by Gwyn GB
Gavin collapsed back onto the bed and put his head into his hands.
‘All this is for nothing. I swear to you I didn’t kill him,’ he added.
‘I have a question for you, Mr Simons,’ Harrison spoke now. ‘If you’re telling the truth, then it will help us find the real killer.’
Gavin looked up and studied the big man in front of him.
‘OK.’
‘The invitation. How did you get it to Paul?’
‘I took it round in the early hours of the morning and put it in the postbox.’ He shrugged. ‘Made sure no one saw me.’
‘OK, thank you.’
Jack and Harrison turned to leave.
‘What about me, what happens now?’
‘I’m sure your lawyer has told you that you can be held for twenty-four hours without charge, after which we would have to apply to keep you longer, but only if there was good evidence that you were about to be charged.’
‘You going to charge me with murder?’
‘Mr Simons, I can’t tell you that right now. We need to carry on our investigation and will be back in a couple of hours.’
Gavin Simons swore again and flounced back onto the metal bed.
‘There’s not enough to charge him with murder,’ Harrison said to Jack as they walked down the corridor and out of the building to the car park.
‘No, but attempted assault is on the cards, for sure. Let him sweat for a bit longer. He might feel like being more honest with us once we’ve heard back from Dr Marshall about those finger marks.’
The Three Oaks Stables yard was quiet when they arrived, no signs of Scott Smith, which was a first, and so Jack and Harrison drove straight to Richard Carter’s house and knocked on the front door. There was no reply. The two men listened and caught the distant murmur of voices. Harrison peered through the windows while Jack walked around the side of the house.
‘They’re in the garden.’ He motioned to Harrison.
Down the side of the house, and into the back, where they came to a fenced off lawn area. At the end was a group of people all stood staring at the ground in front of them. Harrison strained to see what they were looking at. It was a tiny mound of earth with a small wooden cross sticking up.
The group comprised Richard, his wife, two young children, and Scott Smith. One of the little girls was reading something, while the rest stood reverently listening.
Scott saw Jack and Harrison first and nudged Richard, who raised his eyes heavenward, shook his head and, after whispering something to his family, walked over to them.
‘We’re sorry to intrude,’ Jack said. ‘We need access to Paul’s cottage, and I understand you have the key?’
‘I gave it to the forensics team on Sunday,’ Richard replied. ‘Don’t you people talk to each other?’
‘Our understanding was that it had been returned,’ Jack replied politely, not rising to the tone in Richard’s voice.
Behind them, the solemn gathering was breaking up, and the children and their mother were heading back to the house. Scott limped up alongside Richard.
‘Scott, did Paul’s cottage key get handed back?’ he asked him.
‘Yes, it did. I have it in my office, sorry that was yesterday and I’d forgotten to bring it back to the house.’
‘No problem, you wouldn’t mind getting it for these gentlemen, would you?’ he asked.
‘Of course,’ Scott replied and picking up the spade that had been placed on the lawn post-grave-digging, walked off to retrieve it.
‘One of the pups?’ Harrison nodded towards the tiny grave at the end of the garden.
‘Yes,’ Richard replied a little surprised that he had worked it out. ‘Unfortunately, it was born with some severe health problems. We had five healthy ones, but that little fella was going to have a lifetime of trouble and pain.’
‘That must have been upsetting for the kids to see it being put to sleep then,’ Jack said, thinking forward to when they might get a pet for Daniel.
‘Actually, Scott dispatched it for me. I couldn’t do it and was going to call the vet, but he said he’d sort it out. Then we told the kids that it had died in its sleep, so they were none the wiser.’
‘Don’t think I could have done that either,’ Jack said grim faced. ‘Not a little puppy.’
‘Yes, I was surprised Scott offered. I think he must be more of a cat man. Got all upset when we found a mummified cat in the walls of the old hay barn, where we’re doing the staff accommodation renovations. Never seen him so animated.’
‘Really? Mummified cat?’ Harrison asked.
‘It was buried in the wall. Workmen said they’ve found all sorts of things in old buildings. People used to put them there to ward off evil spirits apparently.’
‘That’s right, they did,’ Harrison replied. ‘What happened with the cat?’
‘Well, there were various suggestions as to what to do with it. The kids wanted to bury it, I wanted to give it to a local museum, but Scott said it had to go back.’
‘What’s that?’ Scott had come up behind them as they were talking.
‘The cat we found in the walls of the old hay barn.’
‘Yeah. I thought it was only right that it went back. It was a part of the history of that building,’ Scott replied, throwing a glance at Harrison. ‘Here’s the key to Paul’s.’ He dropped it into Jack’s palm.
Jack could barely keep up with Harrison as they walked over to the cottage. He was taking huge strides that left him feeling like a kid running after a parent.
‘What are we looking for?’ he asked his back.
‘The answer to the question, how the murderer knew when The Horsemen were meeting if he wasn’t one of them. It’s possible it wasn’t through Paul’s invites, but as he was the first one killed and the killer was there the night only Paul was invited to the barn, it makes sense that it was Paul’s invites being monitored.’
‘Yep, I’d concur with that,’ Jack replied, knowing full well that it didn’t matter whether he agreed or not. He could tell that Harrison had the bit between his teeth on something, and nothing was going to stop him from following its trail.
They came to a screeching halt on the footpath that led up to the front door.
‘There’s no letter box. No means to post anything through the door,’ Harrison said, looking around for some kind of external postbox.
‘Could it be a box at the end of the road? That’s quite common in more rural areas, avoids the need for the postie to walk up long drives.’
‘Could be,’ Harrison replied and promptly strode off down the driveway.
Rather than feel like some kind of infant school child trailing after his teacher, Jack headed into the cottage. He’d not looked around it before.
The hallway and sitting-room were a homage to the horse, not surprisingly. On the table there were two plates with fuzzy mould growing across their surface. Neither plate had a fork, just a knife, and Jack guessed those had been bagged by forensics.
He wandered from room to room, looking at the home of a ghost man, and feeling his own mortality. Here one day. Gone the next.
Somebody would have to come and clear Paul’s belongings out one day soon. Perhaps it would be his parents, or maybe Richard would arrange for a stranger to box everything up so that those who had known Paul didn’t have to see his life reduced to cardboard containers.
Jack walked over to where some letters sat on the side and peered at the address. Three Oaks Stables Cottage it read. That didn’t help work out how the letter had got there.
The sound of heavy footsteps crunching up the path and the door being opened let him know Harrison had returned from his hunt.
‘Found it?’ he asked.
‘It’s one postbox, at the end of the lane that leads into the yard. We need to find out who has access to it. Someone has to collect the mail each day. Maybe one of the CCTV cameras captured them.’
With that, Harrison disappeared again. Jack sighed, to
ok one last look at Paul Lester’s home, and closed the front door. He had to jog to catch-up with Harrison’s fast disappearing back.
Harrison took a different route around the staff accommodation block this time, because he was heading to Scott’s office, where he guessed the CCTV cameras might be monitored. It would explain how Scott was always so quick to greet people as they arrived in the yard. As he rounded the old hay loft, he nearly tripped over a pile of old horseshoes, rusting in a mound. He quickened his pace.
Scott’s office door was closed. Harrison banged on it and tried the handle. It was locked. He spun around to head back up to the house just as Jack caught up with him.
‘Scott’s not in,’ he said to him as he walked past determinedly.
Richard answered the banging on his door with a weary face.
‘We need access to the CCTV camera recordings,’ Harrison said bluntly.
‘That’s Scott’s department. Try his office.’
‘He’s not in, it’s locked.’
‘Really? OK, he must have popped out for some supplies. Give me a moment and I’ll get the spare key for the office door.’
Richard disappeared back into the house, but didn’t invite Harrison or Jack in with him.
‘I have the feeling he’s getting tired of us,’ Jack said with a smile.
Harrison didn’t smile back.
‘What are you thinking?’ Jack asked him, recognising that face.
‘I’m thinking we’re getting close to our man,’ Harrison replied, somewhat cryptically.
Jack was about to ask for more information when Richard reappeared with a key. Harrison held out his hand.
‘If you don’t mind, I’ll let you in,’ Richard said to him.
Harrison put his hand down and stepped to one side.
The three of them processioned back to the stable office. Past the boxes of thoroughbred horses, most of whom were too busy munching or snoozing, to bother looking at them pass.
‘How did Scott get his leg injury?’ Harrison asked.
‘The limp? That’s his back. Flares up every now and then. He had a particularly nasty fall that ended his jockeying career about a decade or so ago. Killed another lad, a friend of his, outright. A big pile-up it was. Two horses had to be euthanised too.’
‘I think I remember that,’ Jack said. ‘Caused a big wave in racing.’
‘It did.’ Richard nodded. ‘But safety improved as a result. Shame it had to be a death and injury that caused it though.’
They’d arrived at the office door.
‘I’m sure Scott won’t be long,’ Richard said as he plunged the key into the lock. ‘He’s the one who knows everything about the CCTV.’
Harrison watched as Richard tried to turn the key, but it stayed static, refusing to budge.
‘That’s strange,’ Richard said, pulling the key back out of the lock and looking at the label on it. The label read, Spare Stable Office. He put it back into the key hole, but again it refused to turn.
‘Give me a few minutes will you? I’ll go and double check there’s not another one.’
Richard didn’t wait for an answer. He was off up to the house.
Jack looked at Harrison with a raised eyebrow.
‘I think I understand what you mean now about getting close,’ he said.
29
Richard returned with a handful of keys.
‘I’m sure that’s the right one,’ he said to them, more concerned about finding the right key to his stable office than keeping them happy. He plunged a succession of keys into the lock. None of them worked. ‘Maybe there’s a knack to it,’ he said, putting the original key back in and jiggling it around.
‘Got any WD40?’ Jack asked hopefully.
‘Yeah, in the garage. OK, be right back.’
Richard almost ran off. It was clear he was getting agitated now. There were no windows to peer into the office, and Harrison was getting impatient. He wandered off around the yard, staring up at the CCTV cameras. When he saw Richard returning with the blue and yellow can of lubricant, he rejoined them at the office door.
Richard squirted some of the lubricant into the lock, spraying it all around, until liquid seeped out and dribbled down the door. Then he put the key back in, jiggled it a bit again and tried to turn it. Nothing.
‘Shall I try?’ Jack asked.
Richard said nothing but stepped back. His mouth drawn; eyes worried.
‘I don’t get it,’ he said. ‘We’ve not had any locks changed and I know that this key used to fit because I occasionally worked from this office, up until about a year ago.’
‘Mr Carter, we have reason to be concerned for a man’s safety. Do I have your permission to force entry into this office?’ Harrison’s patience had worn out.
‘Are you serious?’ Richard looked from one man to the other.
Jack looked at Harrison. He wasn’t sure which man’s safety Harrison had in mind, but he nodded solemnly at Richard.
‘OK, yes, then do it. If Scott’s in danger…’ Richard trailed off, his face showing the panic that was building up inside of him.
Harrison walked up to the door and leant on it to test its strength. It didn’t look particularly solid. He used his weight to bounce on it a few times and felt the door frame crack and creak beneath his force.
‘Do you need a crowbar or something?’ Richard asked.
Harrison didn’t reply. He stepped back and then rammed his shoulder and upper torso into the wooden door. A splintering crack met him, and with one last shove, the door swung open in his hand. For a moment, all three men stood there.
‘I’d better go in first,’ Jack said to them.
Jack walked in tentatively. The office was small. Brick walls had been painted cream to make it look less like a dungeon, and there were some filing cabinets and a desk with a computer screen, plus another smaller desk with a screen that was showing the CCTV output. Jack stepped forward and peered behind the desk.
‘Clear. There’s no one in here.’
‘I still don’t understand why that key didn’t work,’ Richard said, as he followed them into the office.
‘How many cameras do you have?’ Harrison moved the conversation on.
‘Ten, placed around the yard.’
‘I only counted nine,’ Harrison replied, peering at the screen with the various shots.
‘Is there one that covers the end of the drive?’
‘Not really the end. There’s one that covers the drive itself, so you can see everything coming and going.’
‘What kind of car does Scott drive?’ he asked Richard.
‘An old black Ford Fiesta.’
Harrison clicked on the screen and went into replay mode on the camera that covered the drive. It wasn’t long before they saw Scott’s car driving out.
‘He left fifteen minutes ago. Straight after he’d given us the key for Paul’s cottage,’ he said to them.
‘There’s nine camera feeds up. Are you sure there is a tenth?’
‘Yeah, positive. Let me take a look.’
Richard took over the mouse and clicked into settings. Sure enough, there was a tenth camera listed, but for some reason it hadn’t been added to the monitoring screen. When he ticked the box to add it, a view of Paul’s cottage came up.
‘Oh, now I never knew we had one looking out over the cottage.’ Richard looked panicky. ‘I’d have told you when you first came if I knew.’
There were a few moments silence in the office as minds worked feverishly through the mounting evidence. Richard’s face had visibly paled by the time Harrison spoke again.
‘Who is it that collects the post in the morning?’
‘It’s Scott.’
‘Always?’
‘Yes.’
‘Mr Carter, we are going to need to take a look in Scott’s room.’
‘Right. Yes. OK.’ Was all he could muster.
Harrison’s mobile phone started to vibrate in his pocket, but he ignore
d it. He was convinced Scott was the killer. That very first day he’d seen him adjust the horse box lock, he should have known he was OCD. It had to be somebody who had access to Paul’s post for him to know when The Horsemen invitations arrived. He would have followed him, like Gavin had done, and he could have watched him, monitoring his comings and goings on the CCTV. The big questions was, why?
Richard led them to the old hay barn that now served as staff accommodation. Jack had a quick look around. Inside on the ground floor was a kitchen, relatively new and clean, with stickers on cupboard doors carrying names of people the contents belonged to.
In the middle was a bathroom with shower, bath, and toilet.
‘We’re ripping out the bathroom next week,’ Richard said by way of apology for the tired state of the fittings. Harrison wasn’t interested in decor.
At the other end of the ground floor was the sitting-room. They had a quick look in there, but it gave up nothing other than to show it as a place where people relaxed and watched TV. Copies of horse magazines and the Racing Post were scattered around the place, and the fireplace looked like some work had recently been done to it, with a new heater in situ.
‘That’s where they found the cat.’ Richard pointed at the chimney area.
Upstairs, there was a narrow corridor with four doors. Two along the front wall, two along the back. There was the sound of music playing.
‘This is Scott’s room,’ Richard said, arriving at the second door along the back, opposite the one where they could hear music. ‘I feel like we’re invading his privacy doing this.’
‘We can take it from here,’ Jack said. He took the key from Richard’s hand and put on a pair of gloves. At the sight of them, Richard stepped back.
‘Please stay here, Mr Carter,’ Jack said to him.
Jack opened the door and stepped in first. Harrison knew to hang back, but without even entering the room, he could see the row of horseshoes which had been nailed above the door frame.
What met Jack’s eyes was an incredibly neat and tidy room, one where it was clear that everything had its place. The bed was immaculately made up, even the curtains seemed to have been straightened in neat, equal pleats. The next thing that struck him was the big crucifix above the bed.
