Secrets of the Dead

by A L Fraine

  “You wound me, Barry.”

  Debbie Constable appeared at the open door and knocked on the frame. “The detective superintendent wants to see you,” she said with a smile and walked off.

  “It never rains, but it pours,” Kate remarked.

  “Yep, here we go,” Jon said, standing. “Are you ready to go down with the ship?”

  “Aye-aye, captain,” Kate replied with a mocking salute and followed him out and around to the DSupt’s office.

  Once inside, they took a seat as Ray finished up what he was doing and sat back. He looked over his desk at them, the end of his pen in his mouth. “Thanks for keeping the office up to date with things today,” Ray stated.

  “That’s okay.” It was a miracle that Jon had managed to remember to call when they’d left the Lockwood property to go after Spencer, but he had, and he honestly felt proud about that.

  “And, um… I know it didn’t go as you planned with Spencer, but all things considered, I don’t think you did badly. You brought a suspect in, and you wouldn’t have if you’d delayed.”

  Jon nodded. “Thanks.”

  “How’re things at the Lockwoods’ going?”

  “We’re making progress,” Jon replied. “We have a few more lines of enquiry to follow up on, too. I think the guy downstairs will keep us busy tonight, though, so we’ll give the family some time alone for now and catch up with them again tomorrow.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” Ray replied.

  “Thanks.”

  “Alright, off you go. Good luck with your suspect.”

  Walking out with Kate beside him, he spotted Nathan waving at them across the main office. “Guys.”

  “What’s up?” Jon asked as they approached his desk.

  “I’ve been doing some digging on our friend downstairs,” he replied.

  “And you have something?” Jon took a seat, interested.

  “His name is Yegor Mordvinov, but he usually just goes by the name Jora, and we’ve come across him before. He’s a thug, hired muscle for the Bratva. He’s a fully paid-up member of the Russian Mob, and has the full weight of the Mafia behind him. Including that mob lawyer, he’s got with him downstairs.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yes, indeed. He’s a good lawyer, too. So unless you have something concrete, I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

  “But he can’t just walk,” Kate protested. “It must be him. He killed Spencer.”

  “I know that, and you know that, but we also know what the mob is like.”

  “Nathan’s right. I can see where this is going to go already,” Jon remarked. “But we’ve got to try. So let’s get our ducks in a row, so we’re ready for him.”

  An hour later, Jon walked into the interview room with Kate and took their seats opposite Jora and his solicitor.

  Pleasantries were exchanged, although Jora stayed silent, and the recording was started, but within moments, the solicitor raised his hand.

  “Before we go any further, my client, Yegor Mordvinov, has prepared a statement. It states, ‘I was out for a walk and heard two gunshots. I ran to investigate and found the shot man and the gun. Scared that I would be framed for this man’s death because of my record, I made to leave, but was chased down by detectives from this station before I could call 999. I would like to make it clear that I ran because I wasn’t sure who you were, and was scared for my life. Thank you.’”

  The solicitor passed the written statement over to them.

  Jon took it and looked it over once.

  “Thank you for the statement, Jora, but I’m afraid that I’m going to have to ask you some questions anyway, okay?”

  Jora shrugged.

  “Okay, well, you said you were taking a walk. Where were you going, exactly?”

  “No comment,” Jora replied.

  “Was it to a friend’s, maybe?”

  “No comment.”

  “It’s a little strange that you just happened to be walking that way, and passed by this injured man, don’t you think?”

  “No comment.”

  Jon sighed, already frustrated by Jora’s answers. But this was the job. They needed to ask their questions, in case he decided that he wanted to talk. It happened, occasionally, but he wasn’t getting a good vibe from this guy, and felt sure they weren’t going to get much, if anything, out of him.

  A thought occurred to him then, and after a brief pause, he chose to hit him with another question, one that he hopefully wasn’t expecting.

  “Do you know Lizzy Lockwood?”

  Jora frowned and looked at his lawyer.

  “I’m sorry, who?” his solicitor asked.

  “Elizabeth Lockwood. She was killed two nights ago at Silent Pool. Do you know her?”

  Jora glanced at his representative again, who nodded back to him.

  “I’ve got no idea who that is,” he replied.

  “Aaah, you can say words other than, ‘no comment,’ wonderful,” Jon remarked, much to Jora’s annoyance. “So you’re saying you weren’t at Silent Pool that night?”

  “No.”

  “Can you prove it?”

  “Probably.”

  “Well, if you can, I think you should.”

  22

  With a jolt, Jon snapped awake, aware that someone was shaking his shoulder.

  “Wuh…what?” he gasped, as his eyes flickered open and he found himself looking up at Kate’s smiling face.

  “Morning, sleepyhead,” she said, leaning in and kissing him briefly. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better now,” he replied, enjoying her touch, only for several aches along his back and shoulders to announce their presence with shooting pains through his body. “Aaagh, actually, I’m a little sore.”

  With a grunt of effort, Jon sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the sofa in his office and sat back, letting himself relax. Kate was crouched down before him and took his hand in hers.

  “I’m not surprised. What time did you get to sleep?”

  “I’m not sure, really. Early hours, maybe? I seem to remember collapsing on here at some point. Did you get home last night?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. I said good night, don’t you remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry, it’s all a little fuzzy.”

  “You’re a little smelly, too,” she said, moving to sit beside him. “Why don’t you get a shower?”

  “Yeah, I will. I just need a moment to wake up.”

  “You’ve got some spare clothes downstairs, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “Did you get any further with Jora?”

  Jon shook his head. “Nah. Nothing. He kept insisting he knew nothing, and he had a friend confirm he was with him the night Lizzy died. The location of his phone backs him up too, and there’s nothing to suggest there was any funny stuff going on, either.”

  “So it’s a dead-end then.”

  “The Lizzy stuff is. As for the Spencer angle, he’s said nothing other than what’s on that statement. It’s just no comment across the board.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “No, it’s not. If we can’t get anything on him, I think this will end either with him walking or with a short custodial sentence, which he’ll be out from in no time.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  “Yeah, it sucks. Right then, I’d best get cleaned up before anyone else gets here,” he said, as he rose from the sofa with a groan.

  The shower and change of clothes was a very welcome feeling, and after brushing his teeth, he made his way back up to the office from the basement, where Kate was waiting with a hot cup of tea.

  “Aaah, lovely. A brew. Just what the doctor ordered,” he said, and sipped it. “Mmm, lovely.”

  “Want some toast and marmalade?”

  “Yeah,” he replied enthusiastically, before looking up at her and narrowing his eyes theatrically. “What are you after?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she replied. “But, you know, if you staye
d over at mine sometime, I could make this for you again.” She smiled at him.

  “Aaah, I see,” he replied, grinning. “Well, I’ll have to check my schedule, but I might be able to fit you in.”

  “It’s so nice to be valued,” she commented as she spread some marmalade over the slices of toast she had arrayed before her.

  “Well, I mean, you are trying to poison me with your milk-first-tea, so… a man needs to be careful. How do I know you’re not trying to lure me to your flat for some nefarious purpose?”

  “You don’t,” Kate replied with a wicked grin. “Maybe I’m a witch, and you’re a key ingredient in my next potion. I mean, you know what they say about women with red hair, right?”

  “No. What do they say, Barry the Tea Witch?”

  “Don’t fuck with us.”

  “Yikes.”

  Kate shrugged and handed him a plate with two slices of toast on it. “Enjoy.”

  “How do I know you’ve not made this with eye of newt or something?”

  “You’re just going to have to trust me,” she answered. “You do trust me, don’t you?”

  “Implicitly, sweetheart.”

  “Jon, Kate,” Ray said as he walked into the break room. “Are you heading back to the Lockwood’s house today?”

  Jon turned and watched the superintendent re-boil the kettle and prepare himself a cup of tea. “We will, sir, yes.”

  “Any further progress with the shooter last night?”

  “Nothing, no.”

  “OK. I want this Lockwood case wrapped up, Jon. I’ll get Nathan or Rachel to handle Jora. In the meantime, I need you to deal with the Lockwoods. Alright?”

  “Sir,” Jon replied.

  “Of course, sir,” Kate added.

  “Good, let’s get this one wrapped up,” he said, pouring his tea and adding the milk afterwards.

  “You know,” Jon said, once Ray had walked out, “I’m warming to him.”

  “Really?”

  “He makes tea the right way.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Kate moaned and walked out.

  “What?” Jon asked, following. “It’s a fool-proof method of detecting the good and decent people from the devil spawn.”

  “I might withdraw that invite,” Kate said, looking back with a raised eyebrow.

  “Aaaaand, I have been known to be wrong, on occasion,” he replied, apologetically. “I mean, look at you? You’re a ray of sunshine, despite the… milk… thing.”

  She stopped, turned to him and crossed her arms. A lopsided grin broke across her face as she looked up at him. “So, what’s it to be?”

  “Huh?” Jon asked, confused.

  “Is it Barry the Tea-Witch, or Barry the Finger?” She held up her left hand and wiggled her crooked little finger.

  “Oh.”

  “Well?”

  “Can’t it be both?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, can it?”

  “Barry the Finger, Tea Witch of the Surrey Downs.”

  Kate smiled and nodded. “I like it.”

  Jon smiled. For a moment, he thought he’d pushed his jokes a little too far.

  She winked at him. “You’re cute when you think you’ve offended me.”

  “Well, I wasn’t sure…”

  “Just remember what your place is.”

  “And where might that be?”

  Kate pointed to her gammy finger. “Wrapped around this.”

  Jon laughed.

  “Guv,” Rachel called out. “You didn’t come back to ours last night. You alright?”

  “Yes, Mum,” Jon replied with a grin.

  “He slept here,” Kate added.

  “Oh, really? I thought he might have been at yours.”

  “I know, right? Do I smell or something?”

  “No more than usual,” Dion said, walking over.

  “Dick,” Kate replied, playfully punching him on the shoulder.

  “I think you should take Kate up on the offer, Jon,” Rachel replied.

  He nodded. “I’ll be checking my busy calendar later, see if I can’t find a space for her. That is, if you’ll let me stay out late again?”

  “I’m sure I can make an exception,” Rachel replied. “I don’t want Kate getting all frustrated.”

  “I’m right here, you know,” Kate said.

  “Did you hear something?” Dion said, cupping a hand to his ear.

  “Is it a pick-on-Kate-day or something?” Kate asked.

  “Shit, she knows,” Jon stage whispered. “Abort, abort.”

  “Piss off,” Kate replied, crossing her arms in annoyance as Dion picked up a folder and looked around.

  “Ok, guys, I’ve got something to show you. Nathan? You too,” Dion said. “I’ve been doing some digging into the family’s financial records, and I noticed a few things which I think you might be interested in.”

  “Go on,” Jon urged.

  “Okay, firstly, Harold inherited the majority of his fortune from Kathlyn Gainsborough when she died. He was already wealthy, but this made him a very, very rich man, and when he passes, that fortune will most likely go to Howard, right?”

  “I’d assume so,” Jon replied.

  “Okay, so I had a look at Howard too, and it turns out he’s not quite as rich as you’d think. He’s run up debts on several credit cards, and his personal fortune has dwindled significantly.”

  “How?” Jon asked.

  “Several bad investments, and more recently, he’s been sending money to Spencer. Thousands of pounds, but that stopped a few months ago. I don’t think he could afford it anymore.”

  “And this is from what, his and Veronica’s joint account?”

  “No, Howard's personal account.”

  “So he’s been trying to help Spencer,” Jon said. “Did you check Spencer’s account?”

  “I did. The money comes in, and goes out again, pretty much right away.”

  “Out where?”

  “Various places. Personal accounts, offshore accounts. Some of it certainly goes to Russia.”

  Jon nodded. “Okay, good. Anything else?”

  “Yeah. One other thing is that I noticed some movement in the accounts that Ingrid and Piers have. Money is regularly transferred from Piers’ account to Ingrid’s, but it always goes straight out again to her family. Her parents.”

  “She’s funnelling money to her family?”

  “Looks that way. I can’t be sure if Piers is moving the money from his to Ingrid's account or not, but someone is.”

  “I’d be willing to bet Ingrid is doing it. Is it a lot of money?”

  “To you and me, yes. To Piers? Probably not. If he’s not watching it closely, he’s probably assuming it’s normal activity.”

  Jon nodded. “Okay, thanks, Dion. Good work. Is there anything else?” he asked, addressing the team.

  “CCTV from the house confirms that Spencer was on the patio all night with Portia,” Nathan said. “Also, Forensics is currently processing the DNA they gathered from the house the other day, including swabs from all the family. I’ll have results for you later, I think.”

  “Excellent.”

  “The Tesla was certainly one of the vehicles that used the side entrance recently,” Rachel stated. “We matched the tracks in the mud to the car, but several others have been used recently too, and we can’t be sure which car used it on the night of the murder.”

  “Can we narrow it down?” Jon asked.

  “It was either Howard's Tesla, Spencer’s BMW, or Piers’ Audi.”

  “Okay, so maybe we need to examine those cars, see if we can find any DNA or anything else that ties one of them to the scene. Can we arrange that?”

  “We can,” Rachel replied.

  “Anything else on Kathlyn’s suicide? Or her diary?”

  “Nothing new,” Nathan replied.

  “What are you thinking?” Kate asked.

  “I’m thinking that money is a powerful motivator, and if some of them are despera
te, and they know that Harold has a fortune to pass down, then they wouldn’t want anyone jeopardising that by telling Harold what his family is really like.”

  Kate sighed. “Yeah, okay, but if they’re willing to kill, why not just kill Harold, and get the inheritance?”

  Jon shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  23

  “You’re right,” Jon said as they drove through the picturesque Surrey countryside to the Lockwood estate. “If the killer’s motivation was purely money, and they were willing to kill family members for it, then why not just kill Harold? That doesn’t make any sense, so the motivation must be something else.”

  “Not money?”

  “Maybe not. Or maybe the money is just one part of it, and maybe not the main part?”

  “Does that mean we’re ruling out Howard?”

  “I didn’t get the impression that he would kill anyone,” Jon replied. “No, I think someone wanted to shut Lizzy up. Someone with something to hide.”

  “Well then, take your pick,” Kate said with a wry smile.

  “Yeah, tell me about it. They all have stuff they want to hide, that’s for sure.”

  “Hmm,” Kate agreed as they pulled into the courtyard at the Lockwood estate and made their way inside. Walking into the entrance hall, they met Veronica and Howard with Liaison Officer Faith Evanson. They looked a little worse for wear. Jon guessed they probably hadn’t slept very well after the news of Spencer’s murder, but that was to be expected.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Jon said, and Kate echoed his words.

  “Thank you,” Veronica replied. “It’s not been a good night.”

  “I can imagine,” Kate replied. “We’ll do what we can.”

  “You have the killer in custody, right?” Howard asked.

  “We have a suspect.” Jon sighed, wishing he could tell them that yes, they had the killer and were prosecuting him to the fullest extent of the law. But experience told him that he couldn’t offer such promises, especially with these kinds of gangland shootings. It would be offering them false hope when there was every chance that Jora would walk and never spend any time in jail.

  “We understand,” Veronica replied.

  “Wait, I’m not sure I do,” Howard said “I thought you had the killer?”

  “We have someone who was close to the scene, but I really can’t say much more than that. Not at this stage.”