by P. F. Ford
‘But you liked him?’
‘Yes, I liked him. There, I’ve said it now. Are you satisfied?’
‘But if you liked him, how could you let him go to prison for something he didn’t do?’ asked Slater.
‘What are you talking about? I had nothing to do with him going to prison. I wasn’t even at the trial.’
Slater handed her a photocopy of a newspaper cutting. ‘This photograph says you were there for the verdict, along with Amy Pritchard.’
She stared hard at the photograph but said nothing.
‘We were wondering who that man is. The three of you seem to be congratulating each other.’
‘We were probably pleased to see Julie’s killer put behind bars. I’m not even sure who that man is.’
‘No?’ asked Norman. ‘Now that does surprise me.’
She glared at him, her eyes narrowing to slits.
‘I think you’d better take another look.’ Slater tapped the photo. ‘You see, we happen to know there are only four directors and four shareholders in your company. There’s your ex-husband, yourself, Amy Pritchard, and this man is number four. We also know your company holds a board meeting on the first Friday of every month.’
‘We know the board doesn’t actually run the company. James makes all the decisions, isn’t that right?’ said Norman.
‘We’re also pretty confident none of you would dare miss a meeting,’ added Slater. ‘We think you do know that man. If you need a reminder, I can tell you that his name is Joe Linden.’
‘I have no idea where you’re going with this,’ she said. ‘But I think you should leave. Now.’
Slater ignored her and handed her a sheet of paper. She took it and stared at it.
‘That’s a bank statement belonging to a man named Rhodri Evans. He wasn’t a very nice man, but that’s neither here nor there as he’s now dead. Take a look at the tenth of the month. You’ll see a payment coming into his account for three thousand pounds.’
She looked up, puzzled. ‘What’s this got to do with me?’
‘We think you’re paying him every month.’
‘What?’ she shrieked. She looked back down at the statement. ‘This money definitely isn’t coming from my bank account.’
It was another bluff, but Slater was confident they had it worked out and that she would crack.
‘But I don’t, I mean I haven’t, never ...’ She got to her feet and went across to a small writing bureau, returning with a bank statement of her own which she threw in Slater’s face.
‘There. That’s the only bank account I have. Take the statement with you if you must. You can see my money comes in every month from Pritchard and Harkness, and you will see all my expenses. I may be a little extravagant, but I’ve got nothing to hide. Anyway, why would I be paying this man every month?’
‘He was blackmailing you.’
‘Why would he blackmail me?’
‘Because you paid him a hundred grand to kill Julie Harris and then stand up in court and say he’d seen Steve Harris’s car on the caravan site the day Julie died.’
Sandra had gone a strange shade of white, and her mouth hung open in shock. ‘But that’s just not true. I have never paid anyone anything. That’s Joe Lind—’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Norman. ‘I didn’t quite catch that. Did you say, “that’s Joe Linden’s job?” Only that’s what we figured.’
‘I said no such thing. Don’t try to put words into my mouth.’
‘Okay, let me rephrase that … we think someone paid Rhodri Evans a hundred thousand pounds and thought that was the last they would see of him, but he got greedy and demanded the money kept coming every month or he would go to the police.’
Sandra started shaking her head, but then she seemed to calm down and get hold of herself. She crossed her arms and struck a defiant pose. ‘I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, but this whole conspiracy with Joe Linden idea is absurd. And in any case, I didn’t want Julie dead. I wanted her to have an affair with that bastard husband of mine, so I could divorce him!’
‘But what about the payments?’ said Slater.
‘You’re not listening to me. I already told you this money is nothing to do with me, and I know nothing about it.’
‘Then who is behind it?’
‘You’re the detective. Why don’t you tell me?’
Slater couldn’t think of an answer to that. He had been confident Sandra would drop her guard and they would catch her out, but she had seen through his bluff. He looked at Norman helplessly. He was beginning to realise just how powerless they were. If they had still been police officers, they could have taken Sandra Harkness in for questioning and accessed the company bank accounts, and that was just for starters, but without those powers, there was a limit to what they could do.
Sandra smiled like someone who knew they had the upper hand. ‘Now, you’re not the police so you can’t arrest me, and I’m quite sure you can’t compel me to answer any more of your questions. Am I right?’
‘Yes, I guess so,’ said Norman.
‘In that case, we all know where we stand, don’t we?’
‘What can you tell us about Joe Linden?’
‘You are unbelievable, do you know that? Five minutes ago, you were sure I was guilty of bribing someone to kill Julie Harris, and now you know you’ve got it wrong you want me to solve your case for you? You must be joking.’
‘Look, I’m sorry if we offended you, but there’s an innocent man in prison, a murderer has been free for ten years, and witnesses seem to be dropping like flies. I was hoping you might be prepared to help. I guess I was wrong.’
‘Have you finished?’ she snapped.
Slater and Norman stood before her like two naughty schoolboys in front of their headmaster. Slater couldn’t recall ever feeling so humiliated. He had been so sure she would be the weak link.
Sandra was enjoying her triumph and let them squirm for a few moments before she spoke. ‘If you’re looking for a murder to solve, I often wonder if poor John really committed suicide.’
‘Why do you say that?’ asked Slater.
‘You don’t know, then?’
‘Know what?’
‘About Amy Pritchard and my ex-husband.’
‘She’s hardly his type, is she? I thought you said he’s a groper? I can’t imagine Amy Pritchard putting up with that sort of behaviour.’
‘Good God, they don’t have that sort of relationship. Mind you, if they did, I’m sure he wouldn’t be like that with her. She seems to be able to control him, somehow. Maybe it’s because she’s older, I really don’t know. But I can tell you they’re as thick as thieves, believe me.’
Slater looked at Norman, but Norman’s face told him he was equally confused by this revelation. ‘Are you saying you think your ex-husband could have murdered John Pritchard, and Amy knew?’
‘Let me tell you, that man is a monster. He’s capable of anything. And don’t be fooled by Amy and her “sweet as sugar” routine. That woman is as devious as they come. I wouldn’t put anything past her.’
‘Have you any proof?’ asked Slater.
Sandra’s nostrils flared, and her face reddened. ‘I don’t know how you have the gall to ask that after what you’ve just done!’
‘Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—’
‘Right. Good. I hope you really are sorry. Now get out! You know where the door is.’
She turned her back on them, and they quickly took the hint.
* * *
‘Wow, she is one formidable lady,’ said Norman, as they climbed into their car. ‘Talk about fireworks. I thought she was going to explode.’
‘Yeah, we certainly lit her fuse, didn’t we?’ said Slater. ‘But as for her being the weak link, I got that totally wrong. She didn’t give us anything concrete, did she? I think it would be fair to say that whole scenario didn’t quite go as planned.’
‘Is that what they call an understatement?’ Nor
man put the car into gear and pulled away.
‘Okay, so I made a complete balls-up.’
‘Yeah, well, no one’s perfect. I probably wouldn’t have done any better. I thought we had it all worked out too. Anyway, we might have got the details wrong, but we’re close, I’m sure of it. Joe Linden paid Rhodri Evans to do something, and it was a much bigger deal than telling a lie. If it wasn’t to commit a murder, then it was to keep quiet about who did.’
Norman thought for a moment.
‘I don’t think Rhodri committed murder,’ he said. ‘He couldn’t very well threaten to go to the police if he was a murderer.’
‘You’re right, but that must mean he knew who the murderer was.’
‘So now we’ve found the cover-up, it pretty much narrows the field of suspects, don’t you think?’
‘I reckon so,’ said Slater.
‘What did you think about that James Harkness and Amy Pritchard thing that Sandra dropped into the conversation?’
Slater sighed. ‘Pure bullshit. I could almost hear her brain whirring away as she tried to come up with some cock and bull story to throw us off the scent.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I thought,’ said Norman. ‘I’d love it to be true, but Amy and Harkness? Seriously?’
They’d been driving for a couple of minutes before Norman spoke again.
‘What do you think Amy would say if we told her we thought she and James Harkness were an item?’
Slater took his eyes off the road to give Norman a quick glance. ‘What?’
‘Well, we just rattled Sandra’s cage and got nowhere, but she knows we’re on the scent, and I’m sure she’s going to sound the alarm bells now, right? So why don’t we see if we can get to Amy before Sandra does? And, assuming we can get there quick enough, why don’t we tell her what Sandra has just suggested?’
He glanced at Slater, who was wearing a broad grin.
‘You like that idea, right?’ asked Norman.
Slater’s grin was even wider.
‘Your head will split in half if that grin gets any wider,’ Norman observed.
‘Yeah, whatever. Let’s go and see Amy.’
Chapter 33
Sandra’s story about Amy Pritchard and James Harkness being as ‘thick as thieves’ was so unlikely in so many ways that Slater and Norman didn’t think it could possibly be true. Nonetheless, they had decided to come right out and ask her. If they were wrong and it was true, she would be horrified they knew, and if they were right, she would be horrified they should even think such a thing. Either way, they expected a reaction, and they weren’t disappointed.
‘Where on earth did you hear such a thing?’ she shrieked. ‘I can’t believe anyone would even suggest it. James Harkness, and me? The man’s an animal. I avoid contact with him at all costs.’
‘But you do see him once a month at the board meetings,’ Norman pointed out. ‘Surely you can’t avoid him there.’
‘One has to do one’s duty.’
‘I understand there are four directors,’ said Slater. ‘We know about James, Sandra, and you, but who is the fourth?’
She studied his face for a few moments. ‘I think you know very well who he is. His name is Joseph Linden. He’s the company solicitor.’
‘We’ve not met him yet,’ said Slater. ‘Is he a nice man?’
‘If you must know, he’s just like the others, and I despise all of them,’ she said shortly.
‘And why is that?’
‘James Harkness is an animal, that scheming ex-wife of his is nothing but a cheap tart, and that so-called solicitor is one of the slimiest characters you could meet.’
‘But you tolerate them because you like the money, right?’
‘I inherited those shares when my husband died. I have every right to benefit from them.’
Slater bowed his head slightly to acknowledge the truth in that fact. ‘I’m curious about this board of directors,’ he said. ‘As I understand it, you make no business decisions, so why do you meet every month? Is there some other reason, some secret you all share, perhaps?
Amy shook her head. ‘For all his faults, James Harkness is the driving force behind the company. Apart from having the happy knack of always making the correct business decisions, he also knows how to grease the wheels. He attracts clients like pins to a magnet. I might hate him, but where this company is concerned, the directors are not foolish enough to think anyone could do a better job.’
‘So, he’s the Golden Goose,’ suggested Slater.
‘Yes, you could put it like that.’
‘Can we go back to the weekend Julie Harris died?’ asked Norman.
She rolled her eyes and let out a heavily exaggerated sigh. ‘Really? Again? This was all dealt with ten years ago.’
‘I’m sorry if you find this tiresome, Mrs Pritchard, but we don’t believe Steve Harris killed his wife. He’s had ten years of his life taken away for something he didn’t do.’
‘He was found guilty in a court of law,’ she argued.
‘He was convicted on the evidence of a man called Rhodri Evans,’ said Slater.
At the mention of Rhodri Evans, Amy Pritchard’s head jerked ever so slightly.
‘You know the name?’ asked Norman.
‘I don’t believe I do.’
‘Oh, I think you do,’ said Norman. ‘You would have heard it at Steve Harris’s trial.’
‘I wasn’t at the trial.’
Slater handed her a copy of the news story and photograph. ‘Looks like you have a double. Maybe Sandra Harkness and Joe Linden have doubles too.’
They waited while she stared at the photograph.
‘That is you, isn’t it, Mrs Harkness? You and two of the three people you so despise?’ asked Slater. ‘It looks to me like you three were pretty happy at the verdict. I wonder why that was.’
‘We were probably pleased the right man got put away for killing poor Julie,’ she said.
Slater looked at Norman. ‘Well, there you go,’ he said. ‘That’s exactly what Sandra Harkness said.’
‘There you are, then,’ said Amy. ‘If Sandra says it too, it must be right. Like I said, we were happy the right man was found guilty.’
‘Now that’s strange,’ said Norman, ‘because we thought you looked happy that the wrong man was found guilty.’
‘But that man saw his car on the caravan site.’
‘No, Mrs Pritchard,’ said Slater. ‘Rhodri Evans didn’t see Steve’s car on the caravan site, he said he saw it. I think you’ll agree that’s not quite the same thing, is it?’
‘But why would he say it if he didn’t see it?’
‘You’re really going to do this, are you?’ asked Slater.
‘Do what?’
‘Pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.’
She was desperately trying to look innocent but failing miserably.
Slater sighed. ‘Alright, I’ll play your little game. The reason Rhodri said he saw Steve’s car was because he was paid a very large sum of money to say it. The reality is he didn’t see Steve’s car at all, but he did see something else.’
‘I don’t understand what you’re talking about.’
‘I think you do, but just to make it a little easier for you, I’ll let you into a secret: we know Joe Linden was paying Rhodri Evans to keep quiet.’
‘I know nothing about that.’
‘I’m sorry, Amy, but we think you do know all about it,’ said Slater. ‘And we think you know exactly who killed Julie Harris. Why don’t you stop playing games and tell us? We’re going to find out anyway, so why don’t you save us some time?’
She shook her head, slowly and wearily, but still she said nothing.
‘Come on, Amy! The poor guy hasn’t just served ten years, he lost a wife he loved as well. Don’t you think that’s enough punishment for an innocent man? What did he ever do to you?’
She bowed her head as tears began to roll down her cheeks. ‘I have no idea what yo
u’re talking about. I don’t know anything about any payments to anyone. Please, will you go away and leave me alone. Or shall I call the police?’
Slater looked at a very uncomfortable Norman.
‘She’s had enough, Dave, I think we should go,’ said Norman.
Slater couldn’t quite believe they had nothing to show for all his questions, but he knew they were wasting their time. He turned on his heel and marched out.
* * *
‘That got pretty uncomfortable in there,’ said Norman, as they drove away. ‘I wish I hadn’t suggested it now.’
‘Don’t let that sweet old lady thing fool you, Norm,’ said Slater. ‘They’re both hiding the truth, and they’re so bloody good at it because they’ve had so long to practice. I bet those monthly board meetings are called so they can run through their stories again and again.’
‘I wish I was as sure as you are.’
‘I’m right, Norm, I know I’m right. I just have to find a way of proving it.’
Chapter 34
It was Friday evening, and Slater’s phone was ringing. He knew it was somewhere close by, but it took him a few seconds to realise it was in his jacket pocket. As he fished out the phone, a folded sheet of paper dropped out with it.
‘It’s Robbins. I spoke to your friend DI Williams again today. He accepted your apology.’
‘I should think so, too. We helped him out, and gave him a lead,’ said Slater. ‘He wouldn’t have had a clue where to start otherwise.’
‘Would that be the caravan site owner who happens to have a cast iron alibi?’
Slater cursed quietly. ‘Yeah, well, he would have, wouldn’t he? I expect he paid someone else to do the dirty work.’
‘Actually, DI Williams doesn’t think your friend Ivor had anything to do with it. The dead man had a huge drug habit and owed an equally massive debt to his drug dealer. They found fingerprints belonging to a well-known drug dealer, and he’s now in custody, answering questions, as we speak.’
‘You’re joking.’
‘I kid you not,’ said Robbins.
