The Mechanical Devil

by Kate Ellis

  ‘You’ve been hard to find, Mr Ball,’ Wesley began.

  ‘I’ve been staying with my girlfriend since I got back. She missed me while I was in Spain. Had to keep the lady happy, didn’t I.’

  ‘We’ll need your girlfriend’s details.’

  ‘What if I don’t want to tell you?’

  The solicitor by Ball’s side – a young man in a sharp suit – gave a small nod of approval. Wesley thought he looked the type who’d encourage his clients to utilise the words ‘no comment’ at every opportunity.

  ‘Why did you go to Spain?’

  ‘Wanted a bit of sunshine, didn’t I.’

  Wesley took a deep breath. ‘Andrea Jameson.’

  Ball shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘What about her?’

  ‘She was having an affair with your sister’s husband Jason Fitch. You must have been angry on your sister’s behalf.’ It was a statement rather than a question.

  ‘Course I was. She’s my sister. So?’

  ‘Ever meet Andrea?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’ve been in the army so you know how to use a rifle.’

  He looked wary. ‘What of it?’

  ‘Do you possess a firearm?’

  ‘That’s illegal.’

  ‘But they’re not hard to buy if you know who to ask.’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Where were you a week last Friday?’ said Gerry.

  ‘I was with Chantalle all that day – my girlfriend. You can ask her. She’ll tell you.’

  ‘What about last Saturday? We know you came back from Spain earlier than expected. Why was that?’

  ‘Missing Chantalle, wasn’t I. I was at hers last Saturday. Went there straight from the airport.’

  ‘But you won’t give us her address so we can’t ask her,’ said Wesley reasonably.

  He could almost see Ball’s brain working as he made the calculation.

  ‘OK,’ he said eventually. ‘But she suffers with her nerves so go easy on her.’

  ‘We’ll treat her like a princess,’ said Gerry.

  As soon as he gave an address on a notorious Plymouth housing estate, Gerry left the room. Wesley knew he’d gone to organise a search warrant but there was no need to mention that to Kyle Ball.

  ‘Do you know a man called Nathan Rowyard?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Course I am.’

  ‘He used to specialise in blackmail before he was shot at the weekend. Identical MO to Andrea Jameson’s murder. We think the same person’s responsible.’

  ‘Well, it wasn’t me. I’ve never even heard of him.’

  ‘So he wasn’t blackmailing you?’

  He snorted as though the idea was ridiculous and as Wesley watched him, the confidence he’d felt at the start of the interview began to melt away. Even so, if there was a connection between Rowyard and Ball it was bound to come to light eventually.

  Wesley ended the interview and ignored the solicitor’s request that his client should be released. They still had hours yet before they had to either charge him or release him – but he knew the clock was ticking.

  There was nothing more they could do until the premises belonging to Kyle Ball’s girlfriend were searched – a task they assigned to Chantalle’s local station in Plymouth.

  Before leaving the station Wesley asked Rob Carter about Belinda Crillow, only to be told that there were no new leads, and when he returned to the incident room in Lower Torworthy with Gerry he spent some time studying the crime-scene pictures on the board, focusing on one in particular.

  Then he took a photograph of the dead Alcuin Garrard from the 1995 police file and compared it with the crime-scene pictures of Ian Evans’s body. The fact that they’d both died in the same field was probably a coincidence but, on the other hand, he had an uneasy feeling about it. Ever since Oliver Grayling told him that the girl who’d befriended Alcuin all those years ago was still in the village he’d wanted to speak to her and now was as good a time as any.

  Gerry looked dubious when he told him where he was going. ‘If you think it’s worth it.’

  Wesley didn’t answer. He left the church hall and hurried through the village. It was a pleasant evening but a breeze was getting up, sending the white clouds scudding across the vast sky, and by the time he reached his destination he was glad he’d zipped up his coat. Beside a neatly painted sign bearing the name of the house he saw a larger sign, decorated with painted flowers. Tarn End Flowers – Sarah Shaw’s business. A small grey van standing on the drive had an identical logo on the side.

  Before ringing the doorbell he looked at his watch. Seven fifteen. It was late to call on her unannounced but, on the other hand, there was a good chance he’d find her at home.

  The woman who answered the door was in her late thirties; fair-haired with a snub nose and a slender figure. Wesley produced his ID and apologised for bothering her so late in the day.

  ‘We’ve finished eating.’ She sounded as though she wasn’t sure how to react to the unexpected intrusion. ‘Come in,’ she said eventually. ‘We can go into my workshop. We won’t be disturbed in there.’

  He could hear a TV blaring in the distance and the chatter of children. No doubt there was a husband somewhere keeping an eye on them.

  ‘I understand you’ve met a friend of mine. Neil Watson,’ he said as she led him into a room that had once been a double garage but was now filled with work tables and buckets of colourful blooms.

  A look of relief passed across her face. ‘Neil. Oh yes, he’s been doing a survey of the church with some volunteers.’

  ‘You told him about a student you knew years ago; a young man who was researching the history of the village.’

  The look of relief vanished and he saw her hands clench. She opened her mouth to say something but no sound emerged.

  ‘You’ll have heard about the double murder in Manor Field?’

  ‘Of course. An officer came round to take our statements – not that we could tell him anything,’ she added in a rush.

  ‘You got to know Alcuin Garrard while he was here researching for his doctorate?’

  ‘Er… yes.’ She blushed. ‘Al was fairly near my own age so… Lower Torworthy isn’t the most exciting place for anyone that age.’

  ‘You were going out with him?’

  ‘Nothing like that. We were just friends.’

  ‘I believe you used to meet him in the Shepherd’s Arms.’

  ‘That’s right. I had a taste for cider in those days.’ There was a brightness in her voice that sounded artificial, as though she was putting on an act for his benefit. ‘He used to go on about this mechanical monk he’d found mentioned in some old documents he’d found. Apparently it was credited with all sorts of miraculous cures.’

  ‘Neil discovered it.’

  ‘He told me.’

  ‘Have you seen it?’

  ‘It’s at the university at the moment but he’s promised to show it me one day.’

  She turned away and picked up a flower, fidgeting with its silk petals.

  ‘You must have been upset when Alcuin died.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, her gaze still focused on the flower. ‘He was… nice.’

  ‘Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything out of the ordinary that happened back then?’

  There was a long silence before she replied.

  ‘He used to talk about his great-aunt who was murdered.’

  The mention of murder caught Wesley’s attention. ‘Was anyone arrested?’

  ‘Yes, her carer. She’d been stealing from the old lady. She killed herself before she could be put on trial. Al had been close to his great-aunt and she’d promised to give him something to help with his studies but the carer stole everything. He was really cut up about it.’

  ‘What was his great-aunt’s name?’

  ‘Mary, I think. Don’t know her surname.’

  ‘Where did she live?’

/>   ‘Not sure.’ There was something guarded about her reply which reinforced Wesley’s impression that she was holding something back.

  ‘Do you remember anything else?’

  She appeared to consider the question carefully. ‘Shortly before he died he was excited because he’d found out there might be a second mechanical monk – a big friar. He said some references to it had been obliterated and it was a mystery.’

  Wesley recognised this as a deliberate change of subject but he was intrigued. ‘Obliterated?’

  ‘That’s what he said.’

  ‘What happened when he died?’

  ‘We were supposed to be meeting in the Shepherd’s Arms but he rang to say he’d be late ’cause he was going to Manor Field. Something to do with his research. He never turned up but I thought he’d just got sidetracked – he was like that about his work sometimes. Then he was found the next morning and…’

  ‘Why Manor Field?’

  She considered the question. ‘It was the site of an old manor house. He was researching the family who lived there and a descendant of theirs lent him some old family documents for his research. His name was Ralph Detoram. Al said he was a nice old boy. They got on well.’

  ‘Mr Detoram lived at Princebury Hall?’

  She nodded.

  ‘It’s a well-being centre now.’

  She hesitated. ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘The police report into Alcuin’s death mentions that a witness saw a large dark-coloured car parked near the field around the time he died. It was never traced.’

  ‘Al didn’t own a car,’ she said quickly.

  ‘Did he have any friends who did?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. I’m sorry. I can’t help you.’ Her eyes widened. ‘You don’t think… you don’t think these latest murders have anything to do with Al’s death, do you?’

  Wesley felt obliged to give an honest reply. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know.’

  Kyle Ball’s girlfriend, Chantalle, wasn’t the nervous type; quite the reverse. She gave the officers a mouthful when they arrived with the search warrant and watched them, arms folded and uttering a stream of foul-mouthed complaints, as they went through the house. But as soon as they used a stepladder to access the loft of her maisonette she fell silent – and when they emerged from the darkness holding six Winchester rifles, she swore she’d never seen them before in her life.

  30

  ‘The rifles from Chantalle’s loft have gone to Ballistics,’ Gerry said when Wesley arrived at the incident room the next morning.

  ‘Did she say what they were doing there?’

  ‘She said Kyle was looking after them for a mate and she could be telling the truth. According to Plymouth, he has links to the owner of a boat they’ve been watching for a while – gang importing hunting rifles from the Continent where they’re relatively easy to get hold of.’

  ‘So we’re treating Ball as our number one suspect?’

  ‘He had access to the weapons so I suppose we have to.’ He scratched his head. ‘Newquay haven’t got back to us about Jocasta Ovorard yet… if it was her in the picture.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure it was.’

  Gerry hesitated. ‘Is Pam OK?’ He sounded concerned.

  ‘She says she’s fine but I can tell she’s putting on a brave face.’

  ‘What about Della?’

  ‘Hard to tell with Della. She can make a crisis out of the slightest thing. I reckon it makes her feel important. She’s now saying she could have been mistaken about the knife but after what happened to Pam’s tyres…’ He paused. ‘I’m getting a bad feeling that it’s something to do with me – that I’ve brought something home that could harm my family.’

  ‘You’ve arrested a lot of people in the course of your career, Wes, but this?’

  ‘Unless it’s Della they’re after. She’s mixed with some strange people in her time.’

  ‘Well, if whoever it is is trying to deliver some sort of message they’re bound to make themselves known eventually.’

  ‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ Wesley replied almost in a whisper. ‘And what on earth does it have to do with Belinda Crillow? Maybe I shouldn’t have passed her on to Rob.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with a bit of delegation. Besides, if our man has got it in for you, it makes sense to keep your distance.’

  ‘Pam’s still fragile. She can do without all this.’

  ‘I know, mate.’ Gerry put his hand out to touch Wesley’s arm in a gesture of sympathy. Then he withdrew it, aware that a group of uniformed constables was watching, and examined his watch.

  ‘Kyle Ball’s solicitor’s moaning but now the firearms have been found at his girlfriend’s place that should shut him up. Once we get the report back from Ballistics we can ask him a few pertinent questions,’ Gerry said with satisfaction. ‘He hated Andrea Jameson for upsetting his sister and Ian Evans was collateral damage as we’ve always suspected.’

  ‘What about Nathan Rowyard?’

  ‘Falling out amongst thieves?’ Gerry sounded confident. ‘No doubt all will become clear in due course.’

  ‘I want to know where that unexplained four grand in Rowyard’s bank account came from.’

  ‘If we find out Ball’s account’s four grand light we’ll know. Or maybe Rowyard’s victim was Jason Fitch – I’m sure finding four grand to pay off a minor villain wouldn’t present him with a problem. Maybe he got Ball to do his dirty work for him… keep it in the family.’

  ‘If Ball is a hired assassin perhaps that’s why Fitch’s other girlfriend Gemma Whittingstill hasn’t been targeted. Rather than Sharon Fitch using her brother to exact her revenge, it might have been her husband wanting to get rid of an inconvenient mistress. Andrea Jameson sounded like the troublesome type.’

  ‘You could well be right, Wes.’ Gerry sat back and patted his large stomach, like a man who’d just enjoyed a good meal.

  ‘I haven’t told you about my meeting with Sarah Shaw last night. She used to know Alcuin Garrard, the man found dead in Manor Field in ’ninety-five.’

  ‘Is it relevant?’

  Wesley considered the question for a few moments. ‘Andrea Jameson, Ian Evans and Alcuin Garrard all died in the same field.’

  ‘Coincidence?’

  ‘Sarah told me Garrard’s great-aunt was murdered a few months before he died. She was killed by a carer who’d been stealing from her. I want to find out more.’

  ‘What has this got to do with our recent victims?’

  ‘Not sure yet. But if we don’t —’

  Before Wesley could say any more the phone on his desk began to ring and he hurried over to answer it, his mind still on Alcuin Garrard and his murdered great-aunt. But when the woman on the other end of the line introduced herself his thoughts returned to the present.