A Killing Resurrected (37 page)

‘But why do you want to know about that?' Amy persisted.

‘Perhaps we can deal with that later,' said Tregalles. ‘Do you remember the call?'

‘Not the call itself, but John told me he'd had a call from an old friend who was in town for a short time, and he was going to meet him for a drink later that night.' Amy Chadwell's voice was strangely flat.

‘Did he tell you the friend's name?' Tregalles persisted.

‘No, he just said a friend had called.'

‘You say your husband said he was going to meet
him
for a drink. Is that right, Mrs Chadwell?'

She nodded, but remained silent.

‘Which wasn't true, was it?' Tregalles said gently, ‘because it was a woman who rang him that morning. But then, I think you knew that, didn't you, Mrs Chadwell? Did you know, or at least suspect, who the caller was?'

Amy looked down at her hands and shook her head. ‘As you say,' she said in a voice barely above a whisper, ‘I thought it might be a woman, but I had no idea who she was.'

‘So this sort of thing has happened before?'

Amy raised her head. ‘Yes, if you must know,' she said defiantly, ‘but I don't know why it is any of your business. Why are you asking all these questions?'

‘I'm asking these questions because the woman who made that call and arranged to meet your husband was severely beaten shortly before she was to have met him in a local pub. She was left unconscious on her kitchen floor, and wasn't found until the following morning. She was rushed to hospital, but it's only by the grace of God she's still alive.'

What little colour there had been in Amy Chadwell's face drained away. ‘You're surely not suggesting that John had anything to do with that?' she said. Her voice was strained and she had trouble getting the words out.

‘I'm not suggesting anything,' Tregalles told her. ‘But I am trying to piece together the movements of anyone who might have been in contact with this woman. Do you happen to remember what time your husband left the house that night?'

‘Just before ten,' she said quickly. ‘I remember that distinctly because I go to bed at ten, but John usually stays up and watches television till midnight, but that night I switched it off before going to bed, because John had left by then. And he was back here again before midnight.' Amy looked pleased with herself. No doubt she thought she was proving their suspicions false, thought Molly, while in fact she might have just tightened the noose around her husband's neck.

‘And he was extremely annoyed,' Amy continued, ‘because the person he'd gone to meet hadn't turned up, and they hadn't so much as sent a message to say they couldn't be there, so the whole thing was a wasted journey. So, if this woman was attacked in her home, I don't see how you can think John had anything to do with it or why she's saying that he did. Who is this woman anyway?'

‘Sorry, but we're not at liberty to tell you that,' Tregalles said. ‘Although I can tell you that she was someone your husband knew quite well some years ago.'

‘Well, I'm sure she's wrong, and there's been some terrible mistake. What possible reason would John have for doing such a thing anyway?'

‘Perhaps because the woman was attempting to blackmail him,' Tregalles said. ‘Threatening to expose him.' The words were spoken quietly, but their impact on Amy Chadwell was clearly visible.

‘Blackmail?' she said with an effort. ‘Oh, no. No, you must be mistaken. I can't believe that. John of all people would never stand for anything like that. He would have gone straight to the police and have them deal with it.'

‘Unless the blackmailer's allegations were true.'

‘Allegations . . .?' Amy drew a deep breath to steady herself before attempting to speak again. ‘What allegations?' she asked faintly.

‘That your husband belonged to a gang that took part in several robberies and a double murder thirteen years ago,' Tregalles said bluntly.

Amy swallowed noisily several times before she was able to speak. ‘I can't believe you're saying this,' she said faintly. ‘I don't know where you are getting your information from, but it's completely—'

‘From the woman herself,' Tregalles cut in, ‘and your husband confirmed that she did ask him for money when we spoke to him earlier today. He denied attacking her, of course, but it seems more than a coincidence to me that the woman, who had asked him for money in the morning, was beaten and left for dead later that same evening.'

He leaned forward. ‘So tell me, Mrs Chadwell,' he said, ‘does this
really
come as a surprise to you? You knew, or at least suspected, that your husband was lying when he referred to his “old friend” as a man, and this wasn't the first time he had done this sort of thing, was it? Yet you didn't challenge him? You didn't object?'

Tregalles settled back in his chair. ‘So what did you do, Mrs Chadwell?' he asked softly. ‘Go quietly off to bed while your husband went off to see this woman? Or did you follow him to the house where this woman lived, and watch from a distance while he went in and—'

‘No!' Amy Chadwell was shaking her head violently from side to side. ‘That's not true! None of it is true. I never left the house, and John wouldn't . . . He couldn't . . . He didn't even meet her because she didn't turn up. He told me she didn't turn up when he came home. He said—'

‘She . . .?' Tregalles broke in quickly. ‘He
told
you at that point it was a woman he'd gone to meet?'

‘No, no, you're confusing me,' Amy said desperately. ‘He didn't
say
it was a woman. He said his
friend
hadn't turned up, and he was annoyed because he hadn't so much as tried to contact him at the pub to let John know he wouldn't be coming.'

‘And you weren't even curious enough to challenge the fiction that the friend was a man? I must say I find that hard to believe.'

‘Well, it's true. As I said, John was annoyed and he was tired . . .'

‘And it doesn't pay to ask questions when John's annoyed,' Tregalles said quietly. ‘Isn't that right, Mrs Chadwell?'

Amy refused to look at him. ‘I want you to leave,' she said shakily. ‘I don't have to listen to this, so please go and leave me alone.'

The two detectives got to their feet, but Molly paused to look out of the window. ‘Is that your car out there in the street, Mrs Chadwell?' she asked.

Amy eyed her suspiciously, clearly puzzled by the question. ‘The silver Hyundai,' Molly elaborated. ‘Is it yours?'

Amy nodded. ‘Yes, that's mine,' she said cautiously. ‘Why do you want to know?'

‘Just curious,' Molly said as she followed Tregalles to the door. ‘And thank you, Mrs Chadwell. No, please don't get up,' she said quickly as Amy started to rise. ‘We can see ourselves out.'

‘So what was that all about?' Tregalles wanted to know as they got in the car. ‘Looking for a new car, yourself, are you, Molly? Spending that Sergeant's pay ahead of time, are you?'

‘Take a look at the back of her car as we go by,' said Molly. ‘See there? Just above the bumper, driver's side. Isn't that a Welsh flag? And I think you'll find there's a scratch along the side just as Mr Whitfield described.'

The knife slipped out of Amy's nervous fingers and clattered to the floor. She bent swiftly to retrieve it, and found her husband's eyes focused on her when she straightened up.

‘First you burn the potatoes, though God knows how even you can manage to do that,' he said softly. ‘Then you slop the tea, and now you can't even handle a knife? So what's going on, Amy. Tell me, what have you been up to?'

‘Nothing. Honestly, John, it's just the heat. You know how it disorients me, and the kitchen gets so hot with the sun coming in, and with the oven on . . .' She stopped. It was no use. He would sit there staring at her in that way that made her feel so utterly useless and inadequate until she told him. Amy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Better to get it over with now, because it would only be worse if she tried to lie.

T
hey were gathered in front of the whiteboards for the morning briefing: Paget, Ormside, and Molly Forsythe, waiting for Tregalles to finish writing.

He turned to face them. ‘I think that's everything,' he said with a quick look at Molly for confirmation.

‘So,' he continued, ‘if his wife is to be believed, Chadwell lied about the time he left the house after Corbett rang him, which means he had more than enough time to drive Corbett home and drown him in the fish pond. He must have gone back to the Unicorn
after
killing Corbett to ask if anyone had seen him so it would be assumed that he had only just got there from home.'

‘And,' Molly added quickly, ‘he used his wife's car, a Silver Hyundai Santa Fe with a decal of the Welsh flag on the back and a scratch down the side, which matches the description of the vehicle Judge Whitfield saw coming out of the Corbetts' driveway shortly after five o'clock the day Corbett was killed.'

Paget said, ‘Didn't the judge say there was a woman in the car as well? Could that have been Mrs Chadwell?'

Tregalles and Molly looked at each other. ‘I suppose it could have been,' Molly said doubtfully, ‘but she told us her husband had taken her car when he went to see Corbett, and she was afraid he wouldn't have it back before she had to go out. I suppose she could have said that to throw us off, but that wasn't my impression at the time.'

‘It's a possibility,' Tregalles conceded, ‘but I'm with Forsythe on this one. I think Mrs Chadwell was pretty shaken when we told her about the blackmail, and
I also think she's afraid of her husband.'

He turned to scan the boards to refresh his memory. ‘We spoke to Linda Drake, the barmaid at the Green Man,' he continued, ‘and she remembers Chadwell, because he kept trying to chat her up even though he could see she was busy. And she's quite sure it was closer to eleven when she first saw him at the bar. She said she thought there was something odd about him when he first appeared and pushed an empty glass across the bar and asked for the “same again”. She told us she'd been working that end of the bar most of the evening, and she would have remembered if she had served him earlier. But when she asked what he'd been drinking, he said something like, “I suppose it's hard remembering everyone's drinks when it's late and you're rushed off your feet, but never mind, I'll have a whisky instead.”'

Tregalles grinned. ‘That was a big mistake on Chadwell's part,' he explained, ‘because Linda's been in that job a long time and she's proud of her memory for faces and what people drink. She said she would have remembered him if for no other reason than he was new to the pub. She wondered why he'd done that, but she was busy, so she didn't think much more of it. When I asked her if she remembered anything else about him, she said he kept looking at his watch, and he volunteered the information that he was waiting for a friend, then complained about the thoughtlessness of “some people” when his friend failed to show up. He also made a point of mentioning the time when he left.'

‘Sounds like he's a bit heavy-footed,' Ormside observed.

Tregalles nodded. ‘Arrogant with it, too,' he said.

‘So how did he find out where Jessop lived?' Ormside asked. ‘The woman may not be all that bright, but surely to God she didn't tell him where she lived?'

‘She swears she didn't,' Molly said, ‘but she did identify herself, so we thought one way he could have found out was by talking to someone at the Rose and Crown.'

‘So,' Tregalles cut in, ‘we showed Chadwell's picture to Grady and Bridgette, Grady's current live-in girlfriend and barmaid, and Bridgette said she was almost certain it was the same man who had come in around noon that Saturday. She said there was quite a crush at the bar, and they were very busy, but she remembered him saying he hadn't been in the Crown for years, and the last time he was there he'd been served by a very pretty girl, and he wondered what she was doing now. So she told him.

‘He was wearing a jacket and a baseball cap, which she thought a bit odd, because it was like an oven in the bar, and no one else was wearing a jacket.'

Ormside grunted. ‘A bad actor and overdressed for the part,' he said.

‘Maybe,' said Paget,' but
almost
certain isn't good enough, is it? Do we have any confirmation at all? Anyone else hear what was said? Any CCTV cameras in the area?'

‘Sorry, boss, but no,' Tregalles told him. ‘We checked.'

‘Do either of you have anything to add?' Paget looked from Tregalles to Molly and back again.

Tregalles moved away from the boards. ‘I think we should have Chadwell in for further questioning,' he said. ‘In fact I think we should have both him and his wife in, and I think we have enough to get a warrant to examine Mrs Chadwell's car and search the house.'

‘I agree,' said Paget, ‘except we don't have enough evidence to justify a search of the house, so the warrant will be limited to the car.' He held up his hand as Tregalles opened his mouth to object, to say, ‘I'll need a lot more than you've given me to justify a warrant for the house. If Forensic can find evidence that links the car to the Corbett killing in some way, then perhaps we can talk about searching Chadwell's house. Meanwhile, I'll need the details on the car.'

‘I have them,' Molly told him, flipping through the pages of her notebook until she found what she was looking for. She handed the book to Paget, who jotted down the information and handed the notebook back.

‘I don't want them to have a chance to talk to each other before we question them,' he said as he put his own notebook away, ‘so I want Mrs Chadwell brought in first, and let's have some Forensic people there to take her car away at the same time. Her husband can be brought in later, but I don't want either one to know that the other is in the building, nor is Chadwell to be told we're examining his wife's car.'