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The Ballad Of Sean And Wilko (The Christy Kennedy Mysteries Book 4)

Page 24

by Paul Charles


  ‘Ah, not at all,’ Kennedy replied modestly.

  Coles returned to the office, laden down with supplies. They drank their tea, ate their food, and went through the case one more time.

  ‘Okay, James,’ Kennedy said, when the last of the food and tea was gone, ‘we’ll let you get on with your enquiries. WPC Coles and I are going to pay another visit to Colette Green.’

  ‘What kind of fresh hell is this?’ Kennedy was sure these were the words he heard being shouted as heavy footsteps neared the door he and Coles had just knocked on.

  ‘Ah, it’s you again.’ Sean Green stood in the doorway of his house. ‘Come in, won’t you. Sorry about all the shouting and all of that but I’m here on my own and I’m trying to get some writing done and if it’s not the telephone it’s the door. Come on in.’

  ‘We’re sorry to disturb you again, Mr Green. We were actually hoping to have a few more words with your wife,’ Kennedy said, unbuttoning his Crombie.

  ‘Ah, well now, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. She’s out,’ Green said, as he clambered awkwardly up the stairs. ‘Come in, all the same. I’m sure Colette won’t be too long.’

  ‘We could come back,’ Kennedy offered.

  ‘No, no. It’s fine, honestly.’ Sean led the two police officers up the stairs to his study, a bit awkwardly in his usual platform shoes. ‘Although I thought we answered all your questions yesterday.’

  ‘Oh, there are still a few bits and pieces we’re trying to tidy up.’

  Kennedy looked at Green. The tiny man wore a three-piece blue suit, without the jacket, a matching blue shirt and a pair of platform shoes. The detective considered the shoes. Their platforms were half a foot high if they were an inch. For some reason, Green reminded him of Nick Lowe’s song, “Half a Boy and Half a Man”. It seemed absurdly appropriate to Sean Green. Take away the shoes and the afro-style hair, half the man in fact, and Sean Green was the size of a small boy.

  ‘Actually,’ the musician said, sitting behind his desk, ‘I’m glad of the opportunity to speak with you again after yesterday. I’d hate for you to think my wife and I were rowing or anything. She’s been through a lot recently. She was really very fond of KP, you know. They were good pals. In the early days when she and I were getting to know each other she’d always hang out with KP around the gigs and television studios and suchlike. My wife’s not really comfortable in all of that, you know. She’s not really into the glamour of it all. She’s more a people person. If she likes someone, she doesn’t really care what they do, or what they are, or what they wear, she’ll make a connection. She likes you you know, detective. But, anyway, if you consider the fact that in the space of a couple of days she has lost KP and Wilko, the father of her first child. It’s only natural that she’d be a little on edge right now and suffer from…well, I suppose mixed loyalties.’

  ‘I don’t follow, sir,’ Kennedy said, following quite well indeed.

  ‘Well, all that stuff about looking after Susan. I mean, was that a classic case of insecurity or what? I mean, of course we’re going to look after Susan. As I told you at one of our first interviews, one of the main reasons I want to continue as a band is to honour Wilko.’

  ‘Pardon me if I’m wrong, sir,’ Coles said. ‘But I thought your wife was more concerned about the share of money that was going to Wilko’s dependants. My understanding was that she thought the three of you – yourself, Wilko and KP – founded the band and should be earning equally.’

  Well done, thought Kennedy. Couldn’t have done better myself.

  ‘No, but I can see how you might have been confused. It really is complicated. No, Colette was concerned that, following Wilko’s death, Susan might be neglected. You know, there’s more to the Circles organisation than paying out money. We look after our people. We take care of details, look after things. It’s one of our manager’s principle tasks, organising our people’s lives for them. Our manager, Nick Edwards, that’s what his office is good at. In the early days KP used to do it but now it’s grown out of all recognition and it really takes a well-tuned organisation like his to take care of all the details, to look after our people,’ Green smiled. ‘You see, for instance, the case of Clarkey. Now he was in the band and then he was out of the band. But by that point he was one of our people and therefore he had the organisation behind him. The office looked after getting him into a studio, booking musicians, hiring an engineer for him, so he could demo some of his material. The office then started to advise him on how best to deal with his tapes. He feels a part of our organisation, he knows we’ll look after him.’

  ‘Once someone is in the group the organisation looks after them?’ Kennedy confirmed.

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘Well, if you’ll excuse me, why then didn’t the organisation look after Wilko?’

  ‘Well, for one thing we didn’t have Edwards’ people working for us. But I think it’s important to remember that Wilko dumped Circles in order to go solo. He was convinced we were over, and I don’t think he really wanted any support or input from us. He was convinced that he could rise from the ashes of Circles. He wanted to be independent, and so we obliged him,’ Green explained sadly. ‘He was unlucky, and perhaps over-rated. I’ve heard the rough mixes and there was something good in there. But he had no talent for finding it. With a bit of help on completing the songs, with a bit of vision, he could have had something special. I knew exactly what kind of record he should have made. If he’d had the balls to let me produce it, he could have had three hits, I promise you. Wilko could sing like nobody else, a natural front man, but he needed someone behind him to pull the strings. I could have helped him. I could also have helped him launch and promote the record.’

  There was a pause in the room as, downstairs, the door opened.

  ‘Aha. I believe that’s my wife returning.’ Green hurried to the doorway and called down.

  ‘Colette, dear. I’m up here. Inspector Kennedy is here yet again, he’d like to talk to you. Shall I send him down to the kitchen?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Colette called back from down below. Green turned back to Kennedy and Coles. ‘I’m afraid I’ll be unable to join you. Now it’s my turn to run a few errands. Can I assume we’re done?’

  ‘Yes. That’s fine for now, sir,’ Kennedy said. ‘Thanks for your time.’

  Within minutes, the police officers were downstairs and Sean was out of the house.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  ‘I don’t know about you two, but I fancy a cup of tea.’ Colette was filling the kettle as they entered her kitchen. Kennedy broke into a warm smile.

  ‘That would be perfect.’

  Coles and Kennedy sat on the high stools by the counter.

  ‘How was Sean?’ Colette asked.

  ‘Fine. We talked a bit more about Wilko. He went to great lengths to assure us that the two of you weren’t arguing yesterday.’

  ‘Ah,’ sighed Colette. ‘That’s forever Sean. Always worried about appearances. I suppose it’s his upbringing. You know, what the neighbours thought was always very important, and it certainly made him fight for what he got and I suppose it makes him want to protect it. I was different, I grew up never wanting and then I married Sean and he’s been a great provider, so it’s never really been a consideration of mine. Dump the lot I say, and then maybe we’ll get down and be real and get a life.’

  ‘Do you ever wonder how differently things would have been if you were with Wilko?’ Kennedy asked gently.

  ‘Now there’s a question.,’ Colette said. ‘It’s difficult. I could see all his faults, I could see how they destroyed him. Yes, I suppose I wonder sometimes if I could have saved him. But I’m not sure I’d have had the patience. He had a lot of lessons to learn. He might, and I really mean this, have learned a few of them just before the end of his life.’

  ‘Is that what KP and you were discussing the day he died?’

  ‘Yes, as a matter of fact it was,’ Colette replied, offering no further
explanations. The tea was ready and she served them there at the counter.

  ‘You see,’ Kennedy chanced, ‘I think KP thought Wilko was in love with you again.’

  Colette looked at him for a moment.

  ‘Yes, he mentioned that to me as well.’

  Coles, Kennedy had noticed, was taking everything in but saying nothing.

  ‘Tell me, Mrs Green, were you helping Wilko during his time away from the band?’

  ‘Well, I couldn’t, could I? I mean, I’m Sean’s wife.’

  ‘Actually, I meant more discreetly than that. You know, financially?’ Kennedy pushed gently. ‘You see, the more we check into Wilko’s life, the more we find that his expenses far exceeded his earnings. Several people have remarked on this, in fact, but no one could tell us how he managed it.’

  ‘Maybe he was successful with his gambling, for once,’ Colette suggested.

  ‘We don’t think so,’ Kennedy continued. Colette offered him a blank stare. ‘Mrs Green, I have to tell you that at this very moment Detective Sergeant Irvine is checking your bank statements. By the time I return to North Bridge House I’ll have the information I’m looking for. Mrs Green, please.’

  Colette turned away from the two and crossed her arms.

  ‘Well, you got me, inspector. Of course I gave Wilko money. I had to, didn’t I? He was William’s father, after all.’

  ‘And you still loved him?’

  ‘I still loved him, still hated him. Who knows? What does love mean? I gave him everything, my body and my heart. We had a child and I thought he would change into the man I wanted him to be. He didn’t, he still went around with other women, and I felt like a fool. But good old Sean, ever dependable, was paying me a lot of attention when I needed it. He offered me safety and I took it, yes. Of course I did. I took what was offered because I couldn’t get what I wanted. But Wilko was always the one. He was the father of my first child.’

  ‘Was Sean aware you were giving money to Wilko?’ Kennedy asked.

  ‘I don’t think so, but KP thought he was.’

  ‘Did KP say why he thought that?’

  ‘He just said that it was something in the way Sean was acting.’

  Kennedy decided to go for broke.

  ‘Do you think Sean knew you and Wilko had feelings for each other again?’

  ‘Well, he knew I’d always be fond of William’s father,’ came Colette’s cautious reply.

  ‘I didn’t mean those kinds of feelings, Mrs Green. I mean deeper feelings.’ Kennedy pushed a little further.

  ‘We had to stop,’ Colette replied, in a hushed tone.

  ‘Excuse me? Kennedy asked carefully.

  ‘When Wilko contacted me a couple of years ago I thought he was just after money. I was prepared to help him because he was, as I say, William’s father. His life was a mess, and I did think that Sean wasn’t exactly treating him fairly. I always felt that Wilko and KP were entitled to more than they were given. Maybe Sean did deserve the lion’s share, but what he was taking just wasn’t fair. So I thought helping Wilko out was justified. Circles generated money, Sean took the money and gave me some of it, and I gave some of it back to Wilko. It was his own money, really. A bit of poetic justice.’

  ‘You say you thought he was just after money. Could you explain that?’

  ‘He wanted more. He wanted me. I had started giving him money. We’d have a drink every once in a while. I began to realise that he wanted to see me as much as get the cheques. That got me thinking, and I realised that I felt the same way. I still had feelings for Wilko. Pretty soon we were seeing each other once a week for dinner. One week I intentionally didn’t give him a cheque and he didn’t mention it. He wasn’t there for the money, he was there to win me over. Pretty soon, he did.

  ‘At first it was exciting. We were like kids stealing off to the Britannia Hotel for a few hours. It was great. But Wilko wanted too much, he wanted all of me. He wanted me to leave Sean. I couldn’t, not with the kids. I didn’t want to make a mess of their lives because of us. Sean was starting to get suspicious. Do you know what he resorted to? He dressed up as a woman and followed me around town. He followed me to the Britannia. He was waiting, in his disguise, in the lobby when we came down from the room together. I recognised him immediately, but Wilko hadn’t a clue. Sean was good enough not to cause a scene right there, but back at home… I’d never seen him so mad. I think if he had been bigger he would have beaten me. But physical force was never his strong suit.’

  ‘He didn’t hit you?’ Kennedy asked.

  ‘No, he never laid a finger on me. He disappeared for three days, just stormed off but he had calmed down when he returned. He told me very calmly that I was to stop seeing Wilko immediately. If I didn’t, he’d divorce me and he would take the children. I would never see them again. I told him I’d only started seeing Wilko again initially because he wasn’t being treated fairly. Sean and I struck what you might call a deal. I would stop seeing Wilko if Sean took him back into the group. He agreed and that was that. That was that until somebody murdered Wilko.’

  ‘What did Sean say to you when that happened?’ Kennedy asked. ‘How did he explain it?’

  ‘He said he heard Wilko had been running up a few debts, gotten himself in too deep, and was topped by a couple of thugs. I didn’t think twice about it until KP called.’ Colette stopped in her tracks, taking something from the look on Kennedy’s face. ‘God, you don’t for one moment think that Sean could have murdered Wilko?’

  Kennedy considered the question.

  ‘You do, don’t you?’ Mrs Green said. ‘But he couldn’t possibly. Wilko could blow him away without batting an eyelid. No, inspector. Believe me, Sean is not a murderer.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Kennedy wanted to get back to his office and examine his noticeboard once more. Four minutes later on that Wednesday morning he was doing exactly that. Sean Green was now the number one suspect. However, Kennedy still wasn’t prepared to rule out Tracey McGee. She had a very strong motive.

  Part of the thing which was troubling Kennedy was the whole rigmarole of the locked door. What did that have to do with anything? Maybe, for some other reason, KP had worked out who had committed the murder of Wilko Robertson, but had he worked out how it was done?

  Kennedy stared at KP’s scraps of paper once more. Again, the first thing which caught his attention was the word PRAT, written at an angle across the top of the page with a star drawn beside it. It looked like he had written the word in last, squeezing the letters into the available space, barely getting it in. The T spilled over the side of the page.

  ‘Who was your Prat, Kevin?’ Kennedy asked his noticeboard. ‘Who was the Prat who murdered you?’

  Then the penny dropped.

  It came to Kennedy in a flash – how could he have missed it until now? He could have kicked himself for being so dumb.

  ‘The PRAT who murdered Wilko is PRATLEY!’ Kennedy exclaimed in absolute glee.

  Kevin Paul knew Sean Green when he was called Sean Pratley and he’d obviously still thought of him as Pratley. Kennedy couldn’t believe he’d missed something as obvious as that. He wondered what else was staring at him from KP’s pieces of paper.

  Now, in light of Colette’s disclosures and KP’s message from beyond the grave, Kennedy was convinced Sean Green was the murderer. He had the man, he had the motive, but what was the method? He needed that to prove his case.

  Now Kennedy had Green in his mind’s eye at the scene in the Roundhouse. The security guard had told him the woman who came to see KP that night had a walking stick and had trouble getting down the stairs. The same kind of trouble Green had going down the stairs in his own house while wearing his platform shoes. A walking stick would have helped him and hadn’t Colette just told him that Sean had dressed up as a woman to follow her and Wilko to the Britannia Hotel?

  Was that when he decided to murder Wilko? The day he saw his colleague step out of a hotel lift having just share
d some intimate moments with his wife. Had he decided there and then to get rid of him? Was that why he’d spent the three days away from his wife? Had Sean spent the cooling down period deciding not to get mad but to get even?

  This tact of Kennedy’s worked. The trick of collecting all the information until all the pieces fit together.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Sgt Timothy Flynn, his nine-year-old son Timmy Jr., WPC Anne Coles, DS James Irvine, DI Christy Kennedy and Sean Green stood together in the makeshift dressing room at Dingwalls Dancehall. Kennedy had a few books with him, tucked under his arm.

  ‘Okay,’ Kennedy announced, ‘could you please stand over here, Sean. Just beside Timmy here.’

  Green shrugged and did as he was told.

  ‘Could you please stand back-to-back?’

  Again, Green complied. Kennedy carefully placed the books, one on top of the other, on the ground. He asked Timmy to stand on the pile of books.

  ‘This is just to show,’ Kennedy said, ‘that if we take away Mr Green’s platform shoes and afro hairstyle, he is approximately the same height as Timmy here. If anything, perhaps Timmy is a shade taller.’

  ‘Very funny, I don’t think,’ Green muttered, as he quickly took a couple of steps away from Timmy.

  ‘No, there’s more. There’s more,’ Kennedy said. ‘Okay, Sergeant Flynn, could you please take young Timmy off now. You know what to do.’

  Sgt Flynn smiled a knowing smile and left the room with his arm around his son’s shoulders.

  ‘Now all we have to do is wait.’

  Kennedy found a seat and invited the remainder of the party to do the same. He wasn’t sure, but Kennedy could swear that Green was getting a wee bit twitchy. He was definitely the only one of the four staring at the dumb waiter hole in the corner, near the stacks of soft drinks cases. Including the several stacks of Lucozade cases, which Kennedy had guessed was the LUZD from KP’s valuable scraps of paper.

 

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