Stop Dead (6 page)

‘I should have known you were thinking about your stomach. Come on then, I think we’ve seen what we need to see here for now. Let’s go and grab something to eat – but I want to be back here soon to question the witness who discovered Henshaw, if he’s in. The sooner we speak to him, the better, while it’s still fresh in his mind.’

Sam looked shamefaced.

‘We should really see him now, shouldn’t we? I can wait, of course I can. Work comes first.’

‘You’re sure of that?’ Geraldine asked, her sarcasm lost on Sam who nodded seriously.

‘Come on then, it’s number thirty-six. Let’s get this job done.’

They left the tent and removed their suits, gloves and shoes before returning to the street where a small crowd of onlookers, mainly women, had gathered just beyond the police tape that cordoned off the narrow lane leading to the lock ups. Muttering to one another, shuffling and waiting for information about the dead man who had unexpectedly shattered the monotony of their street, they fell silent, watching, as Geraldine emerged from the narrow side turning and looked up and down the street of houses.

‘Hey, miss,’ one of them called out.

‘What’s going on?’

‘We’ve got a right to know.’

Geraldine approached a uniformed constable and spoke quietly so members of the public wouldn’t overhear her.

‘There’s no chance any of it was caught on CCTV I suppose?’

‘No ma’am. There’s no cameras this far from the main road, and even if the car was filmed driving past the station, or somewhere else in the area, we’re not going to see a dicky bird through those windows.’

‘No, I suppose not.’

As she turned back to the onlookers, a few more voices called out to her.

‘Who is it in there?’

‘What’s happening here?’

‘Has someone been murdered on the street?’

Ignoring the demands from the crowd, the two detectives walked past them to number thirty-six. Geraldine pushed open the gate and Sam followed her across the narrow front yard. It began to drizzle as they waited on the doorstep.

‘At least the rain will send the spectators packing,’ Geraldine said, nodding in the direction of the neighbours who showed no sign of dispersing.

‘T
he witness who found the body is called Keith Apsley,’ Geraldine reminded Sam as she rang the bell.

A moment later a man opened the door. Tall and pale, he stared anxiously down at them.

‘Keith Apsley?’

‘Yes. Is it about –’

Geraldine held out her warrant card and introduced herself and her sergeant.

‘We’d like to ask you a few questions.’

‘Yes. That’s OK. I’ve been expecting you,’ he mumbled.

Geraldine detected a whiff of alcohol on his breath as he spoke.

‘I’ve been trying not to think about it, but I just can’t get it out of my head. How can I, knowing what’s out there? To be honest, I didn’t sleep at all last night, what with the shock and being on my own and all. They have taken it away, haven’t they – should I say him?’

‘The body’s been taken to the morgue, Mr Apsley, but the forensic tent will stay there and the area of the lock ups will be cordoned off while it’s examined by forensic officers.’

‘How long will all that take? Only my wife’s coming home this evening and she’ll need to put the car in the garage.’

‘As long as it takes for the forensic team to complete their search. I’m afraid I can’t say how long that will be.’

Keith stood aside to let the two women in. Entering a neat narrow hallway Geraldine’s eyes were caught by a smear of blood on the light carpet. Noticing the direction of her gaze he started forward.

‘It’s not how it looks,’ he stammered.

‘How does it look?’

‘You think it’s blood, don’t you? Well, I think so too. That’s why I suspected something was wrong in the first place, but he never came here. I didn’t know him. It was my shoe, the blood was on my shoe –’

Keith was babbling nervously.

‘Perhaps you’d like to sit down and start at the beginning, Mr Apsley.’

‘Yes, of course. Come on in. Let’s go in the living room.’

‘We’ll get that checked forensically,’ Sam said, pausing and looking down at the stain.

‘There’s no need. I know where it came from. It’s from that car. I trod in it, you see. Look.’

He darted forward, picked up a trainer and held it upside down.

‘See?’

He waved the shoe at them before turning to lead them into a small square sitting room, furnished in pine and light blue. Plonking himself down on a chair, he launched into a rambling account of his discovery of the body.

‘My wife’s sister just had a baby, so Jenny’s gone over there. I’m here on my own. Yesterday morning one of my neighbours knocks on the door making a fuss about a car parked outside my garage, blocking his garage. That was the first I knew about it.’

‘What time was it when your neighbour called on you?’

‘Early, about seven maybe. I’d just started breakfast.’

He gave them his neighbour’s details and returned to his narrative, describing how he had gone to the lock ups to take a look at the car.

‘You didn’t report this until after seven yesterday evening, nearly twelve hours later,’ Geraldine pointed out.

‘I know, but I had no idea there was anyone inside. I didn’t take a close look at it at first, I just clocked it was there and went to work. I hoped it would be gone by the time I got home but it was still there in the evening so I went up for a closer look and saw there was someone in the driver’s seat. That’s when I trod in the blood. At first I thought it was some kind of oil although it wasn’t leaking from the engine –’

He broke off with a puzzled frown.

‘I couldn’t see much. I thought he was asleep, only he didn’t move, even when I shouted at him. I called out and banged on the window but he still didn’t move. So then I thought he must be drunk. I didn’t realise I’d trodden in anything until I came in and saw the mess on the carpet.’

‘You tried to clean it up.’

Sam’s comment sounded like an accusation.

‘Yes, I know. I didn’t want Jenny to see it. She’s always on at me to take my shoes off in the house. We’ve got this cream carpet in the hall. I told her it wasn’t the best idea, but she insisted it would be all right. And it was, until this. We’ve had it for two years.’

‘So you tried to remove the blood stain from your carpet,’ Sam interrupted Keith’s panicked babbling.

‘Yes.’

‘Didn’t you wonder where it came from?’

‘I thought it was oil.’

‘Oil?’

‘I just assumed because it looked black to begin with, but when I started rubbing it with water it turned red and that’s when I knew.’

He raised stricken eyes to Geraldine.

‘Thank you. We might ask you to come to the police station to answer a few more questions but that’s all for now, Mr Apsley.’

He accompanied them to the door.

‘Inspector, can you tell me the best way to get rid of blood stains? I need to clean the carpet before Jenny –’

‘Please don’t touch the blood stain on your carpet for the time being, Mr Apsley.’

‘But I can’t just leave it. Jenny’ll go ballistic if she sees it.’

‘We’ll need to send a scene of crime officer in to examine it first.’

‘Why do you need to examine it? I told you where it comes from. You know what it is.’

‘And we’ll need your shoe –’

Keith stared at her, belligerent with sudden fear.

‘What for?’

His voice rose in agitation.

‘And when are you going to move that car? I told you, Jenny will be home this evening and she’ll need to put the car in the garage. There’s no parking round here without a resident’s permit. We haven’t even got one because we don’t need it. We’ve got a garage –’

He paused and took a step back.

‘I’m sorry. It’s just – I’m not feeling quite myself. This whole thing’s been horrible.’

‘Mr Apsley, we’ll send a scene of crime officer in as soon as possible,’ Geraldine assured him. ‘Once they’ve finished I’m sure they’ll be able to advise you the best way to remove the blood stain from your carpet.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Did you think there was something a bit dodgy about him?’ Sam asked as they walked back to the car.

Geraldine shrugged.

‘My guess is he’s been drinking this morning. Not a good idea when you’ve missed a night’s sleep after a shock.’

‘But it’s a bit of a coincidence, isn’t it?’ Sam persisted.

‘What is?’

‘His wife goes away and suddenly a dead body turns up on his doorstep.’

‘There’s nothing to suggest he had anything to do with it. Someone just happened to deposit a body by the lock ups. It’s a quiet enough spot.’

Sam wasn’t satisfied.

‘What about the blood stain on his carpet?’

Geraldine looked thoughtful.

‘He gave a reasonable account of how that got there. If he was implicated in the murder, why would he report it to us? And would he be so quick to show us the blood in his hall and on his shoe if he was guilty?’

‘We could hardly miss seeing the blood on the carpet. He didn’t exactly show it to us,’ Sam argued.

Geraldine shook her head.

‘No. It doesn’t add up, Sam. He could easily have covered up the blood stain with a rug, or spilled red wine over it to mask it, or something, and we’d have been none the wiser. Why would he draw our attention to it? And why show us his shoe and admit he’d stepped in the blood right by the car when he could have disposed of the shoe without our seeing it and we might never have known he’d been anywhere near the door of the Mercedes. He could simply have reported what he’d seen through the windscreen, or just reported the car and not mentioned he knew there was someone inside it at all.’

Sam scowled.

‘Well, it all seems a bit odd to me.’

‘We’ll certainly check him out, and his missing wife, but I don’t think someone who’s just committed a murder would be in such a hurry to summon us, and go out of his way to draw suspicion on himself. Why would he?’

‘To put us off the scent,’ Sam argued. ‘He didn’t exactly rush to call us. The car had been there all day, maybe longer for all we know. He said himself he saw it when he went out yesterday morning. He must’ve realised someone would report it eventually and it’s parked right outside his garage. He probably thought it would look odd if he didn’t report it himself.’

‘Well, maybe, but I don’t think so.’

‘Why not?’

‘For a start, he seemed far more worried about his wife’s reaction to the stain on the carpet than about the body outside his garage.’

‘Transference?’

‘Maybe. Now come on, we’ve got an important job to do.’

Sam’s face fell.

‘Oh Jesus, what now?’

Geraldine turned to her with a laugh.

‘Lunch of course. Or aren’t you hungry any more?’

Sam grinned.

‘Ravenous,’ she replied. ‘I know this great Chinese chippy not far from here.’

‘T
his place must have cost a few bob,’ Sam said with a low whistle as they cruised along an elegant tree-lined avenue in Hampstead and drew up outside a large detached house. She stared around in admiration before following Geraldine through an iron gate into a small front garden.

‘I reckon some of the windows at the back must have a view over the heath.’

‘Put your eyes back in,’ Geraldine smiled.

The door was opened by a slim blonde woman in her late thirties, well groomed rather than beautiful. She was wearing a figure hugging dark green pencil skirt and matching shoes, with a pale green silk blouse which set off blonde hair as glossy as that of a model in a shampoo advertisement. Grey eyes peered at them through a long fringe. There was something guarded in her solemn expression. Whatever other emotions she might be feeling, the widow was clearly frightened.

‘Amy Henshaw?’

‘Yes.’

Geraldine held out her warrant card.

‘I’m Detective Inspector Geraldine Steel and this is Detective Sergeant Samantha Haley. May we come in?’

‘This is about my husband, isn’t it? Has something happened to him? He hasn’t been home since Sunday and I’ve been so worried –’

She raised a manicured hand to her mouth.

‘Let’s go inside, shall we?’

Amy led them across a spacious hall into a living room comfortably furnished with armchairs, a small settee, and several occasional tables neatly positioned within easy reach of every chair.

‘I suggest you sit down, Mrs Henshaw.’

‘What is it? What’s happened? Tell me he’s all right.’

She was chattering nervously, seeming far too jittery considering she had no idea yet what had happened.

‘I’m afraid your husband’s dead, Mrs Henshaw.’

‘Dead? He can’t be!’

Her surprise seemed genuine.

‘It’s not –’

For an instant Geraldine thought she caught a glimpse of real terror in Amy’s expression before she threw herself forward, hiding her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with noisy sobs.

Geraldine gave Sam a quick nod and the sergeant set off to find the kitchen.

‘Detective Sergeant Haley’s gone to make you a cup of tea,’ Geraldine said quietly. ‘When you’re ready, I’d like to ask you a few questions.’

‘Questions?’

Her shoulders were motionless now, her face still hidden.

‘What sort of questions?’

‘We’re investigating your husband’s death.’

‘Investigating? What do you mean?’

‘Mrs Henshaw, your husband didn’t die from natural causes. He was murdered.’

Amy Henshaw shuddered. Dropping her hands, she peered up at Geraldine through her fringe and spoke rapidly, almost hysterically.

‘I don’t understand. You haven’t told me how he died. What makes you think he was murdered? That’s insane.’

Her grey eyes glared at Geraldine.

‘It’s a horrible thing to say. No one would have wanted to harm Patrick. No one. What happened? Was it a drunken brawl? He liked to drink sometimes …’

Her voice petered out.

Geraldine leaned forward, watching Amy’s expression closely.

‘Was your husband often involved in fights?’

‘No. He wasn’t. He was never involved in any fighting. What makes you think he was ever in a fight?’