Boulter nodded, and said, ‘Have you read DC Thornton’s report on the interview with the bookie Slater used?’
‘Not yet.’ She rifled through the pile and found it.
Boulter went on, ‘It says Slater was quite a heavy punter, and he always had a wad of notes in his wallet when he placed his bets. Most days he lost more than he won, but he did have three quite sizeable wins. One on a double that came up, and the other two on real outsiders. Each time he insisted on being paid his winnings in cash.’
‘I’m not surprised. He was overdrawn on his bank account in London, we’ve established that, so he wouldn’t have wanted them to get their hands on any of his money.’
‘Do you realise, guv, that this is the third mention that Slater habitually carried stacks of notes in his wallet? Doesn’t that suggest that maybe we’re on the wrong tack, and that the motive for his murder was robbery, pure and simple? Plenty of people must have been aware that he’d be worth mugging.’
Kate considered this. ‘Could be, but muggers don’t usually attack their victims with a shotgun in a remote spot. No, Tim. I think we’re right to suspect blackmail as a possible motive. And as Slater only seems to have been in the money since he came to this area, we must look for a suitable victim around here.’
‘Which brings us back to Blackwood. Those big wins of Slater’s . . . inside knowledge, do you reckon?’
‘Could be again. Even so, it’s too soon to risk much money on Blackwood being our chummie. We’ve still got several other good runners. Sebastian Knox, Jillian - despite young Denby’s belief in her - and Murdoch, too, are all still in the race. They all had good reason to hate Slater’s guts, and my favourite’s got to be Knox.’
* * * *
At around twelve-thirty Kate announced that she was going out for lunch, and headed her car in the direction of Chipping Bassett. It was a stretch of road that was particularly lovely, even by Cotswold standards. Now, in June, the trees and meadows had that bright fresh green of new growth. Up in the sky, it was as if a painter had brushed in a few artful wisps of white cloud just to accentuate the overall blueness. An elderly horse with a greying muzzle regarded her placidly over a field gate as she sped past. In another field a flock of sheep was being rounded up by a couple of dogs.
Kate soon reached Chipping Bassett and joined Richard and her aunt in the garden of the Wagon and Horses. They’d chosen a rustic table in a quiet corner, shaded by a spreading horse-chestnut.
‘Kate!’ The light of pleasure in Felix’s eyes stabbed her niece with guilt. ‘How nice you could spare the time to join us. You must be frantically busy just now.’
Kate bent to kiss her aunt’s weathered cheek. Avoiding Richard’s sardonic gaze, she said in a bright voice, ‘I wasn’t going to let a mere case of murder stop me from coming, Felix.’
As Richard disappeared into the bar to buy a drink and sandwich for her, Felix treated Kate to a critical scrutiny.
‘You’ve got that washed-out look, girl.’
‘Thanks a bundle. I can always rely on you to boost my morale.’
‘You work too hard,’ her aunt protested. ‘Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? The police force won’t collapse without you for a few hours. Go somewhere nice with Richard. It’s tough on him when you get bogged down in an investigation and leave him with nothing to do but play golf.’
‘Been discussing me, eh? Listen, I won’t make Chief Superintendent by going off and enjoying myself when there’s stacks of work to be done.’
‘Chief Superintendent? Getting big ideas, aren’t you?’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence,’ Kate said sourly.
‘Don’t be so prickly, girl. Of course you could reach the dizzy heights if you wanted to, I know that. But there are other things in life, and you’ll find yourself missing out on them if you don’t watch it. I was saying so to Richard just now, and he agrees with me.’
‘My God, you two certainly have been having a cosy little chat about me. I should have skipped coming today, then you could have got my future nicely sorted out between you.’
‘What are you getting so het up about?’ Unnoticed, Richard had come up behind her. ‘Get this lager down you, Kate, to seal off those raw nerve ends.’ He set down the drink and plate of food, then put his hands on her shoulders and bent to kiss the top of her head. Kate reacted with a warm rush of tenderness, feeling glad that she’d taken time out to come.
‘You’re in luck, Kate,’ he said, sitting down beside her. ‘Remember asking me if I could pin down the date of that scrap of newsprint you found?’ Richard was concealing the fact, she noted gratefully, that he’d used this as a bait to entice her here today. ‘It’s definitely from the Express, as I thought. The edition of May 8th.’
‘Oh, thanks a lot. I don’t quite yet know how, but it could turn out to be important.’ She bit into her sandwich - hot salt beef with mustard on wholewheat bread, and very good.
Richard went on, ‘I’ve got something else for you, too, I wangled an invite to Lady Iping’s place for drinks yesterday evening.’
‘Neat. Anything interesting emerge?’
‘She certainly didn’t need any prompting from me to get in some snide digs about Heather Bletchley.’
‘Idle gossip? Or matters of substance?’
‘Bit of both. She was summarising the general opinion of the local nobs, I take it, in saying that Heather is as common as muck. While Alec Bletchley was alive, nobody dared to be too open about showing their contempt. But now it’s a different story. Our friend Heather is getting the cold shoulder all round.’
‘I could have told you that,’ Felix put in loftily.
‘Why didn’t you, then?’
‘You didn’t ask. How come you’re so interested in Heather Bletchley, anyway?’
‘It’s all a bit complicated,’ Kate said lightly, and turned back to Richard. ‘Carry on. What else did you get?’
‘From what I gathered, the second Mrs Bletchley just didn’t come up to scratch as a country gent’s lady. Heather couldn’t ride, so she didn’t hunt, and about the only time she ever tried shooting she nearly winged one of the beaters. A dead loss all round.’
‘Alec must have fancied her like mad, then.’
‘He was besotted with her. And that’s what got up all those snobby noses. It’s totally infra dig, Lady Iping reckons, for a woman to captivate a man with her sexual magnetism.’
‘Because she possesses no sexual magnetism herself,’ Felix put in tartly. ‘She bears a distinct resemblance to the back end of a bus.’
‘A London double-decker,’ Richard agreed.
‘When did Heather first appear on the scene?’ Kate asked.
‘Not long before she and Alec were married. He started bringing her with him to race meetings. Which upset more than a few of the local females, apparently . . .widows and so forth among the country set who’d been viewing Alec as gold-plated husband material.’
‘I wonder how he first met her?’
‘I can tell you that. Heather used to work for one of the bookmakers he patronised. In Audrey Iping’s eyes she might as well have been walking the streets. Apparently, she was Alec’s contact with the firm, and I presume she charmed him over the phone when he rang up to place his bets. Then one day he dropped in at the firm’s headquarters and met Heather in the delectable flesh. Before long she was his constant companion at the races and round about. The country set accepted her presence as a necessary evil - a man must have his oats. But when their marriage was announced, oh my God!’
‘I get the picture. Who were the bookmakers she worked for, d’you know?’
‘London. Some classy place in the West End.’
Kate wrinkled her nostrils thoughtfully. ‘I wonder . . .’
‘Now look what you’ve gone and done, Richard,’ said Felix crossly. ‘She’s off on some new trail. You ought to be a calming influence on the girl, that’s what you ought to be. Not sticking pins in to goad her
into action.’
‘Oh, Felix, do leave off,’ Kate protested.
‘I might do that,’ she said, with a glance at her now-empty glass, ‘if I had something to keep my mouth otherwise engaged.’ |
‘For heaven’s sake, Richard, be a darling and fetch her another large Scotch to keep her quiet.’
* * * *
An air of somnolence lay over the Incident Room when Kate arrived back. She guessed there was no one on the squad who wouldn’t have preferred to be enjoying the Saturday sunshine with friends or family. The case, she knew, was in danger of losing momentum. There was plenty being done, but it was mostly a matter of routine enquiries. What was needed was an injection of excitement, and it was her job to provide it. Only she couldn’t think how.
She signalled her sergeant to follow her upstairs to her office.
‘That scrap of newspaper I found in Slater’s flat in London,’ she began. ‘Richard Gower tells me it’s from the Express, dated 8th May. Feed that fact into the records, will you? And there’s another bit of information that came my way over lunch which I want followed up, Tim. Apparently Heather Bletchley once worked for a firm of bookmakers in London, before she married the major. Somewhere in the West End. Could it be, my suspicious mind wonders, that it was the selfsame bookmaker that Barry Slater once worked for? And if so, what might it signify?’
‘Hey, that is interesting. I’ll shove it into the works, guv, and we’ll see what comes up.’
‘Whatever does,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘I still think that Knox will be the prime candidate for Slater’s killer. But what niggles me slightly regarding Knox’s place on the list is that by the time he discovered about Jillian and Slater - only last Monday - the incident was already fading into history.’
‘Even so, finding out about it must have sent a guy like him up the wall.’
‘Agreed. We know that Knox has a vile temper beneath that smooth exterior. I’d be happier about his potential as our killer, though, if we could discover that there’d been something more recent between Jillian and Slater. The way I see it, there has to have been, if Knox felt driven to killing the man.’
‘So what do we do? Tackle Jillian again?’
‘Yes, I think perhaps we should see what we can squeeze out of her. And there’s no time like now.’
But, frustratingly, it emerged that Jillian was unavailable. According to the Murdochs’ next-door-neighbours, the family had gone to visit friends somewhere in Wiltshire. So it had to wait till next day.
Chapter Thirteen
Gravity prevailed when Jillian Murdoch was shown into Kate’s office on Sunday morning.
‘Please sit down.’ Kate rested her hands on the desk and linked her fingers. ‘I’m not sure if you realise, Miss Murdoch, what a very serious position PC Denby is in through trying to help you. Giving false information to the police in a murder enquiry is bad enough in any circumstances. But in his case, as a serving police officer, he has put his whole career in jeopardy.’
Tears brimmed in her lovely eyes. ‘You won’t be too hard on him, will you? Please. I feel so terrible about it. I didn’t ask Martin to lie for me, honestly. It was his idea. He said it would save me going through a lot more questioning and unpleasantness. I know that I shouldn’t have agreed to let him make up that story, but it was such a relief when he suggested it.’
‘What exactly is your relationship with Martin Denby?’ Kate asked.
‘How . . . how do you mean?’
Kate allowed her impatience to show. ‘If he was willing to commit a serious offence in order to protect you, Jillian, you and he must be pretty close. I want to know just how close.’
‘We’re not... if that’s what you mean.’ The girl glanced unhappily at Boulter.
‘Not sleeping together?’
‘No.’ |
Kate said sardonically, ‘You must forgive me for wondering, after the episode with Barry Slater.’
She flushed deeply. ‘That was different. I ... I already explained about that.’
‘So you and Martin are just good friends. Is that what you’re saying?’
A nod of the head and a mumbled yes.
‘I gather from Martin that you first met on an Outward Bound course about three years ago.’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell me about it.’
Some of the distress left her face and her eyes became warmer as she recollected. ‘Martin and I sort of hit it off right away. The course wasn’t for very long, but we spent a lot of time together. I’ve never met anybody else I could talk to the way I could Martin . . . you know, about your real thoughts and feelings. I wasn’t feeling very happy just around then, because . . . well, I don’t suppose you know, but I’m adopted. And I’d only just found out about it. It turned out that my real parents had been killed when I was a baby - I know that’s true - and there was no one else who could look after me. My adoptive parents explained that they’d thought it was the kindest thing never to tell me, not ever. I suppose they meant it for the best, but I was terribly upset about it when I accidentally found out the truth.’
‘So you talked it all over with Martin?’
‘Yes, that helped me a lot. He was wonderful. He really seemed to understand how I felt. He encouraged me to be myself- not to worry about who my parents were, but just be me. And I know that was good advice, only it was so difficult. Anyway, after the Outward Bound course finished, Martin and I tried to keep in touch. But we lived fifty miles apart, and I had my “A” levels and everything. We used to write to each other, and he came to see me a few times on his motor bike. But Mother and Dad - I call them that - they didn’t approve of Martin, and they let him see it.’ She sighed. ‘They’ve always been very good to me and of course I’m grateful, but I’m afraid they’re inclined to be ... you know.’
Snobs!
‘Your parents froze Martin out, that’s what you’re saying?’
A quick, unhappy nod. ‘I suppose I must have been a big disappointment to them, and I’m sorry about that. I’ve tried to be what they wanted me to be, but I just can’t be, not always. I mean, it is my life, isn’t it?’
‘When did you become engaged to Sebastian Knox?’
‘At Christmas, that’s when it was made official. But it’s been a sort of understood thing for a long time. I’ve always known Sebastian because his father and mine were friends, and then when Sebastian started showing that he was keen on me, I felt. . . well, sort of flattered. I mean, by most people’s standards it would be the perfect match. He’s a respected professional man, from a good family, and as his wife I’d be very well placed in life.’
Obviously she was quoting what had been drummed into her time and again. Relentless pressure. Trading on her natural feelings of gratitude to the people who had taken her in.
‘From everything you’ve said to me, Jillian, it strikes me that you’re by no means certain now about wanting to marry Sebastian.’
She flushed a bright red. ‘I don’t really think I can go through with it, not now. I’m not in love with him, and it wouldn’t be right, would it, to marry someone I didn’t love just for those reasons?’
‘Have you told Sebastian that you don’t want to marry him?’
‘No, not yet: But I’m going to, very soon. I know he’ll be really angry about it - and my parents will be - but they ought to realise by now, all of them, that it wouldn’t work out, our getting married.’
‘But you have, I presume, discussed the whole matter with Martin Denby?’
Jillian hesitated, looking wretchedly at Kate. She’d be wondering how she could best put things to help Martin out of trouble.
‘I want the truth, Jillian. It’s too late for any more lies or evasions.’
She nodded, casting her eyes down. ‘I’d been feeling so confused and miserable, knowing I ought to break things off with Sebastian but not knowing how to do it without upsetting everybody. Then two weeks ago, right out of the blue, Martin got in touch with me. He explai
ned how he’d recently been transferred to this area and he’d been thinking about contacting me. Then he happened to see my picture in the local paper, because of a sponsored swim I’d done, and he found out where I worked and phoned me up. It was wonderful to hear from him again, and we arranged to meet that evening. Luckily, I hadn’t got a date with Sebastian. I told Martin that I was engaged, of course, but . . . well, he was such a good listener and I badly needed someone to confide in ... about Barry, and the awful mess I’d got myself into and things.’
‘You’ve been doing quite a lot of confiding in Martin during these past two weeks, I imagine?’
She flushed. ‘Well, yes. It hasn’t been easy, us meeting, because I didn’t want my parents to find out and start a row. But we’ve seen each other whenever we got the chance, usually just for a short time.’
‘One of those short times being after I interviewed you previously on Wednesday?’
‘Yes, we met during my tea break that afternoon. I told Martin ail about how you seemed to suspect me of killing Barry, and how awful it was that I couldn’t prove I was innocent because my parents had been out that evening so I was on my own at home. That’s when Martin thought up the idea of telling you that he’d been with me. He said you’d be sure to believe him, seeing that he was a policeman. Please, Chief Inspector - try to understand. He only did it for my sake. I mean, it isn’t that he takes his job lightly or anything. He’s terribly keen and serious about being in the police. He just didn’t think there’d be any real harm in saying he was with me, because he knew that I hadn’t killed Barry.’
Against her will, Kate couldn’t help feeling sympathy for the two silly youngsters who’d got themselves into such a mess. Whether or not either of them realised it yet, they were hopelessly in love with each other. She just had to hope that they could survive the problems that lay ahead.
Deadly Deceit Page 15
