A Dish Served Cold

by Diney Costeloe

  “No, a bit later their front door slammed and I did look out then. Someone was leaving the house, but it wasn’t Pam or Roger, it was a blond girl, walking off down the road.” Margaret leaned forward, confidingly, “I think he was having a piece on the side and poor Pam came home and found them.”

  “You didn’t see anyone else leave the house?”

  “No, I said. Anyway it was getting dark and I pulled my curtains.”

  “And you heard nothing else?”

  “No,” Margaret said firmly, adding with a righteous sniff, “it wasn’t my business. I don’t listen on purpose, you know!”

  “Of course not,” Baron said soothingly, “but if there had been some more loud noises, you couldn’t have failed to hear them, could you? What with the wall being so thin.”

  Mollified, Margaret agreed that she could not, but repeated that she’d heard nothing more that evening.”

  “And you haven’t seen Pam Smith since that day?”

  “No. No sign of her. That daughter, Karen, she’s been in and out a lot. Helping her dad, I suppose, but she didn’t get on with Pam either.”

  “So,” Crozier said, looking up from Margaret Hillier’s statement, “we have a threat to kill, but not a very serious one, would you think?”

  “Kind of thing you might say in the middle of a row,” Grant agreed.

  “Even so, Pam Smith is now missing,” Crozier reminded him. “She hasn’t been seen since that night, so we do have to take her disappearance seriously. Roger Smith is clearly a violent man. Look at the way he suddenly blew when we were at the house. He could easily have done that and hit Pam just once too often.”

  “But why wait until April to dispose of her body?” asked Grant. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “That certainly is a question,” admitted Crozier. “How does this sound? Suppose she did simply walk out in February and then came back in April for some reason. They could have had another row then and that was when he killed her.”

  “Possible,” agreed Grant. “But if that is the case where was she in the meantime and what did she live on? No money drawn from the bank remember, and Smith says she had none of her own.”

  “Right. But if you remember, the daughter, Karen, says that Pam took money from the safe when she went,” Crozier reminded him. “Now if that were true, she wouldn’t need to draw any money for a while.”

  “But is what Karen says true, or is she trying to cover up for her father?” wondered Grant. “That was clearly what she was trying to do on her shopping spree in London. That bank account wasn’t activated until Roger Smith knew we were going to be checking it out. Pam Smith never used her old debit card. Someone reported the card stolen and the phone records show there was a call to the bank from the Smith household. It came at the right time on the right day, and I think it was made by Karen Smith pretending to be Pamela. The old card was cancelled and the new card ended up in Karen’s possession”

  There was a knock on the door and PC Baron came in. “Report from the lab, sir,” he said handing Crozier an envelope.

  Crozier opened it and scanned the contents. He read the pages through twice and then looked up at Grant. “This is the report on the bloodstain on the carpet on Roger Smith’s landing,” he said. “The DNA confirms that is Pam’s blood, not Roger’s as he told us. She was in the house that weekend he reported his car stolen. That bloodstain was pretty fresh when I saw it on the Monday. So, it’s her blood in the house, her blood in the car, and she’s still missing. I think it’s time we had another chat with Roger Smith, don’t you?”

  They interviewed him the next morning at the prison, with Jonathan Keller in attendance.

  “We are here today to question you about something entirely different from the charges you currently face,” Crozier told him when the formalities were over. “We are concerned, as I think you know, about the whereabouts of your wife, Mrs Pamela Smith.”

  “I don’t know where she is,” Roger said wearily. “I’ve told you that till I’m blue in the face. If that’s all you’ve come for you’ve had a wasted journey.”

  “When did you last see your wife, Mr Smith?” asked Crozier, ignoring Roger’s averted face.

  “Told you. She walked out at the end of February. I haven’t seen her since.”

  “I suggest you have,” Crozier said calmly. “I suggest she came back home on or about the 16th April. She came to the house. You had another row, in the heat of which you killed her.”

  Roger jerked his head round and almost screeched, “What?”

  “That’s a very serious accusation, inspector,” Jonathan Keller said. “What possible grounds have you for suggesting such a thing to my client?”

  “Substantial grounds,” Crozier told him. “Tests have been run on a bloodstain on Mr Smith’s carpet. He told me that the blood came from a head wound he sustained when he fell on the stairs. However, DNA tests have shown that it is Mrs Smith’s blood. It was a comparatively new stain when I saw it on 19th April, so I can only conclude that Mrs Smith must have been in the house recently. The blood in Mr Smith’s car, both on the upholstery and the clothes which were found there, also belongs to Mrs Smith. On Saturday, 17th April, Mr Smith reported that his car had been stolen from outside his house during the previous night. Mr Smith was seen driving that car on the evening of 16th April by two of my officers, so it was not stolen then. I suggest that sometime between when the officers saw Mr Smith in his car and when he reported it stolen, he and Mrs Smith met at his house, that there was a fight and Mrs Smith was killed. He then put the body into the car and drove to Belshire. He hid the car in woods near an old quarry, and somewhere along the way he dumped Mrs Smith’s body. The next day he reported the car stolen so that if and when it was found, it would have nothing to do with him. These are the grounds on which I base my suspicions, Mr Keller. I shall be very interested to hear what your client has to say.”

  Roger looked as if he had been turned to stone. He sat staring bleakly at the two policemen, but said nothing.

  “I suggest to you, Mr Smith, that when you discovered we had concerns about Mrs Smith’s safety, you tried to cover her disappearance by sending your daughter out to use Mrs Smith’s debit card, to make us think that she was alive and well and happily spending money.” Crozier waited again for Roger to speak but when he still said nothing the inspector went on. “We have a witness who states that she heard you threaten to kill your wife on at least one occasion. Your wife has not been seen since February, and though it seems unlikely you killed her then, it seems very possible that you have killed her since. If this isn’t the case, it’s about time you began talking to us and telling us what really happened.”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” Jonathan Keller advised Roger. “It’s up to you.”

  “Pam left in February,” Roger said dully. “She came home that evening and we had a row. She left.”

  “What was the row about?” asked Crozier.

  “She found me with someone else.”

  “Another woman?”

  “Yes. She started screeching at us and threw something at the mirror on the wardrobe. It splintered all over the room.”

  Crozier remembered seeing that the mirror had been broken and he nodded encouragingly. “So what happened next?”

  “My…friend left and Pam locked herself in the office.”

  “Why did she do that?”

  “I was angry. I shouted at her.”

  “And she thought you were going to hit her.”

  “You don’t have to answer that,” said the solicitor.

  When Roger didn’t answer, Crozier said, “So, she locked herself into the office. What did you do?”

  “I got dressed and ran after my friend.”

  “And then?” prompted Crozier as Roger paused.

  “We went to the pub for a drink.”

  “How long did you stay there?”

  Roger shrugged. “I don’t know, an hour or so I suppose. Maybe a
bit more. When I came home again I had something to eat and then went to bed.”

  “Was your wife in the house then?”

  “I thought she was. The office door was locked and I assumed she was still locked inside.”

  “Did you speak to her?”

  “I called through the door, but she didn’t answer.”

  “So, what did you do then?”

  “I told you, inspector, I went to bed.” A touch of the old belligerence crept back into Roger’s voice.

  “What is the name of your friend?” Grant asked suddenly. “The one who’d been…visiting?”

  “That’s not important,” Roger muttered, the spark of belligerence extinguished by the change of tack.

  “I think it is,” Crozier said mildly. “After all she was there when your wife came home and can confirm your story.”

  Roger remained mutinously dumb. The memory of the frightener’s visit was enough to keep him so. If he mentioned any connection with Gord and Charleigh, it might lead the police further up the chain, putting himself and Karen in real danger; and even if it did not, he knew that he would be in dead trouble with Gord if he implicated Charleigh. Roger didn’t relish a visit from Gord; indeed the thought terrified him.

  “Did your wife take money from your safe when she left that night?”

  Another change of tack. Roger nodded wearily. “Yes.”

  “How much?” asked Grant, and when Roger didn’t answer straight away he repeated the question.

  “Five thousand pounds.” Roger spoke so softly that Crozier asked him to say it again.

  “Do you usually keep that amount of money in your safe, Mr Smith?” Crozier sounded surprised.

  “I always keep some cash there,” Roger said, “in case of emergencies.”

  “And Mrs Smith took it all. When did you discover the loss? Next morning?”

  “No,” murmured Roger.

  “So when?” persisted Crozier.

  “About ten days.”

  “Ten days after she left?

  “I didn’t open the safe,” Roger said. “I didn’t know she knew the combination.”

  “So, you found the money missing. What did you do?” asked Grant.

  “What could I do?” demanded Roger. “She’d vanished. I didn’t know where she’d gone. I didn’t know where to look, and quite frankly I didn’t much care. I just stopped putting money into the joint account. I reckoned she’d had enough.”

  “Were you surprised not to hear from her again?” asked Crozier.

  Roger shrugged. “A bit. Well, not from her. I thought I’d hear from some lawyer saying that she wanted a divorce.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  “No. I keep telling you I didn’t hear from her again. Not until that night.”

  “Which night was that, Mr Smith?” enquired Crozier.

  “The night you’re talking about. The night in April when she came back.”

  “Tell us about that night,” Crozier said.

  “Well,” Roger began reluctantly, “I came home about half-past ten. The light was on upstairs and I thought it was Karen. I went up to see what she was doing and found Pam on the landing.”

  “What was she doing?” prompted Crozier when he said no more.

  “She had the loft open and she was coming down the ladder.”

  “She’d been into the loft?”

  “Yes, when I asked her what she was doing she said she’d come for the pearls her grandmother had left her.”

  “They were in the loft?” Crozier sounded sceptical. “Why not in the safe?”

  Roger shrugged again. “She said she’d hidden them there. I thought they were in a safety deposit box in the bank.”

  “So, she’d been into the loft to retrieve her pearls. I assume she had thought that you would be out and simply let herself in.”

  “I suppose,” Roger agreed. “I’d changed the lock on the front door, but she must have had a back door key. Karen found the back door unlocked the next morning.”

  “So, you found her in the house. Had she been to the safe again?”

  “No, or if she had she couldn’t open it. I’d changed the combination as soon as I found she’d taken my money.”

  “So, what happened next?”

  Roger thought for a moment, as if trying to get things straight in his mind. “I went up to her and took her wrist. I wanted to make sure it was only her pearls she had with her.”

  “And was it?” This is like pulling teeth, Crozier thought as he dragged the story out.

  “She had the jewel case in one hand. I took the other and she bit me!” His surprise at this action still sounded in his voice. “She bit my hand and then she went mad.”

  Crozier remembered the strange-shaped bruise he had noticed on Roger’s hand on his first visit, semi-circular, like teeth. That figures, he thought. What he said was, “How….mad?”

  “How do you think? She was like a wild animal, biting and scratching and kicking. We were at the top of the stairs, then she fell and hit her face against the banisters. It made her nose bleed, there was blood everywhere, but she didn’t stop fighting. Then, anyway, she tripped, and I grabbed at her to save her from falling down the stairs, but she pulled me with her, and we fell from top to bottom. Could have broken my neck.” Roger rubbed his hand round the back of his neck as if to ensure that it was still unbroken. “Anyway, I was knocked out, and when I came round she’d gone.”

  “How long were you unconscious?”

  “I don’t know,” Roger growled. “It was daylight when I really came to. I felt like death, so I had some brandy, and then later Karen arrived. She helped me get up onto the bed for a while. It was when she was going out to get some food in that she found the car was missing. Pam must’ve taken it.”

  “Did she have her own set of keys?” asked Grant.

  “No, she took mine. I’d left them on the hall table as I always do.”

  “So then you reported the car stolen. Why did you do that?”

  “Well, she had stolen it, hadn’t she?” Roger said as if this were obvious.

  “You assumed she’d taken it.”

  “Stands to reason,” Roger protested. “Who else would have taken it? She took my keys and drove it away.”

  “So if you thought that, why did you report it stolen?” asked Crozier.

  “Well, it had been,” Roger snapped. “She’d driven off in it without my say so. That makes it stolen.”

  “And then she dumped it.”

  “Yes. Looks like it.” Roger’s aggressive mood was back and his chin jutted out as he made these assertions. Crozier let the matter ride for the moment and went on.

  “So, your wife drove off in the car. She took it to Belshire where she ditched it near a disused quarry. Why was your shirt in the car? Had you left it there?”

  Roger shrugged. He felt better now the police seemed to be accepting his story. “She must have picked it up and taken it with her. It certainly wasn’t in the car when I came home.”

  “And her watch?”

  “Her watch?”

  “The one you said she’d lost before Christmas.”

  “Oh, that.” Roger’s eyes shifted uneasily. “Probably been in the car for ages.”

  Crozier made no further comment but moved on again. “So, you claimed on your insurance.”

  “Well, why not?” Roger said defensively. “It was stolen after all. She had no right to take it.”

  “So, Mr Smith, that is what you say happened the night of 16th April.”

  “Yes.”

  “And why haven’t you told us all this before?” asked Crozier in his most reasonable voice. “Didn’t you think it was important? After all, you did know we were looking for your wife.”

  “Well, I didn’t know where she was, did I?”

  “But you did know she was driving your car, which might have helped us to find her. You also told us you hadn’t seen her since the middle of February, which wasn’t true either.
Are you quite sure you haven’t seen her since the night of 16th April?”

  “Quite sure.”

  “So, where is she I wonder?” Crozier mused.

  “Karen saw her in London the other day. That’s where she must be living. You should be looking there.”

  “I know what Karen says,” replied Crozier coolly. “Enquiries are being made.” He got to his feet and looked at Roger across the table. “Thank you, Mr Smith. That’s all for now. We may have some more questions for you at a later date, both with reference to the disappearance of your wife and to your other activities.”

  “Well, what do you think?” Crozier asked Grant on their way back to the police station. “Was he telling the truth?”

  “Could be, about the first part of the evening anyway. Suppose he did come home and find her in the house. He’d have been furious, specially if he thought she been raiding his safe again.” He thought for a moment or two and then added, “Wonder why she hid the pearls in the loft?”

  “So he couldn’t get his hands on them I imagine,” Crozier said. “Unless it’s all fabrication. He’s always maintained that Pam had no money of her own, hasn’t he? I think my sister told me that Roger had sold Pam’s mother’s house for her, but that Pam never saw the money. I’ll check that with Marilyn, in the meantime we continue to look for her. You’d better get up to Belcaster and see what you can find out there. Maybe someone saw something when the car was dumped.”

  “The thing that worries me,” Grant said thoughtfully, “is how Smith got back from this place in Belshire if he drove the car there in the middle of the night. It sounds a fairly isolated spot. He’d have to walk some distance to find public transport.”

  “Yes,” agreed Crozier, “unless someone went to fetch him.”

  “Karen?”

  “It’s possible. Has she got a car, do we know?”

  “She’s got a motor bike,” Grant said. “She arrived on one the evening we picked her up.”

  “So she did,” agreed Crozier, “I remember thinking it was a heavy bike for a girl to handle. I think we need another chat with that young lady. I’ll talk to her. You go to see Inspector Howard in Belcaster. Perhaps he can help you discover whether Smith could have got back on public transport.”