[Inspector Peach 12] - Pastures New

by J M Gregson

  ‘He would have left with me. He should have left with me. But I was annoyed with him for what he had said about marriage in his speech. I flounced off and left him. You’re telling me that he might be alive now if I hadn’t, aren’t you?’ Suddenly, she was sobbing uncontrollably, and Justin Williams was in the room, telling them that it must end here, that he wouldn’t have her talking to them any more whilst she was in grief and in shock.

  They apologized and took their leave, telling Mrs Williams that they would need to speak to her again in a few days, after they had spoken to other people involved. They left her weeping silently but uncontrollably, with her son’s arm clasped awkwardly round her shoulders and her body held at an odd angle against his side.

  Eleven

  Superintendent Tucker was at his most officious. It was Monday morning and time to galvanize the troops. ‘Have you made an arrest in the Geoffrey Aspin case yet, Peach?’

  ‘No, sir. It’s early days yet.’

  ‘Negative attitude, Peach. Don’t like that in my teams. A positive attitude is necessary for progress.’

  ‘Yes, sir. DS Blake and I tried to remain positive whilst spending ten hours of our Sunday visiting the crime scene, setting up the investigation, and doing the first interviews. I hope the golf went well, sir.’ Peach did not look at the chief’s face; he chose to study intently a shallow but significant scratch across the back of Tucker’s right hand; the man had obviously had an argument with the brambles. ‘Driving still a little erratic, is it?’

  ‘Never mind that. I hope you’re not exploiting DS Blake because she is a woman.’ Tucker, who had assigned Peach a female detective sergeant years earlier because he had been seeking to annoy him, was still blissfully unaware of the fact known to everyone else in his CID section, that the two were an item. ‘There is no room for sexism in the modem police service, you know.’

  ‘I do realize that, sir, yes. I seem to remember hearing that somewhere before, but thank you for the reminder.’

  ‘So why haven’t you got a killer yet? I told you yesterday that Mr Aspin was a prominent local businessman.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Does that make his killer more obvious, or just give his murder a higher than normal priority?’

  ‘Don’t be insolent, Peach. I was merely reminding you that this is likely to become a high-profile case, with the reputation of Brunton CID on the line.’ His chest barreled a little behind his desk on that thought, a phenomenon which Peach stared at with some interest.

  ‘Yes, sir. We’ve already seen the man’s son-in-law. A man by the name of Jemal Bilic. A Turkish immigrant. Admits he had no great friendship with Mr Aspin.’

  ‘Ah!’ The Tucker prejudices, which Peach found fascinating to explore, surfaced in his voice. ‘A likely candidate for the crime, wouldn’t you say, Percy? Men of that background are always prone to violence.’

  ‘Interesting you should say that, sir. Bilic struck DS Blake and me as a man capable of violence.’

  ‘Well, there you are, then. First impressions can be very valuable, you know.’

  ‘I see, sir. The snag is that Mr Bilic is himself a prominent local businessman. Probably a man of some influence in our community. But if you think we should pull him in and rough him up a little, I’m sure that your opinion will — ’

  ‘Peach, you must take no precipitate action! I’ve had occasion to warn you before about your tendency to jump to hasty conclusions.’

  ‘I thought you said that first impressions could be very valuable, sir.’ Peach was a picture of puzzlement.

  ‘You really must learn to take a much wider view of the world. If this man Bilic is a local businessman, that in itself argues a certain respectability.’

  Peach reflected that he had known several highly respectable killers in his time. He considered an excursion into crime among the Freemason fraternity, then decided that he must not waste too much time on this buffoon who was the figurehead of detection in the town. ‘I shall of course keep you briefed on events as they develop, sir. No doubt we shall have need of your overview of things.’

  ‘Yes, do that.’ Tucker stirred uneasily behind the big desk. ‘It is possible that I may not be around every day this week. I may need to take a day or two off as the weekend approaches.’

  ‘Indeed, sir?’

  Tucker had not intended to enlarge on his statement, but Peach’s eyebrows, arching impossibly high towards the white dome of his bald head, were instruments which had broken stronger wills than his. ‘You may have forgotten that I shall be away on duty this weekend.’

  ‘No, I hadn’t forgotten, sir. You’re to be incarcerated in the nick at Nottingham, aren’t you, sir?’ His pleasure in the thought could scarcely have been more manifest if Tucker had been the Yorkshire Ripper.

  ‘I shall be in the company of senior officers in the service. Many of them, indeed, will be more senior than myself.’

  ‘You’ll need to watch your back then, sir. Don’t drop the soap in the showers is my advice! Ha ha!’ Peach allowed himself a peal of artificial laughter, to show that he didn’t consider the danger was serious.

  Tucker glared at this misplaced and politically incorrect sally and decided it would be better not to react to it. ‘I shall be representing Brunton in this experiment. Trying to raise our profile among important and influential people.’

  Peach considered this novel idea. ‘Wouldn’t it raise it even more to solve a high-profile murder case, sir? I’m quite willing to surrender direct control of the investigation to you if you wish it, sir. My amour propre will not be wounded by such a move, sir.’

  ‘Nonsense! I wouldn’t hear of it. I shall demonstrate complete confidence in my team by leaving the matter in your capable hands, Percy.’

  Peach sighed, noting with apprehension this second use of his forename. ‘We shall do our best, sir. But without the pilot at the helm, who knows what will ensue?’

  ‘I am planning to take a little leisure time to myself to compensate for being away at the weekend.’

  ‘Mrs Tucker putting her foot down, is she, sir?’ Peach divined correctly that the formidable Barbara Tucker, Brünnhilde in twin-set and pearls, had given a cold reception to the news that her spouse was to be absent at the weekend. For himself, Percy would have welcomed the absence of Thomas Bulstrode Tucker with an alleluia chorus of delight, but there was no pleasing some people.

  ‘My wife has nothing to do with this. She is thoroughly behind me as always.’

  ‘And as always you are well behind us, sir. We shall try to muddle through without you. I shall offer the lads and lasses the picture of you slopping out in Nottingham as some sort of compensation.’

  ‘Get about your business, Peach. I’m expecting rapid results, and a minimum of overtime hours for this investigation.’

  ‘Your demands, as usual, sir, are modest and understanding. I shall relay to the team just how thoroughly I think you are behind us.’

  * * *

  Steve Hawksworth looked much less like a possible murderer than Jemal Bilic. He had a habitual diffident air about him and he was physically much less impressive than his brother- in-law. Where Bilic moved swiftly and gracefully, his lean frame carrying with it an air of menace, Hawksworth’s thin limbs seemed less coordinated, more those of a man who sat at a desk for most of his day and didn’t take exercise after it.

  Like many another nervous person in the presence of Peach, he talked too much about trivialities, as if he felt silence itself might be a danger to him. ‘Mr Robinson is away today. He kindly said that we could use his office for our meeting. We shall not be disturbed in here. It’s much easier to talk to you at work than at home, as I said on the phone. The children might interrupt us there.’

  He looked anxiously around the deserted room where the boss’s secretary normally sat as he led them through it and into the office. Once there, he invited Peach to sit behind the antique mahogany desk. He himself sat in one of the two armchairs in the room, after settling Lucy Blak
e into the other one. When Peach brought the swivel chair out from behind the desk and positioned it opposite him, he looked aghast at this rearrangement of his superior’s room, as if he feared that the absent Robinson might appear like a wrathful person from Porlock to disrupt the proceedings.

  ‘Where do you want me to begin?’ he said, again feeling the need to fill the silence which the DCI allowed to fall upon the room.

  ‘I think you should give us your account of the latter part of Saturday’s events. Take us up to the last time you saw Mr Aspin. Then we shall no doubt have some questions for you.’ Peach made it sound as if the accountant were already on trial and would need to be very careful with his words.

  ‘I spoke at the end of the meal. It was I who proposed the health of Geoff Aspin.’

  DS Blake said, ‘Yes. I heard you, because I was there, Mr Hawksworth. I’m an old friend of your wife’s from school days. We were introduced to each other on Saturday afternoon, but you’ve forgotten that.’

  ‘I do apologize. I was introduced to quite a few people on Saturday. You’re Louise’s friend Lucy, aren’t you? I remember now. I’m afraid I was so nervous at the prospect of speaking that I wasn’t taking much in when we met.’ She smiled, wondering why she so often seemed to end up playing soft-cop to Peach’s hard-cop, when they had never discussed any such tactic. ‘So tell us how you saw things evolve late on Saturday afternoon. I suggest you begin from the end of your speech and the beginning of Geoffrey Aspin’s reply.’

  Steve tried to concentrate on this gentler female face as he strove to remember the phrases he had planned for this moment; this friend of his wife’s seemed altogether less threatening, less sceptical, than that fierce male presence who had positioned his chair to sit within four feet of him. ‘Geoff seemed pleased with what I’d said. But you’ve known him longer than I have, DS Blake.’

  ‘I hadn’t seen him for ten years. I’d known him only as my school friend’s father when I was a rather immature adolescent. You really knew him much better than I did at the time of his death.’ Lucy could sense Peach’s annoyance at the delay being occasioned by her own presence at Saturday’s meal.

  ‘Well, Geoff seemed to be enjoying himself. I think he wanted to surprise us and he certainly succeeded in doing that. I don’t think any of the family was prepared for his announcement that he was going to marry the woman beside him at the meal. I know for certain that Louise and I weren’t.’

  She wondered how significant it was that he hadn’t even used Pam Williams’s name. She said, ‘And do you think Mrs Williams was prepared for it?’

  ‘Oh, I should think so, wouldn’t you? I think that lady must have known what was planned.’ His voice took on an uncharacteristic waspishness when he spoke of the woman who had sat so quietly beside the man at the centre of the attention.

  ‘I was a long way from the top table admittedly. But I got the impression that Pam Williams was surprised when Geoff said that he was going to marry her. However, you were sitting very near to these two people and apparently you recall things differently.’

  ‘I was relieved to have my speech over. I’m afraid I was staring at the table linen and the glasses and not listening to the first part of Geoff’s speech very closely. I don’t recall looking at either his face or hers. But I’m sure she must have been aware of his intentions, even if she pretended to be surprised when he announced them.’

  Blake nodded slowly. ‘You would expect that, yes. I’m just saying that when Geoff said he was going to marry her she looked as surprised as the rest of us. Surprised and not particularly pleased. I’d have said. But that was just my impression from thirty yards away.’

  Steve Hawksworth gave that thought his careful attention. Then he said slowly, ‘Perhaps you’re right. After all, you’re trained in observation and I’m not.’ He smiled awkwardly over this belated attempt at gallantry towards the woman he had at first failed to recognize. ‘I’m just saying that I expect she knew what he was going to say, even if she chose to look surprised about it.’

  Peach said a little impatiently, ‘Well, we shall check your thoughts against those of other people. Tell us what happened after Mr Aspin had finished speaking.’

  Steve nodded and took his time. He felt quite cool. There was no threat here: this was the kind of innocent detail he could relate competently enough. ‘Well, there was a lot of noise over Geoff’s announcement. There was shock, and then laughter, and then a lot of people wanted to shake his hand and congratulate him. I remember a lot of scraping of chairs, a lot of noise and confusion, and then things broke up pretty quickly.’ He looked anxiously towards Lucy Blake for confirmation, but her head was down and she was making notes.

  It was Peach who said, ‘And no doubt the first people to congratulate him were those members of his immediate family who were sitting around him.’

  Steve sensed a trap, as he was now prepared to do in everything this man asked. ‘No. To be honest, we weren’t pleased. I don’t think you could say we were shocked, because obviously we knew that Geoff had been seeing Mrs Williams for a month or two. But we didn’t know that it had got as serious as this. We weren’t prepared for any announcement of his intentions on Saturday, or even in the immediate future. It certainly took Louise and me by surprise.’

  Peach noted again that he was making a distinction from the others around that top table. Not a very close-knit family, this one. Another fact learned; another factor to bear in mind when he saw others. ‘So what happened afterwards? You say you didn’t add to the congratulations Mr Aspin was receiving from his friends. Did you in fact take up the matter with him?’

  ‘I didn’t. Neither did Louise.’ The denials came promptly, perhaps a little too promptly. ‘I would have chosen a less public occasion to discuss the matter with Geoff. So would my wife.’

  ‘And what about your sister-in-law and her husband?’

  ‘I can’t speak for Carol and Jemal. I know they were dismayed and annoyed. They may have made their feelings known to Geoff.’

  ‘But you don’t know that they did.’

  ‘No. There was a lot of confusion as things broke up, with the staff at the Towers moving in to clear the tables and almost a hundred people taking leave of Geoff, as well as congratulating him.’

  ‘Tell us about the last time you saw Mr Aspin, please.’

  He took a deep breath, determined to handle this carefully. ‘I didn’t so much see him as hear him, as a matter of fact. I was at the far end of the dining room for about ten minutes, I suppose, discussing with my wife what Geoff had said about remarrying and trying to come to terms with it. We’d come in separate cars, because Louise had stayed at home with the children until the last possible minute. She went out to her car whilst I went to thank the manager for the meal and all the other arrangements. By the time I was ready to leave myself, nearly everyone had gone. I didn’t have a coat to collect - not many people did, because it was such a warm day. But I suddenly heard raised voices from the cloakrooms.’

  ‘One of which was that of Mr Aspin.’ Peach nodded affirmatively: it encouraged honesty in interviewees to let them know that you had other sources of information.

  For a moment Steve Hawksworth looked disconcerted. ‘Yes. I couldn’t be absolutely sure about the other one. It was certainly female.’

  ‘You say you couldn’t be sure. That implies that you think you know who it was.’

  ‘Yes. I think it was Pam Williams.’

  ‘And what was the argument about? It was an argument, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. It sounded a pretty fierce argument, in fact. But I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you what it was about. I couldn’t hear what was being said.’

  ‘Not even the odd phrase? You say that emotions were running strong and voices were raised high.’

  ‘Nothing at all, I’m afraid. The oak doors at Marton Towers are pretty thick, you know. And this one was firmly shut. In any case, I wasn’t trying to listen to whatever was going on, because it
was none of my business,’ Hawksworth said primly.

  ‘Pity you didn’t have a little more natural curiosity, though.’ Percy’s sceptical smile said that he didn’t believe this righteous figure would have suppressed his natural curiosity so completely. ‘Especially now that we have a corpse on our hands. Obviously anyone having a quarrel with a murder victim very shortly before his death has to be of interest to us.’

  ‘I suppose so, yes.’ He looked anxiously towards the door, as if apprehensive that the fearsome Mr Robinson might wish to reclaim his office.

  ‘What was your own relationship with the dead man, Mr Hawksworth?’

  ‘We got on well.’ He was aware that it sounded wooden. ‘He was an understanding father-in-law. He’d been good to Louise and to me, over the years. He was a good grandfather to the children.’

  There was something strained about this. They might find out more when they spoke to his wife. Though they’d hardly spoken about Geoff Aspin on Saturday, being more concerned with reminiscences of their turbulent youth, Lucy Blake thought now that Louise had been unnaturally guarded about her father and her present relationship with him.

  Peach said bluntly, ‘What were your own feelings about Mr Aspin’s plans to marry Mrs Williams?’

  ‘I hadn’t really had time to consider all the implications before we got the shock news of his death.’

  The answer had come out pat, and it was almost certainly false. Whatever the shock of Aspin’s announcement over his final meal, the family had known there was a serious partnership developing. They must have been considering the implications for them of this new force in his life.

  Peach allowed the silence to stretch, emphasizing the hollowness of what Hawksworth had said. For the first time, his interviewee did not feel compelled to break it. It was Peach who eventually said, ‘Who benefits from this death, Mr Hawksworth?’