Plots and Errors
Page 38
Then they had their stroke of luck. Elizabeth’s detective had a video of Paul and Sandie at the cottage, and they were back on course; the police at last believed that it was Josh, and not Paul, who had been in the hotel room with Billy, and finally got round to arresting them. Then he and Sandie had just had to wait until they worked out that he could not have switched the tapes after Paul had left his incriminating message.
Because only Elizabeth could have done that. Only Elizabeth’s prints were on the tape. Only Elizabeth could have sent that fax. Only Elizabeth had no real alibi. Only Elizabeth had a real, solid motive. He and Sandie had timed this whole thing round two trips to London; Angela’s, at the Bank Holiday, and Elizabeth’s, last Saturday. Nothing over which they had any control had been left to chance, and it had worked. They had been released. So why were they back here?
‘And you’re wondering how come you’re not on the brink of inheriting everything in your brother’s will,’ said Lloyd. ‘Well, I did tell you, Mr Esterbrook, that Kathy Cope’s gentleman friend was still alive and kicking. And this,’ he said, producing a video in a plastic bag, ‘is the video, which is, I assure you, far from poor quality, and proof that it was Paul Esterbrook who was with Billy Rampton in the hotel room, not you.’
Finch cleared his throat. ‘Chief Inspector Lloyd is showing the suspect exhibit JH1, a video recovered from . . .’
Josh had never claimed that he had been in the hotel room with Billy. Indeed, he had denied it every time they had asked him about it. Told them that he was at Little Elmley. It wasn’t his fault that they hadn’t believed him.
‘I believe you murdered your stepmother and your half-brother, Mr Esterbrook,’ Lloyd went on, when Finch had finished. ‘You murdered them in order to inherit the Esterbrook Family Trust in its entirety. But I can assure you, whatever the outcome of our investigation, you will inherit nothing.’
Josh didn’t much mind, as long as Paul and Angela hadn’t got it. That was what he couldn’t have borne. Now that suspicion had been lifted from Paul, Elizabeth would get the lot, but that was all right. He had no animosity towards Elizabeth; he didn’t mind if she did well out of it.
But, if they couldn’t prove that he and Sandie had murdered all these people, and he doubted very much that they could, then he would be free. Even if he went to prison over having an illegal gun, he would still be free, freer than he had been for the last three years. And when he’d done his time, he would come out to Lazy Sunday and the cottage in Penhallin and Sandie. He would be very happy indeed with just that. Little Elmley wasn’t all that important to him, and he couldn’t care less about the money. It was the principle of the thing. So Josh said just two words, when he and Sandie were charged with the murders of Billy Rampton, and Paul and Angela Esterbrook.
‘Prove it.’
SCENE X – BARTONSHIRE.
Friday, October 3rd, 5.00 p.m.
Elizabeth’s House.
Sergeant Finch had been to see Elizabeth again; he had told her that they were charging Josh and Sandie with the murders of that boy and Angela and Paul. But, Sergeant Finch had said, he had to warn her that the case was largely circumstantial, and of such complexity that there was a real possibility that the CPS would feel unable to proceed with the prosecution on the grounds that there was insufficient evidence.
Elizabeth would infinitely prefer that the strange and murderous unit that Josh and Sandie had become was taken out of circulation, but she doubted that they would murder again. They had had an objective, and it had failed; she imagined that would be that. At least there was now no question mark hovering over Paul, and the Esterbrooks would at last repay their debt to her.
And in truth, it was Josh and Sandie that she had to thank for that.
SCENE XI – BARTONSHIRE.
Friday, October 3rd, 5.50 p.m.
Lloyd’s Office, Stansfield Police Station.
Judy could see Lloyd through the glass panel in his door, still working. She knocked and went in. ‘It’s going home time,’ she said.
‘Folie à deux, they call it,’ said Lloyd. ‘Two people who together commit a crime that neither would have committed singly. They think one’s madness rubs off on the other.’
‘Do you think Josh is mad? Like his mother?’
‘Not by the legal definition,’ he said. ‘He knows right from wrong.’ He put down his pen. ‘When the wind is southerly, he knows a hawk from a handsaw,’ he said, and smiled. ‘There was, you might say, method in his madness.’
Judy nodded. ‘They’re from Hamlet, right?’
‘Right. But Josh Esterbrook’s Ophelia joined forces with him when she went mad too – and had the foresight to use an aqualung, rather than drown. So he got the job done without all the shilly-shallying. But we can’t prove it.’ He ran a tired hand over the wisps of hair that still persisted in growing on his scalp. ‘I don’t think we have any tangible evidence at all, Judy. And I don’t think we’re going to get any.’
‘We’ve got the lies they told!’
‘What lies?’ He looked up at her. ‘Listen to the tapes. Find one provable lie she told you under caution.’
Judy thought about it. Sandie had admitted to lying when she had said she was just a decoy, but that hadn’t been said under caution, and was hardly proof that she had murdered anyone. It had been prompted, according to what was said under caution, by a desire not to admit to having had sexual relations with Paul Esterbrook, in view of her recent marriage. Judy had told her to save it for the jury, and the jury would believe it, especially when they heard it from Sandie Esterbrook. They had no proof that Josh knew what was going on between Sandie and Paul – the jury would accept that she had had to lie about that. And Judy wasn’t sure that Josh Esterbrook had told any lies at all.
For the most part, they had been playing the role of people who had been set up themselves; they had told the truth. They had told them how Paul’s prints had got on the gun, that he really had made that call a month previously – even told them that Paul Esterbrook had been with Billy in the hotel room. As Judy went through her notes, she couldn’t find a single one to indicate that either of them had ever said anything different, and that was the point on which the whole case, such as it was, rested.
‘I’m just drafting the statement on the Copes’ deaths,’ Lloyd said. ‘ ‘‘No one else is being sought in connection with the incident’’ isn’t too difficult a sentence, but my hand won’t write it. It keeps drawing top hats instead.’
Judy sat down. ‘I somehow don’t think you’re going to get a confession,’ she said.
‘No.’ He sighed. ‘It’s just so galling to think that a camera in Kathy’s kitchen clock watched Josh Esterbrook come in, a gun in one hand and a cylinder of carbon monoxide supplied by his wife in the other, watched him put Kathy’s tins of beans in the wrong place, pull on her rubber gloves, take out her Hoover, cut off its hose.’ He shook his head. ‘It was all there.’
The light was fading; autumn had truly arrived. Lloyd reached out and switched on his desk lamp, but nothing happened. ‘Someone forgot to put a shilling in the meter,’ he said. ‘Remind me to put in an application in triplicate for a new bulb, will you? I always forget until it gets dark ag—’ He stared at her.
Judy frowned. ‘What’s the matter?’ she said. ‘Have I come out in spots, or something?’
‘No,’ he said, smiling triumphantly, tearing up his top hats, picking up the phone, dialling Case’s extension. ‘Sir?’ he said. ‘I think we get an extra half-hour’s play since there is reasonable expectation of a result this evening.’ He grinned. ‘I’m drafting a new statement on the Copes’ death, or I will be, as soon as I’ve been back to the Copes’ house. ‘‘A man and woman have been arrested in connection with the incident and will appear before Stansfield magistrates tomorrow’’ – how does that sound?’
Judy was looking through her notes, trying in vain to find whatever it was that she must have missed.
‘Oh, yes, sir,
I’m sure. I’ll be back with the evidence before stumps are drawn, you have my word.’
Judy closed her notebook as he hung up, beaming at her.
‘You won’t find it in there,’ he said.
‘What won’t I find in here?’
‘Their electricity was cut off, Judy.’ He was as excited about that as she had ever seen him. ‘The Copes’ electricity was cut off at ten o’clock last Saturday morning – the tape hasn’t run itself back. It’s all still there.’
There was a moment when they just looked at one another, and then Lloyd thumped the desk. ‘We’ve got them!’ he shouted. ‘We’ve got them!’
The tape was retrieved, and proved to have almost exactly what Lloyd had described on it, including a quite beautiful shot of the cylinder of carbon monoxide, complete with the IMG logo. The Esterbrooks were charged with the murder of Katherine and Andrew Cope, and it was the end of the week, at last.
Judy and Lloyd walked out to the car park; she reached her car first, thinking about the Counsel’s Opinion she had been given free of charge. Hotshot was right; she should marry Lloyd. And if that seemed like a commitment too far, she should at least meet him halfway. She opened the door, then turned to Lloyd as he made to go towards his own car. ‘Assuming you don’t find another murder tomorrow morning,’ she said, ‘I think we should go house-hunting. Don’t you?’
He nodded, and walked off. She was a little puzzled, a little disappointed, by his lack of enthusiasm, but put it down to weariness. Then she saw his fist punch the air, heard a triumphant, whispered ‘Yes!’ and knew that she had been taken in by his acting skills.
Again.
CRITICAL ACCLAIM FOR
Jill McGown
Plots and Errors
‘A fast-moving crime thriller, which teases readers till the end . . . an entertaining detective story.’
Aberdeen Press and Journal
‘McGown always produces a slick, professional tale, and this is no exception.’
Yorkshire Post
Picture of Innocence
‘McGown has once again produced a classic English detective story and an entertaining read . . . She can be relied on to produce a first-rate puzzle.’
Sunday Telegraph
‘It’s a treat to come across a really good, traditional British murder mystery with almost as many suspects as there are fish in a herring shoal . . . You will enjoy finding out in this skilful and highly professional whodunnit.’
Western Morning News
Verdict Unsafe
‘With serpentine suspense, McGown weaves a net around her suspects . . . Thought-provoking, solidly plotted story-telling.’ Val McDermid,
Manchester Evening News
‘Verdict Unsafe confirms Jill McGown’s arrival as a heavyweight crime-fiction contender.’
Peterborough Evening Telegraph
A Shred of Evidence
‘Superior mystery fiction . . . Lloyd and Hill at the top of their form.’
Publishers Weekly
‘This tightly plotted story will keep you guessing until the very last page.’
Woman’s Weekly
Murder . . . Now and Then
‘Lavish with cumulative clues and revelations, McGown teases to the absolute, agonizing limit as murder ancient and modern are resolved.’
Sunday Times
‘A highly enjoyable who done what, when and why.’
Spectator
The Other Woman
‘McGown, as usual, delivers superior crafting, careful plotting and unexpected turns.’ Marcel Berlins,
The Times
The Murders of Mrs Austin and Mrs Beale
‘Careful plotting, strong characters and solid detection are the traditional virtues of Jill McGown’s stories.’
Scotland on Sunday
‘Jill McGown is a crisp writer and a spellbinding storyteller.’
Financial Times
Redemption
‘Impeccable plotting, alibi- and clue-weaving – an accomplished story that touches the heart.’ Felicia Lamb,
Mail on Sunday
‘With Redemption Jill McGown has definitely ensured promotion to the first division.’
Times Literary Supplement
Plots and Errors
Jill McGown was born in Argyll in 1947, but has lived in Corby since she was ten. After working in a solicitor’s office she joined the British Steel Corporation and during this time wrote the occasional short story. On being made redundant she turned to writing full-time and her first novel, A Perfect Match, appeared in 1983. Fourteen more have followed, most recently Verdict Unsafe, Picture of Innocence and Plots and Errors. The latest, No Deadly Medicine, is now available in hardback from Macmillan.
Also by Jill McGown in Pan Books
A Perfect Match
Redemption
Death of a Dancer
The Murders of Mrs Austin and Mrs Beale
The Other Woman
Murder . . . Now and Then
A Shred of Evidence
Verdict Unsafe
Picture of Innocence
First published 1999 by Macmillan
This edition first published 2001 by Pan Books
This electronic edition published 2011 by Pan Books
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
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ISBN 978-1-447-21746-6 EPUB
Copyright © Jill McGown 1999
The right of Jill McGown to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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