‘Beautiful car, or at least it was,’ Donaldson said.
‘He bought it new about five months ago,’ Corker said.
‘How do you know that?’ Isaac asked.
‘He gave me a ride in it just after he bought it. As I said, he was a decent man as long as you gave him the necessary respect.’
‘His death?’ Donaldson asked. Allerton’s death, regardless of whether he was well-respected or not in the local community, did not affect the fact that he had had information the police wanted. The man knew something, and he had been silenced. The question was who had been responsible and where were they.
‘If the vehicle rolling over before it reached the quarry edge had not killed him, the impact with the quarry floor would have,’ Corker said.
‘Is the body still in the vehicle?’ Isaac asked.
‘It’s still there. We’ll have to cut him out.’
So far, the three men had not approached the vehicle as it was precariously balanced on a rocky outcrop in an area of the quarry deemed unstable. However, they approached gingerly by a route determined as safe by the crime scene investigation team brought in from Derby, the main city in the county.
Isaac crouched down and peered inside. The man who had phoned him was pinned between the steering wheel and the roof.
‘Almost decapitated him,’ the crime scene examiner said.
‘DCI Isaac Cook, Challis Street in London, and this is DCI Len Donaldson, Serious and Organised Crime Command.’
‘Are you saying Allerton was involved with crime?’ the CSE asked.
‘He’s part of an ongoing investigation,’ Isaac admitted.
‘There’s not much more to see here,’ Donaldson said as he marched up and down on the spot, trying to keep the circulation flowing in his legs.
‘Where are the three boys?’ Isaac asked Corker.
‘They're up at Allerton Hall, in the housekeeper’s cottage.’
‘We’d better go and see them. Has Allerton’s wife been informed?’
‘I dealt with it earlier. She took it well.’
‘No tears?’
‘Women like her do not show their emotions.’
***
The four friends were now three, and the agreement made twenty-five years previously was now broken. Four men who would look out for each other, no matter what, and now one of the four had killed another of their group. The news of Allerton’s death had been on social media before the news agencies and the television channels had picked it up.
‘Keith, you’ve had Tim Allerton murdered,’ Griffiths said over the phone.
‘Did you trust him?’ the leader of the group said.
‘He was reluctant, but yes.’
‘The risk was too great.’
For once Jacob Griffiths was speechless. He had seen a flaw in the character of the person he was talking to. The man, even as a boy, had been brilliant but he should have known that the police would double their efforts to find out who had killed a member of the aristocracy. The man was one of the elites of society, not a tramp on the street.
‘You’ve killed one of us,’ Griffiths said.
‘Before he destroyed us.’
‘How long before the whole sorry saga is concluded?’
‘Ten days.’
‘And then?’
‘You will never hear from me again.’
‘You’re leaving Fortescue and me to deal with the aftermath?’
Keith sat down and looked out of the window of his penthouse overlooking the River Thames. He thought of how far he had come, how much he had achieved. It was good that all that he owned had been purchased through offshore companies, and that whatever happened he would be able to realise his assets. It was remarkable, he thought, that he had gone through life being liked, pretending to like others, but the reality was that he cared for no one other than himself. Even that agreement with those silly boys had meant nothing.
Sure, it had ensured they covered for his illegal activities at Eton, and that Fortescue, fool that he was, had ensured his identity had remained unknown when he was swindling some locals in Fortescue’s constituency. If either Griffiths or Fortescue decided to weaken as Allerton had, then their fate would be the same. Keith knew that where he was going, no one would find him. He decided to shorten the ten days to eight, and woe betide anyone who got in his way.
‘Are you listening?’ Griffiths asked.
‘Jacob, my dear friend Jacob. You worry too much. What was Allerton to us? Is your freedom more important than his life?’
‘It was unnecessary.’
‘It no longer matters. I give you my word. There will be no more killings. Ten days is all I ask.’
‘Ten days.’
Jacob Griffiths ended the phone call knowing one thing: Keith had lied through his teeth.
Griffiths called Fortescue to let him know about Allerton and the previous phone call.
‘Good God, we’re done for,’ Fortescue said.
Griffiths could only agree. Keith would be gone, and he would cover his tracks well, but Tim Allerton’s friends and acquaintances would be checked.
‘There’s no hope.’
‘Can you get out of the country?’ Fortescue asked.
‘Not a chance, and I don’t want to. I’ve my businesses and my family here.’
‘But you’ll be arrested.’
‘How about you, Miles?’
‘The same as you. I can’t leave, can’t stay. We’re doomed because we trusted Keith.’
‘It’s hindsight. What can we do?’
‘Nothing, just nothing.’
Chapter 20
The housekeeper’s cottage, located close to the main house, was warm when the two policemen arrived there. Mrs Townsend, the housekeeper, a middle-aged woman, kept the humble abode meticulously clean. ‘It’s so sad,’ she said.
Isaac could see she had been crying. ‘We have a few questions,’ he said.
‘Warm yourself by the fire while I fetch some tea.’ Even though the woman was obviously distraught, she was still able to deal with the basics.
The two men stood in front of the blaze for two minutes until it became too hot.
‘One thing his Lordship appreciated was an open fire. Mind you, it can be perishing cold up in the big house. For me, I’d rather be here, snug and cosy.’
Both men sat down and enjoyed a respite from the investigation.
A uniformed officer came in. ‘The three boys are ready in the other room,’ he said.
‘Thanks,’ Isaac said. ‘Are they okay?’
‘They’re fine now. Their parents are here as well.’
‘Fine,’ Donaldson said. ‘We’ll interview all three at the same time.’
Five minutes later, the boys entered accompanied by two of the parents. Mrs Townsend brought another pot of tea for the police officers and the two parents, hot chocolate for the boys.
‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Isaac Cook and this is Detective Chief Inspector Len Donaldson,’ Isaac said as both men shook hands with the three boys. The parents sat to one side.
‘I’m Billy Smith, this here is Frank Fogarty,’ the first boy said. The third boy, younger than the other two, introduced himself as Terry Smith.
‘He’s my brother,’ Billy said.
All three boys were dressed in clothes designed for the weather: jeans, heavy jackets, and sturdy hiking shoes. Isaac knew he was not.
‘It’s warm in here,’ Billy said as he removed his jacket. The other two boys followed his example.
‘According to Inspector Corker, you all saw the incident when his Lordship’s car went into the quarry.’
‘Uncle Trevor. He’s our uncle,’ Terry Smith said. He did not seem to recognise the seriousness of the matter.
‘Very well,’ Isaac said. ‘According to your uncle, you saw what happened.’
‘We were up here hiking.’
‘Do you do that often?’
‘Sometimes. There’s not much e
lse to do around here.’
‘Tell us what you saw. Billy, maybe you can tell us first, and then after, Frank and Terry can add in anything you missed.’
Billy and Frank acknowledged their understanding of how the interview was to proceed. Young Terry looked out of the window.
‘He’s not all there, our Terry,’ Billy said. Isaac could see that the youngest of the three was drifting. At best, he was an unreliable witness, whereas Billy and Frank seemed to be focussed.
‘Billy, please start.’
‘We were walking up here on a track off to the side of the road. It’s hidden by bushes so no one could see us from the road.’
‘What were you doing up here?’ Donaldson asked.
‘Just walking.’
Donaldson, who had grown up in the country, knew that was not the truth. They were up to mischief. He let it pass. They had bigger issues to deal with.
‘Continue, Billy,’ Isaac said. ‘We’ll not interrupt again,’ giving a subtle hit to Len Donaldson to keep quiet.
‘We’d seen the Land Rover, but we took no notice. Anyway, we carried on up the hill. We could see Lord Allerton coming up the hill in his car, so we ducked down low. We didn’t want him to see us. He slows down to enter his place, and the Land Rover comes out from a track nearby and rams the car. We rushed up the hill to get a closer look.’
‘Did anyone see you?’ Isaac asked. He deemed it was a relevant question to interrupt the young boy.
‘Lord Allerton may have, but the man in the Land Rover didn’t.’
‘I saw him,’ Terry Smith said.
‘Who?’ Isaac asked.
‘The man in the Land Rover.’
‘Don’t listen to him,’ his elder brother said. ‘He makes up stories.’
‘I still need to hear it,’ Isaac said.
‘He was a little man.’
‘Anything else?’
‘He had tattoos on his arms. I could see that, even if Billy thinks I’m lying. Mister, I’m telling the truth.’
‘I believe you,’ Isaac said, the description suspiciously similar to a prime suspect.
‘He had a gun,’ Frank Fogarty said.
‘Could you identify it?’ Isaac asked.
‘No. We only heard it being fired.’
‘That correlates with what they found at the crime scene,’ Donaldson said.
‘Then what happened?’ Isaac asked.
‘The Land Rover pushes Lord Allerton’s car off the side of the road,’ Frank Fogarty said.
‘We could see the man shouting,’ Billy Smith added.
‘Who?’
‘Lord Allerton.’
‘Then what?’
‘We rushed up here and phoned the police.’
‘Is there any more you can tell us?’ Isaac asked.
‘Nothing. The Land Rover drove off, that’s all,’
‘Did you get a registration number?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘I did,’ Terry Smith said.
‘What was it?’
‘Is there a reward?’ the young boy asked. Isaac realised he had probably been fed a diet of American cop shows on the television.
‘We’ll arrange something,’ Isaac said. He’d let Uncle Trevor deal with that.
‘HDE 59F,’ Terry blurted out. Isaac had to admit if the boy was a little slow for his age, at least his ability to remember car registrations was unbeatable.
Isaac picked up his phone and dialled Bridget back in Challis Street. He then called his DI and his sergeant to follow up on the car and its occupant.
***
There was one more interview to conduct before Isaac and Donaldson returned to London. They found Lady Allerton in the main house. Mrs Townsend had taken them over. It was apparent that the two women were fond of each other.
After a few minutes when the two women comforted each other, the housekeeper left. Isaac looked around the room; it was magnificent. It wasn’t the first stately home he had been in, but it was one of the best. Apart from the portraits on the walls, there were hunting trophies from a bygone age and an elephant’s foot footstool near the fireplace. Isaac did not like the idea of it but did not comment.
‘My husband was a good man,’ Lady Allerton said. She was dressed conservatively in black.
‘I’m very sorry about this,’ Isaac said, ‘but I must ask some questions.’
Isaac remembered Inspector Corker’s statement that women such as Lady Allerton keep their emotions in check. The man had been right, as the woman maintained her composure.
‘Thank you. I believe his body has been removed,’ she said.
‘You will be required to formally identify your late husband. Will that be acceptable?’ Donaldson asked.
‘Perfectly acceptable.’ Given that her husband had just died, Isaac marvelled at the woman’s self-control. Not only had she maintained a steady voice devoid of emotion, but she had also managed to order tea for all three. A woman entered carrying the tray.
‘Lily, please pour,’ Lady Allerton said. It was the first opportunity that Isaac had to study the woman. He knew from Bridget’s check of Burke’s Peerage that she was forty-two. She was slim and well proportioned. Isaac, a man with an eye for beauty, could only declare her beautiful.
Donaldson, if asked, would have said that he had taken no notice, and that after his wife had taken off with his best friend, he had given women a wide berth.
‘I must ask,’ Isaac said.
‘Please do. I will answer your questions to the best of my ability.’
‘Do you know the reason for your husband’s death?’
‘No.’
‘Are you aware that he was in London?’
‘He told me he had some business there.’
‘Did he tell you what kind of business?’
‘I did not ask. My husband is free to conduct his affairs without an inquisitive wife.’
‘Affairs?’ Donaldson asked.
‘Not the sort you are referring to. My husband did not become involved with other women.’
‘He phoned me earlier today,’ Isaac said. ‘Do you know why?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
Isaac thought he had seen her move imperceptibly in her chair. The woman was distraught; it could be the only logical reaction after the man she had shared a bed with for the last twenty years had died violently not three hours before. It was clear that she believed in a stiff upper lip, especially in front of the staff, and especially in front of two police inspectors. He gave her the benefit of the doubt and a willingness to accept all that she told them as true.
‘Lady Allerton, do you believe your husband capable of an illegal act?’ Donaldson asked.
‘Timothy? No way. You’d never meet a more honest man.’ Lady Allerton was firm in her rejection of Donaldson’s aspersion.
‘My apologies if I offended you.’
‘Your apology is accepted.’
‘But we have reason to believe that he was.’
‘How dare you come into my house and accuse my husband, a man who died only a few hours ago, of criminal activity.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Isaac said, ‘but he phoned to tell me he wanted to confess.’
‘Go, please go. I will not speak to you anymore without my lawyer being present. My husband was a good man, adored by his wife and his children. Your accusations are scurrilous.’
‘I’m sorry to be impolite,’ Isaac said, knowing full well that their time at Allerton Hall was about to conclude. ‘A vehicle intentionally ran your husband’s car off the road. It’s not a random hit and miss, it’s murder. The question is why?’
Outside the house, Donaldson spoke. ‘At least she was polite enough when she showed us the door.’
‘Too polite,’ Isaac replied.
‘Do you believe her?’
‘I want to, but she could be lying through her teeth.’
‘Why?’
‘She’s aristocracy. Don’t try to reason it too closely. They
run with a different set of moral barometers: position and respect are more important than the mere machinations of a murder inquiry.’
‘Are you saying that if she knew something, she’d keep quiet just to protect the good name of the Allertons?’ Donaldson asked.
‘Yes,’ Isaac replied.
***
Bridget traced the Land Rover with no difficulty: a 2007 Defender.
The timing of Allerton’s death indicated that someone knew of his movements. And the two officers were familiar with the description of the driver. If it was who they thought it was, then he was in the north and possibly nearby, although that was far from conclusive.
‘We need to find Walters,’ Larry said to Wendy.
‘Easier said than done.’
‘Someone knew how to contact him.’
‘No one we know.’
‘Allerton may have. Do we have his phone?’
Larry called Isaac as he was about to leave the Allerton property. ‘We need Lord Allerton’s phone.’
‘I’ll see what I can do. We’re off to see Terry Smith, the youngest of the three boys, again. He’s at his home in the village not far from here. He’s been correct with the vehicle's registration; he may be able to tell us more.’
Isaac phoned Inspector Corker after ending his call with Larry. ‘Do you have Allerton’s phone?’ he asked.
‘Yes. It’s still working.’
‘I need it.’
‘It’s evidence. You’ll need authority.’
‘I’ll get it.’
Isaac phoned Goddard, his senior, explained the situation. Within fifteen minutes the phone was released.
‘Quick work there,’ Corker said.
‘We’re off to see Terry Smith. Can you bring the phone to his house?’
‘No problems. Terry’s the hero.’
‘He was accurate with the vehicle. We need to see if he can assist in proving who I think the driver is.’
‘It’ll do him good to be the centre of attention. The other children tease him mercilessly, but he’s harmless, just slow. Oxygen starvation at birth.’
‘You owe him a reward,’ Isaac said.
‘Do I?’
‘I promised him one. You’ll need to deal with it.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.’
The DCI Isaac Cook Thriller Series: Books 4 - 6: Murder (The DCI Isaac Cook Thrillers Series Boxset) Page 18
