The House on Downshire Hill
Page 25
“It is worth noting that the murdered girl, Barnard, had attended the same school as both the Schneider children and seems to have been the girlfriend of the son, Johann or John. When they heard their mother’s story, both children determined to come back to England as soon as they could and confront their father with what they had learned.”
“So, as Mr Barratt would seek to persuade you, Conrad Taylor lived out the last 20 years of his life believing that his son was a murderer, and with the knowledge that he had himself quite unlawfully buried the body of Susan Barnard in order to protect his son from prosecution. And all this time, of course, the accused, Rowbotham, lived next door only too well aware of what had happened and doubtless believing that his secret was safe. But something was about to go wrong. One day there was a knock at the door and John Schneider presented himself. You have heard from Mr Schneider how he told Rowbotham that he was looking for his father, and asked if he still lived next door. In fairness to the defence, you should remember that this account of the conversation is disputed by the accused, who denies that Schneider made any mention of the man living next door being his father.”
“Now, Mr Barratt says, Rowbotham panicked for a second time. He must have known that as soon as John Schneider was able to speak to his father and tell him what his mother had seen and assumed, Conrad Taylor would know that he had been tragically mistaken. He would also be able to put two and two together: if neither he nor his son had murdered Susan Barnard, then who was the only other possible suspect for the girl’s murder? Rowbotham.”
“And so the prosecution case is that Rowbotham went to the house next door, managed to persuade Conrad Taylor to let him in, and murdered him there and then by striking him over the head with a hammer. There are two points you may remember from the evidence here: first, the murder weapon has never been found; second, traces of the accused’s DNA were found in the room where Conrad Taylor’s body was subsequently discovered by the police.”
“For the defence, Mr Fuller argues that the accused has freely admitted having been in Wentworth House on a number of occasions and so it is hardly surprising that his DNA would be found there. He also argues that the prosecution’s case rests largely on supposition. He says that there is no evidence linking the accused directly with either victim at the time of their murder. Strictly speaking, this may be true, and yet…”
“And yet the prosecution alleges that the accused made not one but two fatal blunders, one in respect of each killing. This may be a convenient moment to introduce the point, which Mr Fuller has quite understandably emphasised repeatedly, that until very late on in the enquiry the accused was not an obvious suspect in respect of either killing; in fact he was not a suspect at all. The police actually had in custody a man – a man arrested incidentally with the active cooperation of the accused – whom they had charged with Conrad Taylor’s murder. You have heard Superintendent Collison explain very frankly and honestly that at the time the case against this man – a Mr Rajarshi – seemed very compelling. He had been living with the deceased, he had been removing money from the deceased’s bank account, he admitted finding the deceased’s murdered body but took no steps to alert the police, he effectively went on the run to conceal his whereabouts, and it was known that he was an illegal immigrant who had previously lied about his circumstances and then absconded from the authorities.”
The judge paused and took a measured sip of water.
“You then heard how a seemingly random statement by the accused turned the police investigation in a very different direction. While being interviewed by the Superintendent and one of his colleagues, the accused claimed to have seen the deceased, Barnard, about a week before her death wearing a very distinctive pink raincoat. It suddenly struck the police that they had previously taken a statement from a school friend of Susan Barnard with whom she had gone shopping in the West End on the day before her murder, the day on which she had bought the pink raincoat in question. In other words, for the accused to have known about the raincoat he can only have seen it at some time during the few hours leading up to Barnard’s murder, a time when he said he was nowhere near Hampstead but was in fact spending the weekend with his mother elsewhere in London.”
“It is only fair to point out, as the defence have done very ably, that this interview was conducted on the basis of the accused being a witness rather than a suspect. The defence have sought to have this evidence excluded on that basis, but I have ruled that the police acted properly. At the time of the interview they had no reason to believe that Rowbotham was a suspect, and were therefore under no obligation to treat him as one.”
He looked down at his notes again.
“You should also remember that when Rowbotham gave evidence in his own defence he said he had seen the pink raincoat as he was looking out of the window when the remains of Susan Barnard were removed from his back garden. However, this is flatly contradicted by the Scene Of Crime Officers, who say that the excavation was concealed by a tent, and that it is common practice to cover a body with a tarpaulin before removing it from the ground. The photographs of the scene taken at the time which you have seen – and I’m sorry if they were distressing – bear this out.”
“Turning now to the second murder, we come to what the prosecution say is another damning slip by the accused. As the police started investigating the crime afresh, this time with Rowbotham as the prime suspect, one of the police officers, Detective Sergeant Desai, remembered a conversation with Rowbotham before the apprehension of Rajarshi in which he referred to the deceased, Taylor, having been struck on the head. It suddenly occurred to the Sergeant that the accused could not possibly have known this, as no details of the cause of death had been released to the media. Could not possibly have known it, that is, unless the accused were himself the murderer.”
“Unsurprisingly, this evidence has been hotly disputed by the defence. You have heard Mr Fuller, when cross-examining Sergeant Desai, suggest that she simply made it up in order to incriminate the accused, a suggestion which she steadfastly denied. You have similarly heard Mr Barratt cross-examining the accused, whose case is that he never said such a thing, although he did at one stage suggest that the Sergeant might herself have imparted this information, a suggestion which she in turn denied.”
“Members of the jury, this is clearly a point of great importance since it is the only direct, as opposed to circumstantial evidence linking the accused to the murder of Conrad Taylor. In the case of such a direct conflict of evidence I can only say this: you have heard both witnesses give evidence, and it is for you to decide whose version of events you prefer.”
The judge now began to give the standard direction on reasonable doubt. As he did so his pace quickened perceptibly since he had one eye on the clock, and half his thoughts on steak and kidney pie. With a facility which argued for a long and successful future career on the bench, he brought his summing up to a masterly conclusion at precisely one minute before the luncheon adjournment, and then stood with the rest of the court as the jury filed off self-consciously to their room.
Afterwards the detectives stood around in a rather tense group with the prosecuting counsel. Adrian Partington, Patrick Barratt’s habitual junior, contrived to stand next to Karen Willis.
“What do you reckon?” Collison asked nervously.
Barrett shook his head.
“On the second one, impossible to say. It all comes down to whether the jury will believe the police evidence or not. On the first one, I’m pretty confident.”
“But saying you’ve been verballed is the oldest trick in the book, isn’t it?” asked Desai, clearly not overawed by the august presence of a Queen’s Counsel complete with wig and silk gown. “Surely they won’t fall for that?”
“It’s an old trick for us, but not for them,” Barratt pointed out gently. “They won’t have heard it before, but they may well have seen lots of television programmes where the police stitch people up in the cells.”
He glanced longingly at the swinging door to the outside. He was anxious for a smoke, but it was clear that it was pelting down with rain in the road beyond.
“Would you like to borrow my umbrella, Mr Barratt?” Willis asked mischievously, having divined his purpose.
He looked with dismay at the colourful object proffered to him. Craving competed briefly with potential embarrassment, but lost the unequal struggle.
“Thank you, no,” he said reluctantly. “I must say, it’s very … what colour is that exactly?”
“It’s magenta, and it matches her stockings,” Desai said enthusiastically. “It’s nice isn’t it?”
Collison had been momentarily distracted as Andrew Fuller walked past him with a tight little smile of acknowledgement, but now came to the rescue.
“Why don’t you borrow mine, Patrick? It’s black and it matches my socks.”
Later, a little while later, they watched Jack Rowbotham stand unsteadily in the dock while the jury delivered their verdicts: guilty of murder on both counts.
METROPOLITAN POLICE ACRONYMS OR ABBREVIATIONS
AC Assistant Commissioner
ACC Assistant Commissioner (Crime)
CID Criminal Investigation Department (the Detective branch of the Met)
CPO Chief Police Officer (see above)
Con(n) (1) A conference with a barrister (courtroom lawyer) at his chambers (offices) (2) A convict
Con(v) To deceive
Con Man A fraudster, one who steals by deception
CPS Crown Prosecution Service
DC Detective Constable
DCI Detective Chief Inspector
DCS Detective Chief Superintendent
DI Detective Inspector
DS Detective Sergeant, but also Detective Superintendent
Guv Guvnor, an acceptable informal substitute for “sir”
Five MI5, that part of the security services that deals with counter-terrorism and intelligence matters within the UK
Met The (London) Metropolitan Police Force
SIO Senior Investigating Officer
SOCO Scene of Crime Officer(s)
Super Superintendent
Yard Scotland Yard, the headquarters of the Met
SLANG USED BT THE METROPOLITAN POLICE
Bang to rights The situation of a suspect against whom there seems to be an unanswerable case
Blues and Twos The sirens and flashing blue lights used by emergency vehicles in the UK
Brief Applied generically to any lawyer representing or advising a suspect
Chummy Often used as a name for an as yet unidentified criminal (US ‘perp’)
Force “the force” = the Met
Job “in the job” = to be a police office
Nick(n) A police station, as in “down the nick”
Nick(v) To arrest or apprehend, as in “you’re nicked”
GUY FRASER-SAMPSON is an established writer, having published not only fiction but also books on a diverse range of subjects including finance, investment, economics and cricket. His darkly disturbing economic history The Mess We’re In was nominated for the Orwell Prize.
His Mapp & Lucia novels have all been optioned by BBC TV, and have won high praise from other authors including Alexander McCall Smith, Gyles Brandreth and Tom Holt. The second was featured in an exclusive interview with Mariella Forstrup on Radio 4, and Guy’s entertaining talks on the series have been heard at a number of literary events including the Sunday Times Festival in Oxford and the Daily Telegraph Festival in Dartington.
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The genteel façade of London’s Hampstead is shattered by a series of terrifying murders, and the ensuing police hunt is threatened by internal politics, and a burgeoning love triangle within the investigative team. Pressurised by senior officers desperate for a result a new initiative is clearly needed, but what?
Intellectual analysis and police procedure vie with the gut instinct of ‘copper’s nose’, and help appears to offer itself from a very unlikely source a famous fictional detective. A psychological profile of the murderer allows the police to narrow down their search, but will Scotland Yard lose patience with the team before they can crack the case?
Praised by fellow authors and readers alike, this is a truly original crime story, speaking to a contemporary audience yet harking back to the Golden Age of detective fiction. Intelligent, quirky and mannered, it has been described as ‘a love letter to the detective novel’. Above it all hovers Hampstead, a magical village evoking the elegance of an earlier time, and the spirit of mystery-solving detectives.
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The second in the Hampstead Murders series opens with a sudden death at an iconic local venue, which some of the team believe may be connected with an unsolved murder featuring Cold War betrayals worthy of George Smiley.
It soon emerges that none other than Agatha Christie herself may be the key witness who is able to provide the missing link.
As with its bestselling predecessor, Death in Profile, the book develops the lives and loves of the team at ‘Hampstead Nick’. While the next phase of a complicated love triangle plays itself out, the protagonists, struggling to crack not one but two apparently insoluble murders, face issues of national security in working alongside Special Branch.
On one level a classic whodunit, this quirky and intelligent read harks back not only to the world of Agatha Christie, but also to the Cold War thrillers of John Le Carré, making it a worthy successor to Death in Profile which was dubbed ‘a love letter to the detective novel’.
THE THIRD GRIPPING TITLE IN THE HAMPSTEAD MURDERS SERIES
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The third volume of the bestselling Hampstead Murders sees the team become involved with a suspicious death at a crime writers’ convention. Is this the result of a bitterly contested election for the Chair of the Crime Writers’ Association or are even darker forces at work?
Peter Collins, who is attending the convention as the author of a new book on poisoning in Golden Age fiction, worries that the key clue to unlock this puzzle may be buried within his own memories. A character called Miss Marple offers her advice, but how should the police receive this?
Meanwhile an act of sudden, shocking violence and a dramatic revelation threaten tragic consequences...
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When a woman identified as the wife of a prominent lawyer dies at an exclusive women’s club, the team from Hampstead police station find themselves thrown into a baffling investigation with very little evidence to offer any guidance.
By coincidence, Metcalfe, Collins and Willis were all attending a vintage dinner dance at the club at the estimated time of death. Can they remember anything between them which might indicate a solution?
Set against a background of professors, barristers, and serial adultery, the fourth in the Hampstead Murders series continues the pattern set by its predecessors: strong, character-driven contemporary narrative written in the spirit of the Golden Age of detective writing. Praised by leading crime-writers, and garnering rave reviews from book bloggers, the books have been described as elegant, intelligent, quirky and ‘a love letter to the detective novel’. All agree they are very ‘different’ from the standard fare of modern crime fiction.
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