The Thread of Evidence (23 page)

Pacey opened the office door and they went in. Pacey read over the simple statement to him, and David signed it, the whole process taking only a couple of minutes.

Again, on the way out, Pacey started a conversation in the corridor.

‘This sort of thing should be right up your street, sir. I heard that you were a pathologist at one time.'

‘Yes, but all hospital work; none of this blood-and- thunder forensic stuff. We “straight” pathologists leave all that to the more cranky members of the profession.'

They passed down the stairs and Pacey saw him off on the steps of the police station.

‘Mind if I leave my car in your yard for a couple of minutes?' asked David. ‘I want to nip across the road and buy some collars and things.'

He strode off down the street, and Pacey almost ran back up the stairs to hear what Edna Collins had to say.

Willie had taken her into the office by the time he got up there.

‘Well, what do you think?' he asked, breathing heavily after dashing up the two flights.

The blonde looked blankly at him.

‘Sorry, dear – I never saw him before in my life!'

Some minutes later, when the woman had left to catch her train back to Cardiff, Pacey sat dejectedly with Rees in the upstairs office.

‘Looks as if we're all washed up, Willie,' he said. ‘The old man is sure to give this to the Yard now. I can't say I blame him. And they're welcome to it.'

‘What about the other girls on the list? And all the other areas that we haven't covered?'

‘You know as well as I do that there's nothing in those. That Bristol girl turned up two years ago – they forgot to notify the Bureau. The others are hardly worth the trouble of chasing. And, as for starting on the North Country and London, well that's just impossible. Let the Yard do it, and the best of luck to 'em!'

Rees picked up the bogus statement from the desk.

‘I may as well tear this up, then?'

Pacey shook his head wearily. ‘Better hang on to it until the other brother shows up. It'll look more genuine if we can show him that one when he's signing his own.'

Willie leered sadistically at his colleague. ‘I should have taken that dollar bet with you, shouldn't I? What about my idea that it might be this other brother – he's a doctor and knows as much about Tremabon as the first one?'

Pacey scowled at him. ‘Oh, shut up, will you? Don't kick a man when he's down. I suppose I'll have to pull myself together and go down to Cardigan now to confess to “Dick” Barton.'

There was a rapid knocking on the door.

‘Perhaps this is the other brother,' suggested Rees.

‘Sounds a bit anxious, just to sign a statement. Come in!' yelled Pacey.

The door opened and the startled face of Edna Collins appeared.

Pacey jumped to his feet. ‘What's the trouble? I thought you were in a hurry to catch your train?'

She came into the room, her heavily powdered face even paler than usual.

‘I've seen him – the man in the club – the one you're looking for!'

‘What the devil d'you mean! You said just now that it wasn't him?'

‘No, no – not the one that came in here … another chap! I was just going down the street when a car pulled up and a man got out. He bumped into me and apologized – then I saw who it was!'

‘Did he say anything?'

‘I … I don't know. I think he started to speak – I know he recognized me. I could see it in his face – but I just ran!'

‘Why did you want to run?' snapped Pacey.

Edna Collins had lost all her brazen self-assurance now. She looked frightened and suddenly old.

‘When I saw you in Cardiff, I didn't know what all this was about. I talked to some of the other girls – they told me about the skeleton in the cave, it's been in the papers – and you are the man investigating the – the murder. So it all fits, doesn't it? That man who was with Julie – he's the one you want – that's why I ran.'

‘Where did he go?' Pacey said urgently, moving towards the door.

‘Into a shop, I think. I ran back here and looked around, but he was gone. His car was still parked at the kerb though.'

‘What car was it?'

‘A big green one – a Rover, I think. It looked the same as my boss's; he's got a Rover.'

Willie Rees' sparse hair almost stood on end. He gaped at Pacey.

‘Gerald Ellis-Morgan!'

Pacey didn't wait to discuss it. ‘Stay here. Miss Collins. Come on, Willie! ‘

As he turned the door knob, there was a knock on the panel and the door pushed open against his hand.

‘They told me to come up, Mr Pacey – about the statement.'

Gerald Ellis-Morgan poked his head around the door and, as he saw Edna Collins standing in the room, a sickly smile spread over his face.

‘Come in, Doctor, will you.'

Pacey's voice was unusually grim. His habitual air of easy bonhomie had evaporated and he closed the door and stood with his back to it as Gerald moved into the room.

The woman stood with her handbag pressed to her chest, watching the new arrival as if she expected him to whip a revolver from his pocket at any second. Rees stood near to the desk, bewilderment at Gerald's materialization plain on his face.

‘Er … hello, again.' Gerald spoke sheepishly to the girl, who continued to stare at him as if petrified.

Pacey came to life, his voice cold and heavy.

‘Dr Ellis-Morgan, I gather that you already know this young lady?'

Gerald, his manner suggesting embarrassment rather than guilt, turned to the superintendent. ‘Er … yes, we bumped into each other in the street just now.'

Pacey spoke slowly, as if to emphasize the importance of his words. ‘But did you know her before then?'

Gerald looked from Pacey to Edna and back again.

‘We had met – briefly. A very long time ago.'

The atmosphere in the room was tense. Rees and the barmaid looked like two springs, coiled ready to fly into action.

Pacey walked towards the doctor, who began to look more and more uncomfortable.

‘And just where was it that you met, sir?'

Gerald's discomfiture began to change into annoyance. ‘Really, Mr Pacey, I don't know what's going on here! I came to sign some statement for you. The fact that I happen to have met this lady a long time ago is no business of yours. I can't imagine why she's here, but it's no concern of mine.'

‘I'm afraid it might well be, Doctor,' Pacey said tonelessly. ‘I must ask you to answer my questions – and I assure you that it may be very much your business. Now, where and when did you first meet this lady?'

Gerald shrugged resignedly. ‘OK. But I hope you'll keep my answers to yourself – I would take grave exception to my private life being broadcast. I met the lady – I'm afraid I can't remember her name – in Cardiff.'

‘Where in Cardiff,' persisted Pacey inexorably.

‘In a club, as it happens.' Gerald managed to inject a note of condescension into his voice.

‘Would that be the “Porcupine Club”?' asked the detective.

‘Yes, it was.'

‘And when were you last there?'

Gerald looked genuinely puzzled. ‘God, I don't know. Ages ago – must have been about nineteen fifty-four or five – when my brother was working in Cardiff.'

‘And did you ever stay with your brother at his flat near the hospital?'

Gerald began to redden and look angry. ‘What the hell is all this about? You seem to have been doing a great deal of snooping. Was this nonsense about a statement a trick to get me up here?'

Pacey sighed, relaxing his mood slightly. ‘No, as it happens, it was not! Now, please, answer my question. Did you ever use your brother's flat? And, if so, when?'

Gerald dropped into a chair and slapped his hands on his thighs in exasperation.

‘Why should I answer you? This is an intrusion into my private life. All right. So I did go to a rather offbeat club and I did borrow my brother's flat for the odd weekend. What's that got to do with you? What
is
all this?'

‘You did stay there, then. Was your brother always there? And when was the last time you stayed there?'

Gerald got up again and walked up to Pacey until their noses were almost touching.

‘Look, I do – not – know when I stayed there – it was bloody years ago – but I
do
know that I'm not going to answer any more damn fool questions!'

‘Doctor, you're going to answer one more, whether you like it or not. Did you know a girl by the name of Julie Gordon?'

There was a silence as palpable as a concrete wall. Gerald's already indignantly pink face became even more flushed.

‘I was wondering when you were going to get around to that!' he said, sarcasm and bitterness in his voice. ‘I suppose it's almost inevitable, really – a respectable country practitioner isn't allowed to let his hair down occasionally without risking social suicide. I suppose this is something to do with a blackmail attempt. Is it this woman behind it?'

Pacey shook his head and motioned Rees to the door.

‘Inspector, go out and see if you can catch Dr David Ellis-Morgan before he finishes his shopping. His car is in the yard. Ask him to come up here.'

Rees vanished and Pacey advanced to the middle of the room.

‘I'm sorry, Doctor, but I should advise you not to say anything until your brother comes and you arrange to get a solicitor. You see, I'm afraid that I must formally charge you with the murder of Julie Ann Gordon, in November nineteen fifty-five and caution you that anything you say may be taken down and used in evidence.'

Chapter Eighteen

When Rees returned ten minutes later with the accused man's brother, Pacey took him into another room on the ground floor to break the news of Gerald's arrest.

Rees took Edna Collins away to get a proper statement drawn up, leaving Gerald Ellis-Morgan in the upper office in charge of a constable from the station.

Pacey gravely outlined to David the events leading up to the arrest of his brother.

‘You see, sir, I thought all along – at least, ever since the Mavis Hewitt nonsense was dealt with – that there was a medical brain behind this affair.'

David listened in silence. His face was drained of every trace of colour, but his voice was firm and controlled.

‘This is utter nonsense itself, Mr Pacey. But I suppose you must have some facts to lead you to such a foolhardy thing as to charge my brother with murder?'

‘I have indeed, Doctor. This isn't a thing I'd undertake lightly. Your brother has already admitted knowing the dead girl's friend – the woman upstairs. He admits knowing the deceased girl – admits seeing her frequently during the last week of her life – admits staying in your flat that week, when you were absent for several nights. Now, sir, when the body is found not half a mile from your brother's home, in circumstances which make it almost certain that someone with medical knowledge is involved, what choice have I but to accuse him of the crime?'

David sat like a stone image, hands clasped so tightly that the knuckles showed white through the skin.

‘It sounds as if my brother has done too much talking already. I must get him a lawyer before he makes an even bigger fool of himself.'

Pacey was thankful that the older brother was taking this shocking experience in such a sensible way. By contrast, Gerald's reaction to being charged was a volatile mixture of scorn, anger and apprehension.

‘I think it would be very wise to get a solicitor, as soon as possible. I'm afraid your brother is a rather hot-headed young man. He might let his temper provoke him into saying something which he might regret, unless you have someone to advise and restrain him.'

David rose from the chair abruptly. ‘I'll see about it right away. But, tell me, you must have stronger evidence than the word of a barmaid and the mere admission of Gerry's that he had a passing acquaintance with the dead girl?'

Pacey saw no harm in revealing what would soon be common knowledge, in return for the civilized way in which the doctor was taking the disaster.

‘We have indeed, sir. Our laboratory has identified human bloodstains on the floor of the bathroom in your old flat and also found blood in the outlet of the bath.'

He was diplomatic enough not to mention that the tests were done at a time when David himself was the suspect. Pacey also carefully refrained from mentioning the examination of the Ford estate car.

David took the news in silence. After a moment spent in staring unseeingly at the opposite wall, he turned to leave the room.

‘Thank you for your consideration, Superintendent. I'll go and see about that solicitor now. I suppose Gerald will be kept here, won't he?'

Pacey nodded gravely. ‘I'm afraid he will be kept in custody until remanded by a magistrate in the morning. Then he will have to wait for the preliminary hearing, which will be within a week or two. If the justices think there is a strong enough case, they will commit him to the next Assizes for trial.'

The two men looked directly at each other and their eyes clashed.

‘I don't think matters will get as far as that, Mr Pacey. Remember Roland Hewitt? He was
another
red herring.' The doctor's voice held a biting challenge.

Pacey sighed. ‘It doesn't give me any pleasure, if that's any comfort to you. Arresting your brother is a part of my job that I could quite easily do without. But I have to do what I think is right, sir.'

David walked to the door, and turned as he reached it. ‘I think you mean that, Mr Pacey. Thank you. I'll go and fix up this solicitor now. I'll telephone you inside an hour to let you know what's been arranged. You won't question my brother before then, I hope?'

‘No. I'll wait until I hear from you, Doctor.'