Geraldine reached the Incident Room seconds before the new detective chief inspector arrived. Tall and slim he approached the Incident Board, turned and threw a bright smile around the room, exhibiting the confidence of a successful man in his prime. Geraldine wondered how old he was. She wished her skirt wasn’t soaked in coffee. Their eyes met for an instant and she felt herself blushing, like a teenager.
‘Good morning, everyone,’ he said. He smiled easily round the room like a host welcoming guests to a party. ‘I’m James Ryder, your new Senior Investigating Officer. I’m deeply sorry to be taking on this investigation under such circumstances but I understand DCI Gordon is expected to make a full recovery. Despite this change of SIO it’s vital the investigation proceeds uninterrupted which means more pressure on everyone, I’m afraid. I’m as up to speed as I can be, but I’ll be spending the rest of the day catching up with the background to what’s been going on. In the meantime, we need to press on.’ He spun lightly on his heel and moved his arm across the board. His sleeve inched back to reveal an expensive watch. Geraldine noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
‘The square of glass found by SOCOs at the back of the Cliffs’ house has been examined by forensics. They’ve confirmed it was removed by the glass cutter used at the other recent burglaries. So there’s no doubt the same gang were at the Cliff house. They were presumably there on Friday night, as no break-in was reported before then.’ He looked around, like a popular lecturer in front of a class of students, and caught Geraldine’s eye. She gave a weak smile. ‘Why would the burglars have turned the gas on?’ the DCI went on without acknowledging her. ‘Could one of them have knocked it accidentally?’
‘It’s feasible,’ Geraldine answered his question. ‘The hob’s right in the centre of the room.’
‘And if the leak wasn’t caused by these intruders,’ the DCI went on, ‘I don’t need to spell out that we may be looking at a suspicious death. Mrs Cliff received a call at two twenty and went out soon after. She arrived at work within half an hour. At that time of night, it’s about a twenty minute drive away.’
‘She could’ve turned the gas on as she was leaving, and left it on by mistake,’ a sergeant suggested.
‘Is it possible she knocked the gas tap without realising?’ someone else asked.
Ryder looked at Geraldine who replied without looking at her notes. ‘She said she went straight out, through the front door. She didn’t go in the kitchen. She was in a hurry to get to work.’
The DCI nodded. ‘That fits with her timings, but it’s not conclusive. It would only have taken a few seconds to run into the kitchen. And she stood to inherit a million –’
‘More,’ Geraldine interrupted. She told the assembled team about old Mrs Cliff’s accusations. She glanced at her note book and read aloud. ‘She killed him to get her hands on my house.’
James Ryder listened, frowning. It was a different story from Sophie Cliff’s parents. The local CID had sent a sergeant round to question them.
‘How long had your daughter been married to Thomas Cliff?’
Sophie’s father answered. ‘Two years ago last August.’
‘They got married in the summer. It was a lovely wedding,’ her mother added. ‘We never thought we’d see her settle down.’
‘How would you describe the relationship?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Would you say it was a happy marriage?’
‘Oh yes. They worshipped each other,’ Sophie’s mother said.
‘It’s true. They could’ve been made for each other,’ her husband agreed. ‘And they’d moved into a beautiful house.’
‘We think they were planning to start a family.’
‘So there were no problems in the marriage that you were aware of?’
‘Quite the opposite, Sergeant,’ Sophie’s father said.
‘We never thought we’d see Sophie so settled and happy. She was a very shy girl, never had any significant relationships before Thomas. He was her first serious boyfriend.’
‘Her first friend, really.’
There followed a brief discussion between Sophie’s parents about how shy she had been while she was growing up.
‘It was all about computers with her, until she met Thomas,’ her father said.
‘How did they meet?’
Sophie and Thomas Cliff had met at work and, according to her mother, Sophie had fallen for him straight away. ‘They decided to get married after less than a month,’ she said. ‘We were amazed at first, but they were right for each other, and there was no reason to wait. They weren’t teenagers.’
‘You approved of the marriage then?’
‘Oh yes. We were pleased to see her settled and happy. And we hoped they might have a family. She’s our only child.’
‘And he was a very nice chap. Quiet, like her,’ Sophie’s father said.
‘What about his mother? Did she share your feelings?’
‘We only met her once, at the wedding.’
‘She was a sour faced woman,’ Sophie’s mother added. ‘But I suppose she was pleased for him. Why wouldn’t she be? He was as happy as Sophie.’
James Ryder was pacing up and down in front of the Incident Board. ‘Sophie Cliff certainly had motive, and opportunity,’ he said, ‘but it seems a ridiculous way to commit a murder, and she’s no fool. Why would she plan such a hit and miss affair? The gas air mix needs to reach a critical point for an explosion to occur. That might have happened after she returned home, because she did go back home, arriving not long after the explosion.’
‘But we don’t know she would’ve gone in if the explosion hadn’t already happened,’ Bennett pointed out. ‘She could have been cruising by to check if her husband had been blown up yet.’
‘It’s an unreliable way of killing someone,’ Geraldine agreed with the DCI. ‘There might not have been an explosion at all. Thomas Cliff could just as well have come down in the morning, noticed the gas was on, turned it off and opened all the windows. He might even have called the gas board to report a leak. He wasn’t necessarily going to die because of the leak.’
‘More insurance if the explosion took place,’ a female constable commented. ‘Not only does she get rid of the husband and come into her considerable inheritance, she can claim a new kitchen on the insurance as a bonus.’
‘A new kitchen? You think she might have wanted a new kitchen?’ the DCI repeated in surprise. The constable looked down, embarrassed. ‘It could’ve been a spur of the moment decision, a chance she saw and took, without really thinking it through,’ he went on, but he didn’t sound convinced.
‘Maybe something just snapped, she walked past the hob, the idea struck her, and she acted almost without thinking,’ Geraldine pursued his idea. ‘If she was desperate to be rid of him, that is.’
‘Or desperate to get her hands on his money,’ Peterson added. ‘But she didn’t go in the kitchen.’
‘So she said.’
‘Enough speculation,’ the DCI interrupted, suddenly firm. ‘Lots of possibilities, but we’re short on facts.’
A description of the stolen goods had been circulated to police stations nationwide. Sketches were being published on the front page of the local paper.
‘Someone’s got to come up with something tangible,’ Ryder said, a hint of petulance in his voice. Geraldine wondered if James Ryder was as easy going as he appeared. No doubt he was being badgered for a quick result. ‘The victims of the first break-in have confirmed the candlesticks are theirs, so we need to follow that up urgently, bring the junk dealer in to look at mug shots, see if he recognises anyone, as he couldn’t provide a good enough description for an Efit. And I want all witness statements reviewed. Remember, we’re looking at two suspicious deaths now. We don’t want any more. We’ve taken statements from all the households burgled. We need to visit them all again, check nothing’s been overlooked. We’re going to spread the net, interview Cliff’s work colleagues, and Sophie Cliff
’s colleagues and family. So let’s get on with it.
He paused and glanced down at his list. ‘I’m holding a press conference tomorrow morning.’ His blue eyes slid past Bennett and rested on Geraldine. ‘I’d like you there, Geraldine.’ Out of the corner of her eye, Geraldine thought she saw Bennett’s lips narrow faintly. Was he peeved, she wondered, or relieved.
‘Yes sir.’
‘Has anyone got anything else to add?’ the DCI asked, gazing round the assembled team. No one answered. ‘Let’s find these characters before there are any further incidents.’
24
Alibi
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, shoving the paper in my face like that? And what are you so jumpy about? You’re driving me nuts.’
‘Read it,’ Ray answered. ‘The front page. It’s about us.’ Cal glanced down at the paper and gave a bark of laughter. Brenda was curled up beside him on the sofa, clutching her bony knees to her chest. Cal pinched her cheek until she squealed.
‘See that, Bren? We’ve made the front page, me and Ray. We’re celebrities. We’re up there with the greats. Butch Cassidy and the other one. The Kray brothers. Bonnie and what’s-his-face.’
‘Bonnie and Clyde,’ Brenda said. ‘One of them was a woman. Are you the woman, then, Ray?’ She laughed.
‘What are you on about, stupid bitch?’ Cal pinched her cheek harder, until her eyes watered.
‘Just read it!’ Ray shouted, his pale eyes bulging.
Cal turned slowly and looked up at him. ‘Why don’t you read it to us,’ he suggested lazily. ‘And move over while you’re at it, retard. I can’t see the telly.’
Ray stepped aside and read aloud in a monotone. ‘Gang trigger gas explodes. Local resi – resident died in a blaze at his home in Harchester Hill early on Saturday morning it explodes the fire was caused by a gas explosion the area round the fire was vacant until late yesterday afternoon but has not been decided safe a police spokesman has conferred that a gang of burglars broke into the house in the night police say they were responsible for leaving the gas on.’
Ray lowered the paper and stared at Cal. ‘It’s about this geezer who died in a fire. They think it was us, turned the gas on. It’s on the front page. That was us, the burglars. We’re the gang of burglars.’ His face was white. Cal laughed at something on the television. ‘That was us,’ Ray insisted, his voice rising. ‘It was us caused the fire that killed that geezer. It says it was a gang of burglars but it was us.’ Time was, Ray would have been overjoyed with a mention in the paper like that. He would probably have crowed with triumph. But now a stranger had died in a fire. Gang member or not, Ray was a murderer. And he hadn’t even known about it.
Cal turned to look up at Ray. ‘And how are we supposed to have done that, then? Killed some bloke without knowing anything about it? We never even saw anyone.’
‘The gas. The paper says we put the gas on. It was on all night.’
‘Was it you turned on the gas?’ Brenda asked. ‘Why did you do that then? You don’t want to go messing about with the gas.’
‘Shut up you stupid cow.’ Cal turned back to Ray. ‘I never turned the gas on. Did you turn the gas on, retard?’
‘No,’ Ray answered quickly. He looked away. He was thinking about the handle of his bag catching on something. ‘No,’ he said, more firmly. ‘It wasn’t me. I never touched the fucking gas. Why would I?’
‘There you are then,’ Cal said. His eyes were glued to the television again. ‘It wasn’t you and it wasn’t me. So what the hell are you on about? Like a bleeding old woman, you are. Worse than her with all your fuss. Maybe we were there, maybe we weren’t. Maybe we turned the gas on, maybe we didn’t. It’s a load of bollocks, them trying to make out it was us. If you ask me,’ he sat up suddenly, ‘we had a lucky escape. It could have been us, going up in flames on account of some careless bugger leaving their gas on. If you ask me, it’s us who are the injured parties. Just look at him,’ he told Brenda. ‘You’ve only got to look at him to see how shocked he is. That’s trauma, that is. We ought to sue them.’
‘Who you going to sue, you daft bugger?’ Brenda asked. She sniggered. Cal slapped the arm of the sofa and laughed.
‘And what about the old woman?’ Ray burst out. ‘What did you go and do that for, Cal?’
‘She got in the way.’
Ray forced a grin, wondering what Cal might do to him if he got in the way. He looked at the paper and felt sick. He was quick fingered, always had been. When you had nothing, it was the only way. He had to survive. He had been in a few brawls on a Saturday night, had given his share of split lips and black eyes, and learned how to defend himself against all comers, but nothing like this. If anyone found out, he would be done for murder. He glanced at Cal, smiling and relaxed, and felt a thread of hatred. Cal was all right. He didn’t care. Ray took a deep breath. ‘You leave the clever stuff to me,’ Cal would say, giving Ray a sharp slap for being stupid. And he was right. It was stupid to worry. They would never be found out.
Adverts came on the TV and Cal looked round. ‘Make us a cup of tea, Bren.’
‘Make it yourself. I’m not your slave.’
‘That’s what she thinks,’ Cal laughed. ‘Come on, slave girl, give us a kiss.’
Ray tapped the newspaper against Cal’s knee. ‘What if they find out?’
‘What’s the old woman on about?’ Cal asked Brenda. She giggled.
‘It’s one thing if they get us for thieving,’ Ray went on.
‘They won’t,’ Cal bristled.
‘I know. But what I’m saying is, it’s one thing to be done for thieving. But this is murder, Cal. If they find out it was us, we’re going down for murder. Who’s going to believe it was an accident? It was different with the old woman. She was old.’
‘Who are you calling an old woman?’ Bren frowned.
‘Oh shut up, will you. Old, young –’ Cal waved his thick fingers in the air. ‘No one knows we were there. You don’t even know it’s the same house. What makes you so sure that’s the house we were in? Could be any house on the estate.’
‘We could go and see,’ Ray suggested, suddenly alert. Cal was right. It might not have been the same house. He could be fretting for nothing.
‘We’re not going anywhere near the place,’ Cal told him. ‘Once they see us hanging around, we might as well ask to be picked up. They can prove what the hell they like, once they get hold of us.’
‘It’ll be like CSI,’ Brenda chipped in suddenly. ‘You didn’t drop anything there did you? Any hair or skin? Anything with DNA?’
‘No we bloody didn’t. And in any case, it would’ve got burned in the fire wouldn’t it, stupid?’ Cal said. ‘Now shut it, will you? I’m trying to listen.’ The football commentary droned on. Brenda sat back and closed her eyes. ‘And what about that tea?’ Cal slapped her leg.
She yelped and scrambled off the sofa. ‘I’ll make a cup for you but I’m not making one for him,’ she said as she scuttled into the kitchen.
‘You’ll do as you’re damn well told,’ Cal answered. He leaned back in his chair and stretched out his short legs. He wasn’t bothered either way.
‘I don’t want any bloody tea,’ Ray muttered.
Cal caught sight of Ray’s expression. ‘And what’s wrong with you?’
‘What if they find out it was us, Cal?’
‘Shut it. We’ve got an alibi. Soon as the footy’s done I’ll go and sort it. Just remember we were at the Blue Lagoon on Friday night. Right? Now shut the fuck up, will you? Because I’m telling you, there’s nothing to worry about.’
25
Witness
The canteen was empty apart from a couple of female constables sitting at a corner table, clutching mugs of coffee, deep in conversation. Geraldine approached their table but they didn’t invite her to join them. She hesitated then moved away. As she sat down, she saw their heads were nearly touching as they chatted in subdued tones. Geraldine felt slightly better a
fter her first shot of caffeine of the day and her headache eased. The two constables went soon after, leaving Geraldine alone in the canteen.
She was on her way back to her office when a young female constable accosted her in the corridor.
‘DCI sent me to look for you, ma’am. There’s a young woman come in to report an intruder.’
Geraldine smiled wearily at her. ‘Go on.’
‘She’s called Deborah Mainwaring. Calls herself Debbie.’ The constable checked her note book. ‘She claims an intruder entered her property on Sunday around five thirty. She said she’d gone home to fetch something. She must’ve left her front door ajar behind her because when she looked round, there was a man in her flat.’
‘Someone wandered in off the street? No forced entry?’
‘She says he had a knife.’
Geraldine frowned. ‘When did you say it happened?’
‘Sunday, late afternoon.’
‘That’s four days ago. Why didn’t she report it before now?’
The constable shrugged. ‘I don’t know, ma’am.’
Geraldine glanced at her watch, annoyed that she had to conduct the interview. As an inspector on the murder team she shouldn’t be dealing with random minor reports of intruders. ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’
‘Yes ma’am.’
Geraldine went and checked her emails before grabbing her bag and hurrying to the entrance hall where a young woman was sitting fiddling with the strap of her bag. She leapt to her feet when her name was called. Geraldine saw dark eyes gazing anxiously at her from beneath a fuzzy mop of dark hair. Geraldine led her into a small interview room and invited her to take a seat.
‘You reported an intruder, Miss Mainwaring?’
The young woman nodded. Nervously she explained how she had been on her way out on Sunday. It was her nephew’s birthday. ‘I had to go out about half past five. I was in a bit of a rush.’ She explained she hadn’t wanted to be late for the birthday tea at her sister’s. ‘She only lives fifteen minutes away.’ After setting out, she had returned home in a hurry to pick up a bill. ‘I had to get it in the post,’ she explained, ‘so it wouldn’t be late.’
Road Closed Page 11
