‘And what about this door, the one into the hall?’
‘Well, maybe. But Lindsay might have left that one open. She sometimes did, if I was out. She knew I’d close it when I came home and went to bed. Only I didn’t …’
‘I know. I’m sorry if this distresses you, sir. Just one last thing. Were you aware of anyone hanging around near the house in the days before the fire? Did any of the neighbours mention someone asking questions about you and your family?’
‘No, nothing like that.’
Fry nodded at the liaison officer, who came forward and put an arm round Mullen’s shoulders.
‘I tested the smoke alarm every month,’ said Mullen, with some difficulty.
‘By pressing the button?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you realize that it only tests the sound of the alarm, not whether the detector itself is functioning?’
Mullen looked paler than ever. ‘No, I didn’t know that.’
Fry watched him for a few moments, but felt no nearer to getting inside his mind.
‘I’ll give you a lift to Darley Dale,’ she said. ‘That’s where you want to go, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, to my parents-in-law.’
When she’d got him in the car, Fry let him sit quietly for a while as they drove across Edendale. Many people would feel uncomfortable with the silence and want to make conversation. But not Brian Mullen. She left him to stew until they were out of town and heading towards the A6.
‘Tell me about the arguments you’d been having with your wife,’ she said.
‘What arguments?’ said Mullen.
‘According to your neighbours, there had been several rows between the two of you in recent weeks.’
He shook his head. ‘We had a row about the new carpet, that’s all. I didn’t think it was the most practical thing with three kids in the house. And I didn’t like the idea of Henry buying things for us all the time, either. I told Lindsay I could support my own family without his help.’
‘Yes?’
‘But she got her own way in the end. She could never say no to Daddy when he wanted to give her something. So it wasn’t much of an argument.’ Mullen twisted in his seat to look at her. ‘Is that what you meant?’
‘And the rest.’
‘No, no. We never had rows, as a rule.’
‘That’s not what I heard.’
‘Well, you’ve got it wrong.’
They entered Bakewell, and Fry had to concentrate as she negotiated the narrow streets and the busy roundabout in the middle of town. She was able to relax again as they approached the entrance to Haddon Hall. But there were only a few miles left now.
‘You told me earlier that Lindsay and her brother were very close,’ she said. ‘That can be a difficult relationship for a husband to deal with sometimes. How do you get on with John Lowther?’
‘Fine. Just fine.’
‘Not even a hint of jealousy, perhaps? If John bought presents for your children, it would be natural for a bit of resentment to creep in.’
‘Any resentment wasn’t on my side,’ said Mullen.
‘Ah. So you think your brother-in-law begrudged someone coming between him and the sister he was so close to? I can see how that might cause friction in the household. Did your arguments concern John?’
‘You’ve still got it wrong. And whoever told you that has got it wrong, too.’
And that was the last thing she got out of him. Mullen remained silent and sullen all the way to Darley Dale. Now and then, he glanced anxiously out of the window at people passing on the pavement, and once he gave a sudden start when a car pulled alongside them at the traffic lights. Fry had no idea what he was so worried about, but she didn’t think it could be her driving.
Finally, she dropped him off outside the Lowthers’ gate, and he thanked her ungraciously. Fry watched as Moira Lowther came out of the bungalow and hugged Brian near the chiminea. That was just like Mrs Lowther. Very keen on hugging people.
Instead of heading straight back to West Street, Fry decided to call at the mortuary to collect the pathologist’s report. Mrs van Doon was in her office and greeted her visitor personally.
‘Yes, all three of your victims had carboxyhaemoglobin levels over fifty per cent — which is sufficient in itself to account for death. Levels of up to ten per cent would be normal, anything more indicates inhalation of carbon monoxide. I believe there might also have been hydrogen cyanide present in the fumes from the fire. That’s a particularly potent toxin, with a rapid action.’
‘Where would that come from?’ asked Fry.
‘Hydrogen cyanide? It’s produced by materials which contain nitrogen — wool, silk. And polyurethane.’
‘Polyurethane, as in furniture foam?’
‘Yes, possibly.’
‘Which of those would explain why three people failed to escape from a house fire when they were woken by the smoke?’
‘Hypoxia resulting from high carbon monoxide levels. At the levels present in these individuals, I’d say they would certainly have been feeling ill and disorientated at the least. They might even have been unconscious.’
‘But we’re sure they died as a result of the fire?’
‘Yes. Soot particles can stain the mouth and pharynx of a person who’s already dead, but if soot is present beyond the vocal cords it means the victim was alive during the fire.’
The pathologist produced a photograph. It was meaningless to Fry, which was probably for the best.
‘All three post-mortems showed evidence of soot in the airways. The two children also had it in the oesophagus and stomach. Those black streaks on the mucus of the trachea indicate that your victims were alive at the start of the fire. Alive, but not necessarily conscious.’
The waitress from the Riber Tea Rooms had arrived at West Street to be guided through the process of producing some e-fit pictures of the people Rose Shepherd had met in Matlock Bath the day before she died. She did her best, but she wasn’t sure about the details.
‘Thank you for coming in anyway, Tina,’ Murfin was saying as Fry walked in.
‘It’s not much use, is it?’
‘You did your best.’
‘I’m really sorry. I wanted to help.’
‘Don’t worry about it. But if you happen to remember anything else, you will let us know, won’t you?’
Fry turned, and saw Cooper, watching the waitress leave.
‘Didn’t she give us much?’ she asked.
‘I’ve only just got back myself. But Gavin says we ended up with something as vague as her descriptions were: a woman in her thirties, a man who could have been any age, because she hadn’t really taken much notice of him. It was Rose Shepherd herself that Tina remembers best.’
‘Two adults — one male, one female. Who could they have been? There aren’t many possibilities cropping up in the Shepherd enquiry so far. I suppose there’s either set of next-door neighbours, the Birtlands or the Ridgeways …’
‘Frances Birtland works in Matlock Bath,’ said Cooper. ‘She has a part-time job at the Masson Mill shopping village. But she’s well past her thirties.’
‘Still, it’s a connection of a kind. How far is it from Masson Mill to the tea rooms?’
‘Half a mile or so.’
‘Close enough for her to have nipped out for an hour.’
‘Her employer would have to cover for her, in that case.’
Fry nodded. ‘True. It’s getting a bit complicated for a chat over the teacups. And we’d have to place her husband in Matlock Bath, too. According to your interview report, his health isn’t too good.’
‘There is another couple we might consider,’ said Cooper. ‘Though we’ve only had contact with one of them so far.’
‘Who do you mean?’
‘Eric Grice and his sister. She lives in Foxlow. And Grice is the one person who knew Miss Shepherd and has actually been inside Bain House.’
‘You’re right,’ said Fry. ‘We o
ught to ask one or both of them what they were doing on Saturday, if only so we can eliminate them.’
‘We’ll have to wait to speak to the sister. Grice says she’s in Jersey.’
‘What did you make of this handyman? Do you think he was telling the truth?’
‘Of course not. I bet he was all over that house like a rash, given half a chance. Imagine — the whole village is speculating about the mysterious occupant of Bain House, and our Eric is the only one with access to the place and the chance to talk to her. There must have been all kinds of things he noticed.’
‘He’s just not ready to tell us yet, right?’
‘But he will,’ said Cooper.
‘Do you think he could have seen something relevant to the shooting?’
Cooper hesitated. ‘Well, he might be able to point us in the direction of a motive. Or of somebody with a connection to Rose Shepherd, at least. That’s what we’re lacking right now, isn’t it?’
‘If it was any of the people from Foxlow who met Rose Shepherd in the tea rooms, it means they’ve been lying to us.’
‘Yes. But it seems more likely that it was someone else entirely. Two people that we just haven’t come across yet.’
Fry could see that Murfin was on his way back from showing the waitress out, and she needed to speak to him. But Cooper hadn’t finished yet.
‘Diane, there’s a lot of effort going into the Shepherd enquiry,’ he said. ‘But you’re not getting much support in the Mullen case, are you?’
‘I don’t need it. As long as they leave me alone and don’t throw me too many distractions.’
‘A triple death? Two of them children?’
‘These are two very different crimes, Ben. The Shepherd killing was a ruthless, professional act by a very dangerous individual, but someone who might have no direct connection to the victim. He’ll take a lot of effort to track down, and even more work to build a successful case against. But the Mullen enquiry — those killings were personal. The answer will be much closer to home. And that’s the big difference.’
18
Later, at her desk, Fry finished reading the pathologist’s report on the Mullen family. She could hear Mrs van Doon’s voice in her head, describing how the hot gases had damaged the lining of the airways and lungs, leaving the tongue, pharynx, and glottis scorched and inflamed. Damage to the lungs had precipitated pulmonary oedema. Inhalation of carbon particles blocked the air passages with mucus. Any burns on the victims were post-mortem. They had been alive, but not necessarily conscious.
Finally, she put the report aside. Forensics would have to give her something to build a case on. It was difficult not to get impatient, though, when Brian Mullen was out of hospital and walking around. She pictured him sitting in the conservatory at the Lowthers’ bungalow, with his mother-in-law fussing round him, bringing him cups of tea, giving him a hug when he needed it.
Hesitating only for a moment, Fry picked up the phone and called Wayne Abbott.
‘There’s a lot of stuff to get through, you know. And the Darwin Street enquiry isn’t the only one we’re dealing with.’
‘I realize that, Wayne, but I need to know whether you found any fingerprints in the sitting room.’
‘The only ones we could retrieve came from members of the family. We were lucky to get what we did, considering the fire and smoke damage, and the amount of waterlogging.’
‘Did you lift any from the wooden toy — the dinosaur?’
‘I’m afraid not. It was too badly charred.’
‘And the lighter fluid can?’
‘That’s gone to the lab at Wetherby. They’re giving it the works, but it takes time.’
‘Is that our best hope, Wayne?’
‘Right now, yes. Unless you can produce a likely suspect.’
‘Thanks.’
She finished the call and looked around the office. Everyone was busy with tasks connected to the Rose Shepherd enquiry. Everyone. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t demand a bit of their time.
‘Hey, Ben, would you take a look at this?’
‘What have you got?’ said Cooper from across the room.
But before Fry could show him the photo of the toy dinosaur, her phone rang. It was pretty much a one-way conversation: ‘Great, OK … I see. Yes, sir, right away.’
Cooper was still hovering at his desk when she finished. ‘What’s up?’
‘The DCI wants us in for a meeting, right now. HOLMES has finished processing Rose Shepherd’s diary, address book and the other documents found in her house. Remember the mysterious “SN” mentioned in the diary? There’s only one name in her papers with matching initials: Simon Nichols.’
‘Simon Nichols …’ said Cooper, responding to a vague familiarity.
‘That’s it. Does it mean anything to you?’
‘Isn’t he in Fairport Convention?’
‘In what?’
‘It’s a band. Folk rock.’
‘Oh, right. You think Rose Shepherd might have been a folk rock groupie?’
‘No, it must be another Simon Nichols.’
‘HOLMES can’t give us any clues as to who this Simon Nichols is, or where we can find him. But the incident room are checking all the usual intelligence. There’s also a team going through all other sources: phone directory, electoral roll, DVLC … We need to track down any Nichols in the area.’
‘In the area?’ said Cooper. ‘He isn’t necessarily — ’
‘I know. But we’ve got to start somewhere. We should start getting results soon. Meanwhile, does anybody have any thoughts?’
‘Whoever killed Rose Shepherd didn’t enter the house, so far as we can tell,’ said Hitchens. ‘So we can conclude that he wasn’t worried about there being evidence in the house that would lead us to him.’
‘That assumes the crime was carefully thought out beforehand.’
‘It looks that way.’
‘Of course, it might only have been the shooting and the getaway that were planned,’ suggested Cooper. ‘If he thought of killing Rose Shepherd as a way of solving some problem, he might have overlooked what would happen once her body was found.’
‘Perhaps he knew there was nothing in the house that could lead back to him,’ said Hitchens. ‘If Miss Shepherd didn’t know him, if he was a hired professional, there’d be no direct connection between him and his victim.’
‘That’s logical,’ said Kessen. ‘But there’s one other alternative.’
‘Yes?’
‘What if he’d already searched the house and removed anything incriminating? Then he’d feel able to carry out the killing from a safe distance.’
‘Well, it could explain why there are no personal letters in the house. But who would have the opportunity to do that? The security at Bain House was too tight, and Miss Shepherd was rarely off the premises.’
‘What we need is a motive to narrow the field a bit. Any suggestions? I suppose we can discount robbery, since there was no attempt to enter the house.’
‘Money could still be a motive,’ said Hitchens. ‘If there’s a will — ’
‘There doesn’t seem to be one in the house. It’s possible there’s a solicitor somewhere with a will, but the London firm who handled the house purchase say they have no knowledge of it.’
Fry smiled. ‘If there’s someone out there who planned this murder in order to inherit Rose Shepherd’s money, they’ll come forward eventually, won’t they?’
‘Eventually? That won’t do. We need to be able to show some progress on this enquiry pretty quickly,’ snapped Kessen.
‘OK, what other motives might we consider?’
‘Jealousy? Revenge? Perhaps Rose Shepherd was a threat to someone?’ suggested Fry.
‘Jealousy requires some kind of close personal relationship,’ said Hitchens. ‘Miss Shepherd doesn’t seem to have had any of those. Not recently, anyway.’
‘What about this Eric Grice?’
‘Grice, the handyman? What abo
ut him?’
‘He seems to be the only person who was allowed into Bain House, the only one who had any contact with Miss Shepherd. I wonder if there was more to their relationship than a bit of odd-jobbing.’
‘Well, they were both unmarried, so that shouldn’t have been a problem. A bit on the mature side, perhaps, but I’m told that doesn’t necessarily make any difference.’
‘Judging by her obsession with keeping herself to herself, she would probably have rejected any attempts at intimacy out of hand. For all we know of Grice, he might not be the type to take that calmly,’ said Fry.
‘But if he crossed the line in some way, Miss Shepherd would have kicked him out, surely. Yet she let him keep coming to the house, didn’t she?’
‘Did she? How do we know that?’
‘Only from Grice himself,’ admitted Cooper.
‘When does he say he was last at Bain House?’
‘Three weeks ago, to clear the guttering and sweep up dead leaves.’
‘Well, we know for a fact that he had contact with Rose Shepherd, which puts him in a very small minority for now. And he must have known which room she slept in. What sort of vehicle does he drive?’ said Hitchens.
‘He has an old Land Rover that he carries his tools around in.’
‘Four-wheel drive?’
‘Of course. But Grice says he was always restricted to certain parts of the house. It sounded convincing,’ said Cooper.
‘Maybe,’ said Fry. ‘But that just means he was limited to one area per visit. How many times did he go to Bain House?’
‘Five or six times, he says.’
‘Enough opportunity to work his way through the whole house?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Besides, we only have his word for how restricted his movements were. Miss Shepherd isn’t available to confirm his story.’
‘Right,’ said Kessen. ‘Let’s take a closer look at Mr Grice. Get a detailed account of his last visit to Rose Shepherd. And check whether the tyres on his Land Rover are a match for the tracks from the field.’
‘We don’t actually have any evidence against Grice,’ pointed out Cooper.
‘If he isn’t implicated in the shooting, he won’t mind co-operating, will he?’
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