To Die For (DI Sam Cobbs Book 1)

by M A Comley

  “How do you know him, Jean? It’s important.”

  “He’s my daughter’s fiancé, they’re getting married soon. Why?”

  Sam swept a few strands of hair behind her ear and extracted her phone from her pocket. She motioned for Bob to get his out, too. “Are you aware of the contents of your father’s Last Will and Testament?”

  “Not really, no. Dad always kept that sort of stuff from me. What are you getting at? You’re confusing me with all these questions, I don’t have a clue what you’re going on about. My head hurts. I need you to be clearer.”

  “Sorry, that wasn’t my intention. We appreciate you must still be going through the grieving process after your father’s passing.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. I’ve had to contend with sorting out the funeral arrangements this week, even though the pathologist is refusing to let my father’s body go at present. He’s told me he’s still carrying out certain tests, hard to believe, but I don’t profess to know what goes on when someone dies.”

  “Yes, it can be a lengthy process in certain cases; I think your father’s suspicious death must be one such case.”

  “I see. Thank you for explaining that to me. I’ve also had to deal with the farm issues. Registering his death with the authorities et cetera. The whole thing has been a bloody nightmare for me to sort out, I haven’t even had time to begin to grieve for him, not really. And now you’re here, asking about Wayne.” She shook her head and her frown deepened into a thick line.

  “I’m sorry you’re going through all this turmoil at such a sad time. I fear I’m about to add to your burden.” Her heart went out to the poor woman, knowing the dreadful news she was about to share, adding to her load.

  “What? I can’t take any more, not now. I was out there tending to my garden, I find it eases my stress. It was working, too, right up until you showed up.”

  “That’s a shame. We don’t mean to add to your stress levels, but what we have to say is extremely important, I assure you.”

  Jean inclined her head. “Go on. You’ve got my attention.”

  “How long have you known Wayne?”

  “Off the top of my head, a couple of years, three at the most.”

  “Do you know much about his past?”

  “No, what’s he bloody done?”

  “His former employer lodged an assault complaint with us, but later dropped it. Did you know about the incident?”

  “No. That’s appalling. Is he likely to tell me about such a thing?” Jean frowned.

  “I’m not sure. I suppose any decent person would. Maybe he’s told your daughter.”

  “Well, Shelley hasn’t mentioned it to me if he has told her. I’m sorry for being dense here, but how does this affect me?”

  “We believe Wayne is our chief suspect in your father’s death.” Sam stopped there, allowing the news to sink in.

  Jean shook her head several times and growled. “I hope for his bloody sake you’re wrong about that. If you’re not, you’re gonna need to keep him out of my sight. I’m liable to throttle the bastard. What makes you think it’s him?”

  “You’re aware that your father had some medals in his possession, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Okay, bear with me on this one. Whilst we were at your father’s farm the other day, we found his Last Will and Testament, which seemed okay to us. We set it aside as evidence, not giving it a second thought because, as far as we were concerned, we were dealing with a possible burglary gone wrong. That’s where the clues were heading to begin with.”

  “Okay, yes, I remember you telling me that. Shocking as it was, I believed you were right in your assumption. I haven’t given my father’s death another thought, not in that respect.”

  “Here’s where things get interesting. Before coming here, I received a call from the pathologist dealing with your father’s case. He told me that the Scene of Crime Officers at the farmhouse discovered a second Will.”

  Jean nodded and her frown deepened. “That’s feasible. Dad was always mentioning he’d need to adjust certain clauses in his Will, I let him get on with it. I wasn’t interested in his money, I used to tell him that all the time.”

  “Can we show you what we’ve found?”

  “Please do.”

  Sam took Bob’s phone, and along with her own, she placed them on the arm of the chair Jean was sitting in. “You can read them both and tell me what you think is different.”

  “Wait, I’m going to need to put my glasses on, my eyesight is atrocious for close-up work.” Jean left her seat and collected her glasses from the sideboard along the far wall. She returned and held up both phones, her gaze constantly drifting between the pair of them. “Wait, what’s this? Why on earth would he do that?”

  “Which part are you referring to, Jean?” Sam asked, her pulse racing.

  “The part concerning Shelley. Why has dad got her in this one, but left her out of this one?”

  “That’s the part that has us flummoxed. I take it you can’t shed any light on it?”

  “No, I can’t. I want to find out, as much as you do. I’m going to ring my daughter and find out what the hell is going on.”

  Alarm bells rang for Sam. The last thing she needed was for her daughter to be aware there was something wrong without getting the chance to question her first. “No, please don’t do that.”

  “What? Why not?”

  Sam inhaled a steadying breath and let it seep out between her lips. “For all we know, she and Wayne might both be involved in your father’s death.”

  Jean jumped out of her seat. “No way. That’s a ridiculous idea. I refuse to entertain it, shame on you for considering it. I’m going to give her a call, you can’t stop me.”

  “Please, Jean, listen to me. We need to keep the proof under wraps for now. By all means, give her a call and invite her over, but please don’t tackle her over the phone about this issue. It’s liable to set the investigation back considerably if you do.”

  “I’ll make the call. I’m going to ring my son, Ian, as well, he needs to be with us to hear this. He’s not likely to believe me otherwise. Jesus, what a dreadful situation to be involved in. My own daughter!”

  “Keep it conversational over the phone, if you will, the last thing we want to do is spook her.”

  Jean made the call to her two children. They both agreed to come over under the pretence that Jean needed to go through the funeral arrangements with them before she signed off on them.

  Shelley was hesitant to agree at first, but Jean managed to talk her around. Whereas Ian told his mother he’d be at the house within five minutes. She ended the calls and reached for a packet of cigarettes. “Do you mind? I need something to steady my damn nerves.”

  “Of course not. Go ahead. Can I get you a drink?” Sam’s heart went out to the woman whose whole world was in a chaotic shamble.

  “Do you want one? Is that what you’re asking?” Jean asked.

  Sam smiled. “No, we’re fine. I’ll make you one, if you want one.”

  “I don’t. I’d rather have a fag. Ian should be here soon. They both live a few streets away, but when Ian says he’s going to do something, he generally does it. My head’s a bloody mess. I hope I don’t screw this up. Dad would never forgive me, I’m aware he’s probably looking down on me now, expecting me to do the right thing. I’ve dreamt about him a lot this week. Nothing sinister, mostly reliving my childhood, days at the beach, enjoying a picnic in the middle of a field, surrounded by cattle. He used to think that was the perfect day out, being with his cows. Silly bugger.”

  The door slammed and a male voice called out, “Mum, where are you?”

  “In here, son.”

  A man in his late twenties, in jeans and a T-shirt, entered the room and stopped. “Oh, sorry, you didn’t mention you had company.”

  “Come in, Ian. This is DI Cobbs and DS Jones, they’re the detectives trying to find out what happe
ned to your grandfather.”

  “Oh, right. Any news on that front? Shocking for granddad to die in those circumstances. We’re all still really cut up about it.”

  Sam offered him a brief smile. “We’ve had a few leads we’re keen to chase up, hence the reason why we’ve come to see your mother today.”

  His brow furrowed. “You never said over the phone, Mum. What’s going on?”

  Just then, the front door slammed and Shelley entered the room.

  “All will be revealed soon enough. Hush now,” Jean whispered to her son, adding to his confusion.

  “Hi, Mu…” Shelley entered the room and took a step back when she saw everyone. “Oh, I thought it would just be me and Ian here, what’s going on?”

  “Come in, dear. This is DI Cobbs and DS Jones. You remember, I told you about them, the detectives in charge of your grandfather’s case, don’t you?”

  “Ah yes. Is something wrong? Have you got good news for us concerning gramp’s death?”

  Jean held her hand out, and Shelley approached her mother and slipped her hand into hers. “Come here, we want to talk to you, darling.”

  “Okay. About?” Shelley’s gaze flitted between everyone present in the room.

  Sam cleared her throat. She’d been studying the daughter since her arrival and had to admit, she had trouble deciphering her expressions as they frequently changed. “Something has come to our attention during the investigation that we need clarifying. It involves you, Shelley.”

  “Me?” Shelley tilted her head. “What have I done?”

  Sam collected the phones from Jean’s chair, brought the screens to life and proceeded to show Shelley. “You’re aware that your grandfather made out a Will before his death?”

  “I am. Yes. He promised me his medals.”

  Sam smiled. “Yes, so it says here. Are you also aware that your grandfather altered his Will a few months ago?”

  A horrified expression emerged on Shelley’s face. “No, I didn’t know that.”

  Her eyes drifted off to the left. Sam knew then that the young woman was lying. It was a well-known fact that when questioning suspects under caution, liars always averted their gaze in that direction. “Is that right?”

  “Yes, what are you insinuating? I don’t care for your tone.” Shelley turned to her mother for assistance. “What’s she getting at, Mum?”

  Jean simply stared at her daughter. “We know, love. It’s best if you come right out and tell us the truth.”

  “What are you going on about? What truth? What am I being accused of here?” Tears emerged and Shelley dabbed at her eyes with the cuff of her jacket.

  “The Will says it all. In the latter version, the one which we have to class as the legal Will, you’ve been omitted from it. Care to tell us why, Shelley?” Sam watched the young woman’s reaction carefully. She seemed genuine enough.

  Shelley faced Sam again and shrugged. “I don’t know. Gramps never discussed his personal life with me.”

  “Did you fall out with your grandfather before his death?”

  Her chin dropped onto her chest and she remained quiet.

  “Shelley, for God’s sake, answer the inspector,” Jean ordered.

  Shelley’s lip quivered. “Yes.” Her voice wobbled and she swallowed several times before she spoke again. “Granddad told me he was going to leave me out of his Will, actually he threatened me that he would do it… if I didn’t dump Wayne.”

  “What? Why on earth would he say such a thing?” Jean jumped in and asked, not giving Sam the chance to speak.

  Shelley hesitated and then told them, “Because he hated him.”

  “Why? I didn’t realise he had that much to do with Wayne. Dad never said anything to me, why wouldn’t he have discussed the issue with me? What in God’s name did Wayne do to him? I demand to know, Shelley.” Jean took a few steps towards her daughter.

  Sam did the same, as if sensing Jean was about to clobber Shelley. She’d step in if anything disastrous developed between them.

  “We’ve been struggling to make ends meet for a while and Wayne asked me to bend granddad’s ear about lending us some money to tide us over. Granddad twigged that it wasn’t me doing the asking, but Wayne. He said he would lend us the money if we both showed up at the farm when he handed over the cash.” She paused and dabbed at the fresh tears falling.

  “Stop with the dramatics and get on with telling us what happened,” Jean insisted.

  “Mum, give her a chance,” Ian intervened. “Can’t you see how upset she is?”

  “Yes, I’m not blind, son. But at least she’s still here to tell the tale, unlike my father. So don’t tell me to back off. She’s going to tell me or I’ll sodding well thrash the truth out of her.”

  Sam stood between the warring mother and daughter. “Jean, we’ll have less of that talk. Let’s all calm down and listen to what Shelley has to say, okay?”

  Jean stared at Sam, an angry twitch developing at the corner of her eye. “I will not calm down. I know my own daughter. I can tell when she’s trying to cover something up. Stand back, let me get the truth out of her.”

  Sam wagged her finger. “It’s not going to happen.” She glanced over her shoulder at the trembling Shelley and asked, “Are you up to finishing your story?”

  “Yes, I need to get it off my chest. I’ve been burdened with it for months now. Wayne and I were summoned by granddad on a Sunday morning back in February. At first, he was all over Wayne, tried to get information out of him, even patted him on the back several times. Then he pulled out his medals and handed them to Wayne.”

  “He did what?” Jean asked, perplexed. “Why?”

  “He then proceeded to give Wayne a lecture, telling him that his uncle had earned the medals when he was a mere teenager in the war. Explained how he had put his life on hold to serve in the army from the age of fifteen. Wayne angered granddad by saying, ‘so what’. Incensed, granddad lashed out, tried to thump Wayne. He missed and ended up flat on his face on the floor. I rushed to help him get to his feet, but granddad shook me off, assured me he could manage. But when he tried to get up, he stumbled and cracked his forehead on the cabinet in the lounge.”

  Jean gasped. “I remember that injury, he told me he walked into a barn door, tripped over Daisy, he said, and all the while it was your bloody boyfriend at fault. You wait until I get my hands on him.”

  “He didn’t do anything, Mum, and he’s my fiancé, not just my boyfriend. It was granddad’s fault, no one else’s. Wayne ticked him off and he overreacted. Granddad was acting the big I am, insinuating that Wayne wasn’t good for anything, except trying to scrounge money off an old man.”

  “Right, we get the picture now, what happened next?” Sam probed.

  “We left soon after, but for the next few days, it was like Wayne was obsessed with those damn medals. He kept asking me how much they were worth. I told him I didn’t know. The more I told Wayne to forget about the damn things, the more he wanted to talk about them. I ended up asking granddad what their value was. He went ballistic, threw me out of the farmhouse, told me in no uncertain terms what he thought of me and Wayne and shouted that he was changing his Will and leaving me out of it.” Shelley stared at her mother. “That was the last time I saw him.”

  Jean’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “You should have told me. I kept asking you why you hadn’t been to see him. You had every opportunity and yet you failed to tell me.”

  “Wayne ordered me not to tell you we’d fallen out with him. When I asked why, he said he had something up his sleeve, but it might take months to put into place.”

  “Meaning he was going to kill him, is that it?” Sam suggested.

  Shelley’s hands covered her face and she sobbed. Ian moved around the room, slung an arm around his sister’s shoulders and murmured, “You knew and didn’t say anything, why, Shelley?”

  She shuddered and dropped her hands. “Because I love him. We’re soulmates. We belong together. He’s
the only man who has ever treated me right.”

  “You’re crazy!” Jean spat at her daughter. She was seething, even a blind person could see that. “How could you possibly love a man you knew was going to harm a member of your family? Your own grandfather, for Christ’s sake?”

  “Mum, calm down,” Ian warned.

  Shelley glared at her mother, an intense glare that told Sam this young woman was showing a side to her nature that Jean never knew existed. “Didn’t you hear me? He was intent on cutting me out of his Will. I have rights, a right to keep hold of what belonged to me.”

  Jean flew at her daughter, caught hold of her hair and thumped her in the face. Shelley retaliated and lashed out at her mother.

  “Bob, get Jean away,” Sam ordered. She jumped in amidst the flying fists, getting struck a few times herself in the process.

  Once the women were parted, Sam stood to one side and wagged a finger at both of them. “Fighting like alley cats isn’t going to help. Shelley, were you there when your grandfather was killed?”

  The young woman’s head dipped in shame. “No. I wasn’t.”

  “Were you at the other crime scenes?”

  Shelley’s head shot up again and she scratched the side of her forehead. “What are you talking about? What other crime scenes?”

  Sam thought Shelley seemed genuinely surprised by the question.

  “What are you talking about?” Jean demanded, equally bewildered by the question.

  “We’ve been that busy the last few days, we haven’t had a chance to bring you up to date, Jean, I apologise for the indiscretion. Three of your father’s friends, or should I say neighbours, have also been killed this week. In fact, two neighbours, David and Brenda Chatley and their daughter, Michelle, who I called to be with her mother.”

  Shelley shook her head. “I didn’t know. Don’t go thinking this is to do with Wayne, because it’s not.”

  “How do you know?” Sam was keen to determine.

  “Why do you think it’s him? How did they die?” Shelley snapped back.

  Sam inhaled and exhaled a few deep breaths, trying to remain calm. “David Chatley was abducted and later murdered. His wife and daughter had their throats cut at the farmhouse. Four people, friends in the community, I’m not prepared to put that down to pure coincidence, are you?”