by M A Comley
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope she was there, too,” Sally replied, not really one for believing in that kind of mumbo jumbo.
“You mentioned some news you have for me.”
Sally looked the woman in the eye and nodded. “The post-mortem results are back, and they have thrown up a surprising outcome.”
“What’s that?” Heather asked, sitting forward in her chair.
“Were you aware that Gemma was pregnant?”
Heather’s shoulders slumped, and her mouth dropped open. “How far gone?”
“About four weeks. You had no idea, I take it?”
“No.” Tears poured from her eyes; she wiped them away on the back of her hand, but a steady stream of fresh tears replaced them. She started rocking back and forth on the edge of her seat and stared at a swirl of pattern in the carpet. “I never knew. I doubt she knew, either. She wouldn’t have kept that kind of news a secret from me.”
“Do you know if Gemma and Mark were trying for another baby?”
“I don’t think so. She would have told me. I think Samantha was more than either of them were able to cope with.”
Sally chewed on the inside of her mouth for a second or two before she delivered the news she anticipated would rock the woman’s world off its axis. “I actually found out about the pregnancy yesterday, but the investigation has been full-on for the last twenty-four hours, as you can imagine. Anyway, after questioning a few suspects, I acquired DNA samples from the men in question. I asked the pathologist to match the DNA to the sample of the foetus as a long shot.”
“And? Who were the suspects?” Heather sniffled.
“I can’t really tell you that. I just want you to be aware that we do have someone on our radar.”
“But that’s not fair. Surely as Gemma’s mother, I have a right to know who you think the suspect is.” She gasped. “It is a member of that family, isn’t it? If not Mark, then…”
“I can’t tell you, I’m sorry. All will be revealed soon enough. I just wanted you to be aware of Gemma’s pregnancy more than anything.”
Heather’s face drained of all colour. She couldn’t have looked more stunned if Sally had thrown a bucket of cold water over her head. “That’s like only telling me half the story, Inspector.”
“I know. Again, I apologise. Over the next few days, maybe we’ll gain enough information to address that situation. Until then, I have to keep the suspect’s name under wraps. Please understand that, Heather.”
“I can’t believe this. Will you tell Mark, or have you told him already?”
“No. To be honest, I would rather keep the details hush-hush for now.”
“Why?”
“He’s just lost his wife, which is a devastating experience in itself. If I went over there and told him that Gemma was carrying a baby when she died, how do you think he’s going to react to that? He needs time to grieve for his wife. The only reason I have decided to tell you is because I promised you that I would keep you informed on how the case progressed. I’m relying on you to keep this information between us for now, Heather.”
“I really don’t understand that, Inspector.” She gasped.
“What is it?” Sally asked.
“I know you haven’t named the father, but if it’s Colin, do you think this is what the contretemps between Gemma and Colin was about?”
“Again, I can’t speculate on that at present. When did the contretemps take place? In August? Can you remember the date exactly?”
“Not without looking at the calendar.” She crossed the room to the calendar standing upright on the cabinet and picked it up. Pointing, she counted back the weeks. “I think it was around the sixteenth of August.”
“Well, it’s September seventeenth today, which just tallies at a stretch with what the pathologist told us. He thought Gemma was only four weeks pregnant.”
“It has to be him, Inspector. He must be the one who killed my daughter. Perhaps he had an inkling that she was pregnant. Maybe they were using contraceptives, and it broke during sex… oh, I don’t know. I’m grasping at possible reasons. To me it adds up, but then I’m not a copper. Surely you can see how plausible that could be, can’t you?”
“Of course I can. Even if your line of thinking is accurate, Heather, it’s not an offence to have an affair.”
“Then what are you doing wasting time here? You should be out there, looking for evidence to capture the man guilty of killing my daughter.”
“I understand you being upset, Heather. I want to assure you that my intention is to keep questioning the suspects we have already highlighted, in the hope that one of them will finally fold and admit to the crime. Do you know when the funeral is going to take place?” Sally asked, changing the subject, wishing to cool down Heather’s anger a little.
“The funerals, you mean? No, the Whiting family have so far kept me out of the loop there,” she replied bitterly.
“I can ring Mark if you like. Would that help?”
“No. They’ll probably think I’ve put you up to it. I’m sure they’ll tell me eventually, once the arrangements have been made.”
“Very well. We’ll be going now then. I’m sorry to drop such a devastating bombshell on you. I want you to be assured that I am doing everything I can to bring your daughter’s killer to justice.”
“I’ll have to take your word on that, Inspector,” Heather said once they’d reached the front door.
Sally smiled at the woman, but Heather slammed the door in her face in response. “Well, that could have gone better.”
Back in the car, Joanna locked her seatbelt in place and said, “Let’s hope she doesn’t go around there to cause a stink.”
“Do you think I was wrong, telling her about the pregnancy?”
“No. I think she had a right to know. However, looking at things from her point of view, boss, I know I would want to avenge my daughter and her child’s death.”
“Really?” Sally was shocked to hear the constable reveal that. “But without evidence, there’s little we can do to place Colin at the murder scene.”
“Maybe you should call him in for questioning for his own sake then. It’s pretty obvious she has him in her sights as being the father of the child.”
“Rather than let Heather get her hands on him? You think she’d be capable of harming him?”
Joanna shrugged. “I’m not a mother, and neither are you, boss. Who’s to say how we would feel in the same situation? A mother’s love is a powerful force to be reckoned with, or so I’ve been led to believe. She also intimated that she has a temper on her at times.”
Sally started the car and pulled away from the kerb. She headed back to the station but changed direction when she was halfway there. “Maybe I’ll do as you suggested and bring Colin in, after all.”
Colin Whiting was standing in his drive, watering a hanging basket, when Sally and Joanna walked up the path. “Hello, Colin.”
“Inspector? What brings you out here?” he asked in a hushed voice.
“Is your wife inside?”
“She is. Why?”
“Tell her you won’t be long. I’d like you to come to the station for more questioning.”
He placed the watering can on the ground beside him, and through gritted teeth, he said, “What? I’ve told you everything I know. Why are you harassing me?”
Sally laughed. “It’s hardly police harassment when I’m asking you politely to accompany me to the station, Mr. Whiting. I’ll even let you have a solicitor this time. How’s that?”
“Are you saying that I need one? Why?”
“Let’s discuss that back at the station, shall we?”
“But I’m due at work in a few hours.”
“I’d suggest you ring your firm and ask them to get someone to cover your shift. I can’t express enough how important it is that I question you further today. Now, we’re wasting time. Do you have a number for a solicitor, or do you wish me to appoint the duty one when we
get to the station?”
“I have one. Let me get my coat and explain to Leona what’s going on.”
“You have five minutes, Mr. Whiting.”
Sally and Joanna kicked stones off the path while they waited for Colin to reappear. Leona peered out the living room window and glared at Sally when she waved at the woman. “Oops, someone’s not pleased to see me.”
“Right. I’m ready.” Colin pulled on his black waterproof jacket and pressed the key fob to open his car. “I can take my own car, yes?”
“Of course. You can drop the attitude during the drive to the station, too, Mr. Whiting—unless you have something to hide, that is.”
“If I have an attitude, Inspector, it’s because you’ve turned up at my home unannounced and unexpected, when all I’ve done is abide by your wishes and been honest with you.”
“Good. Then you have nothing to worry about. Honesty is always the best policy in these circumstances. Don’t you agree, Constable?”
“Wholeheartedly, Inspector, especially if someone can prove their innocence.”
Colin opened his car door and scowled at them. “I have proved my innocence. Look where it’s got me. My solicitor will wipe the floor with you; I can guarantee that.”
“Follow me, if you will, Mr. Whiting. I’d hate for you to get pulled over for speeding on the way.”
He huffed and jumped into his car.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sally watched Colin Whiting’s fury escalate as he waited in the reception area of the station for his solicitor to arrive.
A dishevelled man in his early forties entered the room and shook Whiting’s hand.
“I’m DI Parker, if you’d like to come with me.”
“Mr. Scottman. Sorry for the delay, Inspector.”
Sally accepted his apology then led the way up the grey corridor.
Joanna and a uniformed officer were already present in the room. Sally started the tape and introduced everyone.
“Thank you once again for taking time out of your busy schedule to drop by for questioning today, Mr. Whiting. I really appreciate your cooperation in this matter.”
“According to my client, Inspector, you have already questioned him in connection to his sister-in-law’s untimely death. May I ask why you’ve dragged him in here a second time in as many days?”
“We don’t make a habit of it, I assure you, Mr. Scottman. Our time is valuable, especially at the beginning of an important case such as this. However, it would be foolish of me to ignore a significant piece of evidence that has come our way since our last meeting.”
“Which is?” both men asked in unison.
“That the deceased was pregnant when she died.”
Colin’s features darkened, and he reclined in his chair and folded his arms. “So… oh, I get it! This is why you wanted a DNA sample from me.”
“Actually, it wasn’t. That was to eliminate you from the crime scene. However, I did ask the pathologist to run the test, all the same, and bingo bongo, what did he come up with?”
“Are you saying the child was mine?”
Sally suppressed the urge to applaud him. “You don’t seem that surprised, Mr. Whiting. Why is that?”
“Then your radar is way off, Inspector. This piece of news couldn’t have come as more of a shock to me.”
Sally thought back to the conversation she’d had with him at his house, in front of his wife. She clicked her fingers. “That’s right. Your wife told us that you’re in the process of going through fertility tests.”
“I wasn’t referring to my personal life.”
“This whole situation is about your personal life, Mr. Whiting. Have you fathered any children before?”
“No. What has that got to do with anything?”
“Just asking the question. How do you think your wife is going to react when she hears the news?”
He huffed out a breath and tightened his arms in front of him. “No doubt she’ll be over the moon! How the fuck do you think she’s going to react?” He sneered, revealing a side of him that Sally hadn’t witnessed before.
Scottman glanced at his client and shook his head.
“What?” Colin snapped at his brief. “Have you never heard a client utter the word fuck before?”
Scottman kept his head down and stared at his notebook.
“Well, at least it’s answered one question for you during the fertility process.”
“Nice, Inspector, very sensitive,” Colin bit back.
“It wasn’t meant as a derogatory slight on your wife. I was merely stating a fact that you could possibly pass the information on to the fertility clinic,” Sally pointed out with the tightest of smiles.
“Duly noted. So does this put me at the very top of your list of suspects?”
“I’m afraid it does. It also gives us a prime motive, too—as I’m sure Mr. Scottman will attest to.”
“Well?” Colin asked his brief.
“It certainly highlights a motive; the Inspector is right there. However, I doubt very much the fact that you fathered a child with the deceased could be regarded as a prime motive.”
Sally looked at Scottman as if he were a crazed lunatic. “Seriously? You really believe that?”
“I do, and I would do my utmost to challenge that fact if this ever goes to court, Inspector.”
“Okay, then I guess you and I obviously view the damning evidence differently.”
Scottman looked up from his notebook and nodded, ending the conversation.
“So, in view of the damning evidence against you, Mr. Whiting, are you willing to tell me what kind of relationship you had with your sister-in-law, Gemma Whiting? Bearing in mind that I’m also aware of some kind of argument you had with the deceased at a family barbecue in August of this year.” Sally couldn’t help feeling smug when Scottman sharply turned to face his client.
Colin waved away the solicitor’s concerns. “It was nothing.”
Sally frowned. “What? The relationship?”
“The argument.”
“Why don’t you disclose what it was about and let me be the judge of that. Did this occur before or after your affair ended with the deceased?”
“After, and it wasn’t really an affair, Inspector. Sorry to throw water on your enthusiasm.”
“Then what would you call it?”
Colin shrugged and stared at Sally as he struggled to supply a suitable answer.
Sally suddenly remembered that he’d had a sexual assault charge against him. “Or perhaps it was something more sinister altogether?”
He narrowed his eyes, and his jaw moved as if he were grinding his teeth. “Meaning?”
“Maybe you did have an affair, in your mind. Perhaps you forced Gemma to have sex with you.”
His eyes widened, and colour rose in his cheeks. “What? Are you crazy? She was my sister-in-law, damn you!”
“Funny how you’re only just recognising that fact now, Mr. Whiting. If you did have an affair with Gemma, why wouldn’t the fact that she was your relative through marriage have prevented that from going ahead in the first place? It’s a little late playing the family-member card now, don’t you think?”
“No. I had consensual sex with Gemma. I’m telling you the truth, I swear.”
“Again, I only have your word on that. I also can’t discount your previous conviction for sexual assault, so you’ll have to forgive me there. So, how are we going to get out of this stalemate, Mr. Whiting?”
“How the fuck should I know? All I can tell you is that whatever warped suggestions you’re trying to make about my relationship with Gemma, you’re way off the mark. I’d also like to say, on the record, that I think the more you’re looking in my direction, the less likely you are to track down the real killer.”
“In your opinion.”
“Yes, in my opinion. This is utter bullshit, and you’re just grasping at straws. So what, if Gemma was expecting my baby? So effing what?”
“An
d do you think both your wife and your brother will be saying that once they learn the truth?”
He inhaled heavily. His glare intensified, and he tightened his arms once more.
Get out of that one, matey!
Still, he remained silent.
“What, not even a ‘no comment’?”
His gaze continued to bore into hers.
“Not even that, eh? Okay, then I think I need to start searching through Gemma’s personal effects, such as her e-mails and if she kept a diary she wrote in every day. That kind of evidence would be hard to dispute, yes?”
“You need to do what you have to do, Inspector. I’ll say this for the final time: I had nothing to do with Gemma’s death, and forgive me if I’m wrong, but I believe you are barking up the wrong tree. You have no evidence placing me at the murder scene. How’s that for an accurate summary of your case against me?”
Sally smiled. “You’re smart, Mr. Whiting. But I have to tell you that even smart suspects slip up eventually. I’d like to put this on record that when that day arrives, I’ll take extreme pleasure in slapping the cuffs on you.”
If she thought her comment would trip him up and force him to reconsider, she was very much mistaken. The glare he’d fixed on her was replaced by a smug smile and a wink.
Realising the suspect had the better of her, Sally drew the interview to a halt and asked Joanna to see Colin and his solicitor out of the station while she returned to the incident room, where she kicked out at the nearest chair, sending it crashing into the wall.
“We have to find it… the one clue that will nail that bastard.”
“I take it the questioning didn’t go well, boss?” Jordan asked warily.
“No, it didn’t. There must be something we’re missing here. I’ve just threatened Colin Whiting that I’m going to search Gemma’s personal effects in the hope he might show some apprehension at the prospect—he didn’t.”
“Maybe he was bluffing,” Jordan suggested as Joanna walked into the room.
“What’s your opinion of him, Joanna? Do you think he’s telling the truth?”
“You’d have more experience about that than me, boss. To me, he seemed innocent, but what do I know?” Joanna shrugged.
