? Did you know that your husband was to be killed? And why Archie Adamant?’
‘I’ve told you. He knocked on the door, pushed his way in and threatened me.’
‘Threatened you with what? If you’re innocent, now is the time to tell us the truth. Archie Adamant is under lock and key. He can do nothing to you at this time.’
‘He controls from afar.’
‘He controlled through Slater. Barry Knox was the instrument that killed. Both of them can no longer concern you. It is just the police you need to worry about. If you’re not forthcoming, we will need to take you to Challis Street and charge you with withholding information. Do you want that?’
‘No. I knew my husband had died, not long after his death.’
‘Helen phoned you?’
‘She told me what had happened and that she had managed to convince Gerald Adamant to leave her with the house to look after.’
‘What did you say?’
‘What could I say? My husband had fallen foul of people who solved their problems by murder. I didn’t want to be another statistic. My life was more precious than that.’
‘Your husband?’
‘I was sad, but I knew he lived on the edge. His death did not come as a surprise, and we were divorced by then.’
‘And you remained in his will as his heir.’
‘Ben was a good man, don’t let anyone else tell you differently. We were on speaking terms, and there was no bitterness. He wanted his life, I wanted mine. I stayed in Chelsea, and he signed the house over to me. I preferred this house in the country, but he wanted the parties. We agreed, and I always remained in his will.’
‘After the divorce, did you see him very much?’
‘Rarely, but sometimes we’d meet for a couple of hours.’
‘Why did Archie threaten you when everyone else has died? Were you involved with Archie Adamant’s father?’
‘It was a long time ago. I was divorced, he was on his own.’
‘Were you with him when your husband died?’
‘Yes. When I heard what had happened, I knew it was Gerald. He never discussed what he did, although I knew. He was a charismatic man, as was Ben. I loved them both, but after what had happened, I left Gerald and found myself a boringly honest man.’
‘Do you regret it?’
‘I regret nothing. I don’t regret Ben or Gerald, and I don’t regret marrying a bank manager. Life is what you make of it. Regret for past mistakes and lost opportunities count for nothing.’
‘Are you willing to testify against Archie Adamant?’
‘What for? What do I know?’
‘You know everything,’ Isaac said. ‘You’re playing us for suckers. We’ve heard about the cross in the garden for your first husband. Is that an act of redemption, to appease your guilt over his death? Did you set up the deal with Adamant to ensure the house would stay with you?’
‘No, yes, I don’t know.’ Wendy knew that Isaac was maintaining the pressure, waiting for the woman to falter.
‘Christine Aberman, you’ve been there all along. Gerald Adamant was smart, staying out of sight, acting as a benefactor of the downtrodden, the weak, the impoverished. And there you are, in league with the man. When did you find out about Helen and Holden?’
‘She phoned Knox, Archie told me last night. It was Archie’s idea to remove Helen as a threat; he confided in me.’
‘Why?’
‘His family’s name.’
‘Slater?’
‘That was Archie. You were in his office, and Slater knows what’s going on. The police are close to uncovering the truth. Slater’s made plenty of money from the Adamants over the years, but he’s ready to distance himself, to claim that he was acting on instructions.’
‘But he was at the house when Ben Aberman was killed.’
‘It was becoming too complicated. Archie was planning to make a run for it. I’m staying here, maintaining a low profile.’
‘Why did Archie trust you? Why did Gerald?’
‘They both knew a kindred spirit. Archie, he was fond of me, even when I was with his father. He’s got this problem, but he could talk to me about it. I was a sympathetic ear, and the Adamants, whatever else they may be, are loyal.’
‘You're not loyal to them now?’
‘Archie would have turned against me in time. Maybe not this year, but sometime. I’m stopping it now.’
‘Will you give us a written statement? Will you testify?’
‘Yes. I’ve killed no one, and the houses are still mine.’
‘You won’t be seeing them for a long time,’ Wendy said.
‘A long time, but I will see them one day. That’s all that matters. The future, like the past, holds no fears for me.’
Isaac phoned Larry. ‘We have the whole story. How did you get on with the gun that killed Slater and his receptionist?’
‘We dug up the vegetable patch at Adamant’s house. We found a rifle.’
‘Forensics?’
‘They’re checking now. It’s the right calibre.’
‘How did you know where to look?’
‘Instinct. I just thought where I’d hide it.’
‘Have you spoken to Adamant?’
‘He’s admitted to his guilt.’
Isaac phoned Detective Chief Superintendent Goddard who called Commissioner Alwyn Davies. Davies was delighted, singing the praises of the best detective chief inspector in the London Metropolitan Police. Isaac knew he did no
t mean it.
The End
Murder of a Silent Man
Phillip Strang
Chapter 1
No one gave much credence to the man when he was alive. In fact, most people never knew who he was, although those who had lived in the area for many years recognised the tired-looking and shabbily dressed man as he shuffled along, regular as clockwork on a Thursday at seven in the evening, to the local off-licence. It was always the same: a bottle of whisky, premium brand, and a packet of cigarettes. He paid his money over the counter, took hold of the plastic bag containing his purchases, and then walked back down the road with the same rhythmic shuffle. He said not one word to anyone on the street or in the shop.
Apart from the three-storey mansion where he lived, one of the best residences on one of the best streets in London, with its windows permanently shuttered, no one would have regarded him as anything other than homeless and destitute. Just a harmless eccentric, until the morning when he was found dead in his front garden.
‘Never spoken to him, and that’s the honest truth,’ Jim Porter said. He was a lean man with a pronounced chin, and a strong Cockney accent. ‘I’ve been delivering letters down this street for the last twelve years. Seeing him lying there was the first time I’d ever seen him. Down at the sorting office we called him Ebenezer, no chance of a tip at Christmas, not so much as a thank you. No doubt we shouldn’t have, but he’s lived in that place for over thirty years, and not one word to my predecessor or me. Weird, if you ask me.’
Detective Chief Inspector Isaac Cook looked at the postman. ‘You found the body?’ he said. Tall, the son of Jamaican immigrants, and the first in his family to go to university, the first to join the police force, Isaac Cook was an impressive man, as well as a good police officer. Others had told him so, but he was not a man susceptible to flattery, even if he had to admit there was a modicum of truth.
DCI Isaac Cook Box Set 2 Page 21
