Killer Plan (18 page)

47

Geraldine did her best
to dismiss her suspicions about Nick’s widow. Her own liaison with Nick would probably never have amounted to anything more than a brief fling. Yet without his wife standing in the way, their affair might have developed into a significant relationship. Her personal resentment towards the woman who had stood between them was bound to affect her judgement, however hard she tried to remain objective.

Reg leaned forward across his desk, staring mournfully back at her.

‘I’ve met her before, several times,’ he said. ‘Only briefly, mind, and I never really spoke to her. She seemed a quiet sort, happy to sit back and let others do the talking. On reflection, I suppose she seemed a bit withdrawn, but I never really thought about it before.’ He sighed. ‘What did you make of her?’

Geraldine hesitated. Despite her decision to keep quiet, her resolve wavered when Reg asked her outright for her impression of Eve.

‘Well, she does seem very quiet,’ she agreed. ‘It could just be that she’s in shock, after what’s happened. I mean I’ve only just met her. I don’t know what she’s usually like. What she was like before all this?’

It was hard to put into words what had happened to Nick.

Reg scowled. ‘Don’t beat about the bush, Geraldine. What do you think of her? Women’s intuition and all that.’ When Geraldine hesitated, he pressed her. ‘Do you think she could know more than she’s letting on?’

Neither of them mentioned Nick’s reputation for womanising, but they both knew it could be a motive for hatred, and possibly even murder.

Geraldine admitted that she didn’t know what to make of Eve. ‘But she stands to gain a lot financially from his death. I’ll check out her alibi.’

‘Good. Hopefully we can eliminate her straight away. And if we can’t... so, first the alibi.’

‘Right away, sir.’

Eve had claimed she had gone to an old people’s home to visit her aunt on the afternoon of Nick’s murder. It should be relatively straightforward to discover whether she was telling the truth. Admittedly she had been in the company of an aunt who was in her nineties, but the old people’s home would have a record of the time of her visit. This was an important point to establish, so Geraldine decided to drive out to the home herself. She went alone. The home was located in the leafy suburb of Pinner, about half an hour’s drive from Nick and Eve’s house.

The well turned-out manager looked up with a bright smile. She asked whether Geraldine had made an appointment to visit the home, or if she was there to visit one of the residents. She nodded, unworried, when Geraldine explained her enquiry. She didn’t seem at all curious about why Geraldine wanted to see Eve’s aunt.

‘Jane Arkwright, yes she’s here. Her niece did come to visit. Not often, but she came here sometimes. You can ask Jane about her niece. She knows who she is. She’s physically very frail, but she’s still got all her marbles. I’ll take you along to see her. She’s probably in her room. She hardly ever leaves it any more.’

Geraldine followed the manager along a quiet corridor. Nearby she could hear the muffled drone of a television. Apart from that, there was no sound in the building. The manager tapped on one of the doors and opened it without waiting for a response.

‘Mrs Arkwright? I have a visitor for you.’

Geraldine followed the young woman into the room. Its occupant was sitting in an armchair beside the bed, her slippered feet resting on a footstool. She was gazing at the window, seemingly watching clouds scudding across the sky. The manager called her name without eliciting any response. She called out more loudly, whispering to Geraldine that Jane was a little hard of hearing. This time the old lady turned and looked at them with a vague smile.

‘Hello,’ she replied in a voice that quavered softly.

Geraldine introduced herself.

‘Oh dear, the police, you’ve caught up with me at last have you?’ Mrs Arkwright chuckled. ‘How can I help you?’ she added more seriously.

She confirmed that Eve Williams was her niece. ‘Eve Browning she was, my sister’s niece really, not mine, but she’s the only family I have living in London now.’ She sighed. ‘My daughter’s in Leicester. She comes to see me every month. She’s a good girl.’

The manager returned to her office.

‘You know where I am if you need me,’ she said as she left.

The old lady was keen to talk, but she was too confused to be much help. She confirmed that her niece visited her from time to time.

‘She’s a good girl.’

‘Did she come and see you on Monday evening?’

‘Monday?’

‘Yes. Today’s Friday. We think Eve came to see you on Monday, four nights ago, earlier on this week. Is that right?’

Mrs Arkwright leaned forward. Reaching out, she placed one gnarled hand on Geraldine’s arm.

‘Has something happened to Evie?’

Geraldine hastened to reassure her that her niece was fine.

‘Is she in trouble?’ Mrs Arkwright smiled vaguely.

‘No.’ Geraldine refrained from explaining the reason for her visit, and repeated her question.

‘Oh dear,’ the old lady said, ‘I’m not very good with days, dear. In this place, one day’s much the same as another.’ Still smiling, she gave a helpless shrug. ‘My niece Evie visits me.’

Eve’s aunt couldn’t give her any more help so she went back to the entry hall and questioned the receptionist. She too confirmed that Mrs Arkwright’s niece had been to visit her recently.

‘Was she here on Monday?’

‘Just a minute,’ the girl said. ‘I’ll check the book. We ask visitors to sign in. Oh,’ she broke off, flustered. ‘I never asked you to sign in, did I? I thought, with you being a police officer, it would be OK to let you in, and I didn’t think.’ She glanced around and lowered her voice. ‘You won’t tell anyone, will you?’

‘Don’t worry,’ Geraldine reassured her. ‘I won’t tell. Now, about Monday evening. Can you confirm if Mrs Arkwright’s niece was here?’

The girl nodded. Opening a large book that was lying on the desk, she checked it.

‘Monday evening, yes. Here it is. Eve Williams, visiting Jane Arkwright.’

‘Can you tell me the time of her visit?’

‘Yes. She signed in at seven thirty, that’s after the residents have their evening meal, and she left at nine when we lock up for the night.’

‘Thank you.’

It seemed Eve was in the clear. They were no closer to discovering who had killed Nick.

48

Geraldine had thrown out the sheets that had been on her bed when Nick had stayed with her. She couldn’t bear to use them again. Paranoid that samples of both their DNA might be discovered, she had been tempted to burn them, but wasn’t sure where to do it without attracting attention. Instead she had to be satisfied with washing the sheets at a high temperature, stuffing them into a large black bag and disposing of them in an outside waste bin. She felt like a criminal. The following day she had watched the contents of the bin chewed up in a large waste disposal lorry. It was not so easy to get rid of her memories. The only way she could try to stop thinking about Nick was by filling her mind with work, but sitting at her desk she saw his empty chair every time she looked up.

To get out of her office, she went to see Max who was cross referencing villains recently released from prison against those whose cases Nick had investigated, searching for a known killer who might have hated Nick enough to kill him.

Max looked up and gave her a weary smile. ‘Here’s the list.’

He had a team of constables laboriously checking through every villain recently released from prison. Once they finished, they were going to look at those still behind bars who might have friends or family seeking revenge. It was a long shot, but someone had wanted him dead. So far they had drawn a blank. In all but one of Nick’s cases, the killer was either still in prison, or dead. Geraldine herself went to interview the one possible suspect. He was an allegedly reformed murderer Nick had put behind bars.

Cameron Drew was in a hospice, suffering from terminal cancer. A softly spoken nurse took Geraldine to a conservatory which looked out on a well-tended garden at the back of the building. There were several patients sitting in cushioned wicker chairs, dozing, gazing out of the window, or reading. They all glanced up as she walked in with the nurse. Their eyes slid past her. She wasn’t there for them. The nurse led her to a frail bald man seated in a corner near the French window. The nurse touched him gently on the shoulder and he looked up with a slight smile, removing his headphones. There was a wonderful air of serenity in the room. Geraldine wished she didn’t have to break the silence, but she had a job to do.

The nurse hovered protectively as Geraldine sat down. Leaning forward and speaking in a low voice, she introduced herself. If he was disturbed by her intrusion, he didn’t show it by so much as a flicker of an eye but continued smiling amiably.

‘What do you want with me?’ he asked evenly. ‘I’ve served my time in the nick. And I won’t be leaving here alive, if that’s what you want to know.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why? What’s it to you?’

He was going through the motions of responding to her, but his dull eyes looked through her as though she didn’t exist.

‘Do you remember DI Nick Williams?’

The name brought a flush of pink to his pale cheeks. Behind her, Geraldine heard the nurse stir.

‘Inspector…’ she said, but her patient waved his skeletal hand feebly.

‘It’s OK,’ he muttered. He turned to Geraldine. There was a flash of animation in his eyes. ‘I should bloody well think I do remember him. He’s the bastard had me put away for twelve years. And then I came out to this.’ He raised his hand as though to wave it again, but let it drop back into his lap.

‘DI Williams is dead.’

‘Good riddance.’

‘He was murdered.’

‘Oh bloody hell. You’re not saying you think I had anything to do with it, are you? For Christ’s sake, woman, look at me.’ He scowled. ‘When did it happen?’

‘On Monday night.’

‘Monday just gone?’

‘Yes.’

‘What day is it today?’

‘It’s Saturday.’

He gave a hollow laugh. ‘Do I look like I could overpower another man? I can’t even hold myself upright.’

‘Can you think of anyone who might have had a grudge against him?’

‘Apart from me, you mean?’ He shrugged. ‘I’m sure there are enough of us, but I wouldn’t give you any names, even if I could.’ He turned away. ‘Fuck off and leave me alone, will you? And next time you want to go pestering a dying man, do your homework first. You could’ve asked anyone here. Ask her, go on.’ He looked up at the nurse. ‘Ask her where I was on Monday. Where I’ve been since I left the hospital. She’ll tell you. Anyone’ll tell you.’

He leaned back in his chair, exhausted by his momentary anger.

‘Inspector, I think you should leave,’ the nurse said firmly. ‘Come along, please.’

As soon as they left the conservatory, Geraldine put the question. ‘I’m sorry, but this is a murder investigation. I have to ask. Was he definitely here on Monday evening? He couldn’t have slipped out unnoticed?’

‘Inspector, he can’t get out of his chair unaided,’ the nurse replied. ‘He certainly couldn’t walk out of the building on his own two feet. He’s far too weak.’

‘I hate to press you on this, but there’s no possibility he could be stronger than he appears, is there?’

The nurse turned to her. ‘Inspector, Cameron’s dying. Can I make it any plainer? I told you, he can’t stand up by himself.’

‘Well, I hope you understand I had to be sure. I’m just doing my job, thinking about another man who’s died. It’s very peaceful here,’ she added as she said goodbye to the nurse. ‘No one would suspect they were all dying.’

‘We’re all waiting for death in our own way,’ the nurse replied gently.

49

‘We’ve got an interesting
development,’ a constable called out to Geraldine when she returned to the police station, thoroughly dispirited.

Going over to see what he had found, she recognised the name straight away. Stacey Rawlings, Greg’s girlfriend, had been accused by two boyfriends of causing them actual bodily harm.

‘She’s a nasty piece of work,’ the constable said. ‘You met her, didn’t you? Vicious little cow according to this report. Look at that photo. Poor bastard. He should have restrained her.’

Geraldine nodded, remembering the girl’s hostility. Although Stacey was a skinny little woman, Geraldine wasn’t surprised to discover that she was inclined to be violent. It suggested an interpretation of Greg’s injuries they had not previously considered.

‘So it looks as though he’s the victim of a violent partner,’ she told Max, who raised his eyebrows.

‘A man who lets himself get beaten up by a woman has to have a few screws loose,’ he said. ‘I mean, surely he could overpower her if he wanted to?’

‘There’s nothing to suggest he’s a violent man. Quite the opposite, I’d say. And a man who puts up with being assaulted by his girlfriend is hardly likely to go and physically attack another man, is he?’

‘Unless he takes his aggression out on other people because he can’t, or won’t, take it out on her.’

It was possible, but Geraldine was convinced her earlier suspicion had been justified. The man they had in custody for the murder of Dave Robinson was innocent.

Reg looked up and smiled grimly when he saw her at his door.

‘Ah, Geraldine. About time. I was about to call on you and ask you how you got on. You went to see the man Nick put away – Cameron Drew, was it? I’ve checked with the prison governor and he’s been out for nearly a year. That’s more than enough time to track down the man who put him away and…’

‘According to his medical records, Cameron Drew couldn’t possibly have done it.’

‘What do you mean, his medical records?’

‘He’s terminally ill. He can barely walk. There’s no way he could have done it.’

‘I see.’

Geraldine hesitated.

‘Yes? What is it?’

‘Well, there is something else, sir.’

Reg raised his eyebrows at her. She still sometimes fell into her former habit of calling senior officers ‘Sir’, although it was all first name terms on the Met.

‘It’s to do with the Robinson case.’

‘Oh yes? I thought we had that one tied up.’

‘Yes, we all thought that, but I’m not sure we’ve got the right man.’

‘Greg Hawkins?’

‘Yes, sir – Reg. I don’t think he did it.’

Reg gave one of his exaggerated sighs. ‘Well, are you going to find the man who did it then, Geraldine?’ he added, his tone unexpectedly gentle. ‘If you’d rather not work on Nick’s case, that’s perfectly all right. It can be difficult…’

‘No, it’s not that at all. I don’t want to be taken off that case. I want to work on it, really I do. I need to, for myself as much as for Nick.’

‘Good. I’d like to think I’ve still got my best officer on it.’

His compliment took her by surprise. She hoped her feelings didn’t show on her face. She found Reg patronising, and had always believed he looked down on her both as a woman and as an officer used to working in the Home Counties. Meanwhile Reg carried on, apparently unaware of her reaction.

‘OK then, so what’s the problem with Greg Hawkins? He was in an argument with the victim the day before his murder, wasn’t he? I know it doesn’t place him at the scene, but we have a witness, and his injuries bear out the statement.’

‘Well, we thought so, but there’s a problem.’

‘Go on.’

‘First of all, the witness retracted. He said he did see them quarrelling, but the fight wasn’t a physical one. He saw the victim throw a punch at the suspect who didn’t respond but backed away. He issued verbal threats to the victim, but that’s all we have. Greg didn’t explicitly threaten violence. He just said, “This isn’t over.” That’s all.’

‘What about Greg’s injuries? Even if the witness didn’t see them fighting, we all saw his face. He’d been in a fight all right.’

‘I think he might not have received those injuries in a fight. His girlfriend’s been had up twice for ABH after she assaulted two previous boyfriends.’

‘Oh shit.’

‘Even if he did it, we’ll never make it stick, not with what we’ve got.’

Reg shook his head. ‘No, you’re right. Let him go for now. But warn him not to go anywhere. And for Christ’s sake, let’s get some real evidence and put Dave Robinson’s killer away for good next time.’

Reg had told her to find Dave Robinson’s killer, and she was determined to do just that. It was a good way of distracting herself from thinking about Nick. There was nothing she could do to help the investigation into his death. Teams of uniformed officers were out questioning possible witnesses. An entire forensic laboratory had been assigned to the case. All Geraldine could do for now was wait. In the meantime, she was going to review all the statements connected to Dave Robinson’s death.

It was too late to release Greg that night. First thing in the morning she would send him on his way. After that she would contact social services as a matter of urgency and alert them to the situation. Greg was at risk, and Stacey desperately needed help. The likelihood was that Greg would strenuously deny Stacey’s violent abuse. The social worker sent to investigate would be too overworked to pursue the case. Making her report as forcefully as she could, Geraldine was aware that she would be powerless to influence what happened. There was a tragic inevitability about the course of events in Stacey’s household. Yet with even a slim chance that her report might make a difference, she would persist. Without Geraldine’s intervention, there was no chance for Greg and Stacey. With it, they might be offered the support they needed. Geraldine had to do whatever she could to trigger the process.

She worked late into the night, but made no headway with the investigation into Dave’s murder. Every time she looked up from her files, she saw Nick’s desk and his empty chair. Soon someone else would come and sit there. That would be hard enough. It would be unbearable if Nick was replaced before his killer was caught.