Ewing slammed the palm of his hand onto the table.
‘Because I loved her!’
CHAPTER 62
Catherine Ewing, following the morning session in interview room four, and as a consequence of private discussions with her husband, had removed herself from the case. By Tara’s reckoning, she had probably removed herself from the marriage. Before leaving the station, she asked to speak privately with Tara.
‘I’ve enlisted an associate of mine to represent Toby,’ she said, maintaining her professional front. ‘His name is Matthew Greenwell. He is more experienced in criminal cases. I’ve spoken to him briefly about the facts of the case as I know them. Please bear with him while he gets up to speed.’
‘I will, Mrs Ewing.’
‘I’m quite sure you noticed that what Toby finally admitted this morning came as a shock to me. He had not been entirely truthful with me, his solicitor and also his wife. I have removed myself from the case, although I spoke to Toby before I did so. One or two curious things have happened recently that I did not understand before this morning.’
‘Oh?’
‘Some weeks ago Toby’s behaviour, his mood, changed dramatically. He told me that he was under pressure at work. He was having to work late on some new projects. I wasn’t to worry. But he was very agitated about something. From the time Richard Andrews died, he has been totally unapproachable and very secretive. I had put it down to the recent food scare involving the company and to Richard’s death. Of course, I only realised this morning just how withdrawn from me and our marriage he had become.’
‘Was there anything specific that he did or said to you that made you suspicious of him?’
‘He had asked me for a divorce.’
‘Can you remember when exactly?’
She removed her glasses and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. ‘About a week after Richard died, and certainly before this Riordan woman disappeared.’
‘I think that may help explain one or two things about his motives in this case.’
‘You are certain that he killed all of those people?’
‘I’m fairly sure, yes.’
‘I’ve spoken to him for what I hope is the last time, Inspector. Apart from granting him his wish for a divorce, I also gave him some professional advice. If he takes it then your task this afternoon should be less arduous.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Ewing. I appreciate your help.’
‘Goodbye, Inspector.’
She walked defiantly from the room, passing her husband in the corridor on her way out. She didn’t speak. Toby Ewing sloped by awkwardly, looking crestfallen.
Murray introduced Matthew Greenwell to Tara, and together with Ewing, they sat down to resume their enquiries. Greenwell was an affable sort, although probably making just a little too much light of the situation. Tara put it down to nerves, the man was quite young for a solicitor, newly qualified perhaps, and having to handle a case involving a colleague’s husband.
Catherine Ewing had been happy to leave her husband’s fate in the hands of this young man. Whether or not that was a good thing, Tara was unsure. By the look on Ewing’s face, he was past caring. When Tara had recommenced the interview, with the usual patter for the sake of the recording, Greenwell was quick to have his say.
‘After some consultation,’ he announced, rather too brightly for the occasion, ‘my client has decided that he would like to make a full statement regarding this matter.’
Textbook stuff, thought Tara, nevertheless, home in time for tea.
Murray had the handwritten statement typed up on computer by five o’clock. Tara, angry, frustrated, feeling duped, had waited to read it over before going home. As she read, she had to battle to keep her emotions in check. Jez Riordan had become a friend of sorts, but that was before it was discovered exactly what she had been doing.
CHAPTER 63
I am Tobias James Ewing of Fillmore Cottage, Barnston. I am a director at Harbinson Fine Foods, Liverpool.
In March of this year, I began a relationship with Jez Riordan, an employee of the above-named company. In August, she explained to me at her home, that she intended to embark on a campaign to discredit the company CEO, Edward Harbinson. At this time, I did not understand what she meant by discredit, but a week later she showed me several small vials containing a clear liquid. She told me that there was sufficient poison within the vials to kill several dozen people. I asked her where she had obtained the substance, and she said that she had been accumulating it over several years. I asked her what she was intending to do with it. She said that she wanted to bring down Harbinson’s company. I was shocked by what she was planning, but she warned me that our continuing relationship was dependent upon my helping her.
On 14 September, I entered the ASDA store at Hunts Cross Shopping Centre and, using a small plastic syringe, inserted several millilitres of the liquid I believed contained poison into a package containing a chicken curry ready meal, I knew to be supplied by Harbinson Fine Foods.
On 24 September…
There followed a list of occasions on which Ewing had entered shops and supermarkets to contaminate Harbinson food products. The statement then outlined Ewing’s actions relating to the murder of Maggie Hull and his most recent association with Jez Riordan.
…On the evening of Monday, 21 October, I called at the home of my secretary, Miss Maggie Hull of Bartlett Street, Wavertree. The time was about six-thirty. I had watched her as she arrived home from work. I knocked on her front door and she opened it. I explained that I needed to discuss a delicate work-related matter with her and she invited me inside. As she entered her living room with her back to me, I removed a spanner from under my coat and hit her once on the back of the head. She fell to the floor, but I believed that she was still conscious. I hit her again, this time drawing blood. I kept on hitting her until I was sure that she was no longer moving. After several blows, I believed that she was dead.
I placed the spanner into a plastic carrier bag which I had taken with me. It was dark outside, and it was raining. There was no one about in the street, so I left by the front door. I was then supposed to leave the spanner close to the home of Mr Tommy Gracey on Priory Road, Anfield, but I was very upset by what I had done and didn’t feel up to driving straight away. Once out of Bartlett Street, I tossed the bag containing the spanner into some bushes and hurried back to my car which was parked several streets away from Maggie’s house. From there I drove to another location. I can’t remember where. After about thirty minutes, I stopped the car and called Miss Jez Riordan on my mobile telephone. I told her that it was done, that I wanted to come and see her, but she told me to go on home and that we would discuss it the next day.
On the morning of Wednesday, 23 October, I spoke to Miss Jez Riordan by telephone from my office. I told her that I couldn’t take much more of this anguish and that I wanted to give myself up to the police. She told me not to be silly, that we had come too far and it would not be long before everything was finalised. She had already told the police that Maggie had debt problems and had been threatened by Tommy Gracey. It was likely, she said, that he would get the blame for Maggie’s murder. She told me that she loved me, and I asked her to marry me. She said yes, on condition that I did not go to the police because I was of no use to her in prison. She told me to get on with my everyday activities as though nothing had happened and that the pain would soon disappear. She told me that Maggie had to die because she knew too much. Maggie was well aware of who Jez really was and was aware also that she had already conducted affairs with Edward Harbinson and Richard Andrews. She told me that Maggie had been very upset by Richard’s suicide and Jez was worried that she would go to the police.
Jez promised to meet me that evening, 23 October, after work. We often met in Royden Park near to my home. When I arrived there that evening I could not find Jez. Her car was in the car park but there was no sign of her. I waited for about twenty minutes. I also tried to call her but there w
as no reply. Then I drove home. I am not responsible for the death of Jez Riordan. I was completely in love with her.
Toby Ewing
Tara tossed the papers across her desk and sat back in her chair. Exhaustion washed over her, her head throbbed, and her eyelids were ready to shut tight. It felt like she’d just been short-changed in a pub and she was too drunk to do or say anything about it. Tweedy would be delighted with the result; she knew that much. Maggie Hull’s killer had been found and there was little doubt that Jez Riordan had been murdered, although Ewing had not admitted to it. Since Toby Ewing had freely admitted to the Hull killing, it seemed there was little reason for him to deny the murder of Jez Riordan unless, of course, he was truly innocent.
Tara wasn’t convinced by that portion of the story. She had no justifiable reason to disbelieve Ewing’s statement, but she was certain to the pit of her stomach that Jez simply hadn’t been knocked over by a random hit-and-run driver. The problem was, how the hell was she going to convince Tweedy that the case should not be closed?
CHAPTER 64
Tara slipped the black sequin top over her head and stood before the mirror in her bedroom. Her first night out in months, and she was determined to make the most of it. A new top, skinny black leggings and a pair of shiny heels. It would be so easy to stand in front of the full-length mirror and count the bruises from her most recent conflict or the scars remaining from past turbulent episodes, but tonight she let all her cares drift away. She was more concerned with her new look. Not so much the clothes but the daring hairstyle. She could not recall ever having such short hair. It remained devilishly blond, but it no longer fell below her shoulders. Now it matched her friend Kate’s, although not in colour. Purple hair such as Kate’s was not a style she felt confident of carrying off around St Anne Street station.
Tonight, she and Kate were stepping out for the first time since she had lost her baby. They would dine at a really good restaurant. They might well drink too much wine. They might find themselves acting like teenagers, dancing at a club. Nothing mattered other than to have a good time in each other’s company. If they were approached by a couple of good-looking fellas, then so be it. But they could just as easily do without.
Gathering her coat and bag and closing her door behind her, Tara knew well that her pain had not gone away. She had merely swept it all beneath a mental carpet. Compartmentalise, isn’t that how people termed it nowadays? How to survive a major trauma in one’s life – box it up, tidy away. Lying on the coffee table in her lounge was a typed letter – her resignation from the Merseyside Police.
They ate dinner and drank two bottles of their favourite wine. Later, they found themselves in a noisy club, booming music, thronging crowds, mostly kids. God, but they were getting old. A couple of shots each and a laugh on the dancefloor. Two guys swooped in; lads, nothing fancy but brimming with confidence. Tara was sure they had school the following day. That made Kate laugh. They drank some more shots and had a few laughs with the lads. They snogged them on the dancefloor, leaving the boys in no doubt what they had stumbled upon. But that was it. All they needed to round off their evening.
By two in the morning, they were comfy on Tara’s sofa, drinking tea and eating toast, planning a summer holiday. Life had to go on. Tara must keep all of her hurt under that bloody carpet. She stared at the letter on the table. Could she hold her nerve long enough to hand it to Superintendent Tweedy?
As Kate dozed beside her, Love Actually playing on TV, Tara could not prevent her mind from raking over the recent case. Her inability to understand what had motivated Jez to do what she had done remained uppermost in her thinking. To manipulate a man, several men in fact, and then entice one of them to commit murder so that she could settle an old score on her father’s behalf. How did she manage to wield such influence with Toby Ewing? Four people had died, entirely innocent and ignorant of Jez’s plight. Two more had died, Richard Andrews and Maggie Hull, because at some point they had become too close to the woman. Then Jez had perished, her terrifying scheme unfulfilled. The company she had set out to destroy, the people she wished to bring down were all alive and well. Tara would never understand the craziness of Jez’s actions, but what jarred most with her was the stance of the killer Toby Ewing. Why had he admitted so readily to the killing of innocent people but not to the murder of his lover? Then, at the last moment, before the case was handed over to the CPS, to finally enter a guilty plea for killing Jez. Somehow, Tara could not sit comfortably with the outcome. Something was not right.
CHAPTER 65
Last night’s storm had brought down trees, caused power blackouts and some roads were flooded. Nicole did not usually travel this road, but the diversion sign had directed her this way. Traffic ahead was slow, huge puddles of water lay at intervals on either side of the road. The school run was taking ages. She shivered at the very thought of driving by this place. Of course, she should feel relief now that it was all over for her. Richard was gone and she and the kids were on their own, but at least she was getting this second chance. A chance of a new life, and she was determined to make it work.
Traffic slowed again; she stopped by the turning and gazed at the sign. Royden Park. Forever, it would mean so much but she prayed that soon it would no longer strike fear in her heart. She closed her eyes and tried to purge the images from her mind.
Four months had slipped by. Time seemed to accelerate from the day she lost Richard. From the night also when she had last driven through this area. At first, on that night she had driven on by, wondering how her little Simon and Chloe would cope without their father. So deep in thought, she almost did not see the car. It was that woman’s car, a silver Peugeot SUV, and Jez Riordan was at the wheel. In a fleeting second, she decided that she had to know what Jez was doing there. Was she meeting someone? Why here? She must confront her. She wanted to look her in the face, ask her why she had taken her Richard. She would tell Jez how she had destroyed the lives of two innocent children, and how she had never been worthy of a good man like Richard Andrews.
It was dark and she should have been home with her children, but this wouldn’t take long. Have it out with the bitch and surely she would feel better.
She turned her car on the road and followed the Peugeot into the country park. Slowly, easing along the laneway she saw the red brake lights come on ahead of her. She halted briefly and looked around for signs of any other vehicles. Surely Riordan had come here to meet someone. As far as she could see there were no other cars. Moving on and into the parking area, she saw Jez, already out of her car and pacing around. The woman, looking very well dressed, turned to face the approaching car. She was caught fully in the glare of the headlights. Suddenly, the urge to speak with the bitch left her. It was well past the time for words. Jez Riordan smiled into her light beam, probably thinking that her companion, or her latest lover, had arrived.
Nicole Andrews pressed her foot hard on the accelerator. The engine roared, wheels spinning on the gravel. Her car rushed forward. The bitch didn’t stand a chance. Her body thumped on the bonnet and somersaulted as the car raced on by. Checking her mirror, Nicole saw the dark shape of the woman struggling to rise to her knees. Slipping into reverse, the rear lights picked out the stricken body. Again, she floored the accelerator, releasing just enough clutch to spin the wheels on the gravel and then to race backwards. She felt the thud below as the body was hit and dragged underneath. Clear again of the obstacle, she saw Jez in her lights. This time there was no movement. Once more would do it, she thought. She had seized her chance. The car again rolled over the unconscious body. There was no more fun to be had.
More from curiosity than bravery, she ventured from her car and stepped close to the body. There was blood but somehow, in the darkness, it did not hold any trauma for her. She peered into the face of Jez Riordan, the woman who had ruined her life. In the violence of the moment, she had somehow avoided disfiguring the beautiful looks. The body though was lifeless and battered.
Suddenly, nerves engulfed her. Had anyone seen? Was someone coming? She never realised her strength. In a panic, she gripped the coat of the dead woman with both hands and dragged the body over the gravel to a grass verge. She noticed that the verge sloped away into darkness. With one final effort, she grasped the body and pulled downwards until it found its momentum and rolled into the ditch and out of sight.
The tears Nicole cried on her way out of the park were not for herself and certainly not for what she had done to Jez Riordan. They were for Richard.
Her father became her strength. He was brilliant. Unable to sleep, feeding herself with pills and vodka, that same night Nicole finally picked up the phone and called him.
When she related the details of how she had killed the bitch he told her to stay put, to tell no one. Immediately, he came to the house and collected her car. Within a day, it had been sold on and a brand-new Range Rover sat in its place. She was worried still that the police would come for her. What would she say? That detective, DI Grogan, was sharp; she would smell her fear. They would take her away. She would lose the kids. First, the loss of their father and then they lose their mother. What the hell had she done? One moment of blind fury would cost her kids their happy childhood.
Then Toby was arrested. She could hardly believe it. He had poisoned all of those people, and he’d battered poor Maggie to death in her own home. He was charged with the murder of five people but strenuously denied killing Jez Riordan. She was astounded to learn that Toby, like Richard, had been smitten by this woman. Her power over them was so strong it had driven Richard to suicide and Toby to murder innocent people on her behalf. Jez Riordan was a monster, and for what? To avenge an injustice from fifty years ago – an injustice that never actually happened.
THE DARING NIGHT Page 22
