‘What’s that?’
‘It’s a surprise. Let’s plan our strategy for this morning.’ He glanced round the dining room; there were still a few people there and none of them appeared to be taking any notice of anyone else, but he was careful to give nothing away as he said, ‘What time have you arranged to meet your, er, opposite number?’
‘Half past ten. Is that OK with you?’
‘Whatever you say; by the way, are you happy to have dinner here?’
‘If the dinners are as good as that breakfast, I’m more than happy.’
‘Good. I’ll book it with Mrs Greening and then we’ll have a look at the map to check the best route to your friend’s house. I suggest we get there a few minutes early in case there’s a problem with parking.’
‘Good thinking.’
Lance Rainbird’s flat was in an imposing Victorian house on the corner of a quiet street not far from Kew Gardens. Harry had already made a note of a convenient turning where he could wait for Sukey to call him, so they drove straight to the house and drew up outside just as a police car appeared from the opposite direction.
‘How’s that for timing?’ he said as she got out of the car.
‘Perfect. See you later.’
One of two uniformed constables got out of the car and approached her. ‘I’m PC Connor,’ he said. ‘Can I take it you’re DC Reynolds from the Avon and Somerset force?’
‘That’s right.’ She showed him her ID.
‘The first we knew about Mr Rainbird’s death was when a woman from the news desk of the local paper rang us hoping for a story,’ he told her. ‘She picked it up from a brief report in one of the national dailies but we couldn’t tell her anything. We know absolutely nothing about the gentleman and no one claiming to know or be related to him has approached us, so we’ve had no occasion to call here. I understand he was found drowned in a lake in the grounds of a hotel in Somerset.’
‘That’s right,’ said Sukey. ‘We began by treating it as an unexplained death.’
‘We assumed it was an accident, but as it didn’t concern us we didn’t pay much attention to it until we got your call. Are you now treating it as suspicious?’
‘Death was definitely due to drowning, but we weren’t sure at first how he came to be in the water,’ said Sukey. ‘We’re pretty sure now that it was murder and our enquiries have led us to believe that there may be something in his residence to give us a lead.’
‘Believe or hope?’ said Connor.
She gave a rueful smile. ‘Good question. I can guess what you’re thinking. I have to admit that clues have been pretty thin on the ground so far, which is why I’m here. Anyway, my DI instructed me to let your people know as a matter of courtesy.’
‘We appreciate that. He probably knows that all the neighbours will have read about it and it’s more than likely at least one of them will be calling us to say that a strange woman has been seen at the flat. You might be challenged by one of the residents.’
‘I’m hoping to speak to some of them while I’m here,’ said Sukey, remembering in the nick of time not to say ‘we’re hoping’. She took the keys to Rainbird’s flat from her pocket. ‘Are you happy to let me go in?’
‘Of course; we’re just here to make sure you’re who you say you are. Perhaps you’d like one of us to come in with you, in case there’s a problem?’
‘You think the killer might have murdered him for the flat and taken up residence there?’ said Sukey, and he gave a slightly self-conscious grin. She had a feeling that he might have been hoping to stand around and watch while she carried out her search, which was the last thing she wanted. Not that Harry’s – strictly unauthorized – presence was an essential part of the exercise, but an extra pair of eyes was always useful. ‘I’m sure he’s more likely to keep well out of the way,’ she said. ‘If he moved in here, someone would be sure to see him and ask questions.’
Before he could respond there was a shout of ‘Here, Jim!’ and the sound of an engine revving.
‘It looks as if you’re needed elsewhere,’ said Sukey, greatly relieved at the diversion.
‘Good hunting,’ said Connor as he hurried back to the car, which raced away with its siren sounding and blue light flashing.
As soon as it was out of sight Sukey called Harry and said, ‘Come and join me; the coast is clear.’
A few minutes later he appeared and slid into the place vacated by the police car. ‘This looks a pretty affluent neighbourhood,’ he commented. ‘Lots of big houses and all well maintained. Did you say Rainbird owned this one?’
‘That’s right. Let’s go in.’
There were stone steps leading up to the front door, to the right of which were four bell pushes numbered one to four. Each had a name beside it, the first being labelled Rainbird. A downward slanting arrow indicated a flight of steps to the right and was marked simply ‘Basement Flat’.
‘Which floor did he live on?’ asked Harry.
‘I’ve no idea, but I think it might be the first floor right,’ she said. ‘I’m pretty sure I saw a twitch of the lace curtains of the one on the left, so there’s someone at home. The name according to the label to Flat Two is Fellows and my guess is it’s a woman. That means there’s at least one potential witness for us to question and the nosier the better. Right, let’s go in.’
The front door gave on to a spacious entrance hall. A light brown carpet covered the floor; on the far wall was a table bearing a large vase of orange tulips, which on inspection proved to be imitation although, as Sukey commented, deceptively lifelike. Above the table was a heavy unframed mirror and to the right was a flight of stairs, carpeted to match the hall. ‘No expense spared here,’ commented Harry.
On either side of the hall was a door, each bearing a shiny metal number. The door of number two opened a fraction and a wrinkled face crowned with luxuriant white hair peered out. ‘Can I help you?’ said the woman in a voice that reminded Sukey of the rustle of tissue paper.
‘We hope we haven’t disturbed you,’ said Sukey. ‘We’ve come to have a look round Mr Rainbird’s flat.’
‘Oh.’ The woman sounded surprised. ‘I didn’t know it was up for sale already. We heard the poor gentleman had an accident and died, of course, but no one has told us when or where his funeral will be.’
‘I’m afraid we don’t know anything about the funeral,’ said Sukey. ‘I wonder if we could come and see you after we’ve had a look round the flat.’
‘Of course.’ The wrinkles deepened into a smile of delight. ‘I hope you like it. It would be nice to have a young couple living here.’
‘That’s interesting,’ said Sukey as she opened the door to Flat One. ‘She obviously didn’t see the police outside the house, but she saw us.’
‘Maybe she was dozing and the sound of the siren woke her up,’ Harry suggested. ‘We can find out later. This is nice,’ he went on as they stepped inside. They were in a spacious hall with doors on all sides; on the wall opposite the front door was a long case clock that showed the time at a quarter past two. He walked over to inspect it. ‘Either it’s shown that time for ages or it simply needs winding. Freddie would love it; she’s nutty about clocks.’
‘Never mind the clock; we’re here to look for clues, remember?’ She opened the first door on the left, which turned out to be a storage area containing a vacuum cleaner and an assortment of cleaning materials. A few jackets hung from hooks along one wall and Sukey checked every pocket, but found nothing of interest. The next door led into a dining room, with a light oak suite of table, six chairs and a matching sideboard. On the table was a single place setting, with a neatly folded napkin on one side and an upturned crystal tumbler on the other.
‘Ready for his next meal,’ commented Harry. ‘It would suggest that he was a very well organized chap. I wonder why he needed a place this size, though. You said he was a loner.’
Sukey shook her head. ‘As he owns the house he probably found it convenient to
live here so he could keep an eye on his tenants. That’s something we might find out by talking to the neighbours.’ She walked round the room and pulled out the drawers in the sideboard, which contained the usual assortment of cutlery and table linen. In the cupboards were crockery and glasses, all of good quality. ‘No bottles of booze,’ she said. ‘He wasn’t a drinker himself and it doesn’t look as if he kept anything to offer visitors – which he probably never had anyway.’
‘So he didn’t fall in the lake by accident after having a few too many,’ said Harry. ‘That must have come out at the PM, so why did it take you so long to decide it was murder?’
‘Various reasons,’ said Sukey.
‘Which I don’t need to know, I suppose.’
‘Correct. Come on, we’ve finished in here. I’d like to try the kitchen next.’
‘Any particular reason?’
‘Maybe.’
The first door on the right of the hall led into the kitchen. It was well equipped, with a cooker, fridge-freezer, washing machine and dishwasher, the walls lined with a range of storage cupboards and drawers. After a perfunctory inspection of the contents, Sukey bent down and opened the cupboard under the sink. A bin for rubbish disposal swung out, the lid rising automatically. She lifted out the plastic liner, shook it and inspected the contents. ‘Nothing there,’ she muttered in evident disappointment. ‘Ah, what have we here?’ She reached into the back of the cupboard and pulled out a second plastic bag, which she lifted up and shook. There was the unmistakable sound of glass clinking against glass. She reached inside and pulled out two empty wine bottles. ‘Voila!’
‘So he was a tippler after all,’ said Harry. ‘It must be significant to make you so excited.’
‘I don’t think he drank the wine himself,’ said Sukey, ‘but he had a visitor who obviously did.’
‘A woman?’
‘We do have reason to believe that he may have had a woman friend. If she was a regular visitor here someone would have spotted her. I have great hopes of Mrs Fellows.’ She put the bag containing the bottles back in the cupboard.
‘Don’t you want them as evidence?’
‘Whatever prints are on them they certainly aren’t the killer’s. Let’s try the bathroom.’
The bathroom, like the kitchen, was well equipped with modern appliances. Everything was spotlessly clean; a cabinet over the handbasin contained a small assortment of men’s toiletries. ‘No shaving gear or toothbrush,’ commented Harry.
‘He was going away for the weekend,’ Sukey reminded him. She sniffed and said, ‘I can smell some sort of fragrance, but I don’t think it’s aftershave. Can you smell it?’
‘I noticed it too – and I’ve just recognized it,’ he said. ‘It’s the one Freddie uses. So Rainbird’s mystery visitor is a woman, one who uses a very distinctive perfume.’
‘So it would seem. I wonder …’ Sukey took a pair of tweezers from her shoulder bag and opened the door to the shower. She bent down and began probing in the drain. After a few moments she drew out several hairs and placed them in an evidence bag. She then examined the drain in the hand basin, with similar results. Having labelled the bags she stowed them away. ‘That was worth doing,’ she said.
‘I take it you’re hoping to find hairs of different colours – his and hers?’ said Harry.
‘And different DNA readings as well. Next stop, the bedroom.’
Sukey went straight to the bed and turned back the cover. She bent down and sniffed. ‘The perfume’s even stronger in here.’ She slipped a hand under the pillow and pulled out a woman’s handkerchief. ‘Eureka!’ She took out another evidence bag, labelled and sealed it and stowed it away with the others. ‘There’s another door at the end of the passage. Let’s have a look in there.’
The room was sparsely furnished and had obviously been used by Rainbird as his home office as it contained nothing but a desk, a filing cabinet and one chair. On the desk were a lamp, a telephone and a laptop. ‘He probably did his research on that,’ said Harry.
‘I guess so. Let’s see if we can take a look at some of his files.’ She switched on the laptop, waited till the desktop appeared and clicked on the Internet browser. A window appeared demanding a password. ‘I was afraid of that.’ She shut it down. ‘Never mind; if DI Rathbone thinks it’s important he’ll get the techies on to it. I think it’s time to pay Mrs Fellows a call. Perhaps she’ll give us a cup of coffee.’
Mrs Fellows had not been idle. She led the way into her sitting room where a woman, slightly younger than herself, was sitting on a sofa. ‘I told Mrs Palmer some people had come to view the flat and she was naturally very interested. I said you were going to pop in to see me so I invited her to join us. I hope you don’t mind.’
‘Not at all,’ said Sukey, ‘but there’s something I have to tell you first. I’m Detective Constable Reynolds from the Avon and Somerset Police.’ She held up her ID.
‘The police!’
The eyes of both women widened and they exchanged excited glances which quickly turned to consternation. ‘Does that mean Mr Rainbird’s death wasn’t an accident?’ said Mrs Palmer.
‘I’m afraid it does,’ said Sukey. ‘We weren’t sure at first exactly what happened to him and at first it seemed it could have been an accident, but now we’re fairly certain he was murdered.’
‘How dreadful,’ said Mrs Fellows, her papery voice reduced to a whisper.
‘I wonder if his lady friend knows about it,’ said Mrs Palmer.
‘We gather he had a lady friend, but we don’t know anything about her,’ said Sukey. ‘Have you seen her?’
‘Oh yes,’ they both said eagerly. ‘She doesn’t come very often – at least, we only see her occasionally but of course she may come when we don’t see her.’
‘Could you describe her?’
‘Oh dear.’ Apart from recalling that ‘she’s quite nice looking, about the same age as Mr Rainbird and always very nicely dressed,’ neither woman was able to give anything approaching an accurate description.
Sukey was beginning to feel discouraged when Harry suddenly said, ‘If you saw a picture of her, perhaps you’d recognize her?’
‘Oh yes!’ they both said eagerly. ‘Have you got one?’
Sukey shook her head. ‘If we knew who she was we wouldn’t be asking you these questions,’ she pointed out gently. ‘Well, thank you anyway. We mustn’t take up any more of your time.’
Both women apologized profusely for their failure to say anything useful and Sukey and Harry made their escape. The minute they were back in the car Sukey said, ‘We haven’t got any picture to show them, so what on earth was the point of that?’
‘You don’t need to know – not for the time being anyway.’
‘So what do we do now?’
‘It’s getting on for lunchtime. Didn’t I say I had a surprise for you?’
TWENTY-ONE
‘You said something about a special treat,’ said Sukey, as Harry turned into the drive at Greenings and pulled up in a parking space, ‘so what are we doing back here?’
‘I thought we should change into something a bit less casual,’ said Harry. ‘Jeans and a sweat shirt aren’t quite suitable for where we’re going.’
‘Which is where?’
‘You’ll see.’
Realizing there was no point in asking further questions, Sukey followed him up to their room, where she changed into the simple dress she had brought to wear for dinner, brushed her hair and checked her make-up. She slipped on a jacket and did a brief twirl in front of him. ‘Will this do?’ she asked.
He pretended to study her with a critical eye before giving her a hug and saying ‘Perfect – as always! I hope those are comfortable,’ he added, indicating her low-heeled pumps. ‘There’ll be nowhere to park where we’re going so you’ll have to do a bit of walking.’
‘Where to?’
‘You’ll see.’ Meanwhile he had changed into a grey suit with a plain blue shirt and striped ti
e. He glanced in the mirror, brushed his hair and said, ‘Right, let’s go.’
‘Hang on a moment while I put these evidence bags in the safe. Just in case we get mugged,’ she explained. ‘Unlikely, I know, but I’d hate to have our morning’s work wasted.’
At Richmond station they took a train, emerging into the daylight of Piccadilly at Green Park Underground station. The sun was warm and there was a hint of spring in the air. Harry took her arm. ‘It’s not far now,’ he said. A few steps further on he stopped at the entrance to the Ritz. ‘Here we are.’
Sukey’s eyes widened. ‘Are we having lunch here?’
‘I told you it was a special treat. I’ve made a reservation in the Rivoli Bar. Come along.’ When they were seated at their table he said, ‘How about a champagne cocktail to celebrate?’
‘I’d love a champagne cocktail, but what are we celebrating?’
He ordered the drinks from the waiter standing at his elbow before lowering his voice and saying, ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s exactly a year since our adventure in that tattoo parlour – remember?’
‘How could I ever forget?’ She glanced round the bar; it was already busy, the few unoccupied tables bearing cards reading ‘Reserved’. ‘This is lovely,’ she said. ‘Whatever made you think of it?’
‘Dad told me he and Freddie stayed here one weekend a couple of years ago. They were feeling a bit flush as they’d just won a prestigious golfing tournament and decided to put a bit more to the prize money and treat themselves to a weekend of luxury. I’m afraid I couldn’t run to a weekend – and in any case it wouldn’t have been as convenient for our researches as Greenings.’ The waiter returned with their drinks and he raised his glass. ‘Let’s drink to the memory of a very special day!’
‘The day you nearly got the two of us killed,’ she reminded him. ‘Being here has just reminded me of something,’ she added as they sipped their drinks and studied the menu. ‘When Vicky and I interviewed Luke Grayson …’
‘Who’s Luke Grayson?’
‘The brother of John Grayson, the one who calls himself Romeo. He works for the same firm of accountants as Rainbird.’
The Scent of Death--A Sukey Reyholds British police procedural Page 18
