by David Blake
‘OK. Makes sense. I’ll let Barrington know. Whilst you’ve been away, DS Cooper managed to dig up a witness from the Irstead public carpark. Apparently, some guy saw a car reverse down the slipway at around eleven o’clock last night, dump something out the back and drive off.’
‘I don’t suppose he saw who was driving it?’
‘Only that he thought it was a man wearing a hat of some description; either a baseball cap or one of those trendy flat cap things.’
‘Nothing else?’
‘He was large, but not tall.’
‘So, short and fat, then?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Not much to go on,’ observed Tanner. ‘Did he at least see what type of car it was?’
‘He reckons it was a Ford Focus.’
‘Well, they’re common enough,’ said Tanner, glancing around at the cars in the manor’s carpark. ‘There’s two of them here, for a start.’ He gave Jenny a nudge, and pointed over at them.
‘What colour are they?’ asked Burgess.
‘One’s red, the other’s light blue.’
‘This one’s supposed to be black, which should narrow things down. Vicky’s started doing a search for registered owners of black Ford Focuses living in the Broads area. Hopefully there aren’t too many.’
Thinking that there probably were, Tanner didn’t reply, leaving Burgess to say, ‘Anyway, if you could get yourselves back here, you can start going through that list of names you’ve got.’
‘No problem,’ agreed Tanner, ‘but it may be worthwhile asking Simon Richardson if he recognises any of them first. If someone working here is trying to pin the murders on him, then it stands to reason that he must know them.’
‘OK, fair enough. Whilst you’re down there, you can see how he’s getting on with the press. We had a call from one of his neighbours this morning. The road outside his house has been swamped with reporters. They must have piled down there after we issued our statement. Apparently they’ve been making a bit of a nuisance of themselves. Barrington was forced to send a unit down to keep an eye on them.’
‘We’ll get over there now.’
As the call ended, Jenny asked, ‘What’s the plan?’
‘Apparently the Richardsons’ neighbours have been complaining about the reporters hanging around. We can run this list of names past him, and make sure they’re being kept under control while we’re there. But before we go, I’d like to take a very quick look at that Ford Focus over there.’
‘What, the red one?’
‘Uh-huh. Cooper managed to dig up an eye witness at Irstead. The man says he saw a black Ford Focus dumping something at the bottom of the slipway.’
Following him, Jenny said in some confusion, ‘But…that’s a red one!’ When he didn’t answer, she persisted, ‘You do know that black isn’t very much like red, given that it’s a completely different colour?’
‘I also know that under a florescent street light, a red car will often look black.’
Jenny raised an eyebrow. She’d never thought about it before, but Tanner was probably right.
The car itself was an older model, and looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned in a while.
Cupping their hands over their eyes, they began peering inside, when they heard a shrill voice calling out behind them, ‘May I help you?’
Spinning around, they saw the receptionist, Susan, standing just outside the entrance, scowling. She had one hand folded over her waist, whilst the other held a smouldering cigarette.
‘I don’t suppose you know whose car this is?’ Tanner asked.
‘It’s mine! And I can assure you there’s nothing wrong with it. It was serviced and MOT’d last month, and it’s taxed and insured as well.’
As Tanner and Jenny strolled back towards her, Tanner said, ‘It’s just that a car matching the description of yours was seen in a carpark in Irstead last night.’
‘Well, I’m fairly sure that it’s not the only Ford Focus in the Norfolk Broads.’
‘So it wasn’t you, then?’
‘What would I be doing hanging about in a carpark in Irstead, of all places?’
‘May I ask where you were last night between the hours of ten and eleven?’
‘I was at home, looking after my baby.’
‘Can anyone vouch for that? Your husband, for example?’
Without taking her eyes off Tanner, she took a short sharp drag of her cigarette. Breathing the smoke out of her mouth, she replied, ‘He’s away at the moment.’
‘May I ask where?’ asked Tanner, as he began reading through the list of names she’d given him earlier, looking for hers.
‘If you must know, we separated a while back. I don’t keep tabs on his whereabouts.’
Turning onto the second page, he asked, ‘So you don’t know where he is?’
‘That’s what I just said, wasn’t it?’
‘You’re name’s Susan Follett, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right, why?’
‘It’s just that you don’t seem to have included yourself on the list of employees.’
‘I was only told to print out a list of those who have access to the lab, and I don’t!’
‘Sorry. That must have been a miscommunication.’
‘So, you want my name on there as well, do you?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘What about the girl who covers the desk at the weekends?’
‘We need a list of everyone who works here, thank you.’
Discarding her cigarette onto the gravel drive, as she ground it in with the ball of her foot she said, ‘Wait here!’ and stomped back inside, muttering to herself, just loud enough for Tanner and Jenny to hear, ‘I suppose they want me to print out the names of all the bloody cleaners as well!’
As soon as she’d gone, with a wry smile, Jenny said, ‘Another happy customer!’
‘She’s not particularly cheerful, is she?’
‘Do you think she missed her name off on purpose?’
‘I suppose that would depend on what Dr. Khatri had told her to print out.’
‘She’s defensive enough, though,’ remarked Jenny. ‘And I think it’s very odd that she smokes.’
‘Less common these days, I suppose.’
‘I was thinking more because she said she was expecting her second child.’
There was a momentary pause, before Tanner reached for his phone again.
‘Who are you calling?’ asked Jenny.
Having dialled a number, Tanner didn’t answer, but instead held his index finger up to his lips.
‘Burgess, it’s Tanner again. I was hoping you’d be able to do me a favour?’
On the other end of the line, Burgess paused momentarily, before asking, ‘What’s that?’
‘Can you get someone to do a very quick background check on a Mrs Susan Follett? She’s the receptionist here at Buxton Manor.’
‘Any particular reason why?’
‘She owns a Ford Focus.’
‘A black one?’
‘Close enough,’ said Tanner, unwilling to tell Burgess that it was actually bright red. ‘There’s something about her that just doesn’t feel right. She gave us the impression that she was happily married with one child and another on the way, but we’ve just found out her husband’s left her and she doesn’t seem to even know where he is. Jenny also pointed out that she was openly smoking, which given where she works, and the fact that she said she was pregnant, does seem a little odd.’
‘OK, I’ll get Vicky to look into it. I’ll call you back if we find out anything.’
Ending the call, Tanner looked over at Jenny. ‘I don’t suppose you can remember where you’ve seen her before?’
‘I can’t, no.’
‘Well, I suggest we ask Simon Richardson about her when we see him. Maybe he knows her from somewhere.’
Hearing Susan Follett return, Tanner whispered, ‘And make sure you make a note of her number plate before we leave.�
�
CHAPTER FORTY TWO
DRIVING DOWN RIVER View Lane towards the Richardson’s house, the view at the end was in stark contrast to when they’d first been there. Instead of a quiet road leading towards the peaceful serenity of the majestic River Bure, there were now at least four news vans and a dozen or so other vehicles parked along the road, as near to the end as possible, wherever they could find a space.
‘Someone’s popular,’ remarked Jenny.
‘Yes, but I doubt Simon’s the type who wants to be, at least not for being a rampant homosexual who everyone thinks murdered two women in nearly as many days, one of which was his wife!’
‘I suppose Barrington’s news conference didn’t have quite the effect he was hoping for.’
‘Well, no, but in fairness, I’m not sure how it could have. As soon as that lot found out that three hours after Simon was released for the murder of his wife, another woman was killed, they’d have been down here like a shot, no matter what anyone had said.’
As Tanner reversed onto the grass verge behind another car, more than a hundred feet from Simon’s house, he added, ‘Frankly, I’ve got no idea what the press thinks they’re going to achieve by doing this.’
Knowing that they were about to step into the glare of the media spotlight, Tanner used the rear-view mirror to make sure his hair was straight, or at least not sticking up anywhere it shouldn’t be.
As Jenny did something similar using the passenger’s pull-down mirror, she said, ‘Maybe they think they’re going to catch him in the act of popping out to kill someone else? Or maybe they think he’s going to hold his own press conference and confess to both crimes, whilst relaying to the world exactly why he did it?’
With a wry smile, Tanner said, ‘Who knows?’
He pushed open the XJS’s thirty-year old driver’s door and heaved himself out.
As he checked his tie and buttoned his single-breasted dark grey suit jacket, he stared down the road towards the awaiting press. ‘At least he’s going to be in.’
‘You never know. He may have given them the slip,’ Jenny suggested.
‘What, that lot?’
‘Not very likely, is it.’
‘Not very likely, no.’
Tanner paused for a moment, before eventually saying, ‘Shall we go?’
As they hadn’t moved since they’d stepped out of the car, it was clear that neither of them particularly wanted to, not when half the national press was waiting for them at the end.
‘Maybe we should’ve phoned him up instead?’ suggested Jenny.
‘Maybe they’ll just think we’re Jehovah’s Witnesses and leave us alone.’
Ignoring her unimpressed look, he led the way down the last stretch of River View Lane.
As soon as they were spotted marching down the road, the press pack began to sit up and take notice. Tanner and Jenny might not be the police officers leading the investigation, but someone must have recognised them as being connected with the case, as cameras soon began to flash.
On the pavement outside Richardson’s driveway stood two uniformed policemen, both of whom Tanner recognised.
‘Everything all right here?’ he asked, as they approached.
‘Just the normal, sir,’ replied the nearest. ‘When we arrived, we found a few journalists peering through the windows and trying to get in round the back, but we soon put a stop to that.’
Tanner took a moment to stare up at the house. Noticing all the blinds had been pulled down, he asked, ‘Is anyone even at home?’
‘We’ve not seen anyone, sir, no, but the press seem to think he is.’
‘OK. We need to ask him some questions.’ Glancing over his shoulder, he added, ‘Whilst we do, any chance you could keep that lot under control?’
‘We’ll do the best we can, sir.’
Tanner and Jenny stepped past them to weave their way between Simon’s red Audi TT and his late wife’s silver Porsche 911, heading for the front door. As they did, questions began to be shouted out, none of which Tanner had any intention of answering.
Keeping their backs to the press, Tanner rang the doorbell and waited.
There was no answer.
‘He probably thinks we’re reporters,’ said Jenny.
‘Probably,’ agreed Tanner, and stooped down, poked his fingers through the letterbox and peered through the gap.
Unable to see or hear anyone, he called out, ‘Mr Richardson, it’s Detective Inspector Tanner from Norfolk Police. It’s nothing serious. I just need to ask you a couple of questions.’
Still nothing.
‘Are you there, Mr Richardson? Can you hear me?’
But only silence followed.
‘Maybe he did slip out the back?’ suggested Jenny.
‘Or maybe he’s done something stupid,’ said Tanner, with quiet concern.
He stood back to study the outside of the house again, looking to see if there were any windows open; but he couldn’t see any. There was a side gate though, and gesturing towards it, he said, ‘We’d better take a look.’
‘But…are we allowed to do that? Isn’t that his private property?’
‘If there’s a chance he may have taken his own life, then frankly I don’t care if we’re allowed or not!’
Returning to the front door, Tanner pushed his fingers through the letterbox again and called out, ‘Mr Richardson, if you don’t open up we’ll have to force our way in!’
Still nothing.
‘I don’t like this,’ he muttered. ‘Come on.’
Knowing that their every move was going to be photographed and probably filmed as well, and by as many as thirty journalists representing half a dozen different media channels from around the UK, after he’d told the uniformed policemen what they were going to do Tanner led Jenny over to the side gate.
It was locked, but only by a bolt on the other side, which Tanner was able to reach over to undo.
Once through, he bolted the gate again, and they walked down the side of the house. At the back they found a small patio area featuring a suite of modern-looking black wicker garden furniture, neatly positioned around a square glass coffee table.
The rear elevation of the house had the large kitchen widow and the wide bi-folding glass patio door that they’d seen from the inside on their previous visit, neither of which were open. Although the kitchen window was covered with a blind, the patio door had neither blind nor curtain, giving them a clear, unobstructed view inside.
Cupping their hands over their eyes, they peered through the glass doors into the kitchen, but there was still no sign of him.
‘He’s probably hiding upstairs,’ said Jenny.
‘Hopefully,’ replied Tanner.
Retrieving his phone from his inside pocket, he asked, ‘Do you have his phone number?’
After she’d fished it out from her notebook, Tanner dialled and stood on the patio, listening to the phone ring inside the house with a hollow, muted echo. Eventually it was picked up by the answerphone.
Jenny then read out his mobile number, and as Tanner waited for that to be answered, she once again peered through the patio doors.
Frustrated, Tanner said, ‘He’s not answering!’
‘Sir, I think I can see something.’
Putting his phone away, he joined her in peering through the glass doors again.
She pointed. ‘There - there’s something on the floor, poking out from behind the island.’
‘I can’t see anything.’
‘It just moved, look!’
‘Shit!’ said Tanner.
Standing back from the doors, he said. ‘Call an ambulance! Then call for back up! We need to get that door open!’
‘But…what is it?’
‘It’s a foot! It’s someone’s foot!’
CHAPTER FORTY THREE
TANNER STOOD STARING down at the body of the person he believed was Simon Richardson, but from what was left of his face, it was difficult to tell. What remained of h
is nose was nothing more than two fractured pieces of bone, jutting awkwardly out through discoloured broken skin. His mouth bore a closer resemblance to a butchered slab of meat, out from which oozed blackened, half-congealed blood. All Tanner could recognise of the man were his eyes, which stared up towards the ceiling. But even they’d taken on a look of macabre horror, as each of the pupils had been eclipsed by dark circles of haemorrhaged blood, leaked from ruptured vessels deep underneath.
From the time they’d first seen the body behind the kitchen island, it had taken them over ten minutes to gain entry to the property. Initially Tanner had attempted to smash the double-glazing of the patio doors, then the kitchen window, but had failed to crack either.
By the time they’d been able to gain entry by breaking in through the front door, and had surged through the house to the kitchen, any signs of life the body had displayed earlier had long since ebbed away. But from the moment they looked down at what was left of the body, one thing was certain. It was no suicide.
‘Jesus Christ!’ exclaimed Tanner, as he tore his gaze away from what was left of Simon’s face.
Jenny, however, found herself transfixed by the sight of what lay before them. ‘Who could have done such a thing?’
‘I’ve no idea, but whoever it was, he must have let them in through the front door. I can’t see any other way they could have gained entry. And it must have happened before the press turned up this morning. There’s no way they’d have missed someone walking out the front door after having just done this!’
‘Maybe they had a key, and came in through the patio?’
Turning to look over at it, Tanner said, ‘The key’s still in the lock. They wouldn’t have been able to lock it from the outside. No! Whoever did this walked straight in through the front.’
The sound of an approaching siren brought Tanner’s mind to more urgent practical matters.
Glancing over at the two uniformed police constables who’d helped break down the door, both of who were now staring breathlessly down into what was left of Simon’s face, he said, ‘Assuming he’s dead, and for his sake I almost hope he is, this is now a murder scene. I need the two of you out of here and the place cordoned off beyond the driveway, all the way round the boundary fence at the back. The press need to be kept as far back as possible, and make sure the road outside is kept clear of traffic. When you’ve done that, we need witness statements from the neighbours. Did any of them see anyone coming in or out last night, and if they did, we need a description. And if that’s an ambulance approaching, send them round the back. I don’t want any more people than necessary traipsing their way through the house.’
