The DCI Isaac Cook Thriller Series: Books 1 -3

by Phillip Strang

  ‘What are your motives?’

  ‘To be with Malcolm, of course.’

  ‘And the title?’

  ‘I appreciate it, but it is not the prime motivation.’

  ‘In the thirty years since you first slept with Malcolm Grenfell, were you ever unfaithful to Bob Hampshire?’ Wendy asked.

  ‘No. I loved Bob.’

  ‘And Malcolm?’

  ‘I loved him as well.’

  ‘Complicated.’

  ‘I don’t see why. It is possible to love more than one person, difficult to live with them both. I chose Bob because he was reliable and able to provide for Kevin. Malcolm was Malcolm, and he was not reliable or the father figure that I wanted. Malcolm always knew that. We both knew that one day we would be together.’

  ‘We need to talk to you separately,’ Isaac said.

  ‘Malcolm is waiting for you.’

  ***

  Isaac and Wendy were ushered into a room at the back of the house.

  ‘It used to be the smoking room. In the past, the men would retire here to smoke cigars and talk about business. The women would stay in the other room discussing needlecraft,’ Lord Penrith said. He stood erect and was wearing a suit.

  ‘Thank you for seeing us, your Lordship?’ Isaac did not know why he had respected the man’s title. Grenfell had self-indulgently wasted his life, yet now he looked worthy of the title; almost too good to be true.

  ‘It’s Emma. She’s changed me.’

  ‘She told us that you and she always had a belief that you would be together one day.’

  ‘More hope, although I don’t regret my past life. It was full of fun and no responsibility. Now I am involved in God knows how many charities. They even want me to judge the best vegetable of the year at the local agricultural show.’

  ‘What do you know about vegetables?’ Wendy asked.

  ‘Not a lot. What do you want, by the way?’ Lord Penrith asked. ‘You’ve arrested the people who killed Montague.’

  ‘We have reason to believe that Albert murdered Garry Solomon,’ Isaac said.

  ‘Preposterous. Poor old Albert wouldn’t hurt a fly,’ Penrith said.

  ‘Are you aware of his time in the army?’

  ‘Pushing a pen for Queen and country.’

  ‘He never told you?’

  ‘He was older than me. We had different mothers. Our conversations were few and far between.’

  ‘Your brother was not in an office. He was undercover.’

  ‘A spy?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you saying that Albert was behind enemy lines, spying?’

  ‘Our source is good.’

  Malcolm Grenfell sat down and let out a sigh. ‘Albert, a regular James Bond, licensed to kill.’

  ‘That is correct.’

  ‘Hard to imagine Albert with a bevy of women.’

  ‘I don’t believe that is the reality, do you?’ Isaac said.

  ‘Not really, but I have to give him credit. All those years pretending to be a stuffy aristocrat, and there he was with a story worth telling. And you believe he killed Garry?’

  ‘Our evidence points to that conclusion.’

  ‘Are you saying that because he killed in the army, he could have killed Garry?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Murder! What is so significant that would justify that course of action? Unless it was maintaining the family name.’

  ***

  Isaac could not fault Malcolm Grenfell. His brother Albert had been in his twenties when he had been born, so it was very possible that there was little communication between the two men.

  Emma Hampshire’s reason for marrying Malcolm Grenfell appeared relevant. Isaac and Wendy found her in a conservatory at the back of the house.

  ‘We have reason to believe that your first husband was murdered by Albert Grenfell,’ Isaac said. He waited to see the reaction.

  ‘My brother-in-law, Malcolm’s brother?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can you prove it?’ Lady Penrith asked.

  ‘The witnesses are all dead, as is the accused,’ Isaac replied.

  ‘And the motive?’

  ‘I am not at liberty to discuss that.’

  ‘Why not? Is it a big secret?’

  ‘It may become relevant at a later date.’

  Isaac thought that the former Emma Hampshire was on edge.

  Wendy had questions of a more personal nature.

  ‘Why did you marry so quickly?’ she asked.

  Lady Penrith took one step back, unsure of what to say. ‘I told you before that I loved him.’

  ‘You have been able to marry him since Bob Hampshire died,’ Isaac reminded her.

  ‘I was not ready.’

  ‘Not ready or was it because Malcolm Grenfell had no money and no title.’

  ‘That’s an outrageous statement, Chief Inspector.’ Isaac had his reaction. He had the measure of the woman.

  ‘I put it to you that you were glad to be rid of Garry Solomon because he had no money. And then Bob Hampshire comes along.’

  ‘You are accusing me of prostituting myself to the nearest rich man.’ Lady Penrith was on her feet and shouting.

  ‘And as long as Bob Hampshire kept you and your son in luxury, you stayed with him. Did you sleep with Malcolm Grenfell while you were with Bob Hampshire?’

  ‘How dare you accuse me of this. I was faithful to Bob.’

  ‘And once he died, did you resume your relationship with your current husband?’

  ‘No, yes, sometimes.’

  ‘What’s the answer?’ Isaac persisted.

  Wendy looked at Isaac, uncertain where he was heading.

  ‘We sometimes went away together for a few days.’

  ‘While he was seducing young women?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did you agree with his behaviour?’

  ‘I was not willing to marry him until he stopped.’

  ‘Are you saying that you did not marry him for his title?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you were sleeping with him before. Why?’

  ‘I’m a woman. I need a man in my bed.’

  ‘Lady Penrith, did you know that Albert Grenfell had murdered your husband?’

  ‘No, why would I? What was there for me to gain?’

  ‘Protection for Malcolm Grenfell.’

  ‘Protection from what?’ Lady Penrith asked. Isaac declined to answer.

  ***

  ‘You were rough on Lady Penrith,’ Wendy said on the drive back to London.

  ‘I’ll apologise later,’ Isaac said as he focussed on the road ahead.

  ‘What did you hope to find out?’ Wendy liked Emma Hampshire. The woman had been through a lot, and now she sat in the stately home with a title. Wendy had noticed the female touch in the house. In the hallway, there were flowers, as in the other rooms. The curtains had been flung open, the light streaming in. Upon their arrival, Wendy had noticed a van belonging to a company of professional cleaners, although not Daniel Solomon’s, as the doors to his business had closed after his arrest for murder.

  ‘I wanted her to be angry and confused. Only then would I know the truth.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What do you know?’

  ‘Emma Hampshire is not guilty of any crime.’

  Upon their return to Challis Street, Isaac called the team together, even though it was late. ‘Keith, what do you have?’

  ‘A scanned copy on Montague’s Grenfell’s laptop. There was a password that I had to crack first.’

  ‘Genuine?’

  ‘I’ve checked, sir,’ Bridget said.

  ‘There’s only one issue,’ Larry said. He was glad of the late night, a chance to get away from home renovations.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Albert Grenfell could not have murdered Garry Solomon.’

  ‘What?’ Isaac was sure they had their man, even if they could not prove it.
<
br />   ‘He was out of the country for two months during that period.’

  ‘Proven?’

  ‘Conclusively.’

  ‘George Sullivan as a favour to Albert Grenfell?’ Wendy asked.

  ‘He was not in the country either.’

  ‘Montague?’

  ‘It’s possible,’ Larry said.

  Isaac, unsure how to proceed, phoned DCS Goddard. ‘We are at a dead end.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We can prove that Albert Grenfell did not murder Garry Solomon.’

  ‘Other suspects?’

  ‘Montague Grenfell, but it’s not provable. And besides, he’s dead.’

  ‘What do you want to do? Shelve the investigation?’

  ‘Not yet, sir.’

  ‘One week maximum,’ DCS Goddard said.

  Isaac could see only one approach. He needed to take all those involved and push them to the limit.

  Wendy would go and talk to George Sullivan, although the man was too old for intense questioning, and he would probably say very little.

  Larry could talk to Kevin Solomon, now the stepson of Malcolm Grenfell, Lord Penrith.

  Isaac knew that Malcolm Grenfell had been obtuse with him. This time his interview would be formal and direct. He hoped the man had good legal representation, as his legal rights were going to be severely challenged.

  ***

  Larry found Kevin Solomon at his flat in Hampstead. The man was in a good mood and invited him in.

  ‘Coffee?’ Solomon asked.

  ‘Yes please.’

  ‘I assume your visit is not purely social.’

  ‘Your mother married Lord Penrith.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You have no problems with it?’

  ‘Why should I? She is still young, and Malcolm is, at least, good fun. Bob Hampshire was a good man, but he was not always the most entertaining.’

  ‘You knew Malcolm Grenfell from before?’

  ‘He was a friend of Bob’s, and my mother knew him.’

  ‘You were aware of their past relationship?’

  ‘I believe I told you that already.’

  ***

  Wendy met George Sullivan. They sat in the front room of his house. His wife continued to fuss, always bringing drinks and snacks. Wendy asked if they could have fifteen minutes without interruption. Victoria Sullivan acquiesced.

  ‘Albert Grenfell did not murder Garry Solomon,’ Wendy said.

  ‘I never thought he did,’ Sullivan said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Albert was a man of honour. Killing for your country, protecting the good name of the family is honourable, but murdering a civilian for no good reason made no sense.’

  ‘There is a motive,’ Wendy said.

  ‘Sufficient to murder?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Even so, I cannot think badly of Albert.’

  Wendy phoned Isaac. ‘George Sullivan can tell us nothing more. Albert Grenfell asked him to install the grille, that is all.’

  Larry updated Isaac. ‘No more to tell. The trail has run cold.’

  ‘No, it hasn’t,’ Isaac said. ‘All three of us are going to Penrith House.’

  ***

  Lord and Lady Penrith were not pleased to see Isaac and his team. Kevin Solomon was there, as were several prominent locals.

  ‘This is an intrusion, Chief Inspector,’ Lord Penrith said. Isaac had ensured a marked police car was outside with two uniformed officers. Isaac realised he was taking a risk here, but he could see no alternative. The only hope for a resolution to the murder of Garry Solomon lay with Lord Penrith. Lady Penrith echoed her husband’s criticism.

  Isaac chose to ignore them both. ‘This is a murder enquiry, and I intend to resolve it today. Lord Penrith, if you will please accompany me into the other room.’

  ‘This is my house. How dare you order me around.’

  ‘It’s either here or down the station. I have two officers outside. Any obstruction on your part and I will have you in handcuffs. Do you understand?’ Isaac knew if he were wrong, his DCS would not be able to protect him.

  ‘Emma, make my apologies to the others. Tell them we will meet again tomorrow,’ Penrith said. ‘Chief Inspector, I have no option.’

  ‘Correct.’

  A dining room table was in the centre of the room: Larry and Isaac on one side, Lord Penrith on the other. Isaac gave the customary caution. Penrith asked for Kevin Solomon to be present. ‘He’s had some legal training.’

  ‘You murdered Garry Solomon,’ Isaac directed his gaze at Malcolm Grenfell.

  Emma Hampshire, who had been listening at the door, burst in. ‘How dare you accuse my husband,’ she said.

  Wendy followed soon after. ‘I couldn’t stop her.’

  ‘Very well,’ Isaac said. ‘Lady Penrith, you can stay, as long as I have your word that you will not interrupt. Otherwise, we will reconvene at the local police station.’

  ‘Malcolm Grenfell, I put it to you again. You murdered Garry Solomon,’ Isaac said.

  Lady Penrith rose from her chair, her face ablaze with anger. Wendy took a firm hold of her and sat her down. ‘You must remain calm,’ she said.

  ‘Why would I do that?’ Lord Penrith replied.

  ‘Because he came between you and the title.’

  Penrith let out a nervous laugh. ‘Thirty years ago, are you joking? Do you think I was interested in the title of Lord Penrith? I had two older brothers and my chance of ever claiming the title was remote. And why? What has Garry Solomon got to do with my title?’

  ‘We have found proof that Archibald Grenfell, your grandfather, was married two times, not one as previously thought.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ Penrith said.

  ‘He was married to your grandmother, as well as the mother of Frederick Richardson, the father of Gertrude and Mavis. Frederick Richardson was legitimate, and as such, had a claim on the title.’

  ‘What proof?’

  ‘I am putting it to you that you murdered Garry Solomon to hide the truth. To conceal the fact that Garry Solomon may have had a claim on this house, and possibly the title.’

  ‘Even if that was true, he was younger than me.’

  ‘He threatened you. Told you that he would ensure you never gained the title. Both Albert and Montague were in their fifties, so they were unlikely to have any male heirs. The title was yours if you waited long enough, and suddenly there was another person who could threaten your succession.’

  ‘Is this true, Malcolm?’ Emma Hampshire screamed.

  ‘It’s rubbish. He can’t prove a word of it.’

  ‘Garry Solomon was involved with ruthless men. He could have had you killed and then waited for Albert and Montague to die. Even assisted their deaths as well. The title may be contentious, but the Grenfell wealth never was. As the oldest surviving male relative he would have had a clear right to it.’

  ‘He suspected the truth, but he never had any proof.’

  ‘Suspected what? That your grandfather had married a maid, Bronwyn Richardson. That is why Frederick, Gertrude and Mavis’s father, was given the surname of Richardson. To hide the truth, the shame that Archibald Grenfell had married for love, and outside of his class.’

  ‘Albert told me.’

  ‘Bronwyn Richardson?’ Isaac asked.

  ‘She died in childbirth. Albert knew the full story.’

  ‘Why did Albert tell you?’

  ‘We had an argument. I told him that I wanted to marry Emma, or Emily as she was known then. He said I could not.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Bad form taking the wife of a relative. That was Albert, always worried about the family name, even when nobody knew.’

  ‘Is that when you decided to murder your wife’s first husband?’

  Kevin Solomon and Lady Penrith sat mute, unable to comprehend.

  ‘Why would I kill Garry and then hide his body where it might be found?’

  ‘There are two motives fo
r the death of Garry Solomon,’ Isaac continued. ‘The first is so you would be able to claim Emily for yourself, but I am not sure that is the most important reason.’

  ‘Why?’ Lady Penrith asked.

  ‘He wanted you, that is clear,’ Isaac said, ‘but why did he hide the body?’

  ‘You have an answer?’ Lord Penrith said, almost sneeringly.

  ‘You killed Garry Solomon and placed him in the fireplace. You concealed the fireplace and admitted it to Albert.’

  ‘Why would I tell Albert?’

  ‘You needed him to protect you. If your plan went wrong and the body was found, the blame would have come back to you. Albert was crucial. You knew that Albert would not allow the good name of Grenfell and the title of Lord Penrith to be sullied by something as common as murder, especially one committed by his half-brother.’

  ‘It’s a good story, but there is no substance,’ Penrith said.

  ‘George Sullivan installed the grille at Bellevue Street, oblivious to what was inside the room. He even admitted that if he had known, he would still have installed the grille based on the bond between him and Albert.’

  ‘You’re talking in riddles, Chief Inspector.’

  ‘You knew that in time it would be found. You planned for such an eventuality.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘You did not think it would be thirty years, maybe just a few. You were aware that after Mavis Richardson found her husband in bed with Gertrude, there was a plan to sell the house. Montague Grenfell had documents attesting to the fact.’

  ‘Why didn’t they sell it?’ Penrith asked.

  ‘Montague talked them out of it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I believe you said it yourself. Montague knew everything. He was aware of what you had done and what was in the fireplace. Albert had told him.’

  ‘Then why after thirty years did he agree to sell it?’

  ‘Montague had been fiddling the books. We found proof of it, and it cost him his life. The cash was running short. He must have thought that after thirty years nothing would have remained in the fireplace. He had discounted the accumulated coal dust and pigeon droppings, and they had mummified the remains.’

  ‘If the body had been found sooner?’ Penrith asked.