DARK CRIMES a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (24 page)

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David Goodenough arrived promptly at seven and was shown through to the largest of the interview rooms, where Sophie and the detective from Walsall were waiting. A large jug of water sat on the table in front of them, with several glasses. Goodenough was offered a glass of water, and took a sip. Marsh, Pillay, Melsom and Liz Angel were watching on a TV monitor that had been set up in the incident room. Tom Rose joined them.

Sophie opened the plain folder in front of her. ‘Mr Goodenough, last week when we first spoke, you agreed with me when I suggested that your mother had moved to Purbeck to be near her own mother, who owned that flat in Gilbert Road at the time. Yet your Swanage grandmother’s name was Deirdre Goodenough, which means she was your paternal grandmother and not directly related to your mother. Why did you let me believe otherwise?’

Goodenough took a sip of water. ‘I must have been confused. I wasn’t thinking straight. You’d just given me the worst news I could ever receive, and my brain was fuzzed up.’

‘Your grandmother had always lived in this area, hadn’t she? Apparently she was a pillar of the local community. Your father was born here, wasn’t he?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘And he was well-thought of, too. Several locals remember him as a young man. They say that he didn’t have an ounce of badness in him.’

‘Well, they weren’t on the inside, were they? The kind of bullying we suffered from is easy to hide from outsiders, you should know that. Look, what’s going on? You said that you had information for me.’

‘I’m just trying to get a couple of things straight in my mind.' She picked up the first sheet of paper. ‘Your GP in Walsall has made a statement that there was never any hint of physical abuse to your mother, nor any history of heart trouble. If anything, it was your mother who had the temper, not your father. He visited the doctor several times for cuts and bruises to the face that were consistent with being struck with household objects. On two occasions the police were called by neighbours and found your father nursing mild injuries, and your mother under the influence of alcohol. But he never pressed charges. Isn’t it the case, Mr Goodenough, that the break-up of your parents’ marriage was down to your mother’s unstable behaviour rather than your father’s? That’s what the evidence would seem to suggest.’

Goodenough didn’t speak.

‘Donna was in fact closer to your father than your mother, wasn’t she? You said yourself that she was “the apple of his eye” but went on to add that didn’t apply when he was drunk. But no one in the neighbourhood of your family home in Walsall ever remembers him drunk. People recall him as a sober, thoughtful man. But they do remember that your mother was fond of the drink.’

‘Like I said, they weren’t on the inside.’

‘You told me that your father was apparently killed in a car accident in August.’

‘As far as I know, that’s true. We only heard later. We were out of contact with him by then.’

Sophie picked up the next sheet.

‘This is a summary of the police inquiry into your father’s death. He was apparently the victim of a hit and run incident.’

‘I didn’t know that.’

‘DS Black here is from the West Midlands police, and was involved in the subsequent investigation. No one has yet been apprehended for the crime.’ She paused. ‘Would you like a solicitor, Mr Goodenough?’

‘I don’t see why I need one. I haven’t done anything wrong.’

Sophie took a photo out of the folder. It was an image of the van that Goodenough used for his job, owned by his cousin’s delivery company.

‘Were you using this van during August, Mr Goodenough?’

‘It looks the same colour as mine. The company owns three.’

‘This is the registration.’

He glanced down at the slip of paper that she slid across in front of him.

‘My van does have that registration.’

‘Its paint matches the fragments found on your father’s clothing exactly. It has slight marks on the front offside wing consistent with the injuries that your father suffered, although they have been sprayed over. I say again, would you like a solicitor, Mr Goodenough?’

‘I don’t have one.’

‘That’s not a problem. I have our duty solicitor outside. Shall I call her in?’

Goodenough shrugged. Sophie glanced across to the constable standing by the door. The solicitor was with them within five minutes, and Sophie summarised what had been said. She continued. ‘When we spoke last week, I gave you the opportunity to tell me anything important about the family that would help me in my investigation into the deaths of your sister and your mother. Do you remember?’

‘I’ve already told you, I was confused by everything that had happened. My brain wasn’t thinking straight.’

‘Why didn’t you ever mention that you were adopted? And that Donna was adopted as well? Didn’t you think it important that I should know your mother and father were not the birth parents of your sister? She’d just been murdered, for goodness’ sake, as had your mother. What on earth caused you to believe that wouldn’t be information of vital importance?’

‘Adopted children should be treated the same as the birth-children. I did nothing wrong in not telling you.’

‘You are right, of course, from a legal perspective. But in my role of trying to find your sister’s killer, knowing she had been adopted could have saved a lot of time. So, Donna was not your natural sister?’

‘No.’

‘You also led me to believe that you grew up in Walsall, but that isn’t true is it? You moved there in your mid-teens. Donna would have been about eleven. Where did you live before then?’

‘Southampton.’

Sophie turned another page of notes. ‘Your father worked in the docks? As an electrician?’

Goodenough nodded.

‘Soon after the Goodenoughs adopted you, they fostered another boy for a few months. Can you remember that?’

‘No. I was too young.’

‘You were seven. He was eight. Granted it was for a short time, but I would have thought he would have left an impression. His name was Andrew. He never settled, and proved to be a real problem for your parents. He was almost uncontrollable. Do you remember him now?’

‘No.’

‘But you did meet him again some years later, didn’t you? He went to the same school as you. He was a year ahead of you, wasn’t he?’

‘We didn’t speak to people who were a year above us. You must know what kids are like. I didn’t know him.’

‘That’s not what some of the staff say.’ She glanced down at the next document in the pile. ‘A couple of older staff members state that the two of you were as thick as thieves. According to them, the reason your family moved to the Midlands was to get you away from him. Your parents saw him as a trouble-maker and a bad influence on you. They told the head so. Your uncle in Walsall had spotted an ideal job vacancy in his area, told your father about it, and it seemed a good solution to a difficult problem. The family moved and the link was broken.’

‘I have nothing further to say.’

‘The boy’s name was Andrew Renshaw. Renshaw was his mother’s name. His father’s name was Riley. He discovered that quite recently, and uses either name as he sees fit.’

Silence. Sophie watched the man seated opposite her. He dropped his eyes.

Back in the incident room the group of officers were huddled in front of the monitor.

‘Christ, she’s doing it again,’ Marsh said.

‘Why? What else has she got?’ asked Melsom.

‘I don’t know. Something got emailed to her late this afternoon, and she kept it closely guarded. She’s too bloody dramatic for words. It’s unbelievable.’

In the interview room, Sophie finally spoke:

‘Mr Goodenough, your own birth-mother’s name was Renshaw. He’s your brother or half-brother, isn’t he? You stayed in touch, despite the wishes of your parents, and he moved in on Donna when she came back to this area as a student. Did you tell him that she was coming? I bet she wasn’t even aware of the history, was she? I bet she thought this charming man, Andy, was just another guy. But you knew, didn’t you? You knew full well what was going on. And the two of you planned and schemed and plotted. And you stood to gain from the acquisition of three properties with a total value, I’d guess, of about three-quarters of a million pounds. But do you know what really makes me feel sick in my stomach, Mr Goodenough? It’s that you knew what kind of man he was. You knew what he did to his girlfriends. And yet you still let him loose on your step-sister. He might be a psychopath, Mr Goodenough, but what are you?’

She waited for a while before continuing:

‘You need to know that earlier this afternoon we charged Andrew Riley with five counts of murder. More interestingly from your point of view, DS Black and his colleagues in Walsall have found the ashes and residues from some recent attempts at incineration at your home. Burned photos, they think. We found keys to Donna’s flat and your mother’s cottage hidden at Andrew Riley’s home in Southampton. How could he have obtained possession of those keys, Mr Goodenough? All this leads us to believe that you were heavily involved in the planning and execution of three of those murders, so you will be charged accordingly once we have assembled all our evidence. Meanwhile I will leave DS Black to charge you with the murder of your father in August in Walsall.’

CHAPTER 23: Sequins and Shimmy

Saturday Morning

Sophie drove directly to the county police headquarters the next morning. Matt Silver was waiting for her in the car park. He walked across to her as she got out of her car and gave her a hug.

‘You do realise that this is going to turn you into a bit of a celebrity, don’t you? And not only within this force?’

‘Shield me from it, Matt. I’m sure that’s part of your job.’

‘I’ll do what I can. The big chief wants to see you.’

‘Do you mean he’s missed his Saturday morning golf just to see me? Maybe the world will end this year, after all.’

They walked down the corridor to the chief constable’s suite, and were shown straight in to the inner sanctum. The ACC in charge of criminal investigation, Jim Metcalfe, was already there, as was Neil Dunnett. They rose to greet her.

‘I want to say, Sophie, what a brilliant job you’ve done.’ The chief’s voice always sounded slightly strained, no matter how hard he tried to sound sincere. She knew he meant what he said. ‘Clearing up five murders in twelve days is exceptional. We’re all so proud of you.’

‘It was six, sir. Don’t forget the father in Walsall. We solved that for West Midlands. It was a payback if you like. I was aware that they didn’t want to lose me when I came here. And thank you, sir. You and the ACC have always made me feel wanted, as has Matt here. I know you gambled a bit when you appointed me, and I’m grateful.’

‘The next superintendent’s job that comes up, Sophie, you can just walk right into it.’

‘Thank you sir, but no. I’m a hands-on person. I think you all know that. I’m already in the right job for me. I really don’t want anything else, and you certainly wouldn’t want me anywhere in the vicinity of your office doing a desk job. It would be sheer hell for me and for all of you. You’d probably have to fire me within a year. I just want you all to tolerate my quirks and know that I’ll always do the best job I can for you.’

Metcalfe broke in at this point. ‘But none of us are getting any younger, Sophie. I know that’s a cliché, but it’s a true one. What you do places enormous stresses on you. You have to think of your future.’

‘I might try to return to academic life when I can’t do this anymore, Jim. I loved the year out doing my master’s degree when I was in London. They told me at the time that it wouldn’t be difficult to extend the area I worked on into a doctorate. My dream would be to get a lectureship somewhere. I was so apprehensive when I started university as an eighteen-year-old. I was from a single parent background, and came from a council flat in Bristol. I was terrified. Yet my years at Oxford were among the best of my life.’

‘And your husband? Martin?’

‘We met while we were students there. He feels the same. It has good memories for both of us. But don’t worry, that’s years away yet. You’ve got me for a good while longer, so keep indulging me. And thank you again for your support.’

‘I sometimes think you’re the toughest person I have in my team,’ Metcalfe added.

‘Well, I am a woman, Jim.’ She laughed. ‘But seriously, if you think I’m tough, you should see what my mother had to go through. Pregnant with me and turned out onto the streets at sixteen. She’s always been my inspiration.’

‘Are you returning to Swanage today?’ asked the chief.

‘Yes, directly from here. Just to clear up, and say goodbye.’

He passed her a sealed envelope. ‘Don’t refuse it, Sophie. It’s to take them all out for lunch or whatever you think is most appropriate.’

‘Thank you, sir. I’ll do that and let them know of your thanks.’

They left the office and she turned to Silver. ‘I hope you’re coming down to join us for this shindig, Matt. We got used to having you hanging around.’ She looked at him and laughed at his solemn face. ‘Please?’

* * *

‘Have you had any congratulations from HQ?’ asked Marsh. They were sharing a coffee in the incident room.

‘Yes, and I’ll be passing that on to everybody later. But we were very lucky, Barry. Not that I told the chief constable that. Riley and Goodenough were such total dumb-asses, despite thinking themselves so clever. They just couldn’t control it all, there was just too much for them. And one of our lucky breaks came from Riley’s poor driving — the near-miss in the lane outside Corfe that you found out about. That gave us the lead about his car. The other was the sheer chance of the nature reserve changing that gate when they did. I wonder what went through his mind when he drove up on Tuesday night with Shaz’s body in the back of his van and found he couldn’t get through? It resulted in him dumping it in the nature reserve part of the pool with the consequences that followed. If it hadn’t have been for that, where would we be? I’ve no doubt we’d have found him in the end, but it could have taken weeks. And that’s more normal in a case like this. Let’s face it, that set-up framing Berzins was a totally crackpot idea. It was paper-thin. Surely the two of them didn’t seriously think that it ever stood a chance of surviving any close scrutiny? Did they seriously think we were all such fools?’

Marsh said, ‘I don’t think I’ve been on a case like this before, you know, with a psychopath. That stuff you told us the other morning was really useful. It explains a lot.’

‘It’s useful as far as it goes. But it doesn’t explain why. It’s all based upon observation of criminally inclined psychopaths, and the way they behave. It’s a kind of syndrome, a set of behaviour patterns. You can read about the clues in text books. You know the kind of thing: look for this kind of behaviour; he might do that; he feels no normal emotions such as these. What’s really interesting, though, is the way that the latest research shows some lack of connectivity inside a psychopath’s brain. Which leads to the real problem for society. Is he ultimately responsible for the crimes he commits in the same way that an individual with a normal brain would be? After all, he’s not responsible for the wiring of his own brain. None of us are. Those pathways are most likely developed during infancy. Dangerous stuff, Barry.’

‘What did you say to him on Thursday, ma’am? That you referred to as you left the incident room yesterday?’

‘You’ll never know. That’s between him and me. Although it’s just possible that the pretty Miss Duke overheard.’ She paused. ‘We’ll need to get a press statement together, Barry, then let family and friends know. It’s all over to the CPS and the Coroner’s Office now. Donna’s aunt can maybe start planning for the funeral.’

‘There have been a lot of people enquiring, ma’am. Berzins and his brother, university people and all the hotel staff. She was very popular.’

‘A young life snuffed out. It’s the worst tragedy that can be thrown at us. And let’s not forget the others: Susie, Shaz, Debbie Martinez. And Donna’s mother. Is it down to pure evil? God knows.’ She shook her head. ‘By the way, confirmation came in this morning about Donna and Susie. They met at the café where Shaz worked, but a couple of years ago, while Donna was still a student. Donna was a part-time waitress there. Kevin confirmed that Donna moved in with Susie for a while when she left Riley.’

* * *

They went out for a celebratory lunch in the Red Lion, one of the local pubs and the closest to the scene of Donna's murder. They returned to the police station in the middle of the afternoon. Sophie asked Melsom to photograph the incident board, and watched as it was carefully cleared of its contents. The items were all filed for future reference. Marsh sidled up to her.

‘Ma’am, it’s our Christmas bash on Friday evening, next week. I’ve organised it this year. We’re holding it at one of the local posh hotels, and we’ve got a four-course meal, a live blues-rock band, plus a disco. It’s in aid of charity. There are a few tickets left. Would you like a couple for yourself and your husband?’

‘Barry, I thought you’d never ask. I’ve had my eye on a gorgeous, ice-blue, sequinned dress for a few weeks now. It’ll be just perfect.’ She paused. ‘Listen, Barry, could you get two more tickets for me? I’m afraid both Hannah and Jade take after their old mum in the shimmy department. I’m sure they’d love to come as well. Would that be alright?’

Barry Marsh nodded, but looked bemused.

‘Shimmy, Barry. Look it up in the dictionary,’ Sophie said, winking at him.

THE END