‘And what was his name?’ Fielding’s heart was in her mouth.
‘It was Harry York; when he wasn’t one of our governors he worked for a local firm of estate agents.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
A chill went down Fielding’s spine when she heard the name. After thanking Mrs Sinclair for her assistance, and her confirmation that Harry York and Maria Turnbull knew one another, she put down the receiver and sat back in her chair, mulling it all over. So, the two deaths had to be linked. How could they not be, under the circumstances? Two people, with a distinct connection to Thornton School, had died, with both having traces of the poison digitalis in their system. That was a hard fact, not a coincidence. But, the question uppermost in Fielding’s mind now was, why had they died? Why had they been killed? Was the reason for their death linked to the school, or was that merely a common denominator?
‘That was a good shout,’ she said to DC Simon Banks.
‘I thought you’d find it interesting,’ he replied.
She wondered how long Burton would be upstairs with DCI Ambleton? She desperately needed his take, and his nose, on this one. Her head was spinning with all of this. She pulled open the top drawer of her desk and took out the box of Paracetamol which was always in there, shaking it to make sure there was something left inside. She wondered if all her future cases were deemed to be like this; was this what the life of a detective inspector was destined to be? What she needed right now was a coffee, and not just one from the machine outside or from the station canteen. She needed a proper one, froth and all, and she could only get that from the café down the road, the one she and Burton regularly frequented.
Grabbing her coat and bag, and telling the team that she’d only be a short while, she went in search of her caffeine fix, hoping that perhaps the fresh air outside would clear the fog inside her head. Apart from the coffee, what she needed was her old partner back. Even going for a beverage during the day would never be the same again without him right there by her side. She’d known that this day was coming, and that it would be upon them fairly soon, but now it was really happening and it just seemed to have come far too quickly. It wasn’t that she was concerned about the increased responsibility, as she knew she could handle all that well enough, it was just . . . well, she must stop thinking that way now. What was done was done, and that was all there was to it.
When she returned back to the station, she was more than a little surprised to find Burton standing talking to the team.
‘Where’s mine then?’ he asked, looking at the paper cup in her hand.
‘But . . . I . . .’ Fielding spluttered.
‘Just joking!’ he laughed, adding, ‘I’m here for the rest of the afternoon if you want me.’
Of course she wanted him! Fielding would have liked to have thrown her arms around him at that moment, but managed to restrain herself. Her face, however, must have said it all, as Burton gave her a knowing smile designated only for her.
As everyone was gathered together, she decided to update the team with what they knew so far. It’s what Burton would have done, so it seemed only fitting that she continue his legacy. As Fielding ran through everything, Burton listened with interest, admiring her for handling it so well. Even though he’d only been away from the team for a few short hours, he felt like he’d missed a lot, which caused him to have doubts regarding his forthcoming promotion. They were more than ready for their own respective ones, and agreed that it was a great chance for both of them, but the sad truth was they’d been together as a team for a very long time and any change to that would have an impact on them.
‘So, Harry York and Maria Turnbull knew one another?’ Burton asked at the end of the briefing.
‘Yes, Mrs Sinclair, the head teacher, confirmed that.’
Burton rubbed his forehead. ‘In that case, we know there’s a connection there, but what? What could they both have in common, or what did they know that got them both killed?’
‘Something about the school maybe?’ Summers suggested.
‘That’s a distinct possibility,’ Burton agreed. ‘Worth looking into perhaps?’ Rather than asking Summers to get onto that himself, he turned to Fielding and raised an eyebrow. It was her case now, so it was up to her to call the shots.
Fielding took the hint. ‘Yes, if you could get onto that Jack, that would be great. Perhaps have a word with his wife too, if she’s up to it, that is.’
‘Just a thought, but, governors can oversee budgets, can’t they?’ Summers added. ‘Perhaps he found something amiss in the school finances, and, if he knew Maria Turnbull particularly well, he may have spoken to her about it.’
‘That’s a very good point,’ Fielding noted. ‘Yes, by all means, take a closer look at the school’s finances as well and see if there’s anything amiss.’
‘Will do,’ he said. ‘By the way, the CCTV from the bar the women visited on the night of Maria’s death has come in, and I’ve quickly taken a look at it.’
‘Anything of interest?’
‘Not really. There’s only one camera in the area they were sitting, and the angle doesn’t really help, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh, that’s a pity, but at least we tried. Thanks Jack.’
‘How are things going with Maria’s friends?’ Burton asked.
‘Jane and Phillipa are visiting their employers this afternoon, just to hear what they have to say about them. You know, what their jobs entail, are they well thought of, that kind of thing. I’ve asked Simon to visit the husband’s offices too in order to ask similar questions there. You never know, they might turn up something. But I think this new connection to the school has potential. If it is something to do with money, then that’s always an established basis for murder.’
‘I agree. So, if we’re free, what are we going to do?’ Burton seemed keen to get involved.
‘Well, we’ve still got Madame Ortiz’s past and background to look into. I can’t believe a woman like that hasn’t left a trail of men friends behind her.’
‘Maybe she has, and is being cautious about it. Okay, let’s see what we can find out about her.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Despite their diligent investigation into the background of Marilyn Parkinson and her alter ego, Madame Ortiz, they could not find much more about her other than what they already knew. No boyfriend, no partner, no husband or wife – absolutely nothing. She was an enigmatic non-entity despite her claim to fame in social circles.
‘Surely nobody can leave no trace at all, can they?’ Burton said.
‘Unless,’ Fielding offered, ‘Marilyn Parkinson isn’t her real name at all.’
‘But all the initial research we did pointed to that; her mother, and her grandmother before her.’
‘But what if that was just what she wanted the public to know, with a convincing back story to go with it?’
‘That’s possible I suppose,’ Burton saw that as the only option, unless she was squeaky clean to a degree he’d never seen before. ‘But it’s only serving to warn me that she has something to hide.’
‘It does seem unusual in this day and age with digital footprints being the way they are. So, do we go and see her again?’
‘I think we should, don’t you?’
Fielding couldn’t find any reason to disagree with him. The woman had sparked an anomaly that needed to be looked into further. Plus, she was a little concerned that the flirting with her partner might be an attempt to distract them.
***
Marilyn Parkinson didn’t seem to understand why the two detectives wanted to see her again and was reluctant to let them in.
‘You see, as you’re indirectly involved in a murder enquiry, we did a search on you. And, to be honest, we couldn’t come up with anything,’ Burton confessed.
‘A murder enquiry?’ she asked in surprise. ‘But I thought that the young woman had died of natural causes?’
‘I’m afraid not,�
�� Fielding said. ‘We’ve since learned otherwise.’
‘Are you saying that you are doubting what I’ve told you?’ Parkinson retorted. ‘Because if you’re looking for validation, I can refer you to many people that I know and who I’ve helped over the years. You only need to look at my website to see all the wonderful testimonials from my clients all around the world.’
Burton could tell by the tone of her voice that she was not happy with this line of questioning. She was getting defensive, which could be down to her trying to hide something.
‘I don’t doubt that for a minute, Ms Parkinson. It’s just that the website appears to be the only place where there is any information about you, which is odd bearing in mind your social status.’
‘Like I told you the last time,’ she replied haughtily, ‘I prefer my privacy. I let the world see what I want it to see, nothing more. There are no skeletons in my cupboards, I can assure you, but, of course, I will co-operate with you however you want in order for you to get to the truth about that poor woman who died. I am not trying to block you in any way, detective inspector.’
Burton felt he had met his match. She seemed genuine enough in her response, and appropriately upset at his questioning. So much so that he turned to Fielding and raised an eyebrow. She would know what that meant, she could always read his expressions.
‘We didn’t mean to upset you, Ms Parkinson,’ Fielding took over, ‘and I apologise for making you think that we doubted you. It’s just, you see, we now have another murder case, and it appears to be linked to this one.’
Good old Fielding, Burton thought, searching for a reaction.
‘Oh?’ The astrologer was curious, her eyes glancing from one detective to the other. Burton held his ground, but Fielding continued. Parkinson seemed genuinely unaware. ‘It wasn’t one of the other women who came to see me, was it?’
‘No it wasn’t, but there is a distinct similarity, so you see, we are anxious to follow up any lead as quickly as possible. We are just doing background checks on everyone Maria Turnbull saw in her last few hours and, like we say, there’s very little on you.’
‘No, I understand, and I know you can’t tell me anything about the other murder either. But I’m afraid that there’s really nothing more I can tell you. I’m a private person, always have been, always will be, I guess. Best to keep private and public personas separate, don’t you think?’
‘I can understand your reasons,’ Burton said, deciding to change his tone a little. Just because he hadn’t come across someone with very little information about themselves in the public domain before didn’t make them guilty of murder. Her astrology and Tarot cards may all be an act, but that was the way of life she’d chosen; and if she wanted to keep her private life out of things, then good luck to her for being able to do it in this social media-orientated world. However, all that aside, the astrological symbol found on the body of Harry York bothered him. It had been confirmed by the team as being the sign for Sagittarius the Archer. Appropriate enough, bearing in mind the manner in which he died. But the link here was astrology, and that was something that Madame Ortiz specialised in, fake or not. However, he didn’t want to make her aware of the link at this juncture.
Feeling there was nothing more they could ask her at this point, Burton decided it was probably best to leave the questioning there. As she was showing them to the door, he asked one last question.
‘If you don’t mind me asking, is there anyone special in your life right now?’
He noticed a slight, barely noticeable hesitancy before she replied.
‘No, detective, there isn’t. Why, are you asking me out on a date?’ she laughed.
Burton felt his cheeks start to burn, especially as he could see Fielding out of the corner of his eye looking in his direction.
‘No, of course not,’ he said adamantly.
‘Ah,’ Marilyn laughed, ‘I can see that perhaps you two are a little more than just colleagues judging by the look your lady has just given you!’
‘Very observant,’ Fielding cut in to save Burton having to explain, ‘but I can assure you that Detective Inspector Burton was asking a question relevant to our enquiries.’
‘Okay,’ Marilyn smiled. ‘If you need to speak to me again you know where I am.’
Thanking her for her time and her co-operation, they walked back to the car.
‘I got the impression that there is somebody special in her life, judging by that slight pause before she answered the question,’ Burton said as he put the key in the ignition and turned it.
‘Maybe he’s high-profile, or married even,’ Fielding suggested. ‘So, you’re lucky; she’ll not be wanting to go out on a date with you then!’
‘Stop it!’ Burton rebuffed as they drove away.
‘So, do we think that she’s off the hook?’ Fielding asked.
‘You know, I’m still not sure. It’s this whole astrological sign thing that’s bugging me. It’s too much of a coincidence, but I can’t figure it out right now.’
‘It’s like somebody is directing our attention onto her, isn’t it?’
‘I know what you mean,’ Burton agreed. ‘I’m thinking the same. Somebody with a grudge, perhaps. Maybe that’s why she likes to keep herself to herself, and doesn’t let anyone get too close. It sounds to me that maybe she’s had a bad experience in the past?’
‘And all the odd correspondence she told us about.’
‘Yes, and there’s that.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘I’ve arranged for forensic accounting to take a look at Thornton School’s finances,’ Summers said to them when Burton and Fielding returned back to base. He was the only one in the squad room; the rest of the team hadn’t yet returned from interviewing the women’s and the husband’s employers.
‘And was Mrs Sinclair happy with that?’ Burton was amazed that the request hadn’t been met with any kind of opposition from the head teacher.
‘Yes, she was more than happy to let us look into their accounts.’
If there was anything to hide, something which led to the deaths of both Maria Turnbull and Harry York, Burton felt that she couldn’t be aware of it.
‘Did she say who was the Board of Governors’ financial treasurer?’
Summers got out his notebook and turned to the last entry. ‘One of the parents, she said. A bank manager by the name of Sandra McMillan.’
Burton thought for a moment, throwing ideas around in his head. ‘Okay, so I know this is reaching, but if she manages a bank then perhaps she could know ways to hide money, if that’s what’s been happening. Perhaps Maria and Harry York found out about it?’
Always on the defensive, always speculating as to how a criminal could conceivably commit a crime, Fielding thought, knowing how his mind worked.
‘Well, if there has been anything dodgy going on, forensic accounting will be able to root it out,’ Summers informed them.
‘Yes, I’m sure they will. Did they say how long it would take?’ Burton asked.
‘I did ask, but they said that they couldn’t specify a timeframe as such as it depends on a lot of factors.’
‘I understand,’ Burton nodded. However, there again, there was this nagging doubt within him. Could it be as simple as fraud? He’d known people murder for far less than that, so yes, it could be that simple, he reminded himself.
Despite the ‘fraud’ aspect being a very plausible one, he wanted to know what the rest of the team had found out about the other suspects.
‘Have you heard from any of the others?’ he asked Summers, although not knowing if they’d even arranged to call one another once they’d ended their interviews.
‘No,’ Summers confirmed. ‘We didn’t agree to that, only reporting in on what we’d found when we got back.’
‘Okay.’
As the DC went back to his desk, Burton strolled over to the evidence board. Fielding joined him. It was growing bigger
by the second, with six people now featured on there.
‘I tell you what’s bothering me,’ he said to his partner after scanning the information. ‘If this is something to do with fraud, where does the poison come into it?’
‘The only connection I can see is the fact that Maria Turnbull was a biology teacher.’
Burton frowned. ‘Hmm, perhaps. But it doesn’t really make sense, does it? Whoever it is who’s doing the killing, they’re highlighting the poison aspect of it. I mean, surely, it would have been enough to have shot Harry York through the heart with an arrow without using the poison, wouldn’t it?’
‘I agree,’ Fielding nodded. ‘Even if it was to subdue him, why that particular one? And of course, there’s the astrological symbol; that’s pointing us directly to Madame Ortiz.’
‘Ah,’ Burton sat back on the desk while still staring at the board, ‘this one is a bit of a puzzler.’
‘That’s a bit of an understatement!’ Fielding retorted. ‘Why is it we always get the odd ones?’
‘I know what you mean. I think there’s more to this than we’re actually seeing and I don’t think it’s a simple case of fraud either.’
While Burton was still engrossed in the evidence board, Fielding went back to her desk. She wanted to draw up a chart of who was who, and what linked each of the suspects and the victims to one another. Deciding that the best way would be to put it all on a spreadsheet, she opened up a programme and started to add the information. By the time she’d finished she had a complete list which was starting to look like the main premise of a game of Cluedo. All she needed was Professor Plum in the library with a candlestick and the comparison would be complete. Pleased with her work, she printed it off and studied it in great detail.
The main points were:
One - Maria Turnbull and her three friends visit Madame Ortiz. Maria dies in the taxi on the way home. Cause of death – poison.
Dead to Me Page 8