A Killing Resurrected (36 page)

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Authors: Frank Smith

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BOOK: A Killing Resurrected
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‘Do you remember what time it was when you got to the Green Man?' asked Molly.

‘Ten thirty, give or take five minutes,' Chadwell said. ‘Why? Is it important?'

‘So you were there about an hour. Can anyone verify that?'

‘One of the barmaids certainly can,' Chadwell, said smugly. ‘Chatty little blonde by the name of Linda.'

‘So you won't mind if we ask her if she remembers you?'

Chadwell shrugged. ‘Be my guest,' he said.

Molly eyed Chadwell speculatively. ‘I wonder,' she said hesitantly, ‘if I might take your picture? It's just that it would make it so much simpler than trying to describe you to this Linda, or having you come down to the Green Man yourself.'

The look on Chadwell's face was a mixture of surprise and perplexity. He stared at Molly for a long moment, and she was almost sure he was about to refuse. She'd made the suggestion on the spur of the moment, and by the look on Tregalles's face, she had taken the Sergeant by surprise as well.

‘Why not?' Chadwell said with an airy wave of the hand. ‘I've got nothing to hide.'

Molly delved into the bottom of her voluminous handbag to produce a tiny digital camera. She rose and shuffled her way through the ducks, then turned to face Chadwell to take two head-and-shoulder shots in quick succession. ‘You say you left the Green Man at eleven thirty and went home,' she said as she put the camera away and returned to her seat. ‘Can your wife confirm the time you got home?'

Chadwell's brows came together in a scowl. ‘She could,' he said, ‘but I want her left out of this. All she can tell you is that I went out to have a drink with an old friend, who was in town for a few hours. I mean I was hardly going to tell her I was going to meet a woman I'd slept with a few times in my youth, and who was now trying to blackmail me, was I? So I'd just as soon leave her out of this,
if
you don't mind.'

He began to flatten and fold the paper bag that had contained the bread. ‘Anyway, I presume you have this woman in custody, so what does she have to say for herself?'

‘She says you beat the shit out of her and left her on her kitchen floor to die,' Tregalles said baldly. ‘What do you say to that, Mr Chadwell?'

Chadwell's eyes narrowed. ‘I don't believe you,' he said flatly. ‘All I know is that the woman who phoned me never showed up. Maybe she tried the same scheme on someone else and they decided to teach her a lesson. When was this anyway?'

‘Last Saturday night,' Molly told him. ‘About the time you say you were in the Green Man, which is only a couple of streets over from where she was attacked.'

‘Then it couldn't have been me, could it?' Chadwell said contemptuously. ‘So stop wasting my time and yours and go and look for whoever really did it.'

‘You say you knew this woman years ago, but you don't remember her name. Does Sharon Grady ring a bell?'

Chadwell nodded slowly. ‘That's right,' he said. ‘She still at the pub, is she? I haven't been in the Crown for years.'

‘Probably not since the night of the robbery,' Molly said, goading him.

Chadwell picked up the bag that had contained his own lunch and stood up. ‘Come back and talk to me when you have evidence of that,' he told her. ‘Meanwhile I have work to do, and it seems to me that you have some to do as well if you are to find this person you're looking for. And if you want to talk to me again, I suggest you call my solicitor first. I'm sure he knows how to deal with false allegations and police harassment.'

‘That wouldn't happen to be Kevin Taylor, would it?' Tregalles asked.

‘Why? Is that supposed to be significant?'

‘No. Just curious, that's all, Mr Chadwell. And thank you for your time. I'm sure we'll be talking to you again.'

‘Not if I have anything to do with it,' Chadwell called over his shoulders as he walked away.

‘Fancy an ice cream?' Tregalles asked as they started back towards the car. ‘There's an ice cream van over there, and I think you deserve some sort of reward for sheer bloody cheek, asking for his photograph like that. I couldn't believe it when he said yes.'

Molly grinned. ‘I think he thought we might draw the wrong conclusions if he refused,' she said. ‘Plus the fact that he probably thought he'd humour me because I'm a woman. It might not have worked if you had asked him.'

Tregalles wrinkled his nose. ‘Don't see what that's got to do with it,' he said. ‘Unless you think he fancies you.'

‘I think the only one he fancies is himself,' Molly said. ‘Did you hear what he said about how he might help Sharon out “depending on what she was prepared to do for him”? I think that man has a very low opinion of women. He didn't see me as a threat, so he humoured me. And I don't believe his professed concern for his wife's feelings either. Anyway, now we have his picture, we can use it to see if anyone remembers seeing him near Sharon's house or around the Unicorn the day Corbett was killed.'

‘He is a slippery bastard,' Tregalles agreed once they'd sat down to enjoy their ice creams, ‘and he was ready for us. He was even smart enough to volunteer the information that Jessop was trying to blackmail him, so he must have been aware that she was still alive and talking.

‘But I don't believe that stuff about him waiting in the Green Man for Sharron Jessop because he wanted to see her again. The minute Sharon told him she remembered him as the man who had held her during the robbery at the Rose and Crown, he would see her as a threat that had to be dealt with. There's no way that man would stand for an attempt to blackmail him, especially if what the blackmailer said was true.'

Tregalles shook his head in a bewildered sort of way. ‘Didn't Sharon see that?' he asked rhetorically. ‘I can't believe the woman could be so stupid.'

‘I think it was more a case of desperation than stupidity,' Molly said. ‘Sharon's been beaten down over the years, trying to make ends meet, while her husband robs her of what little she has every chance he gets, and on top of that she loses her job. She simply wasn't thinking, and when Chadwell realized how naive she was, he pretended to want to help her and she fell for it.'

‘I suppose,' Tregalles said without conviction. ‘But I still don't understand why he didn't kill her outright when he had the chance.'

‘Perhaps he thought he had. The problem we have now is, how are we going to
prove
it was Chadwell who beat her up?'

‘I don't know,' Tregalles said, ‘but your mentioning his attitude towards women reminds me I never did get round to talking to his wife after I saw him in his office the other day. He tried to put me off talking to her then, much the same as he did today, so let's see if she's in.'

The Sergeant consulted his notebook, then dialled a number on his mobile phone and waited. ‘Oh, sorry,' he mumbled gruffly, when a woman answered. ‘Must have dialled the wrong number. Sorry to have troubled you.'

‘She's home,' he told Molly as he closed the phone, ‘but I didn't want to tell her we were coming in case she decided to alert Chadwell, and I don't want him around when we talk to her.'

TWENTY-EIGHT

M
olly's first impression of Amy Chadwell was of someone who had just got out of bed. She wore no make-up, her hair was frizzy, and her slim body was draped in a shapeless short-sleeved dress that could almost be mistaken for a nightgown.

‘Sorry to call on you at lunchtime,' Tregalles said, ‘but we happened to be in the area and thought we'd take a chance. Do you mind? Just a few questions. It won't take long.'

‘No . . . no, it's all right,' Amy said hesitantly. Her slender fingers fluttered to her neck, touched her face, touched her hair as if to assure herself that she looked all right before opening the door wider for them to enter. ‘In fact I don't have a set time for meals during the holidays,' she explained. She lowered her voice as if afraid of being overheard. ‘Except for dinner, of course,' she confided. ‘John is such a creature of habit, and he does like his dinner on time.'

‘You're a teacher?' Molly said as Amy Chadwell led the way into the front room and turned to face them. ‘Primary school, is it? What ages do you teach?' Molly knew the answers to her questions, because she'd read the background material on John Chadwell and his wife, but felt a few non-threatening questions might help put the woman at ease.

‘That's right.' The lines around Amy's mouth softened. ‘I get them when they're first starting school,' she said. ‘Four- and five-year-olds. They're such a delight at that age, and so eager to learn. Do you have children, Miss . . . er . . . I'm sorry, Detective Constable . . .?'

Molly smiled. ‘Constable Forsythe,' she said, ‘and, no, I don't have children.'

Amy looked away. ‘Nor do we,' she said wistfully. ‘But then, as John says, with both of us working full time it would hardly be fair, and he's right, of course.'

Tregalles cleared his throat. ‘If I may . . .?' he began.

He was interrupted by Amy saying, ‘Would you like tea?'

‘That's very kind of you, Mrs Chadwell,' Molly said quickly before Tregalles could speak, ‘but we won't be here long, so thank you, but no. May we sit down?'

‘Oh! Oh dear, yes, of course. I'm sorry . . . I should have . . . Yes, please do sit down.' Amy indicated well-worn armchairs on either side of the bay window that overlooked the street. She waited until they were settled, then sat down facing them, hands clasped tightly around her knees.

‘This is about poor Roger, isn't it?' she said. ‘Yes, yes, of course, it must be. John told me a detective had been to see him in his office, but I never expected anyone to . . . I mean all I did was answer the phone; John was the one Roger wanted to talk to, and I could barely make out what Roger was saying anyway. John went down to the Unicorn to try to help Roger, but he was gone by the time John got there. He did try to get hold of Kevin, but he couldn't, so he went down there himself, and that's about all I can tell you,' she ended breathlessly.

‘Why, exactly, was Mr Chadwell trying to contact Kevin Taylor?' Tregalles asked.

Amy shifted uncomfortably in her chair. ‘Perhaps I shouldn't be telling you this,' she said guiltily, ‘but, to be honest, John never cared much for Roger.' She laughed nervously. ‘Couldn't stand the man if truth be told – with good reason,' she added hastily, ‘because Roger could be quite . . . quite difficult at times. But Kevin has always looked out for Roger, so John thought it would be best to have Kevin talk to him.'

Molly said, ‘Do you happen to remember what time the call came in, Mrs Chadwell?'

‘When Roger called? Oh, yes. It was a few minutes after four. Five past, perhaps? John came home early that day. He had some work to do before the council meeting that night, and he'd said he would be home by four, and he'd just come in when Roger phoned. John is always punctual.'

‘I know you said it was hard to understand Mr Corbett, but did he say
why
he was in such a state?'

Amy frowned in concentration. ‘It sounded to me as if he was saying something like “everything is coming apart”,' she said slowly. ‘But John said I must have been mistaken; he said it was nothing like that, so I was probably mistaken. Roger was slurring his words quite badly.'

‘Anything else you remember?'

‘No. I turned the phone over to John at that point.'

‘You say your husband had a council meeting that evening,' Tregalles said.

Amy grimaced. ‘That's what made him so annoyed,' she said. ‘He'd brought work home to prepare for the meeting, and it upset him to have to leave it to go into town. And he really did try hard to find Roger, because he was gone a long time, and barely had time to eat his dinner when he got back before he had to go back into town for the meeting. Upsetting for both of us, actually, because he went off in such a hurry that he took my car instead of his own, since it was already in the street and his was in the garage, and I was beginning to think he wouldn't be back in time for me to go to the end-of-term party at the school, and I didn't want to miss that. The teachers and staff usually get together for a bit of a do to celebrate the end of the school year,' she explained.

Tregalles looked puzzled. ‘I don't understand,' he said. ‘You say Mr Chadwell's car was in the garage, and yet you told us he'd just come home?'

‘Oh, he always does that,' Amy said. ‘John doesn't like to leave it out in the hot sun because it does something to the finish, so he puts it in the garage as soon as he gets home.'

While yours sits out in the blazing sun, thought Molly as she and Tregalles exchanged glances. ‘Just to make sure I have the times right,' she said, making a show of writing something in her notebook, ‘would it be fair to say that Mr Chadwell left within ten or fifteen minutes of taking the call from Mr Corbett?'

Amy frowned into the distance. ‘Oh, yes,' she said firmly. ‘As I said, he had hoped to get Kevin to go, but since Kevin wasn't around, Stephanie talked John into going himself.' For the first time since they'd arrived, Amy smiled. It was a secretive sort of smile, and she sounded almost pleased as she said, ‘John tried to persuade Stephanie to go instead, but she wasn't having any, and I don't blame her. Roger could be quite a handful when he was drunk.'

‘I'd like to ask you about another phone call your husband received,' Tregalles said. ‘Last Saturday morning.'

Amy Chadwell's eyes underwent a subtle change. ‘Last Saturday?' she repeated vaguely. ‘What does that have to do with poor Roger?'

‘Perhaps nothing,' Tregalles told her, ‘but it is of interest to us. Mr Chadwell received a call from an old friend, I believe . . .?'

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