by Frank Smith
Holbrook continued to stare at Paget. He appeared to be shaken by the news. Colour had receded from his face, and his head began to move from side to side in a gesture of denial. ‘I find that very hard to believe,’ he said when he found his voice. He coughed to clear his throat. ‘Very hard indeed. Are you quite certain of your facts?’
‘Quite certain,’ Paget assured him.
Holbrook drew a deep breath. ‘Assuming that is the case,’ he said heavily, ‘I suppose I have no choice about letting you search our home, but I don’t know what you expect to find here in the office.’ His voice gathered strength as he went on. ‘Much of that information is highly confidential, and I don’t want someone from outside poking through the files for no good reason.’
‘The fact that your wife was murdered is reason enough,’ said Paget, ‘so we have to cover every possibility. There could be emails, memos, correspondence that may or may not be work-related, and possibly a personal diary in there. Our people are professionals who have done this sort of thing many times, so I can assure you that your business will not be compromised.’
Holbrook glowered. ‘I’ll need to see a warrant before anyone touches anything,’ he warned.
‘You will,’ Paget assured him.
‘Is that it, then? Is that what you came to tell me?’
‘I would like to confirm some of the things you told me last Saturday, particularly about your nephew,’ Paget said.
A hard look came into Holbrook’s eyes. ‘I heard you had been to the house looking for Tim,’ he said coldly, ‘but you’re wasting your time. Tim couldn’t do a thing like that. I know him. I suppose in your eyes the very fact that he and Laura had a row the other day makes him a suspect, but I’m telling you it’s ludicrous to think that he would go so far as to kill Laura. As I told you, if Tim was going to kill anyone, it is much more likely it would be me.’
‘Perhaps not,’ said Paget. ‘If it had been you rather than your wife who died, she would have been the beneficiary, and by all accounts that would have left Mr Bryce out in the cold. But now that your wife is gone, I suspect that your nephew might become a beneficiary if something should happen to you, especially if you manage to patch up your differences.’
‘That,’ Holbrook snapped, ‘is not only absurd, it is pure speculation on your part. And for your information, while it’s true that the business assets would have gone to Laura, Tim would have been well provided for, and he has always known that.’
‘Still, since you did side with your wife when he was sacked, he might not have been so confident that he would remain a beneficiary. However,’ Paget continued before Holbrook could interject, ‘as you say, it is speculation, but it is something we have to take into consideration. Tell me, did your nephew work much overtime while he was employed here? Evenings or weekends?’
Holbrook snorted. ‘Tim? Overtime?’ he said. ‘Where did you get that idea? Of course he didn’t work overtime. It pains me to say this, but the reason we had to let him go was because he seemed to think he could come and go as he pleased; he had the idea that just turning up for work was sufficient reason for him to be paid. Wherever did you get the idea that he worked overtime?’
Paget countered the question with another of his own. ‘How deeply was he involved in the research and development side of your projects?’
Holbrook’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I don’t know where you’re getting this from, but Tim was never involved in that side of the business. No doubt he thought he should be, but he was a programmer. The stuff he was working on was administrative, office management procedures, internal stuff, developing new forms and formats to meet our changing needs. With her background as a forensic accountant, Laura insisted on having records of absolutely everything, and as I think I told you the other day, Tim worked for Laura – well, strictly speaking, Peggy was his immediate boss, but it was Laura who had the final say. The trouble was, he took too many liberties and she couldn’t rely on him. I thought I’d made that plain the other day.’
‘You did, sir,’ Paget agreed, ‘but we received a rather different view of things when we spoke to Ms Craig on Saturday.’
‘Sally? Ah!’ Holbrook nodded slowly as he sat back in his chair. ‘So that’s it, is it? I should have guessed. I don’t know what she’s been telling you,’ he said, ‘but I wouldn’t be too surprised to find that she thinks Tim was pretty well in here. As I said, I only met the girl once, but I got the impression then that she thought Tim had a pretty important job here, and I saw no point in disillusioning her if it made her happy to think that.’
‘If you’ve only met your nephew’s partner once, does that mean that you and Tim haven’t been getting along for some time?’
Holbrook didn’t answer immediately, distracted momentarily as Molly Forsythe shifted in her seat and recrossed her legs before settling down again with her notebook in her lap. His eyes lingered there for a moment, then moved on as he became aware that she was watching him. He smiled, and with the faintest of shrugs, swung back to face Paget.
‘Look, Chief Inspector,’ he said with an air of taking Paget into his confidence, ‘I’ll be honest with you. Tim and I haven’t really had much to say to each other since he came out of university where he barely scraped through. He’s had several jobs since then, but either left or was let go for one reason or another. As for his liaison with Sally Craig, I was led to believe that they were married, but if they were I certainly wasn’t invited to the wedding, so I doubt it. Nor have I ever been invited to their home. But as I told you the other day, he is still my nephew, so when he asked me for a job I felt I should at least give him a chance, and you know how that turned out. I’ll admit the boy has faults, but he is not a killer.
‘So, if that’s all, Chief Inspector,’ he said brusquely, ‘I really must get on.’
Paget remained seated. ‘Just one more thing before we go,’ he said. ‘In your statement you said that you and Mr Ballantyne stopped for a drink at the Fox and Hounds before going across the street to see the film last Wednesday evening. You also mentioned that the landlord there is a friend of yours. Did you see him that evening? Speak to him, perhaps? I’m sure you understand that we have to check out everyone’s statement, so it will simplify matters if he can confirm that you were there that night.’
The colour that had been absent returned swiftly to Holbrook’s face. ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ he groaned. ‘I’ve had enough of this. You have my statement, and you have Trevor’s statement about where we were. Isn’t that enough?’
‘All I’m looking for is confirmation, Mr Holbrook. It’s standard procedure, and it’s a simple question: did you speak to your friend that evening?’
Holbrook eyed Paget for a long moment then shook his head. ‘No,’ he said at last, ‘I did not speak to Bill that evening, as it happens. They were busy; there was a crowd around the bar, and we were only in there for a short time before the show. Besides, it was Trevor’s turn to buy the drinks, so he’s the one who went to the bar while I found a table, and we only had one drink, so you can make what you like out of that!’
‘Thank you, Mr Holbrook,’ Paget said as he got to his feet. ‘That is all I wanted to know. There’s no need to see us out, because we have arranged to talk to Miss Goodwin before we leave.’
Holbrook scowled. ‘Peggy? Why do you want to talk to her?’
‘For the same reason we’ve been talking to you and Miss Chase,’ Paget told him. ‘And we will keep you informed of any progress,’ he concluded.
Holbrook nodded absently, his eyes on Molly as she smoothed her skirt carefully and stood up. ‘You’ve been very quiet, Miss Forsythe,’ he said lightly. ‘Don’t you have any questions?’
‘Detective Constable, actually,’ Molly corrected, matching his bantering tone, ‘and I do have a question, if you don’t mind?’
‘Not at all,’ Holbrook said expansively. His whole attitude underwent a subtle change as he came out from behind his desk to stan
d close to Molly. ‘What’s your question?’
‘You said you’d heard that the police had been to Mr Bryce’s house, and I wondered who told you that since you don’t appear to be on regular speaking terms with your nephew or with Sally Craig?’
‘Sally rang me,’ he said. ‘She was afraid that Tim might be arrested, and she wanted me to intervene.’
‘In what way?’
‘That wasn’t exactly clear,’ Holbrook said with a wry smile, ‘but there was another reason for her call, which was to ask me – actually, to plead with me – to take Tim back.’ In a seemingly natural gesture of courtesy, he took Molly by the elbow as he steered her toward the door. ‘Unfortunately, I had to tell her I couldn’t do that, which, as you might expect, did not go over well, so I very much doubt if I shall be hearing from her again.’
Thirteen
‘First impressions, Constable?’ Paget asked quietly as they walked the short distance to Peggy Goodwin’s office.
‘I didn’t get any sense of grief,’ she told him. ‘Of course, I could be wrong; perhaps he’s just very good at hiding his true feelings.’
‘Not when it comes to women,’ Paget said drily. ‘But I suspect you deduced that for yourself.’
Peggy Goodwin met them at the office door. Clearly Holbrook had alerted her as soon as they left his office. She ushered them inside, saw them settled in their seats, then sat down to face them across her desk. Molly took out her notebook and opened it to a new page.
Peggy Goodwin’s office was smaller than the one Paget and Molly had just left, but the difference was like night and day. Everything was arranged neatly and in its proper place, and apart from a solid stack of papers in both the in and out trays, and a telephone on her desk, the surface was not just clean – it was polished.
‘Now,’ said Peggy briskly, ‘perhaps you will be good enough to tell me what this is all about, Chief Inspector. I really don’t understand what I can do for you, unless, of course, it has something to do with the company.’
‘Then I’ll explain,’ said Paget, and went on to tell her much the same as he had told Simon Holbrook, concluding with, ‘So we believe that Laura Holbrook was the intended victim all along.’
The expression on Peggy Goodwin’s face turned to one of concern as she absorbed the news. ‘Oh, my God,’ she breathed softly as Paget fell silent. ‘The fact that Laura was killed was hard enough to take, but this must be devastating for poor Simon.’ Her brows drew together in a puzzled frown. ‘Are you quite sure of your . . .?’ She cut herself off with an impatient wave of the hand. ‘But I suppose you must be, or you wouldn’t be telling me this, would you? But to be honest, Chief Inspector, I’m finding it very hard to take this in.’
Simon Holbrook seemed to attract, and be attracted to, good-looking women, thought Paget as he watched Peggy Goodwin’s reaction. The late Laura Holbrook had been something of a beauty herself, according to the pictures he’d seen of her. Her sister, Susan Chase, was also very attractive, as was the other female member of the badminton team, Moira Ballantyne.
And now Peggy Goodwin. It was hard to judge her age, because there was a fullness to her features that made her look younger than she probably was. Middle thirties, perhaps?
‘From what Mr Holbrook told me,’ Peggy continued, ‘I didn’t think there was any doubt that Laura was killed by someone who broke into the house, so this comes as a complete shock. And quite frankly, I don’t see how you think I can help you.’
‘With background, mainly,’ Paget told her. ‘Now, according to the information I have, this company was on the verge of bankruptcy when Mrs Holbrook, or perhaps I should say, Mrs Southern, came in, and it was due largely to her efforts, together with a substantial investment of capital, that turned it around and made it what it is today. Would that be a fair statement, Miss Goodwin?’
‘I suppose it is,’ she said.
It was a grudging admission at best, thought Paget, and perhaps a glimpse into the relationship between the two women.
‘We were struggling, and we were in financial trouble. We had the products and we had the expertise – Simon’s work is well known throughout the industry – but once we left Drexler-Davies and struck out on our own, it became a classic example of Catch 22. Buyers were reluctant to put their business our way until they were satisfied that we were going to survive as a separate company, but we couldn’t survive without their business. Our research and development costs, as well as general overheads, were escalating, but we had very little coming in. Lots of people expressed interest in what we were doing, and they were impressed with some of the pioneering work Simon has done, but they weren’t buying. We needed money to stay afloat, and we needed someone with marketing and sales experience, and Laura had both.’
‘But at what cost, I wonder?’ Paget said. ‘There must have been quite an upheaval; quite a change in direction. In effect, a total stranger was coming in to tell you how to run your company. That must have been very hard to take.’
‘It was,’ Peggy agreed candidly. ‘We were like a family here, and there was a great deal of resentment at Laura coming in off the street, as it were, and taking over. But, like it or not, we had to face the fact that it was better than losing our jobs, and that’s all in the past now.’
‘What about you, personally, Miss Goodwin? I understand that you had been working very closely with Mr Holbrook until then, so how did you feel about this upheaval?’
The corners of Peggy Goodwin’s mouth turned down. ‘How do you think I felt, Chief Inspector?’ she asked softly. ‘Ask anyone around here and they will tell you how I felt. To be truthful, I was mad as hell! Which was why I handed in my resignation.’
‘But you’re still here. What changed your mind?’
Peggy shrugged. ‘Simon talked me round, and now I’m glad he did, because it turned out to be the shot in the arm we needed. Business picked up; there was enough money available to hire more staff, and it was a real boost to morale when we moved from our old quarters into this building, and for the first time in years I was no longer working sixteen hours a day.’
‘Even so, it must have been very hard to go from being in charge to taking orders from a newcomer,’ said Paget sympathetically.
Peggy smiled wryly. ‘Oohhhh, yes,’ she said with feeling. ‘And what was really hard to accept was that, because I had been the one running the administrative side of the business, it fell to me to bring Laura up to speed. Simon took on the task of teaching her what she needed to know about his side of the business, but as for the rest of it, that was left up to me, and you’re quite right, I wasn’t very happy about having to do that. But, to give him his due, Simon recognized how difficult it had made things for me, so he took some of the sting out of it by raising my salary. That didn’t sit well with Laura, who said the firm couldn’t afford it, but Simon held firm on that one, and even Laura had to admit she needed me.’
‘And all this took place two-and-a-half to three years ago?’
‘That’s right.’
‘What about the rest of the staff? How did it affect them?’
‘People grumbled, of course, because Laura completely changed a lot of the things we’d been doing for years, but that’s always the response to change in the workplace, and it didn’t last long.’
‘How would you summarize your own relationship with Mrs Holbrook in recent times?’ Paget asked.
Peggy smiled. ‘Businesslike,’ Peggy said crisply. ‘We respected each other, but that was it. You have to understand, Laura kept everyone at arm’s length; everything was business with her, and to give her her due, she was good at her job, but as for friends . . .?’ She shook her head. ‘She knew a lot of people, but I’m not sure she had any real friends.’
‘Can you tell me where you were last Wednesday evening, Miss Goodwin?’
‘Wednesday? The night Laura was . . .? You’re serious, aren’t you?’ Peggy drew a long breath and looked off into the distance. ‘I was at home that n
ight,’ she said. ‘At least most of the time. I did go out briefly about eight, I think it was. There’s a corner shop that stays open until nine, and I went down there to pick up one or two things for the morning. Bran flakes, orange juice, things like that. I don’t know if Mr Lee will remember me or not, but you can ask him. He knows who I am, because I’ve been going in there for years.’
‘And where do you live?’
‘I have a flat in Caledonia Street.’
‘Would there be anyone else who could verify that you were there that evening?’
A flicker of irritation crossed Peggy’s pleasant features. ‘I’m afraid not,’ she said. ‘I live alone.’
‘What about phone calls?’ Paget asked. ‘Did you make or receive any that night?’
‘I didn’t make any, but I did receive one from Simon. He phoned to tell me that Laura had one of her migraines and wouldn’t be in next morning. He said she had a meeting with a client next morning, and he asked me to call first thing and let the client know she wouldn’t be able to make it.’
‘Do you remember what time that was?’ asked Paget.
‘Seven – seven-thirty, perhaps. I don’t remember exactly, but it was around that time.’
‘Did he happen to say where he was calling from?’
‘Not exactly. He said that he and Trevor Ballantyne, a friend of his, were on their way to see a film. He’s a bit of a film buff,’ she confided, ‘especially sci-fi stuff.’
‘Why would he call you then?’ asked Paget. ‘Couldn’t he have told you that in the morning?’
‘He could,’ Peggy agreed, ‘but Simon is like that. If he happens to think of something that needs to be done, he just picks up the phone and calls.’
‘We’ll try not to keep you too much longer,’ Paget told her as he saw her glance surreptitiously at her watch, ‘but I would like to know what will happen here now that Mrs Holbrook is gone? And what this will do to your own position?’
