The Fourth String

by Jill Paterson

  ‘Because I wanted the violin back. It’s mine. I’d called him repeatedly about it but he stopped taking my calls so I decided to pay him a visit.’

  ‘And it seems you were successful, so why were you so desperate to get into the apartment afterwards?’ asked Fitzjohn.

  ‘I wanted the violin’s provenance. I could hardly ask Crispin for it; he was dead and under the circumstances, I didn’t want to hang around.’

  ‘You’d have been out of luck anyway, Mr Bonato, because according to his wife, Crispin Fairchild never held the provenance. She does.’

  ‘Francesca? I might have known she’s behind this?’

  ‘I take it you know Mrs Fairchild,’ said Fitzjohn.

  ‘She’s my sister.’

  ****

  While Williams dealt with the formalities concerning Antonio Bonato prior to a formal interview, Fitzjohn made his way to his office. As he did, however, he saw the heavyset figure of Chief Superintendent Grieg leaving Peta Ashby’s office.

  ‘Good afternoon sir,’ said Fitzjohn as Grieg drew near only to receive a grunt in reply. Not surprised by the rebuff but curious as to why the Chief Inspector was, once again, in the building, he opened the door to his office. Perhaps Betts was right and Grieg was finding it difficult to be on sick leave, he thought as he sat down behind his desk. At that moment, Betts appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Williams tells me you’ve brought Antonio Bonato, alias Raymond Edwards, in for questioning, sir.’

  ‘We have, thanks to your quick thinking in regards to the remains of that telephone number on the notepaper.’

  ‘I think we have Ms Travers to thank for that one, sir. If she hadn’t noticed it in her mailbox, we’d probably be still searching for him; and the violin.’

  ‘Yes, well, it’s a good result all round. I’m pleased.’ Fitzjohn recounted his conversation with Bonato before he said, ‘We’ll conduct an official interview in due course after he’s been fingerprinted and we’ve had time to check up on his background. I also want Francesca Fairchild here at the station before we speak to her brother.’

  ‘Do you think they might be in this together, sir?’

  ‘It’s difficult to say. What I do know is, there’s something not right about the whole situation. I can feel it in my bones. Have you had time to go through that box file yet?’

  ‘I’m just doing that now, sir, but so far all I’ve found is personal notes about Crispin Fairchild’s life, career, travels, and hobbies. Still, you never know, something might turn up. I’ll get onto that background check on Bonato.’

  ‘Do that and I’ll go speak to Chief Superintendent Ashby and bring her up to date with where we are so far.’

  ****

  The sudden change in the direction of his case had given Fitzjohn some sense that he was making progress although at the same time, he wondered where it would lead. When he reached the chief superintendent’s office, he found the door open and Peta Ashby standing at her window looking out over the city. He tapped and after a moment’s hesitation she turned, a look of concern etched across her face.

  ‘Fitzjohn, just the person I wanted to see,’ she said, endeavouring to regain her composure. ‘I hear you’ve had a breakthrough in your case.’

  ‘We have, ma’am,’ replied Fitzjohn as they both sat down. ‘We’ve apprehended the person who’s been stalking one of The Claremont residents, a man by the name of Antonio Bonato.’ Fitzjohn recounted his interview with Bonato. ‘And it’s led to the recovery of the Stradivarius violin.’

  ‘Excellent. Hopefully, you’ll be able to make an arrest shortly and recommence your leave. Are you planning on going away?’

  ‘No, ma’am,’ replied Fitzjohn, aware of the Chief Superintendent’s continued effort to cover her uneasiness. ‘I’m a member of the North Shore Orchid Society and I made a commitment to help organise our spring show.’

  ‘Ah, yes. I seem to recall being told that you’re a gardener with an incredibly green thumb.’ Peta Ashby appeared to hesitate.

  ‘I don’t wish to speak out of turn, ma’am, but is there anything wrong?’ asked Fitzjohn. ‘It’s just that you seem distressed.’ A moment of silence ensued and Fitzjohn began to regret he had brought the matter up.

  ‘You’re right, I am, but it’s something I have to deal with myself,’ replied Peta Ashby at last. ‘But thank you for your concern, Fitzjohn.’

  ‘Forgive me, ma’am but it’s not something to do with Chief Superintendent Grieg, is it? It’s just that I saw him leaving your office earlier.’

  ‘You’re very perceptive, Fitzjohn.’

  ‘I get a lot of practice.’

  ‘Well, you’re right. It is to do with the chief superintendent. I don’t know why I’ve let him get to me,’ she continued, shaking her head. ‘He’s just such an…’

  ‘Irrational and unpredictable character to deal with,’ offered Fitzjohn.

  ‘Yes, although I wouldn’t have put it quite so politely with what he had to say to me.’ Peta slumped back in her chair.

  ‘Can I ask what that was?’ Fitzjohn sensed Peta Ashby’s hesitation. ‘The internal inquiry, perhaps?’ he prompted.

  ‘As a matter of fact, it was and I’m stunned at what he said. He told me — no, that’s not true — he ordered me to make sure that you’re not available to testify at the internal inquiry.’

  ‘Did he threaten you with the end of your career in the police force if you didn’t comply?’ asked Fitzjohn.

  ‘Yes, he did. How did you know?’

  ‘It’s the way Chief Superintendent Grieg works,’ replied Fitzjohn.

  ‘I should have known. It’s just that I’ve never come across anyone like this before. How do you put up with him?’

  ‘With difficulty, ma’am. All I can suggest is that you don’t succumb to his threats because he has a way of turning a situation in his favour. In the end, he’ll hang you out to dry.’

  ‘As he tried to do to you.’ Peta Ashby met Fitzjohn’s gaze. ‘I heard about it on the grapevine. Because of Chief Superintendent Grieg, you were accused of being responsible for the incarceration of an innocent man. Is that right?’

  ‘Yes, but fortunately, I was able to prove that I was out of the country at the time of that investigation.’

  ‘Mmm. Well, be aware, Fitzjohn, because I have a feeling that he’s going to make sure nothing will be found which connects him with that case either, which is why he wants you out of the way.’ Peta Ashby paused. ‘But I have a feeling that you will be there, despite the situation, if you’re called, won’t you?’

  ‘I will indeed, ma’am.’ Fitzjohn gave a quick smile.

  ****

  Fitzjohn returned to his office secure in the knowledge that the internal inquiry might be but one step further in his battle with Grieg. It was not inconceivable that the man would manage to manipulate the situation in his favour, and if that happened, his future career and possibly that of Peta Ashby would be in jeopardy.

  It was not until later that day that he met again with Betts and listened to the result of his background check on Antonio Bonato.

  ‘How did it go?’ asked Fitzjohn.

  ‘As it turns out, sir, Antonio Bonato is a well-known petty criminal but more importantly, he’s now thought to be involved in the international movement of contraband. He’s been subpoenaed by the Italian authorities in relation to a case currently before the courts. Now they know we’re holding him and seeing we have an extradition treaty with Italy, they want him extradited immediately.’

  ‘Mmm. That’s all well and good but it’s not going to happen while Mr Bonato is a person of interest in our investigation, and not at all if he turns out to be our killer,’ replied Fitzjohn. ‘We’ll interview him shortly, but first I want to speak to his sister, Francesca Fairchild. Has she arrived yet?’

  ‘Yes sir. She’s waiting in interview room 2. She’s also been provided with counsel, just in case she’s involved with her brother’s activities in any way.’
/>   ‘Good.’

  ****

  Fitzjohn and Betts walked into the room where Francesca Fairchild waited, to find her seated beside her solicitor, her hands clasped together under her chin. Her eyes met Fitzjohn’s as he entered the room, expressing a sense of condescension.

  ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, Mrs Fairchild,’ said Fitzjohn as he sat down.

  ‘Can I ask why I have a lawyer sitting here with me, Chief Inspector? I thought I was brought here because you have news about the Stradivarius.’

  ‘We do have news, Mrs Fairchild,’ replied Fitzjohn. ‘In fact, we’ve been successful in recovering the violin. Unfortunately, however, the situation has become a little complicated and as such, I need to question you and decided you should be assigned counsel.’

  ‘But why? I’ve done nothing wrong.’

  ‘Nevertheless, under the circumstances, I believe it’s in your best interest. You see, since we last spoke, there have been developments which could connect you to your husband’s murder.’

  ‘What? How can this be?’

  ‘We understand that you have a brother by the name of Antonio Bonato.’

  ‘Yes, I do. Why do you ask?’ replied Francesca, guardedly.

  ‘Because we found him not only in possession of the Stradivarius but he has also admitted to being in your husband’s apartment on the night he was murdered.’ Francesca glared at Fitzjohn. ‘Were you aware your brother was here in Australia?’ When Francesca did not reply, Fitzjohn continued. ‘I realise this is a delicate situation for you, he being your brother, but even so, if he’s found to be Crispin Fairchild’s killer, you could be charged with accessory after the fact.’ Francesca pushed her long, dark brown hair back from her face.

  ‘No. I didn’t know he was here and I can’t believe that you think he could be involved in Crispin’s death. Antonio is a lot of things, Chief Inspector, but he’s not a killer,’ replied Francesca, shaking her head. ‘You’re mistaken.’

  ‘There’s no mistake, Mrs Fairchild. Your brother’s image was caught on the building’s surveillance camera and has been verified. Added to this and quite apart from your brother’s admission of having visited Crispin Fairchild on the night he was killed, is the fact that the violin’s missing fourth string has been identified as the string found wrapped around the deceased’s neck.’ Fitzjohn hesitated at Francesca's horrified expression. ‘My apologies, Mrs Fairchild. It’s not my intention to upset you with such detail but in order to convince you that we have a valid case against your brother, I had no choice.’

  Francesca took a deep breath in an effort to compose herself. ‘All Antonio would have wanted was the violin. I know this because he and my father have argued over it often, especially after Crispin and I split up. He wants it sold as he needs money to fund his lavish lifestyle. And it seems that in the end he decided to take matters into his own hands,’ she added with a sigh. ‘Unfortunately for him, it was the same night that Crispin was murdered. I will never believe that Antonio killed my husband, Chief Inspector, and as far as the Stradivarius is concerned, it cannot be seen as stealing since it is owned by our family and he is part of that,’ she continued, tears brimmed her eyelids. ‘What will happen to him now?’

  ‘He’ll be held for the time being because another matter concerning the Italian authorities has come to light.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’m not at liberty to go into detail, I’m afraid. All I can say is that if your brother is not charged with murder, he will, no doubt, be extradited to face the authorities in Italy.’

  ‘Extradition? I don’t understand. I must talk to him.’

  ‘That won’t be possible until we’ve questioned him further,’ said Fitzjohn.

  ‘Then I shall wait here.’

  ‘Might I suggest you wait at your hotel, Mrs Fairchild? You will be contacted as soon as a meeting with your brother can be arranged.’

  ‘I can’t just sit waiting in my hotel room. If you won’t allow me to see Antonio can I at least have access to my husband’s apartment? I need to make plans for the sale of his belongings and I’ve engaged the services of an auctioneer. She wants to make an itemised list of everything that is to be sold.

  ‘I think we can arrange that, Mrs Fairchild. I’ll have an officer accompany you. Shall we say tomorrow morning? I’ll make sure you’re contacted about the time.’

  ****

  Fitzjohn and Betts entered the interview room where Antonio Bonato waited. They found him pacing the floor while the solicitor who had been assigned to his case, sat at the table. Bonato stopped pacing when the two officers entered the room.

  ‘If you’d care to take your seat, Mr Bonato, we’ll commence the interview,’ said Fitzjohn, placing his papers on the table before he sat down.

  Reluctantly, Bonato slumped into the chair next to his solicitor, his eyes narrowed at Fitzjohn. ‘You may as well save yourselves the time, Chief Inspector as I’ve already told you, I didn’t kill Crispin.’

  Ignoring this statement, Betts prepared the recording device while Fitzjohn advised Bonato of the interview procedure, adding that he was not obliged to answer questions.

  ‘There are a number of issues we wish to discuss with you, Mr Bonato,’ said Fitzjohn once the interview got underway. ‘You have already been advised that your image was caught on The Claremont’s surveillance camera when you entered and exited the building on or about the time of Crispin Fairchild’s death. Your response was that Mr Fairchild was already dead when you entered his apartment.’

  ‘It’s true. That’s what happened.’

  ‘Come, Mr Bonato, do you seriously expect us to believe that you just happened to call on Crispin Fairchild the night someone else murdered him? You’ll do yourself a favour if you tell us what really happened.’ Bonato did not reply. ‘Very well, we’ll move on to the missing Stradivarius violin found in your possession.’

  ‘I admit to retrieving it from Crispin’s apartment but as it belongs to me, I don’t see it as stealing.’

  ‘That’s debatable since you’ve not provided us with any proof of ownership. However, since your sister, Francesca Fairchild, who is in possession of its provenance and doesn’t wish to press charges, the matter won’t be taken any further. You will, however, be charged with the interference of the victim’s body by wrapping a string from that violin around his neck as well as stalking and threatening Elvira Travers.’ Bonato shrugged but did not respond. ‘Do you have anything at all to say in your defence?’ Fitzjohn waited but as Bonato again chose not to comment, he continue. ‘Very well, but before we conclude the interview, I should also inform you that you’ve been subpoenaed by the Italian authorities in relation to a case currently before their courts. They have expressed a wish to have you extradited.’ Bonato glared at Fitzjohn but maintained his silence. ‘Perhaps you need a little time to contemplate your position so we’ll continue our interview tomorrow.’

  ****

  ‘The two officers left the interview room and made their way through the station. ‘It doesn’t look promising as far as his involvement in Crispin Fairchild’s death is concerned, Betts, but we’ll speak to him again in the morning after he’s had time to adjust to his situation. You never know, after a night in a cell he might feel like talking and let something slip.’

  ‘Maybe he’s telling the truth when he says that Fairchild was dead when he entered the apartment, sir.’

  ‘That might well be the case, but if it is, why would he interfere with the body? It’s a bizarre act. I mean, you’d have to loathe a person to do such a thing, especially if you weren’t the killer.’

  ‘I think you would, sir.’ Betts looked anxiously at his watch.

  ‘Have you got places to go, things to do?’ asked Fitzjohn.

  ‘I have a date, sir.’

  ‘Ah. In that case, don’t let me keep you,’ replied Fitzjohn, as he opened the door to his office. ‘I’ll be leaving myself in a few minutes.’

  As he watch
ed Betts disappear along the corridor, Fitzjohn felt a surge of disappointment, his thoughts turning to Sophie. Granted, she had ended her relationship with Betts, although the look on her face the other night when the two had come together for the first time since their separation, spoke volumes. Nevertheless, while it was unfortunate that Betts had decided to move on with his life, who could blame him? With a sigh, Fitzjohn gathered his papers into his briefcase, switched off the light and left his office to emerge into a rain-filled night.

  CHAPTER 17

  With the rain continuing throughout the night and into the next morning, Fitzjohn shrugged into his overcoat and ran out the front door to the waiting cab. As it sped off, his thoughts drifted to the sudden turn his case had taken with the appearance of Antonio Bonato and how he was going to handle this new situation. When he arrived at the station, anxious to continue his interview with the man, he went in search of Betts whom he found at his desk on the telephone.

  ‘That’s great,’ he overheard Betts say. ‘I’ll see you tonight. Morning sir,’ he continued as he hung up.

  Fitzjohn sat down in the chair next to Betts’s desk. ‘You sound very chipper this morning. Good night, was it?’

  ‘It was sir, yes.’

  When no further information about Betts’s date seemed to be forthcoming, Fitzjohn said, ‘We’ll carry on with the Bonato interview first thing.’

  ‘Before we do, sir, I have some news on the case. Williams has finally tracked down the barman on duty the night Rhodes Lambert went out drinking when Crispin Fairchild was murdered. He’s confirmed that Mr Lambert arrived shortly after eleven o’clock and didn’t leave until after three that morning.’

  ‘Well, I never thought I’d welcome one less person of interest on a case but I have to admit, that’s how I feel at the moment,’ said Fitzjohn. ‘I’ve also been thinking we can cross Edmund Fairchild off our list as well. Even though his alibi for the night his brother died can’t be substantiated, there’s no evidence to suggest he was anywhere near The Claremont.’