by M A Comley
“Not that often. He used to visit up until recently. That’s when I noticed a frosty atmosphere between him and Gemma.”
“When did you notice this chill develop exactly?”
Heather contemplated her answer for a few seconds as she lit up another cigarette and swept the back of her hand across her cheeks, wiping away fresh tears. She exhaled a large puff of smoke then said, “Well, we all—the family, that is—turned up for a barbecue back in August. Gemma was in the kitchen, preparing the coleslaw. I walked in to get the cutlery and found them deep in conversation. He had his hand on her arm, gripping it, and his face was close to hers. She seemed scared of him. Neither of them appeared to notice my arrival, and I coughed to get their attention. He let go of her arm swiftly and left the room. I asked Gemma what was going on. Her cheeks coloured up, and she told me everything was all right and that I should forget about it.”
“Interesting. Did she ever confide in you what the incident was concerning?”
“No. I tried several times to raise the subject, but she refused to tell me what it was about. I hate secrets, Inspector. My advice would be to dig very deep there, too.”
“I intend to, I assure you. Is there anything else you think we should know about regarding the family, Heather?”
Her eyes widened. “I think that’s enough for you to be going on with. Isn’t it, Inspector?”
Sally and Jack stood and followed Heather into the hallway. At the front door, Sally replied, “Yes, you’ve been very kind talking to us today, considering the sad news I’ve given you.”
“When can I see her?”
Sally placed her hand on the woman’s forearm. “I’ll have a word with the pathologist to see if we can arrange that soon. Take care, Heather. We’ll do everything we can to bring your daughter’s murderer to justice. You have my word on that.”
She sniffed and wiped away another tear. “Thank you, Inspector. Please keep me informed.”
“We will. I’d suggest you have little or no contact with Mark or his family in the meantime. I know that’s going to be difficult, and you’ll need to restrain yourself after the information you’ve divulged today, but please, let us handle them.”
Heather nodded and closed the front door behind them.
“Oh, what tangled webs,” Jack said once they were back in the car.
“Yes, indeed. Strange that Gemma didn’t tell her mother about having her father in a stranglehold, eh?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. It’s all very strange.”
“I don’t need to look into my crystal ball to know that we’re about to untangle a lot of secrets; maybe secrets that some of these folks would rather have gone to the grave with the victim. Let’s see what Raymond Lord has to say for himself, shall we?”
CHAPTER FOUR
While Sally drove the twenty-odd miles to the address Heather had given them for Raymond Lord, Jack rang Joanna to see what she had garnered from the background checks.
“Thanks, Joanna. We’ll be back after we’ve visited Gemma’s father.” Jack hung up and tapped his notebook.
“What did she find out?” Sally asked, turning into Forster Road, where Lord’s flat was situated.
“He’s been in trouble with us over the years.”
“Has he now? Come on, Jack, out with it.”
“Mostly petty crimes. A few shoplifting charges, nothing major. But there is an assault charge in there, too.”
“On whom?”
“A teenager—he was in his teens as well.”
“You say that as though that’s an acceptable excuse for his actions, partner.”
Jack shrugged as she parked the car outside a rundown house, which had a sheet of plywood covering the downstairs window. “Kids will be kids, I suppose is what I’m saying. I certainly wouldn’t condone what he did. I met my fair share of smart mouths in the army. We soon knocked the ‘Big I am’ attitude out of them, I can tell you. Oops, I shouldn’t have told you that.”
Sally sniggered. “I always thought you were a bit of a thug.”
Jack opened his mouth to object, and Sally punched him in the leg. “Come on; we’ll leave this discussion for another time. Let’s see what we make of Raymond Lord for now.”
“By the looks of this place, maybe we should go in there wearing rubber gloves,” Jack grumbled as they walked up the cracked concrete path, dodging the stinging nettles off to their left that dominated the front garden.
“I take it Lord lacks any gardening talent. A bit like you in that respect,” Sally teased.
“Cheeky mare. I’ll have you know I have many talents in that department, although they do tend to focus on the massive gas barbecue we treated ourselves to at the end of last year.”
“That figures. Right, straight faces now.” Sally rang the doorbell, wiped her hand on her black suit trousers, and pulled a disgusted face at her partner.
The door was eventually opened by a tall, skinny man in his late fifties or early sixties. He squinted against the daylight. “Yeah?”
“Mr. Lord?”
“That’s right, and you are?” The door closed a little as if he intended to slam it in their faces if he didn’t care for their response.
Sally and Jack showed the man their IDs while Jack snuck his foot into the gap just in case. “DI Sally Parker and DS Jack Blackman of the Norfolk Constabulary. Is it possible for us to speak to you privately for a moment, sir?” Sally asked.
“About what?” he asked menacingly, inching the door their way again.
“Concerning your daughter, Gemma.”
The door opened again, and the man stood back to let them in. “The place is a tip.”
“That’s okay. We’re not here to judge your domestic skills.”
“Good job, ’cause I haven’t got any. This way.”
He showed them upstairs to a second-floor flat that looked as though it hadn’t been touched by either a duster or vacuum in months. Sally’s nostrils flared as they filled with the smell emanating from the pile of takeaway cartons in the corner of the room and a more recent one, floating with grease, sitting on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
“Take a seat, if you want to risk it.”
“We’ll stand if it’s all the same to you.”
Lord shrugged and flopped into the sofa. A cloud of dust burst from the cushions and surrounded him like a mist. He coughed and waved the dust away from his face.
Shit! The quicker we get out of this shithole, the better.
“So, what’s my darling daughter been up to then? She’s not the type to get in trouble with you lot.”
Sally exhaled a large breath. “It is with regret that I have to tell you that your daughter died in the early hours of this morning.”
Lord bolted upright on the sofa. “What? Is this some kind of joke?”
“No. I’m very serious about this, Mr. Lord. I also have to tell you that your daughter’s death is being treated as a murder enquiry.”
He reached for a can of lager sitting on the table and downed the contents before he spoke. “Who did it?”
“It’s our intention to find that out, Mr. Lord. Do you have any suggestions?”
“What the fuck? Why would I have a clue about that?”
He stared long and hard at Sally, and she responded with a challenging stare of her own. “Maybe you have an inclination. When was the last time you saw your daughter?”
“I don’t know.”
Sally noted that he was avoiding eye contact with her after his initial glaring session. “Try to think. It could be vital to the investigation, Mr. Lord.”
He looked up. “Why? What are you insinuating? That I killed her? You are, aren’t you?” He ran an agitated hand through his thinning, steel-grey hair.
“No. We’ll be questioning all family members and friends alike. It’s what we do during an investigation. Now please, answer the question.”
“I honestly can’t remember. I suppose it was around four to five
months ago.”
“And you’ve not had any contact since? Via the phone, I mean.”
“No.”
“Can I ask why not?” Sally wanted to see if he would admit the real reason he’d fallen out with his daughter.
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” he replied sarcastically.
“It must do when you have a full-time job. What do you do for a living, Mr. Lord?”
His jaw moved from side to side as though her question made him grind his teeth for some reason.
“Why the hesitation, Mr. Lord?” Jack prompted. “Tell the inspector.”
“Nothing. I’ve tried to find a job, but no one will employ me.”
“So you spend your days here?” Sally asked.
“Yeah, is that a crime?” he bit back.
“No, of course not. In that case, you really don’t have an excuse why this place shouldn’t be kept tidy, do you?” Sally asked, surveying the filthy lounge.
“Fuck off! That’s a woman’s job, not a man’s.”
Jack took a step forward and bent down to look the offensive man in the eye. “Show the inspector some respect, all right?”
“Whatever. Tell her to stop issuing dumb statements then.”
Jack stepped back to stand beside Sally. “I apologise. I shouldn’t have questioned your abilities in that department. Are you married, Mr. Lord?”
“There you go again, asking dumb questions. Do you think this place would look like this if I was married?”
“I doubt it. We were informed that you had remarried.”
He opened another can of lager and took a long swig. “I bet I know who told you that, too. That bitch of an ex-wife of mine. Am I right?”
“We have had a conversation with your ex-wife this morning. However, it was your son-in-law who told us about an incident which occurred the last time you visited his home.”
His chin hit his chest. “I regretted that as soon as it happened. I should never have hit the child.”
“Then why did you?”
“I snapped. Gemma didn’t leave me much option to say no to baby-sitting the child. Children and their care ain’t a forte of mine. When I came home to tell Gina, the wife, she went ballistic. We rowed for days. In the end, I told her to fuck off out of my life. I never thought she would take me up on the bloody suggestion. Now, every time I try to contact her, she hangs up. Look at this place—she should be here, clearing up after me. It’s her job.”
“Really? You make the mess and expect other people to go out of their way to clear up after you?”
“Oh, fuck off, bitch. Get off your high horse and cut the crap about women having rights. A woman’s place is in the home, looking after her man.”
Sally felt the colour rise in her cheeks. She could see the man had an arrogant streak running through him not dissimilar to her ex-husband’s. She was glad to see that Gina Lord had the sense to stand up to the pitiful excuse for a human being before he’d caused her irreparable damage. “You keep telling yourself that, Mr. Lord. While you’re doing that, look around you at your home and ask yourself if it degenerated into resembling a pigsty before or after your wife left you.”
He flung an arm in the air, batting away her suggestion. “Whatever!”
“Okay, now that you’ve opened the floodgates as to how you regard women, I need to ask if your daughter has contacted you this week.”
He folded his arms and glared at Sally. “No, I’ve already told you that.”
“Then I need to ask if your daughter ever confided in you if someone was treating her poorly.”
“Treating her poorly? What’s that supposed to mean? Do you think one of the family did this? Is that what you’re getting at?”
“We don’t know yet. It’s been suggested to us that might be a genuine possibility. I need to ask if you have any witnesses as to your whereabouts last night.”
He launched himself off the chair and stormed toward Sally.
Jack stood between them and forced Lord to retreat. “Back off, buddy. Just answer the question without the aggressive stance, okay?”
Lord paced the room. “And what if I don’t have a witness or alibi for last night? Huh? What happens then?”
Sally shrugged. “Then we will ask your neighbours if they heard or saw you in the house, and if nothing comes from that, then we’ll take you in for questioning.”
“As a suspect? Are you effing mad? This is my daughter we’re talking about here, not some low-life prostitute.”
“Your estranged daughter, Mr. Lord. I’m baffled by your reference to her being a prostitute, unless you’re trying to tell us something.”
“That’s it! Twist my effing words inside out and upside down. That’ll make a change, won’t it?”
“I’m doing nothing of the sort. You raised the subject. I’m just following up on what you said.”
He threw himself onto the sofa again. “If I get my hands on the animal who did this…”
Sally could see the man was genuinely upset. Feeling a sudden pang of guilt, she tempered her off-handedness towards him. “Hopefully, we’ll find the person before you do. I need to ask you again if Gemma ever hinted at someone showing her any kind of affection that they shouldn’t have.”
“In the family?”
“Not necessarily. Anyone at all?”
Lord shook his head in defeat. “No, not that I know of, but then, I don’t suppose she’d ever confide that sort of information in me. Did you ask her mother the same question?”
“I did. She gave us a list of possible suspects to question.”
“Shit! I’m assuming that my name was at the top of that bloody list. Oh, don’t bother answering. Why else would you be here? It’s written all over your face that you think I’ve got something to hide.”
“I’m sorry if that’s how it’s coming across, Mr. Lord. All I’m doing is trying to ascertain if someone was carrying a grudge against your daughter and could have hated her enough to want to kill her. I’m sure you can understand that, yes?”
He nodded reluctantly and exhaled noisily. “I get that. But I repeat, I didn’t do it. I might not have shown her when she was alive, but believe me, in my own way, I loved my daughter and would never intentionally harm her.”
“Physically anyway, eh?” Sally corrected him after recalling how badly he’d treated Gemma over the years.
Lord glared at her for an instant then broke eye contact and nodded again. “I suppose you’re entitled to your opinion. I’ll admit to not being the best father in the world, but at least she understood me, unlike others I could mention. She knew I would always be there if ever she truly needed my help.”
“Like taking care of her daughter when she left you in charge of the infant, you mean?” Sally issued him an assassin-type smile attached to the allegation, to keep him on his toes, just in case he thought he was steering her in the direction of crossing him off her list of suspects. Sally had no intention of doing such a thing until a full background check had been carried out and she’d spoken to anyone connected with the victim.
Lord remained silent and crossed his arms.
“Okay, I think we’re done here, for now, at least. Please don’t think about leaving the area, Mr. Lord. I’d hate to issue a warrant for your arrest.”
“Can you do that? Force me to stick around here?”
“Try me,” Sally stated triumphantly and turned on her heel towards the front door with Jack hot on her tail.
“Where to now, boss?” Jack asked, slamming the door.
Sally narrowed her eyes, contemplating their next move. “I’m dying to question Mark’s brother, Colin, but something is telling me not to jump in too quickly on that front. So let’s get back to the station and see what we can dig up about the brother before we go and tackle him.”
“Makes sense,” Jack agreed and hopped in the passenger seat of the car.
CHAPTER FIVE
The second Sally and Jack stepped back into the incident
room, she gathered the team to go over what they had learned so far. Standing at the whiteboard, Sally picked up the marker pen and noted down the names of interest and their relationship to the deceased.
“So far, we’ve tentatively questioned the husband, Mark. We’ll need to revisit him to question him further once he’s got used to the idea of his wife not being around. I’m not sure what to think about him, or his mother, just yet.”
“How did things go with the father, boss? Did the background check I sent over prove to be of any use?” Joanna asked.
“It did, Joanna. Apparently, his second wife has now thrown in the towel and deserted him.”
“You should have seen the state of his house. We thought about calling in the fumigators before we questioned him,” Jack added with a shudder.
Sally laughed. “He isn’t joking when he says that, either. The place was a dump. Again, in spite of his previous convictions, the jury is still out on that one for me, too. Which at the moment, leaves us with one other family member to interview and Gemma’s friends. I want to do a thorough check on Colin Whiting first before we pay him a visit. Maybe Jack and I should see Colin while someone else tracks down the friends and questions them. Any volunteers?”
Jordan and Stuart both raised their hands. Sally paused for a moment then looked at Joanna. “I’d really like Joanna to go, and maybe one of you guys could accompany her. Sort it out amongst yourselves, eh?”
Joanna nodded. “Fine by me. Which of you lovely gentlemen wants to be my chauffeur for the day?” She chuckled as the two men shook their heads.
“All right, I’ll do it,” Jordan volunteered after a moment or two.
“Thanks. Right, that’s sorted. Before you head off, I want us all to see what we can find out about the suspects we have so far. Anything and everything, even down to where they shop for their underwear—got that?”
“What about TV and press coverage, boss? Do you want me to organise that before heading off?” Joanna asked, ever the practical member of the team.
“I’d like to leave that for twenty-four hours this time. Let’s see what the pathologist has to report regarding the post-mortem first.”
