In Cold Blood

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In Cold Blood Page 3

by Adam Croft


  ‘But he… he needs it.’

  Caroline and Dexter exchanged a look, a silent agreement between them that this conversation was going to require more specialist intervention.

  6

  They left Sandra Forbes in the capable hands of a trained Family Liaison Officer and uniformed constables, who would be able to carry out the administrative work of seizing Martin’s hairbrush and toothbrush as evidence, as well as sensitively searching the home for anything else which might prove useful.

  Having been shown photographs of Martin and compared those to the body found under Welland Viaduct, they were in no doubt that the body was his, and in their eyes a DNA match would be a mere formality. As a result, they’d informed Sandra that the body was overwhelmingly likely to be that of her husband.

  As far as Caroline was concerned, this was a murder case. The blow to the back of Martin Forbes’s head was substantial, and wasn’t something he could’ve inflicted on himself. When that was coupled with strangulation and the possibility that Martin had died elsewhere and been moved underneath the viaduct after his death, all signs pointed towards murder.

  Before they left, they’d managed to ascertain that Sandra didn’t know of any arguments or enemies, or anyone who might want Martin dead. By all accounts he’d been a man who largely kept himself to himself, and wasn’t the sort of person to fall out with people unnecessarily.

  They’d established that Martin was the owner of a graphic design company based in Uppingham, and knew that by now the working day would’ve started in earnest, the rest of the employees naturally wondering where their boss had got to. In any case, their focus now turned to looking for suspects, motives and evidence, and it was clear they weren’t going to get much more out of Sandra Forbes at the moment.

  A little under ten minutes after leaving the Forbes house, they arrived outside the premises of Allure Design, the company Martin owned and ran, on the outskirts of Uppingham. Caroline pressed the buzzer on the outside of the door, and a few seconds later a voice answered.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hello, Detective Inspector Hills and Detective Sergeant Antoine from Rutland Police. Can we come in, please?’

  ‘Erm, well, I’m not sure. The boss isn’t in and I don’t want to…’

  ‘No-one’s in trouble,’ Caroline said. ‘We just have something we need to speak to you about.’

  There was a short click, then a buzz as the door unlocked and Dexter pulled it open, before they both stepped inside. A thirty-something woman greeted them a few moments later.

  ‘Sorry. Bit of a weird morning,’ she said. ‘I’m Monique. Operations and Finance Manager. How can I help?’

  ‘Is there somewhere we can sit down?’

  Monique took them through into what appeared to be a break room, and led them over to a seating area, which consisted of a dozen or so quarter-egg shaped chairs around a shocking pink and ridiculously shaggy circular rug.

  ‘Wow. It’s… bright in here.’

  ‘Thanks! It was designed to spark impulsivity and engage the creative side of the mind.’

  ‘Oh. It was designed?’ Caroline asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Monique said, sitting down in a bright orange quarter-egg. ‘By me.’

  ‘Ah. Well, like I say, it’s very… It’s lovely.’

  ‘Thank you. So, how can I help?’

  ‘You mentioned your boss isn’t here. I understand that’s Martin Forbes, is that right?’

  ‘Yes, dear old Martin. I mean, he’s not that old, but most people here are under forty, so he gets that little sobriquet de facto.’

  ‘Mmmm. Okay. When did you last see Martin?’

  ‘Well, that would’ve been yesterday. It’s usually one of the two of us that locks up. I had to leave early last night, so I left Martin to it.’

  ‘What time was this?’

  ‘A minute or two after five. I had to dash. Why? Is there a problem?’

  ‘I’m sorry to have to say that a body has been found, and that we believe it to be the body of Martin Forbes.’

  ‘Oh. Oh my. Are you sure?’

  ‘As certain as we can be, yes.’

  ‘Oh my.’ Monique made the sign of the cross. ‘Requiescat in pace.’

  ‘Are you religious?’ Caroline asked.

  ‘No. Classically trained.’

  ‘As what?’

  Dexter gave Caroline a look. Fortunately, Monique seemed to have drifted off into a world of her own.

  ‘What happened to him?’ she asked. ‘I mean, he’s always so fit and healthy. He runs every day.’

  ‘We’re not certain yet, but we’re currently investigating it as murder.’

  ‘Murder? Oh my.’

  ‘Yes. We’re sorry to have to ask you this, but had Martin had any strong disagreements with anyone recently? Did he have any enemies or perhaps anyone who’d been upset in business?’

  Monique looked at Caroline as if she’d just bent over and passed wind. ‘No, of course not. Martin didn’t make enemies. I mean, he was strong-minded. He knew what he wanted. He was a nulla tenaci invia est via sort of chap, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘It means “For the tenacious, no road is impassable”. You need to be pretty strong-willed in this business, but not on a level which would make anyone want to… Well, you know.’

  ‘Yes. Did his tenacity tend to upset people, then?’

  ‘Well, no. Not exactly.’

  ‘Not exactly?’

  ‘He was never mean or nasty. He’s a… I think at heart he was a good person. He always strove for better. I mean, the company’s motto is quite literally “Non progredi est regredi.” What more could you ask for?’

  ‘A translation?’

  ‘It means “To not go forward is to go backward”. Wise words in business.’

  ‘Did he come up with that motto?’ Caroline asked, noticing Dexter trying not to smile.

  Monique thought for a moment. ‘No, I think I did actually.’

  Caroline faked a reaction of impressed surprise. ‘I see. So no workplace disagreements or fallings out at all?’

  Monique opened her mouth to reply, but then stopped.

  ‘Monique?’

  ‘Well, these things happen in the workplace don’t they?’

  ‘That’s what we’re hoping to find out. What’s the specific example you have in mind?’

  ‘Well, there was one recently. It wasn’t anything major. And I don’t want to drop anyone in it unnecessarily.’

  ‘In my experience, you never know what information might prove to be pertinent. It’s always best we know everything and filter it at this end, believe me.’

  Monique swallowed. ‘Okay. Well, one of our designers, Amie Tanner, went into Martin’s office at the back end of last week. Thursday or Friday, I think it was. I didn’t catch how the conversation started, but I began to hear raised voices. I mean, on the surface of things, it was just a disagreement over a project she was working on. But it didn’t quite make any sense.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Caroline asked.

  ‘Well, it was clear there was something else under the surface. To me, it seemed like they’d fallen out over something else, and it was all bubbling to a head over this silly work thing instead.’

  ‘I see. Amie Tanner, is she in today?’

  ‘No, she’s working from home today. She’s got two young girls and her husband works shifts, so she tries to work from home at half term, as much as possible.’

  ‘Do you have her address?’

  ‘Not off the top of my head, but I can find it. It’ll be on the system.’

  ‘Thank you. That’d be much appreciated. Oh, speaking of which, we’ll need to speak to whoever looks after your computer systems. Our IT forensics people will need to take a look.’

  ‘Oh. Well, that’d be Tom. But he’s not in today. He’s due back tomorrow, I think. I can get his number, if that helps?’

  ‘Yes please. That’d be great if i
t’s not too much trouble.’

  ‘Of course! Nil volentibus arduum.’

  Caroline smiled and watched as Monique left the room.

  ‘Bloody hell, is anyone in work today?’ Caroline asked.

  ‘These designer types,’ Dexter replied. ‘Probably busy gazing out of windows. Still, obviously does the job. Looks great in here, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Does it? And what’s with all the Latin phrases? It’s like interviewing Julius bloody Caesar.’

  ‘I think the term is “Quidquid latine dictum sit, altum videtur”,’ Dexter said.

  ‘Not you as well,’ Caroline replied, sighing. ‘Go on, then. What does that one mean?’

  ‘“Anything said in Latin sounds profound.”’

  7

  Caroline stood in front of her team, ready to lead the first briefing on what would henceforth be known as Operation Cruickshank, the name chosen at random by the police computer.

  Each time she chose to take on a major case, she had conflicted emotions. There was the natural excitement and adrenaline rush of chasing a killer and getting justice for a family, but at the same time she felt a rising panic at the thought of having to carry out such a huge investigation with a team so limited by numbers.

  They were, as with any police force, heavily reliant on their uniformed colleagues, but major investigations tended to be carried out by huge teams at a regional level. So far, Caroline had managed to exploit the fact that this was merely tradition and recommended practice, and wasn’t set in stone.

  She knew, though, that if she didn’t continue to get results despite the odds being stacked against her, she’d face impossible pressure to hand all future cases over to EMSOU, the East Midlands Special Operations Unit.

  It wasn’t just her ego that would take a hit. It’d be a huge blow to her colleagues in Rutland CID, who continued to blow her away with their commitment and enthusiasm. She’d developed a loyal right-hand man in DS Dexter Antoine, and had come to regard him as a friend. Likewise, Detective Constables Sara Henshaw and Aidan Chilcott continued to go above and beyond the call of duty, and had been instrumental in solving two huge cases in the past year.

  ‘Okay, welcome to the first morning briefing on Operation Cruickshank, the investigation into the murder of Martin Forbes, whose body was found below Welland Viaduct. Martin was a businessman from Seaton who ran a design agency in Uppingham. He was married, to Sandra, and they have two sons, who are currently away at university. Martin was known to be a keen runner, and he’d been out running on Monday night, when it’s believed he was murdered. We know from speaking with his wife he owned and wore a fitness watch, which we’ve so far been unable to recover.’

  ‘Potential mugging gone wrong?’ Aidan asked.

  ‘Unlikely. Who mugs a runner? It’s not like they’re carrying valuables. And no-one’s that desperate for a Fitbit. The cause of death is yet to be determined, but first inspection of the body in situ revealed trauma to the back of the head, as well as signs of strangulation, probably with a forearm. Again, more detail to come, but there’s a good chance his killer struck him then strangled him in a headlock. Crucially, there’s a very limited amount of blood at the scene, which is unusual with a head wound like this. This leads us onto the possibility that Martin was killed elsewhere, then transported to the viaduct, but that in itself is confusing because we know Martin’s running route passed by the exact spot where he was found. His body wasn’t visible from the road, and was only discovered when a family out walking found him early this morning. Rather annoyingly, there was quite a bit of rainfall yesterday evening, before the temperature dropped. That means crucial evidence — like blood — is likely to have been washed away.’

  ‘Not from the location where his body was found, though,’ Dexter added.

  ‘Indeed. Even with the rainfall we had, there’s no way it would’ve washed the walls of the arches free of blood. There’s still a lot we don’t know at this stage, but we visited his business premises and spoke to his Operations and Finance Manager, a woman called Monique Dupont. She mentioned that he was generally a fairly likeable chap, but that he’d recently had an argument in the office with a woman called Amie Tanner, one of their designers. It’s probably nothing, but we’re following it up anyway. Sara, did you have any luck researching Allure Design? Was Martin the sole director?’

  Sara Henshaw shook her head. ‘No, his wife is also listed. As I understand it, the company remains active and passes to her.’

  ‘Alright. Interesting. Pretty much what I expected, though, and doesn’t necessarily mean anything. We’ve also managed to get hold of Allure’s IT manager, Tom Mackintosh, but he’s away in Scotland on holiday. He’s due back late tonight, so he’s going to help us access the company’s emails and systems tomorrow. It’s a tenuous lead at best, so it didn’t seem worth us barging in and seizing the lot, especially as the company’s still operating.

  ‘Amie Tanner’s currently working from home as she’s got two kids, but her husband’s got the day off today, so she’s agreed to come in for a voluntary interview. Didn’t want us round there with the kids about, which is fine by me. Saves us going out in this weather again. Dex and I will speak to her when she arrives. In the meantime, we need to look further into Martin. There’s a team searching his home as we speak, and another looking for evidence at and near the scene. Fingers crossed the rain was kind to us. Sara, can I leave you in charge of looking into Martin? And Aidan, can you see if there are any houses, business premises or anything anywhere on Martin Forbes’s running route which might have CCTV? I think our best bet’s likely to be the George and Dragon pub in Seaton, but it’d be handy to do a walk round checking residentials as well as anything else we’ve missed on the route.’

  ‘Yep, got it,’ Aidan said. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Just one thing,’ Caroline replied. ‘Take your woolly hat.’

  8

  The call came in from the front desk to let Caroline know Amie Tanner had arrived for her voluntary interview. It’d be a good opportunity to find out more about Martin and the sort of person he was. Although they didn’t yet have much to go on, it was often the case that you could get two very different impressions of the same person by speaking to two different acquaintances. Caroline’s maxim was Know the victim, and that had proven far more useful to her than any other tip or strategy she’d picked up in her years of policing. In the overwhelming majority of cases, people were killed because of who they were or what they’d done. If you managed to get to the bottom of who the victim was and what they’d been up to, you were — more often than not — mere inches from identifying their killer.

  Caroline and Dexter made their way down to the interview room, where Amie Tanner was waiting for them. She seemed quiet — calm, but confident — and gave a slight smile from the side of her mouth as they entered the room.

  ‘Amie?’ Caroline asked.

  ‘Yes. Hi.’

  ‘I’m Detective Inspector Caroline Hills. This is my colleague, Detective Sergeant Dexter Antoine. Thank you for coming in to see us today. Do you live locally?’

  ‘Market Overton.’

  Caroline nodded. Amie was clearly a woman of few words. ‘Can we get you a drink or anything?’

  ‘No, I’m fine thanks.’

  ‘Okay. Shall we get started, then?’

  Amie nodded.

  ‘So you know by now that Martin Forbes was found dead this morning. He was your boss, is that correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what was he like? As a person, I mean.’

  Amie sighed. ‘Well, he was alright. Friendly, I guess.’

  Caroline got the distinct impression Amie would rather be anywhere else than here. ‘Have you been working there long?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah, years.’

  ‘And have you always got along well with him?’

  ‘Pretty much.’

  ‘Pretty much?’ Caroline asked, starting to get more than a little annoyed wit
h Amie’s brevity. She understood this wasn’t the most natural way to spend one’s day, but she’d expected a little more cooperation. On the contrary, Amie’s terseness was beginning to strike Caroline as a little suspicious.

  Almost as if she’d clocked on to this, Amie shifted in her chair and began to speak. ‘Well, we had a bit of a disagreement last week. I’m guessing that’s why you’ve asked me to come in here. And why you’re asking about how we got on.’

  Caroline really didn’t know how to process Amie. Although she didn’t like to generalise or put people in boxes, it was generally true to say there were certain “types” which applied to most people she came across in the job. But none of them seemed to quite fit when it came to Amie Tanner. Her paucity with words might’ve left Caroline with the impression Amie was shy, but there was a definite confidence about her. It wasn’t coldness, either. Try as she might, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  ‘What was the disagreement about?’ Caroline asked.

  ‘Just a work project,’ Amie said, sighing and easing back into her chair. ‘I thought we were going in the wrong direction with it. Martin disagreed.’

  ‘I see. Did you fall out often?’

  ‘No, not really. It’s just the way it goes sometimes. Clients hire us to do the work, pay through the nose for our expertise, then tell us they think we’re doing it wrong and try to tell us a different way of doing things.’

  ‘And Martin backed them up?’

  Amie shrugged. ‘He’s all about following the money. I can see his point — it’s a business. But it’s a design agency too, and if we put out crap designs to please one client, we’ll easily do ourselves out of another ten.’

  ‘Makes sense to me. Was it quite a noisy disagreement, then?’

  ‘Probably. It’s not the first time, so I imagine a few frustrations boiled over.’ Amie looked at them, seemingly registering that Caroline and Dexter knew a little more than they were letting on. ‘I mean, I got a few funny looks from the others when I came out of his office, so I’m guessing most people probably overheard it and would’ve said it was loud.’

 

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