Money Can Kill

by Wonny Lea

  Matt, who had been making a few notes, checked back on some of the points that had been said and asked a few questions. ‘What time did your son arrive here on that Friday, and what was the first time he left the house after that?’

  ‘It was a few minutes after five when I heard his car, and I know that for certain because I had just been speaking to someone from my bank and she told me that she would normally have left the branch by that time but had been waiting for my call. As to when he left, it wasn’t until after the weekend.

  ‘Now you know all our sordid family details, Chief Inspector, will you answer the question you so neatly sidestepped some time ago? Has something happened to Catherine Romanes, and if so what has it got to do with Simon?’

  Martin accepted the offer of another coffee and this time Fiona had the same. At first she was confused when Martin referred to the kidnapping that had recently been in the news but then things became clear as he described how the arrest of the kidnapper had led to the discovery of more than just the one body they had been expecting. She sat forward in her chair when Martin revealed that the bodies had been found on the site where Catherine and her husband were planning to build a house, and she put her hands to her mouth as she realised what he was saying – that the second body was more than likely her son’s ex-lover.

  ‘How long had she been there?’ Fiona asked.

  ‘It looks as if she died soon after she left her home, and that was on the Friday night we have been talking about.’ Martin spoke firmly. ‘So you will see why it is so important that we have your son’s movements for that weekend and that they can be positively verified.’

  ‘That means that you believe Catherine Romanes was murdered and you came here believing that my son killed her.’

  Martin interrupted. ‘We came here hoping to speak to your son in connection with her death, yes. Without knowing any of that you have been able to provide him with an alibi for what we believe to be the time of her death, but we will still need to speak to Simon and Brian.’

  ‘Simon lives in Reading with his partner Melanie, but we see them frequently and will all be flying St Lucia for their wedding in a couple of weeks. Then it’s back here for a party the likes of which this old place hasn’t seen for centuries – I’ll send you an invitation if you like.’

  As the security gates closed behind Martin’s car Matt looked back. The daylight was fading and strategically placed solar lights were emitting a faint glow around the edge of the pond. ‘Now that’s what I would call a des-res, but I couldn’t imagine living there with just one other person and I don’t know many women who would fancy staying there alone, as she will be tonight.’

  ‘You forget, Matt, she was born there and her family have always lived there, and so for her the place is simply home – it’s what she’s always known. Did you notice that in spite of the size of the place and the fact that she has money she isn’t a slave to any interior decorator? Her lounge in particular welcomes you to curl up on one of those randomly placed armchairs. She is a woman with taste and I’ll bet their son’s wedding party will be spectacular.’

  Matt nodded. ‘No chance we can accept her invitation is there?’

  ‘No chance!’

  Matt’s mind returned to business. ‘If, as is likely, we are ruling Simon Davidson off our list of possible suspects, then where does that leave us? As you said earlier, it’s possible that Manuel Romanes could have been in the country at the time Catherine went missing and he certainly had a motive.’

  ‘I’m hungry and tired and any more thinking will have to wait until tomorrow.’ Martin was about to suggest dropping Matt off at his home when a call from Sgt Evans sent them in another direction.

  Matt had received the call and Martin quizzed him about it.

  ‘What exactly did John say?’

  ‘He said that Elsie Hopkins had called to say that she and her sister received a message from the hospital about an hour ago suggesting that Peter Washington’s condition was deteriorating. Mrs Hopkins told John that she knew that you wanted to speak to her brother-in-law and under the circumstances you may want to do that now. Sounds as if she meant now or never. Apparently they were on their way to see him when she rang Goleudy to let you know, and so they’re likely to be there already. Do you want to go straight there?’

  ‘“Want” is not a word I’d have used myself, but I would like to speak to Mr Washington and I don’t think it can wait until tomorrow.’

  After driving to the hospital and parking the car the detectives were directed to a side ward on the Acute Medical Unit. Before they got to the ward they saw Elsie Hopkins sitting on a chair in the corridor, but there was no sign of her sister.

  ‘Margaret is in the room with Peter,’ she told them. ‘I knew you’d come after I left a message with that very nice Sergeant Evans, but I’m afraid you’re too late. Peter passed away about twenty minutes ago, and mercifully it was a peaceful ending, but I’m not sure if it was the fact that he was no longer in pain or the fact that he had told us some things that he’s kept bottled up for years.

  ‘When we got the message from the hospital we knew we were coming to say goodbye to Peter, and Margaret was in a dilemma regarding whether or not to tell her husband that there was the possibility that Catherine had been found. We decided to play it by ear and let it depend upon Peter’s state of mind. In the event it was he who opened up the discussion about his daughter.’

  ‘Look, Chief Inspector, what I have to tell you is going to take some time, and my priority just at this moment is my sister. Not only has she just watched her husband die but she has listened to a deathbed confession that will stay with her for the rest of her life.’

  As she ended her sentence Elsie got up and opened the door of the cubicle to reveal her sister still holding the hand of her husband. Neither of the detectives had met Peter Washington in life and they were shocked by what they saw. He looked years older than his wife and his skin didn’t just have the pallor of death, it was jaundiced and seemed to have some sort of subcutaneous lesions. It was hard to comprehend what dreadful secret had led a man to drinking himself into that state and Martin found himself wondering if Peter had confessed to killing his daughter.

  ‘Is there anything we can do?’ asked Martin. ‘We can wait and give you a lift if that’s of any help.’

  Elsie shook her head. ‘We’ve got another sister, and although we aren’t very close I did phone her when Peter died and she’s coming to take us back to my place. If you could give me until tomorrow to sort out my thoughts I would be very grateful and then I’ll tell you exactly what Peter told us.’

  Martin nodded and Elsie closed the door.

  ‘What do you make of that?’ asked Matt. ‘He obviously confessed to killing his daughter. It must have been during that argument that Mrs Washington thought she had heard. Well, it lets Manuel Romanes off the hook, and supports what Fiona Davidson told us about her son. Catherine’s father would obviously have known about the building site. He ironically took his daughter’s body to the new home she would never live in, and may have influenced his son-in-law to discontinue the work on the house – who knows?’

  Martin was only half-listening to Matt as he was imagining what could have happened on that Friday night and came up with a sudden thought. ‘I wonder what he did with her mobile?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I wonder what Catherine’s father did with her mobile phone?’ Martin repeated.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, it’s just a box my brain feels the need to tick. Simon apparently left her a message breaking off their relationship and I would just like to know when in the timescale of events that happened.’

  ‘But it doesn’t make any difference now, guv. We know broadly what happened and it seems as if we will get chapter and verse when we speak to Elsie Hopkins tomorrow.’

  Martin stopped on the stairs leading to the main entrance to the hospital and turned back.

  ‘It’s no good,
you know what I’m like when something bugs me, and this is bugging me.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Matt.

  ‘Back to the ward, hopefully to get Elsie’s cooperation.’

  Half an hour later, and now with the need to have headlights fully on, Martin pulled up outside the farm he knew so well from his childhood for the second time that day. Elsie had given him a key and explained which room was still considered to be Catherine’s.

  It was apparently just as she had left it, even to the one drawer not being quite closed because of the belt buckle. ‘Why do people do this? Turn a room into a sort of mausoleum. It’s been dusted and vacuumed but nothing else has been touched and I feel a bit like a shrine raider.’

  In spite of his words Matt was looking through drawers and cupboards until Martin told him to stop because the phone was sitting in full view on the dressing table.

  ‘Come to think of it, I don’t really know why we thought it would be hidden away and it’s probably sitting more or less where she left it. Nothing else has been disturbed or taken and I guess her father had no reason to remove her mobile.’ Martin picked up the phone.

  ‘It’s as flat as a pancake, and even if it wasn’t we may not have been able to access it – but we both know someone who will have no trouble in making this thing talk.’

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Told all

  Martin had refused Matt’s suggestion of a drink and a pub meal and had instead dropped him off and headed for home. By ten thirty he and Shelley were sitting up in bed eating slices of pizza Margherita and drinking red wine. Not knowing what time to expect Martin home, Shelley had eaten earlier, and she watched him devour three large slices before he lay back on his pillow and put his half-finished glass of wine on the bedside table.

  ‘I was starving and I think that’s my favourite pizza. Nothing fancy, just a tomato topping with mozzarella cheese and fresh basil.’

  Shelley grinned as she watched Martin adjust his pillow and close his eyes, and after the day he had had she was pleased to see him so relaxed.

  ‘I agree about the simplicity of the Margherita but I like mine spiced up a bit so would go for a pepperoni every time. Don’t you think?’

  There was no reply from Martin and it didn’t take a detective to discover why – he was fast asleep!

  ‘I was expecting some red hot spiced-up lovemaking from you, Martin Phelps, but I guess there’s always tomorrow.’ Shelley spoke the words softly as she snuggled up beside Martin and joined his dreams.

  Just before nine the following morning Martin was in Incident Room One and Charlie propelled herself towards him. ‘It was no problem,’ she said. ‘It took me less than five minutes. It will take some time to re-charge but just keep it plugged in and you’ll be able to listen to the last message – and from what you’ve told me it’s the one you want it to be. There was an access password but it wasn’t difficult to override it. Do you want me to put the message on speaker for you?’

  Getting a nod of approval she pushed a button and a male voice was heard faltering over his words. ‘I’ve tried ringing you and I’ve texted you asking you to call me but I’ve heard nothing … Look, I wanted to stop you going to our agreed meeting place because I won’t be turning up.’

  The voice was slurred and the man that Martin knew to be Simon Davidson was struggling to form his sentences. Martin remembered his mother saying that her son had needed a great deal of Dutch courage to make that call.

  ‘My parents know about the money and they’ve put it right for me.’ At that point his voice crumbled and the words were more difficult to hear but his message went along the lines the detectives had been told and ended with a grovelling apology.

  ‘I would consider myself well and truly dumped if that message had been left for me,’ said Charlie. ‘Is there anything else you want from this phone?’

  ‘Nothing for now, but you could just go through it and check things in case there is anything. We believe Catherine was killed by her father, and as he died last night he won’t be standing trial. No rush, just have a look when you get a moment.’ Martin turned to Matt and suggested that he ring Elsie Hopkins to see when would be a suitable time for them to visit.

  ‘I’m meeting with Chief Superintendent Atkinson in a few minutes, but he says we shouldn’t be more than half an hour so any time after ten will be fine for me.’

  ‘Is it about the reorganisation?’ asked Matt, and Martin noticed that Helen and a number of other officers were waiting for his reply.

  ‘Probably, but I’m not expecting him to tell me exactly what the new structure looks like or who is being proposed for any new posts. I think we’ll be discussing the process of appeal for any of us who find our jobs substantially changed. It’s not long now before we’ll all know exactly what’s on offer but don’t think I don’t realise what a difficult time this is for everybody.’

  No one said anything and Martin left for his meeting.

  Matt had been told by Elsie Hopkins that they could visit at any time and so as soon as Martin returned from the top floor he and Matt set off. To his credit Matt didn’t quiz his boss on the substance of his session with the Chief Superintendent, but he noticed that Martin was stern-faced and tight-lipped on the journey to the farm.

  He tried to lighten the atmosphere. ‘This shouldn’t take too long, and there’s always the chance we’ll be offered some more of those delicious scones that Helen has been raving about. Do you think Mrs Hopkins would mind if I asked her for the recipe?’

  ‘Given what they went through yesterday I think their minds will be on other things than scones, but if the going gets tough it might serve as an ice-breaker.’

  Margaret was sitting in exactly the same place as she had been the previous day, and as before it was Elsie who let them in.

  Martin spoke to Margaret. ‘I didn’t want to invade your privacy yesterday but I do want to offer my sincere condolences and to hope that what we have to go over now will not cause you too much distress.’

  Margaret raised a faint smile and he saw for the first time how much alike the two sisters were. He recognised a familiar scene – one he had seen many times when a family had been dealt a tragedy. The two women had done their crying and were probably feeling wrung out but were desperately wanting to talk.

  Elsie had arranged the coffee, but for the moment there were no signs of those famous scones, and they all sat around the table.

  ‘My sister wants to be the one to tell you exactly what was said at the hospital, but she wants me to interrupt if I remember anything she misses out.’ As she spoke Elsie moved her chair a bit closer to Margaret and waited for her sister to speak.

  ‘We got a call from the hospital more or less saying that Peter was not going to be with us much longer and so we got there as quickly as we could. We were both in shock regarding the news you had given us and I wasn’t sure how much, if any, I would tell Peter.

  ‘As it happened I was spared that decision because as soon as we got to his bedside Peter started to talk about Catherine. At first I thought he was rambling and he did jump about a lot but eventually we got around to the night she left home.

  ‘He told me that he heard her shouting at someone in her room and he thought that someone was me and so he went up to see what was going on. We had been quarrelling earlier and he thought she was having another go at me. Anyway when he got to her room there was no one else there and she was just shouting at her mobile phone.’

  ‘He asked her who she was shouting at and she told him no one. What she actually said – and you must excuse me for repeating it – was “the fucking bastard didn’t have the balls to tell me to my face, he left a fucking voice message.” That’s what Peter said she had told him.’

  ‘Go on if you are able,’ Martin said.

  ‘Well, Peter had to stop for breath at that point, but then he told us that Catherine acted really strangely and that the best he could describe her actions was like someone putti
ng their house in order. I didn’t really understand what he meant, did you, Elsie?’

  Elsie shook her head. ‘Not really, but it did explain how we found her room so unusually tidy, and when Peter told us I had no idea what caused her to do it but I think I do now. I’ll come to that later. Margaret, you just carry on telling the chief inspector what Peter said.

  ‘I’m going to struggle with the next bit, and will you forgive me if I get muddled up or don’t feel able to continue and ask Elsie to finish off?’

  Matt told her not to worry and added what he thought would be a few words of support. ‘I think you’re being amazingly brave, and there aren’t many people with the courage to speak as you are. Your husband obviously carried a terrible burden for years and it was probably a relief for him to finally admit to killing your daughter but now you are left with a double tragedy.’

  ‘No! Oh, no! That’s not what happened, although even I went through a period of time when I believed Peter had killed Catherine. That’s not what happened, is it, Elsie? – that’s not what Peter said.’

  Elsie jumped in quickly. ‘No, Matt, I realise how we may have inadvertently led you to that conclusion, but as my sister has just said it’s not what happened.’

  Martin could see the puzzled look on Matt’s face and knew that they were both equally bemused by the turn this account of what they had believed to be a confession of murder was taking.

  ‘Let me explain the next bit,’ Elsie suggested and Margaret simply nodded.

  ‘Peter told us that Catherine seemed to not even know he was there and was calmer than he had ever seen her, but the one thing she did say was “goodbye”. He said there didn’t seem any point in arguing with her and went downstairs expecting to hear her drive off to confront the object of her earlier anger.

  ‘When after about half an hour he had not heard her car leaving he told us he had a feeling that she was calling out to him. We asked him what he meant and he said he could only relate it to when she had been a little girl and had a bad dream. She would call out in the night and it was always Peter who was able to comfort her.’