She waved her warrant card in front of him. ‘I’m here about Danny Fenton. I believe you know him?’ The blood drained from Nicholson’s face. She decided to press on. ‘I’m DI Kate Matthews. Fenton’s named you as someone who can validate where he was on Monday night this week. I was hoping you could spare me a few minutes to answer some questions I have.’
His demeanour was suddenly changed. ‘I… uh… I…’
‘Perhaps it will be better if I come in, Mr Nicholson?’
He blinked several times, before stepping aside, reluctantly allowing her to enter.
The porch led into an entrance hall where a tall grandfather clock counted the passing seconds. There was a door to the left but he led her straight ahead, past the staircase and through to the dining room at the rear of the house. He collapsed into one of the eight chairs around the oval table in the centre of the room.
She pulled out the chair next to his, and sat. ‘Are you okay, Mr Nicholson? You don’t look well.’
‘Hmm? What? Oh, yes, sorry, what were you saying?’
‘Danny Fenton claims he was with you at the time one of his properties burned down. I understand you may be willing to corroborate his version of events.’
He nodded.
‘Well, before you provide a formal statement, I—’
The look of panic returned to his eyes. ‘A formal statement? Will I have to go to court?’
She frowned. ‘Only if we have reason to believe that Mr Fenton was somehow involved with starting the fire; the Crown has the right to examine the evidence you’re providing. It’s nothing for you to worry about. It’s not as bad as they make it seem on the television. All you’d have to do is swear an oath and tell the court what you said in the statement you’re about to provide. So long as you don’t lie in your statement, you’ll be fine.’
He rubbed his temple. ‘My memory isn’t what it once was. What if I make a mistake?’
‘That’s why I’m here: so we can get your statement right. We can do this at the station, if you’d prefer—’
‘No, it’s out of the question.’
‘What is?’
‘I don’t have time for any of this. I’m a consultant, you know. I have clinics booked every day this week, so I’m afraid I’m not available to appear at the police station or in court.’
‘It doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid.’
‘But what about my medical responsibilities? What about the clinics already lined up?’
‘We can work around your prior engagements.’
He forced his body up and moved across to the patio doors.
She softened her tone. ‘Mr Nicholson? I know a police presence can be daunting for those unfamiliar with it. I assure you there’s nothing for you to worry about.’
‘You don’t understand.’ He opened the patio door, but didn’t step out, allowing the warm wind to envelop him.
Something was niggling at Kate. On paper, Nicholson was the perfect witness to deliver an alibi for Fenton: a respected consultant from a good family home would be enough to convince any jury. That was the problem: he was too perfect. It was as if Fenton had thumbed through the telephone directory looking for the perfect candidate.
The colour had yet to return to Nicholson’s cheeks, and the coating of sweat on his forehead made him look as though he might keel over at any moment.
She joined him at the patio door and looked out at the long lawn lined with exotic bush plants. Right at the very end was a decked area on which sat a pretty summer-house.
‘You have a beautiful garden, Mr Nicholson. Is it you or your wife who is green-fingered?’
‘What? Oh, yes, the garden.’ His tone softened. ‘It’s my wife’s passion. I mow the lawn twice a month in the summer, but the rest is her.’
‘I bet you’ve had a few garden parties with the weather we’ve had recently?’
‘Again, it’s my wife who is the socialite, not me.’
‘I’m envious. I’d give anything to swap my place for somewhere like this. It looks like you’ve found a piece of paradise here.’
Kate led him back to his chair and opened her notepad. ‘Take your time, and in your own words, describe what you were doing on Monday night.’
‘Is that the night when…?’
‘Yes.’
He bowed his head. ‘Let me see; of course, it was our wedding anniversary. My wife and I always host a party on our anniversary, for friends and the like; it was a dry evening, so the party was in the garden.’
‘Fenton was at the party?’
‘That’s right.’
‘It surprises me he would form part of your social circle. You two are from quite different backgrounds.’
‘He did some work on the house for us.’
‘What work did he undertake for you?’
‘He built that summer-house at the foot of the garden. Would you like to see it?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘The summer-house? As well as a conservatory?’
Nicholson scoffed. ‘A conservatory wouldn’t be in keeping with the cottage’s character. Besides, the end of the garden catches the sun for longer.’
‘What time did the party start?’
‘Around eight o’clock.’
‘And what time did it finish?’
He rubbed his chin. ‘Around eleven o’clock.’
‘Was Fenton at the party the whole time?’
‘I think so. I saw him at the start and he was one of the last guests to leave.’
‘So, Mr Fenton left at about eleven o’clock like the rest of the guests?’
‘That’s right.’
Nicholson was almost as unreliable a witness as one of Fenton’s employees would have been. Kate decided it was time to confront Fenton about what really happened that night, but this time under caution.
Nicholson led her back to the front door, looking relieved, as he closed it behind her, that she was going. She walked across to her car and put her briefcase in the boot, turning at the sudden sound of tyres scraping the gravel. A dark saloon parked directly behind the Audi, blocking her exit.
Kate marched over and tapped on the driver’s window. ‘Would you mind backing up, so I can…?’
Her words trailed off when she saw the muzzle of a handgun staring back at her through the rear passenger window.
‘Get in the car.’
She took a step backwards, but before she could turn and run, the rear door burst open, and a large man grabbed her arms and forced her into the back of the car beside him. The door slammed shut.
15
Kate’s eyes hadn’t left the handgun since she’d been forced into the back of the car. The man holding it, the one who’d bundled her in, wasn’t comfortable. His knees were practically touching his chin; he could have doubled for Lurch from The Addams Family, complete with a flat cap. He wore sunglasses, and didn’t look in the mood to talk. The driver was overweight, and seemed as if he might need to be peeled from the seat around him. What little hair he had left clung to the base of his head, but that only served to highlight the pastiness of the scalp above it. One of them needed a stronger antiperspirant, but she couldn’t tell which.
She hadn’t said a word so far, trying to sense how they might react to the news they had just shoved a gun into the face of a senior police officer. Such a statement should have been enough to scare them into releasing her, but what if it tipped them over the edge instead?
She’d told Patel she was going to visit Fenton’s witness, but she’d taken the scribbled address with her. Would Patel remember what he’d written down? Straining to look back at the cottage, she couldn’t see Nicholson. Would he even hear her if she tried to scream? She bit her lip, thinking quickly through her options.
The driver leered at her. ‘You’re a lot prettier in person than I’d expected, Kate.’
Her shoulders tensed at the sound of her name. ‘You know my name, then you should also know what I am. You’re breaking several laws by wavi
ng that thing in my face.’
The driver nodded at Lurch to holster the weapon, and he duly obliged. ‘I just wanted to make sure we had your attention.’
‘What do you want?’
‘We work for Danny.’
‘Danny? As in Fenton? Fenton told you to abduct me?’
‘We’ve hardly abducted you, luv,’ he said in broad Bristolian. ‘We’re just here to have a little chat with you is all.’
‘A little chat? What about?’
‘About these allegations you’re conjuring against him. He was nowhere near that bloody warehouse when it went up, like. You see?’
She kept her eyes on his in the rear-view mirror. ‘And I’m just expected to take your word for it?’
‘I’m telling you the truth, luv: he didn’t start that fire.’
‘How long have you and Fenton worked together?’
He rubbed his chin, before turning back and smiling. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Must be ten years, at least. He’s a mint guy, is Danny: knows how to take care of his team. You don’t want to get on his wrong side, mind.’
‘You see how it’s difficult for me to trust your word, though, right?’
‘I have no reason to lie to you, luv.’
‘But you know where he really was on Monday night?’
The smile was replaced with a scowl. ‘You know where he was. He’s told you.’
‘I know where he said he was, but I also know Nicholson’s lying.’
‘Well, that’s where he was. We all were, weren’t we?’
The tall guy next to her grunted.
She snapped her fingers together and pointed at the driver. ‘You’re Jimmy Torero, Fenton’s right-hand man?’
‘At your service, my luv.’
She scoffed. ‘Well, now I definitely don’t believe anything you have to say. You probably held the box of matches while he struck the first one. I am curious about why he decided to kill—’ She stopped herself before saying any more. Torero didn’t pick up on her slip. ‘You’re sticking to the story that you were at Nicholson’s party on Monday night?’
‘That’s right. It was a gert lush night. There were vol-au-vents and all.’
‘Fenton told me you were there for some grand unveiling of a conservatory. Nicholson said it was an anniversary party for him and his wife. You can see why I find it difficult to ignore such a discrepancy.’
‘Ah, the thing you need to know about the doc is: his mind’s not all there. He gets himself easily confused.’
‘Oh come on, pull the other one. I don’t believe for a second you three spent the night at Nicholson’s party. And if I don’t believe it then it means Fenton was somewhere else, and I have to wonder why he’d lie to me.’
He fixed her with a cold stare that sent a shiver down her spine. ‘He didn’t do it. Okay? What happened in that warehouse has nothin’ to do with the boss. You need to look elsewhere.’
‘I should arrest you for waving that gun at me and threatening my life.’
He didn’t sound threatened. ‘Well, that’s probably true, my luv, but then you don’t have any witnesses to this little conversation, and we have a dozen friends who’ll put us miles from here right now, so you’d be wasting your time to pursue any other outcome.’
‘So that’s it? You’ve had your little chat, and now I’m free to go?’
Jimmy nodded at Lurch, who exited the car, leaving the door open for her to climb out. She kept her eyes on Jimmy as she slid from the back seat, straightening her blouse and jacket as she stepped out onto the gravel drive. Lurch climbed into the front and the two of them drove off.
It was a silly move on Fenton’s part. If he wanted her to believe he wasn’t involved in Watson’s death and the subsequent fire, he was going the wrong way about it. That said, there was something a little too convenient about the way events were unfolding. Why would he lure Watson to his own warehouse to execute him? And why would he then torch the place and draw so much attention to it?
In all her experience of East End goons, when they wanted to get rid of a body, they did it quietly, and it was rare that the bodies ever turned up. Was Fenton really so stupid? He was smooth and confident on first impression, and clearly knew more than he was letting on, but was he guilty? She thought it was time they had a more formal conversation.
She pulled out her phone and saw she’d missed three calls from her mother’s nursing home. She rested her head on the steering wheel. It was bound to be because her brother hadn’t paid his half of the bill again, but that could wait. Instead, she sighed and dialled Patel.
‘Ma’am? How did it go with Fenton’s witness?’
‘He’s sticking to the script for now, but I’m sure he’s lying. With a bit of pressure, he’ll sing. But we can worry about that later. Have you managed to get a warrant for Fenton’s properties yet?’
‘Just sorting it now, ma’am. You want to do the raid tomorrow?’
‘I need to clear it with the supe first. We’re going to need uniform support to check each of his properties. I’ll head back now and see if I can catch him before he heads off to another meeting. Make sure the warrant is for all of his properties.’
Patel acknowledged and hung up.
She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing for a moment, and when she opened her eyes again it was with the distinct feeling she was being watched. There was nobody around and Nicholson wasn’t at the window, but it was time to leave.
16
Kate grimaced as she sipped the coffee that had been on her desk for longer than she’d realised. She carried it out to the sink and returned with a fresh mug. ‘Sorry, Patel, did you want a coffee?’
He raised the bottle of mineral water from his desk. ‘No, thanks, ma’am, the wife’s got me on a health kick at the moment. I’m only allowed one tea or coffee per day, and I’ve already cheated by having two first thing. You carry on. The filter’s clean.’
She considered him a moment, smiling to herself. He wasn’t athletically built, but there wasn’t much fat on him either; certainly not compared to the rest of the male members of the team.
‘Where’s Laura?’
‘Haven’t seen her since before lunch, ma’am.’
‘Okay, never mind, let’s go with what we’ve got.’ She pointed at the large whiteboard. ‘Devil’s advocate: you string together the case against Fenton, and I’ll try and pick holes in your argument. Go.’
He cleaned his glasses and stared at the whiteboard. ‘Okay, Harold Watson is at his daughter’s restaurant in Town Quay around nine, when he receives a phone call. He tells Nicola it’s from Fenton—’
‘Have we checked the phone records? Are we even certain Watson received a call?’
Patel rummaged through some papers on his desk, before passing her a printout. ‘Watson was called by a local Southampton number at 21.20 on Monday. The call lasted eleven minutes and twenty-three seconds. We traced the number to a club in Bedford Place—’
‘Who owns the club?’
‘Officially, the club is owned by the Leisure and Trade Corporation, which we know to be Fenton’s.’
‘Have we got any documentation confirming Fenton owns the firm? Can you check with Companies House to see if he’s listed as a director of some sort?’
Patel jotted the instruction in his pad. ‘Nicola reports that her father left in a hurry shortly after the call ended. She described him as anxious and concerned, which was out of character for him, leading her to believe that the telephone call had caused the change in temperament.’
‘Have we checked her place for security cameras? It would be good to be able to assess the body language ourselves.’
‘She has cameras at the entrance to the restaurant and one facing the bar till. We have a clip of him arriving. He hands her a large bouquet of flowers and embraces her. We see him leaving at 21.34, but we only see the back of his head. It’s a stretch, but I think we can argue that if everything was normal, he probably would have hugged her
again before leaving, maybe thanked her for dinner, but he does neither. He has one thing on his mind: getting out of there.’
‘Stop! If you can only see him from behind, you cannot speculate on his mood. I think you make a valid point, but it isn’t an argument we can rely on.’
Unperturbed by her interruption, Patel continued. ‘Nicola follows him from the restaurant in her own car.’
‘Yeah, why did she say she did that again?’
He reviewed the statement in front of him. ‘Uh, she said she was worried about him, no wait, she was worried about what he might do to Fenton.’
‘But she was several cars behind, right? There’s no way she could have been certain he was going to see Fenton until she arrived at his warehouse on the docks. There are a number of businesses over that way, and Watson could have been going to any of them. The first time she could have been certain was when she saw him enter the warehouse. There must be something else she’s not telling us. Make a note to follow up on that, will you?’ She paused and looked out of the window. ‘Does it strike you as odd that she followed her dad?’
‘In what way? She said she was worried he might do something.’
‘That’s my point: why was she worried? She told us their relationship was strained, at best, right? She said something about only ever seeing him at Christmas and on her birthday, so would she really be concerned at all about his behaviour? Even if we stretch disbelief and accept that she was, what did she think he could do? He was in his mid-fifties, and hardly the picture of health from what I’ve seen. Fenton is ten years younger. In a fight, my money wouldn’t be on Watson.’
‘Maybe he was armed.’
She shook her head. ‘There’s no evidence that he was. He arrived at the warehouse by taxi, and no weapons were found at the scene. Nicola didn’t mention that she thought he was armed, which you’d think she would have done to support her feelings of anxiety.’
‘So, you think she’s lying?’
Kate pulled a face. ‘I don’t know. Something just doesn’t feel right. Do you know what I mean?’
‘Are you sure you’re not overthinking it, ma’am? With the recent… issues we’ve faced, maybe you’re being overly paranoid about your instincts.’
Dead to Me: A serial killer thriller (Detective Kate Matthews Crime Thriller Series Book 1) Page 6
