Body Line (11 page)

‘How did you open the subject?’

‘Oh, I didn’t need to. It turned out she had an Irish granny from Clare, and I let on my granddad was from the same place—’

‘That’s a coincidence.’

‘Well, he wasn’t. He was from Raheny, but what did she know? Anyway, after that she felt we were practically cousins, and it didn’t matter what I asked, she’d tell me, no charge. Janey, she was a babbling brook! But she knew all about the Friths and the Sturgesses.’

There’d been Friths in Sarratt since Moses was a lad, it turned out. The Sturgesses were comparative newcomers, arriving in the eighteenth century, but they were very well thought of. The Friths were farmers; the Sturgesses had private money, and as well as patronage had supplied two rectors over the period, and had built the village hall. The Knox bit had only recently arrived: Amanda’s mother had been a Knox and had wanted it tacked on, but local people sturdily rejected that piece of showmanship and refused to use more than Sturgess – which was perhaps why Amanda had reverted after the divorce.

Maureen had attended the local school with both Robin and Amanda, through infant and primary stages. After that she had gone to the local secondary, Amanda had gone private to St Mary’s girls’ school, and Robin had gone to Sarratt Grammar for Boys; but they’d still met up after school, at various local do’s and friends’ parties. As they grew older the social differences between them made themselves apparent: Robin’s family were well-to-do, Amanda’s a cut above that. Maureen’s father was only a shopkeeper, so she gradually drifted into her own set, and she left school at sixteen while the other two went on to the sixth form. But they all remained friendly, on village terms, and Maureen was witness to how things panned out.

‘She said it was always Robin and Amanda,’ Connolly told Slider, ‘from the nursery up. They did everything together. Everyone thought they would get married when they grew up. Well, these childhood romances don’t often work out, but the two of them just seemed to get closer. Then apparently when they were sixth form age, Robin threw a spanner in the works, saying he wanted to work with horses. Well, he’d always ridden – so had she – but to her it was just a hobby. She said he was an eejit – he’d never make any money at it, it was a waste of his brains. He said it was all he’d ever wanted. Eventually they had a big row about it. Maureen said Amanda gave out it was a menial job, working with animals, and he was better than that, and he took offence because his family were farmers and he thought she was looking down on them. So it was the big split, and she went off to university, while he went to do a horse management course at this posh residential place in Sussex.’

‘She said she went to Edinburgh to get as far away from her family as possible,’ Slider said. ‘But this story makes sense of that, too. And it would mean she was vulnerable to Rogers when she met him there.’

‘On the rebound?’ Connolly said. ‘Right. And him having the ambition to be a doctor – she’d have approved of that.’

‘What did Robin’s parents think about his career?’

‘They didn’t mind. There was another son, the older boy, to take over the farm, so Robin had to fare for himself somehow, and wanting to work with animals seemed normal to them. Maureen said she’d always though he’d become a vet, because he was so good with animals – could do anything with them, dogs never bit him and so on – but he just wanted to ride and train horses. Well, by the time Amanda came back from university, he’d got himself taken on at this stables in Chipperfield – which was quite a high-powered establishment from what Maureen said – and was competing and winning cups and all that carry-on, so he was happy enough. But your woman didn’t see it that way.’

‘I was under the impression that Amanda came back from Edinburgh already committed to Rogers,’ Slider said. ‘In love and wanting to marry, only the parents disapproved.’

‘Yes, sir, I read your notes. But Maureen tells a different story. She says Amanda came back with the doctor in tow all right, but she still wanted to take up with Robin again. Rogers was a fallback, just in case. She tried to get Robin to stop messing about with horses and better himself, but he wouldn’t. Maureen says he’s one of these quiet types that you think are a pushover but they’re stubborn as a donkey when they make their mind up. And in the end he wouldn’t do what she wanted, while the doctor did get on, so she married him instead.’

‘That sounds rather cold and calculating,’ Slider commented.

‘Well, sir, we’ve only Maureen’s word for it that it was that way, but the facts fit. And then she and Rogers buy a house in Chipperfield – that’s another one. And here’s the really interesting bit: she gets divorced, and no sooner does the Dirty Doctor move out, but your woman puts up the money for Robin to buy Hillbrow and get it in order.’

‘Ah, so she
was
the secret benefactor,’ Slider said. ‘You could have mentioned that when the subject first arose.’

‘And spoil the story?’ Connolly protested. ‘Isn’t it better this way? Anyway, the benefaction – is that the word? – is supposed to be secret, which is why she doesn’t appear on the website or the stationery. But of course Maureen knows the protagonists. In fact, given it’s a village, I should think everyone in Sarratt knows the secret. It’s probably only outsiders like the employees who’re kept in the dark.’

‘Does Maureen know Robin’s living with Amanda?’

‘No, sir. She said he sold his house to buy the stables and took a flat somewhere in Watford. And I asked her if she knew where Amanda lived and she said somewhere in London. She didn’t know more than that. She’d lost touch with her since the divorce and Amanda never came to Sarratt any more so she hadn’t seen her in years.’

‘So they managed to keep that part secret,’ Slider mused. ‘Though we still don’t know whether they are living together, or whether he’s just lodging with her for convenience’s sake.’

Connolly eyed him as if he were mad. ‘Sir, she wanted to marry Robin all along. No sooner does she finish with the doc than she funds his new business and he moves in with her. It looks black and white to me.’

‘It
is
very persuasive,’ Slider agreed. ‘But is there anything in this to suggest either of them would want Rogers dead? As far as I can see, he’s out of the picture. They’re divorced, and she could have married Robin ten times over if she wanted to. I can’t see any motive there.’

She looked disappointed. ‘Well, guv, now you mention it, neither can I. But that’s not to say there isn’t one. And she’s all we’ve got.’

‘So far,’ said Slider. He drummed his fingers on the desk, thinking. Amanda Sturgess had still seemed very bitter towards Rogers, even after all these years and having got, apparently, the man she wanted in the end. ‘Revenge?’ he said aloud. She had said there would be a woman at the bottom of it. Had she been being clever at their expense? It was a common failing in killers who had planned the killing – they longed to boast, particularly to the police. There was no fun in it if no one ever knew how clever they had been.

‘Or money,’ Connolly said, watching him hopefully like a bird eyeing a worm hole. ‘There’s got to be money in this somewhere.’

Slider shook his head. ‘Even if, long shot, Amanda was behind the murder, we don’t know that she’d get Frith to do it, rather than a professional. She might keep him entirely in the dark.’

‘But given everything he owes her . . .’

‘It still isn’t enough to ask someone to do murder for you.’

‘Unless he hates Rogers as well.’

‘Even so, if he’s as soft as you’ve been making out—’

‘Oh, I don’t think he can be soft,’ Connolly said. ‘Maybe a pushover in the love stakes, but he’s won Badminton twice, and you don’t get to do that being a softie. And when Maureen was talking about how good he is with animals, she told how once they were walking home from school, the three of them, and a car going past them hit a pheasant. The poor beast was flapping around, and Robin – they were all about ten at the time – picked it up and broke its neck, just like that.’

‘Anyone would do the same,’ said Slider, who was a country boy himself.

‘I’m from Dublin,’ said Connolly. ‘I’d have taken it to the vet.’

SIX

Route of all Evil

F
reddie Cameron rang last thing. ‘To let you know I’ve taken the fingerprints and I’m sending them over to you. Just in case there’s any doubt about the corpse being the corpse.’

‘We’re sure it is, but thanks anyway.’

‘A little surer never hurts,’ Freddie said. ‘There are no scars or interesting marks on the body, and I’m afraid there’s nothing of the face left. Hardly any of the teeth, either, just a couple of molars – not enough to match for dental work. Not sure really how you would make formal identification.’

‘From what we know about him so far, there may be several young ladies who could recognize one part of him.’

‘Hmm. Identification
per pinem
. Wonder how that would go down in the coroner’s court.’

Slider winced. ‘Unfortunate choice of word in the circumstances – “go down”.’

‘You’re obviously feeling frisky, old chum. Case going well?’

‘As smoothly as a hippo through a hand-operated mangle.’

‘Ah. Situation normal, then. I take it you’re not worried about tox screens and other such arcana?’

‘At the moment I’m working on the premise that it was the gunshot that killed him.’

‘It didn’t do him any good, that’s for sure. Well, let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.’

‘Doctor to doctor, you could tell me where he was working, if you wouldn’t mind. He’s not on any GP register. The witness said he worked at a hospital in Stansted but there’s no such place. And his salary seems to have come from something called Windhover, which we can’t identify so far. Ever heard of it?’

‘Windhover? Nope. Though there is something faintly familiar about the name David Rogers, which I haven’t been able to pin down in the old cerebellum.’

‘You think you’ve heard of him before?’

‘Could be. On the other hand, it’s a very ordinary name, isn’t it? There could be any number of David Rogerses. Or Roger Davises. Roger Davidson,’ he tried out, speculatively. ‘David Rogerson. Rabid Dodgerson. It could be anything, really. Or I could have dreamt it.’

‘Thanks, Freddie,’ Slider said warmly. ‘I knew I could count on you.’

Porson came to the meeting the next afternoon, carrying a mug of tea on top of which was balanced a plate bearing a Chelsea bun. The troops parted deferentially for him, but he eased his way to the back of the room and perched on a desk. ‘Carry on,’ he said. ‘I’m not here. I’m a fly on the wheel.’

Slider nodded to Hollis, who went through the basic facts of the case so far: the shout, Catriona Aude, the Firmans, the school’s CCTV, the gun’s provenance. Then Slider took over.

‘We’re assuming, for working purposes, that deceased was in fact David Rogers and that death was in fact caused by the single gunshot at close range to the back of the skull. There’s no reason at the moment to doubt either of these basics, so let’s not complicate an already difficult case. Swilley, what did you find out about Aude and her flatmates?’

‘Nothing suspicious, guv,’ Swilley said. ‘She shares a flat with two blokes and another female. She pays the least and gets the smallest room, and it’s a bit of a pit: clothes, make-up, sounds, magazines – never seen so much shite. She wouldn’t want a cleaner, she’d want a curator. But there’s nothing sinister in there. The flatmates seem decent, normal types. They’ve all got steady jobs, no big debts, no big spending habits. No obvious drug use. The four of them do the usual things – go to pubs, go clubbing, watch telly, have friends round. The two men have got semi-permanent girlfriends. The female and Aude were playing the field – looking for The One, according to the other female. I got plenty about that. Usual rant about how impossible it was to find a bloke who’ll commit these days.’

‘She was telling the wrong person,’ Atherton said. ‘Look how often you turned me down.’

Swilley ignored him. ‘It sounds as if Aude was the more desperate of the two. Always getting off with unsuitable blokes. One-night stands. Nothing lasting more than a couple of months at best. They were quite excited about Rogers. Pleased for her. He was a bit out of her usual class: money, nice manners, and the fact he wasn’t married was a real bonus. She told her flatmates he was a consultant at a hospital, but that was about all. They said he was generous with his money – took her to posh restaurants, gave her a couple of nice presents. Anyway,’ she concluded, ‘I can’t see she was in on it, guv. The impression was she was really stuck on him. Apparently she thought the relationship was going places, talking about something permanent down the line. Talk about the triumph of hope over experience.’

‘So you think she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?’ said Slider. ‘OK, we’ll put her to one side. The only other contact we’ve got at the moment is Rogers’s ex-wife.’ He ran through the interview with Amanda Sturgess and related Connolly’s story about the relationship between her and Frith. ‘Whether the barmaid Maureen is right or not, there is obviously more to it than Amanda told us. The divorce seems to have been acrimonious – on her part, at least. She didn’t mention anything about Frith or helping him to buy the stables, and while there’s no reason she should have, she did seem anxious for us not to speak to him when he came in. Who’s been looking into this agency of hers?’