Written To Death (Alex Warren Murder Mysteries Book 3)

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Written To Death (Alex Warren Murder Mysteries Book 3) Page 6

by Zach Abrams


  “I'm sorry, but I have no idea of the name. Sheila seemed to know her quite well though. Let me think, she was quite tall and slim. Blonde hair, it was shoulder length, and she had freckles, lots of freckles.”

  “You said you were friends with both Sheila and Graeme. How did they get along?” Alex asked.

  “How do you mean?”

  “Obviously, they were a married couple, but were they close? Did they seem to get along well or were they prone to argue? You know the sort of thing,” Alex pursued.

  “They got along fine. They helped each other a lot and I never heard a cross word between them. Mind you, there were times when there was an atmosphere. I'm not sure how best to describe it, but there were uncomfortable silences.”

  “You mean like they'd been arguing, but didn't talk about it?” Sanjay asked.

  “I really shouldn't have said anything,” Bert replied.

  “No, you really should. We need you to tell us everything you know or even think you know, no matter how trivial. We can be the judge of what's important,” Alex continued. “Now is there anything else you can think of? Anyone you may be aware of, who had a grudge against Sheila?”

  “Nobody comes to mind.”

  “Well, that's all for now.” Sanjay advised. “We may wish to talk to you again though.”

  “That's it?” Bert asked, his face showing clear surprise.

  “For now, it is,” Alex confirmed.

  Chapter 7

  As the automatic door slid silently open, a cold, damp gust of wind greeted Alex and Sanjay. Almost as a reflex reaction, they both pulled up their collars to offer some protection from the elements while they made their way out of the hospital, darting between the fast moving vehicles on Battlefield Road and towards their car.

  “I'm not used to this. It was in the mid-twenties where I was last week, not to mention bright and sunny,” Alex muttered.

  “You're back in Glasgow now, though. There's not a lot of point dwelling on it or you'll just get depressed.”

  “Too bloody true. I'll keep my mind on the job then maybe it won't seem as bad.”

  “Shall we see if Graeme Armstrong's about?” Sanjay suggested as he lifted his mobile to call ahead. At that same moment, Alex's ringtone sounded, indicating a call from Sandra.

  “Hello, luv. Are you still at the court?” Alex said, letting Sanjay walk ahead to the car to allow himself some privacy for his call.

  “Yeah, that's why I'm calling. I'll be here for some time; there's been another incident.”

  “What, while you were there?”

  “Yes, I'm afraid so. We were in the cash office at the time and didn't see anything. It happened only a few yards away, in front of the main entrance. It's a bad one. GBH at least, more probably attempted murder,” Sandra advised.

  “Christ! Whatever next? What happened, was it a gang fall out?”

  “A hit, more like. The victim was a lawyer, Fergus Hardy. I've come up against him before.”

  “Really, now that is interesting. As you're probably already aware, he handles a lot of dodgy characters; there's suspected mob connections. He's frequently in the high court so he must have been slumming it a bit. Have you any clues on the motive yet?”

  “Early days, but we've a few theories already. It happened outside the front entrance. He was standing talking to one of his colleagues, near the door, but where they were under-cover so they could have a smoke. You know where I mean, the place that all the smokers use, next to the no smoking signs. Apparently, someone asked him for a private word and, as he walked away, four youngsters grabbed him and chucked him over the wall into the car park.”

  “You mean the bit to the right of the entrance where there's a warning not to climb? It's about four or five feet high but has a drop of twenty feet on the other side.”

  “The very same and the warning says twenty-six feet to be more precise. Fergus found out for himself, the hard way, literally.”

  “How bad is he?”

  “I don't know for sure. His fall was broken as he landed on one of the police vehicles used for ferrying prisoners. It didn't do the van any good but probably saved his life. Even at that, there are certainly broken bones, compound fractures in fact. There might be internal injuries too. He was conscious and screaming the place down. An ambulance has taken him to the Southern. We should hear soon.”

  “Witnesses?”

  “Yeah, no shortage, but even so, not a lot to go on. Four young slim tykes wearing hoodies. Two were tall, one medium and a small one. They made off before anyone realised what had actually happened,” Sandra advised.

  “What about the guy who called him over. Can he be identified?” Alex enquired.

  “We may have more luck there. He made off too, but we have a description and it sounds like our old pal, Pat Carson. We're trying to track him down.”

  “What else have you got?” Alex persisted.

  “Hey, this is my case. I only phoned to tell you that I'm going to be tied up on it and not likely to be home until late,” Sandra replied before adding, “We won't starve, there's some food in the fridge as we hardly touched what I bought yesterday. It's not very exciting though.”

  “I'm sorry about the interrogation; force of habit,” Alex continued. “You should be used to me by now; tell me about an investigation and I want to run it.”

  “And how is yours getting along?” Sandra enquired.

  “Slow but steady. I'm with Sanjay and we've just stepped out from the Vicky. We were seeing Bert Singer.”

  “Did he have anything interesting to tell you?”

  “Only what we expected. He seems pretty cut up about it all, although maybe not as much as Fergus Hardy from what you've told me,” he added with a chuckle. “I reckon Bert was besotted with the victim and he's having trouble handling the guilt. I'm hoping to go and speak to the husband now.”

  “What, to see how besotted he was?” Sandra asked.

  “That might be an interesting approach, we'll see. Listen, I'd better get going. It's blowing a gale here and this place is really exposed. Wait a minute. While I think about it – you said Hardy was standing, talking outside the Court building. Does that not strike you as strange in this weather?”

  “Not really, as I said, they'd gone out for a smoke. It's not permitted inside the building and the roof has an overhang at the front which affords some protection from the rain. It's a favourite spot for smokers. There are bins there, but the ground's covered in stubs. We could collect a fortune if we positioned an officer there to hand out littering fines. Anyway, this all took place more than an hour ago, and from recollection, it was brighter at the time. But you're right, the wind fairly howls up from the river.”

  “I guess it's another justification of why smoking's bad for your health,” Alex offered. “Anyhow, I'd better go now. Sanjay's waiting and I'm sure you've lots to do as well. See you later.”

  The engine was already running when Alex pulled his door open. “Sandra's got her work cut out at the Court which means I'm free to work late. What's the word on Graeme Armstrong?”

  “He's home; we can head straight there. It's not far from here. But what's all this with Sandra? Don't tell me she's got you under the thumb already if you need to check with her before working late.”

  Alex's face flushed with embarrassment, realising the inference of what he'd said. Although Sanjay's comment had been made as a quip and was well intentioned humour, Alex laboured over an answer, not wanting to give credibility to the comment, but neither did he want to downplay Sandra's significance in his life. Particularly so, after the news of her pregnancy. In the end, he opted to say nothing, but there followed an uncomfortable silence in the car.

  “Do you know where you're going?” Alex asked unnecessarily, for lack of anything better to say.

  “Sure thing, Boss. I've logged the address in the satnav but I'm fairly certain of how to get there. It's not far beyond Orchard Park.”

  “Did it occur to y
ou to check if he's alone?” No sooner had he said it than Alex regretted his words. Sanjay was a good detective and would have made appropriate preparations. To ask basic questions the way he had was insulting. He was angry with himself; he knew he shouldn't be releasing his frustration by being nippy with his staff.

  “Sorry,” he quickly added, before Sanjay replied. “Is anyone there with him?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Sanjay answered, showing no indication of annoyance. “His brother, Calum, insisted on staying with him last night to give him support and company. He's still there.”

  “Do we have any info on the brother?”

  “Not much. We ran routine checks to find out about family. Graeme has one older sister who lives in Australia and Calum is his only brother. He's a couple of years younger. Sheila had no siblings. Her parents were divorced and both remarried. The father died a number of years back but the mother and step-father are still around. They live down the coast, somewhere in Ayrshire. Graeme's brother lives in Edinburgh, works in Holyrood. The first we knew he was on the scene was when I called a few minutes ago,” Sanjay advised.

  “Holyrood, what does he do there? I hope we're not going to suffer any political interference?” Alex sounded concerned.

  “Relax, Boss. I doubt that there's much risk. He'd not an MSP or even an aide. His work is something to do with building maintenance,” Sanjay reassured.

  “Even so, be careful. You don't know who his friends might be.”

  No more than fifteen minutes later, Sanjay drove down a broad avenue of detached bungalows and drew up outside the Armstrong house. They crunched their way along a red whinstone pathway bordered by brightly coloured, flowering shrubs.

  Before they had time to ring the bell, the front door was pulled open and they were greeted by a grim-faced, rotund man.

  “You must be Sergeant Guptar, we spoke on the phone. I'm Calum Armstrong,” he said, reluctantly offering his hand for the briefest of engagements.

  “And this is DCI Warren,” Sanjay replied, pointing to Alex.

  Calum took slightly longer on this greeting, as if in appraisal, but declined any eye contact.

  “Come in, have a seat in the lounge,” Calum closed the door and led the way into a freshly decorated, bright room, illuminated by a watery sun flooding through a three-windowed bay.

  Calum lowered himself into an armchair while gesturing for the officers to do likewise on the sofa.

  They remained standing. “We've come to speak to your brother, Graeme,” Sanjay said.

  “I reckon I'll be able to tell you anything you need to know and save Graeme any unnecessary suffering,” Calum claimed.

  “If you have information to give us, then we'd be very pleased to hear it; however, we need to speak to your brother and we can only take his statement from him directly,” Alex replied.

  Calum looked at Sanjay, vainly seeking support. His imploring look was met by a blank stare.

  Resignedly, he stood again, “I'll bring Graeme through, but I warn you, I won't tolerate you giving him a hard time. He's already had more than enough to cope with.”

  Believing discretion to be the better part of valour, Alex remained silent but nodded to Sanjay, indicating for them to sit.

  A few moments later, the door opened and Calum returned, followed by his brother. There was a distinct family resemblance but Graeme looked a good twenty kilos lighter. He was a far taller and thinner version with handsome, well defined features, where Calum's were blubbery and blotchy. Despite his gaunt complexion and the dark rings around his eyes, on first impression, it was difficult to accept Graeme was the elder. Alex cruelly considered he must have used the opportunity to select the best genes from the family pool with Calum picking up the left-overs. Graeme shuffled slowly into the room.

  Alex and Sanjay stood for the introductions before they all resumed their seats.

  “To start off, can I say we are sorry for your loss and reassure you that we will do everything in our powers to catch whoever was responsible,” Alex stated.

  Graeme nodded, but didn't comment.

  “I'm aware you already spoke to some of my colleagues yesterday and I have the notes on what was said, but I'd like to go over it all again, to make sure we have everything correct. There may be other things you've remembered or that didn't occur to you as being important yesterday, when it was so soon after the incident,” Alex commenced.

  “Now just wait a minute,” Calum interrupted. “This isn't right. You shouldn't be harassing my brother and especially not now when he's upset. He already told you what he knows. Unless you've got something new to ask, then you need to stop now. Besides anything else, he's entitled to have a solicitor present. I'll have you know my partner's a clerk in the justice department at the Parliament, so we won't be messed about.”

  Alex looked fiercely at Calum. “Mr Armstrong, I don't give a monkey's fart where your partner works. For all I care she, or he, can be the Lord Chief Justice. I'm carrying out a murder investigation and I need to collect all relevant information as quickly as possible. For that, I need to interview your brother and I need to do it without your interference. You must either keep quiet or I'll be forced to make you leave the room. You are correct that your brother is entitled to have a solicitor present when he's being interviewed, but I hardly imagine that's necessary, particularly if he has nothing to hide. However, if that's what 'he' wants, we can adjourn this meeting and resume it at our offices. Of course, he'd be more comfortable here. It doesn't bother us if he does have his lawyer. A trained solicitor understands the process and knows how to conduct himself to allow us to get the information we need. Well, what's it to be?” Alex's words were spoken slowly and quietly in a controlled fashion, but the dispassionate delivery combined with his aggressive body language were all the more intimidating. It was a technique he'd mastered over the years and invariably it worked well.

  Calum started to stand. His eyes bulged and his face flared bright scarlet. He tried to speak, but words seemed to catch in his throat. Graeme placed a restraining hand on his arm and drew him back into his chair.

  “It's alright, Calum, I need to do this sometime. I'm as well to get it out of the way. I'm sorry, Officer, but Calum's only trying to look after my best interests. Now if this is going to take some time, would you like some tea?”

  Calum looked between his brother and the detectives, unable to hide his resentment, then he slowly edged backwards into his chair.

  “That's most kind of you to offer, but we're fine.”

  “What would you like me to tell you?”

  “Let's start with the knives. We understood that you made the purchase on behalf of the Club,” Alex said.

  “Yes, I did. I bought them from a company called 'Top Hat,' over the internet. They're a magic and theatrical supply company in Las Vegas. I understand that they have an English associate, because they were delivered by Royal Mail and it had UK stamps on the package. I remember remarking on it to Sheila.”

  “You wouldn't still have the packaging?” Sanjay asked.

  “I don't think so,” Graeme replied. “It arrived about three weeks ago, and we recycle all paper and packaging. The Council pick it up every second week on a Monday. I reckon it must be gone by now. I may have the stamps though, as we collect them in a bag to give them to charity. It was a heavy box, so the postage would have been quite expensive. The stamps would be together on a section of the cover so shouldn't be too difficult to locate.”

  “We don't need it at this moment. Did you keep the order form?” Sanjay asked.

  “I'll have it on the computer. As I said, I ordered on the net, which means I'll have email confirmation of the order and the payment, as it was electronic. I remember I printed the invoice too, so I could get reimbursed by the Club. I gave it to Lionel, he's the Treasurer. He's bound to have a copy, even if I can't find it.”

  “Thank you. That's most helpful. Can I ask you to try looking out the papers and the stamps after we finish spe
aking?” Alex asked.

  “What do you want them for?” Calum interjected.

  “Isn't it obvious?” Graeme snapped, irritated by his brother. “They want to know that I only bought two and not three knives and they want to find out where they came from so they can check who else bought the same thing. Am I not right?” he asked looking to Alex for confirmation.”

  “Absolutely. You should have been a detective, yourself,” Alex quipped.

  Calum scowled and looked away.

  “Was it the first time you'd purchased anything from this company?” Sanjay asked.

  Graeme paused for a few moments, contemplating. “Yes, I'm fairly certain. I've used many different suppliers over the years, not only for the writers, but also for my theatre group. But I can't remember using Top Hat before. I have bought from other companies in Las Vegas, but I can't be certain that they aren't connected.”

  “How did you find them?” Sanjay continued.

  “I remember looking them up on Google, but I have a vague recollection that someone recommended them to me.”

  “Please try to remember,” Alex asked. “It could be important. If you can try to remember who and how long ago it was.”

  Graeme closed his eyes for a few seconds, trying to recollect. “No, I'm sorry, nothing. I don't think it was recent. Maybe it'll come back later. I'll get back to you if it does.”

  “How long ago did Sheila write her story?” Alex asked.

  “It was a short play, not a story,” Graeme retorted. “She knew about the competition since the middle of last year and started writing for it straight away. She must have finished maybe two or three months ago.”

  “And had many people read it, or at least been told about the plot?” Alex continued.

  “Everyone at the Group,” Graeme replied. “They had to, so it could be cast and then acted out. Oh, I see what you're getting at. For someone to plan the murder in this way then they must have been aware of the theme of the play and they'd have had to know that before designing the plan with the knives.”

  “Keep going at this rate and you'll be doing my job soon,” Alex joked.

 

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