Deception Love & Murder

by K O'Hanlon

  “Mr Russell, would you state your full name for the record please?”

  James leaned towards the machine and stated his full name. Then the questions began.

  “Mr Russell. Is it true that just after half past eleven last night you phoned this police station to report a stolen vehicle?”

  “Yes.”

  “The vehicle in question belongs to you, is that correct?”

  “I told the officers all this last night when they came to my home.”

  “Please just answer the question, Mr Russell.”

  “Yes the car belongs to me.”

  “Had you been drinking heavily last night before our officers arrived at your home, Mr Russell?”

  “Yes, I’d had a few and fallen asleep on my sofa.”

  “How many would you say you had, Mr Russell?”

  “Three, maybe four pints.”

  “Well was it three or four pints?”

  “Four I guess.”

  “Did you also agree to a breathalyser test yesterday evening before the officers left your house? Were you told that your result was positive and indicated that you were over the legal limit to drive a vehicle?”

  “No I wasn’t told that but I wasn’t driving so it didn’t matter.”

  “A description matching your vehicle was given by a witness at the scene. Did you know that one of your brake lights wasn’t working?”

  “No I didn’t know that.”

  “Do you know a Mr Benjamin Richards?”

  “No, I’ve not heard that name until you mentioned it just now in this room.”

  “Do you know a Mr Michael Fairchild?”

  “No, I’m sorry but I don’t know either of them.”

  “Were you driving the car that hit and killed Mr Benjamin Richards?”

  “No, definitely not! I was at home from 5 in the evening.”

  “Did you abandon your vehicle after hitting Mr Richards then catch 2 trains home before reporting your car stolen, Mr Russell?”

  “No, I told you, I was at home.”

  “We have a witness. We also have CCTV footage of a person matching your description boarding a train. Police have spoken to several of your neighbours and they don’t recall seeing your car parked on your driveway at all after you left for work in the morning.”

  “I was at home from 5pm.”

  “That’ll be all for now, Mr Russell.”

  DI Potter stated the time for the record and presses the stop button. “You’re free to go for now, Mr Russell. We’ll contact you shortly.”

  James stood up with shaky legs, gave DI Potter a nod and walked out the door. He felt really ill and thought he might be sick so he followed the sign to the men’s room to wash his face.

  Stood at the urinal with his back to James was a youngish man. James could see him in the mirror above the wash basin. As the young man turned towards the sinks James froze. He knew that face. The young man also froze in his tracks before quickly heading out the door.

  James had to follow. He needed to know where he’d seen that man before. Could this be the witness that DI Potter spoke of? James had a vague recollection of sitting on a train opposite that person, but when? Was it yesterday evening? His head was so fuzzy now that he couldn’t think.

  As he left the men’s room a strong smell of coffee caught his senses and at that moment he knew where he’d first seen that young man. It was in Starbucks on the day that Samantha was supposed to meet him, then again on the underground. Was he an undercover cop or something? He was so lost in thought now he didn’t see the tall blonde woman walking straight towards him until the very last second.

  “Oh God! Samantha!”

  “What? No, sorry, I’m not Samantha.”

  A man's voice called out from behind James. “Come on, Toni. They’re waiting for us. Where did Sam go, he seems to have vanished.”

  James walked past Toni and out onto the street. He knew that was Samantha and he knew where he’d seen the young man in the toilet. What was going on here? Something wasn’t right but James couldn’t get his head around it. The name Sam was mentioned. Was that young man in the men’s toilet called Sam? James had a bad feeling about all this. His brain was desperately trying to figure it out as he stepped off the pavement into the road.

  Chapter Seven

  J ames was driving fast, too fast. He saw people crossing the road ahead of him but they were walking really slowly. Everyone carried a bunch of dead flowers. He couldn’t slow down he had to go faster but still the never ending trail of people walked at a snail's pace in the road. Some turned towards him and pointed. He still kept going, faster and faster but he wasn’t getting any nearer. He banged on the steering wheel and pressed hard on the hooter. His speed was 95mph on the clock but he had to go even faster. He screamed out loud when a man appeared right in the centre of the road. The man had no face and he carried a red rose. James hit the brakes but the man crashed through the windscreen head first.

  “Are you waking up? Would you like some tea? Open your eyes, Mr Russell. Mr Russell, open your eyes. You’re in hospital, Mr Russell.”

  James tried to open his eyes but only one would open. Through a vision of blur and bright lights he could see a woman’s face really close to his. A light was shone in his eye while someone held his eyelid open. The bed started to move as the woman pumped the head end up out of its flat position. James wanted to swallow but something in his throat was stopping him.

  “Just relax while I remove this tube, you’ll feel much better when it’s out.” The woman removed the tube from James’s throat and pressed the button by the side of the bed.

  It wasn’t long before a man in a long white coat appeared in James’s vision. “Hello, Mr Russell. I’m Doctor Simpson. Can I just ask you a few questions please? Do you know where you are?”

  James tried to nod his head but it hurt so he made a strange noise from his mouth instead.

  “You were involved in an accident, Mr Russell. Do you know who won the world cup in 1966?”

  “What? Yes, it was England.”

  “Very good, Mr Russell. That’s a good sign. I’ll leave you with the nurse now and someone will fetch a tea for you.”

  Doctor Simpson left the room and James tried to sit up but flopped back down. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck. Every part of him hurt. It was all he could do not to shout out in pain.

  The nurse returned carrying a small plastic tray with a polystyrene cup filled with hot tea. “Don’t try to sit up any more than you are now or it might be a bit uncomfortable. I’ve brought you a nice cup of tea but you’ll probably need a straw to drink it. Take it easy as it might be sore from having a tube down your throat for two days.”

  She held the polystyrene cup near his face so he could use the straw but he only took a couple of sips before turning his head away. His throat was too painful.

  “Could I have some iced water instead please, my throat can’t deal with hot tea at the moment.”

  James had been hit by a car when he stepped into the road. He was flung into the air but landing on the roof of the car before hitting the ground had broken his fall. He was still badly hurt with several broken ribs and a large lump on his head but he would survive, unlike the poor chap who he had hit at high speed.

  There were raised voices outside his room. He recognised Doctor Simpson’s voice above the others.

  “No officer you may not question my patient today, he has only just woken from a trauma to his head after two days on a ventilator. He sustained several broken ribs and is on medication. I suggest you come back tomorrow and I’ll decide if he can be questioned.”

  “Can we just take a set of his fingerprints and a swab, it’ll only take a few minutes and it’ll save us time tomorrow.”

  “No, you cannot see him today nor can you take any samples. Come back tomorrow and I’ll decide then if he is well enough to see you. Now good day gentlemen, I have a very busy day.”

  James heard footsteps which h
e assumed were either Doctor Simpson or the police officers walking away.

  The door opened and in came the nurse. She started to unwrap the bandage around James’s head and eye. He had a real shiner and his eye was swollen shut. A massive bruise covered half his face and neck.

  “You were very lucky, Mr Russell. You took a nasty bash to your head but the doctor thinks you’ll be fine. Your ribs will have to heal themselves but the CT scan didn’t show any internal damage apart from some bruising. You should be allowed home after a couple of days although you’ll still need some medication for the pain. You only have three stitches in your head and they’ll probably be taken out in a few days.“

  ”Thank you nurse, you’re very kind.”

  “I’m just doing my job, Mr Russell. Is there anything I can get for you, a sandwich maybe?”

  “Yes, a sandwich would be nice, any filling will do. Whatever you have will be fine.”

  The nurse left the room. James closed his eyes and drifted off into another nightmare.

  Back at the station Mike was being questioned again about his partner. He had already given the police as much information as he could which was very little. Mike was usually the last to leave the office but had left early on the evening of Ben’s death. He had an appointment with his tailor for a suit fitting that day. His wedding was only two weeks away and the death of his partner had come as a major blow to him. Ben was not only Mike’s childhood friend and trusted business partner he was also his best man.

  Toni had been in tears constantly and missed her dress fitting appointment. Mike had even contemplated calling off the wedding until they could all grieve for Ben and help his family arrange the funeral. Ben’s mother was on medication. The flowers found near Ben’s body had a card that read ‘To the best mum in the world, happy birthday, all my love, Ben xxx.’

  Mike was spiralling into a deep depression. Toni had never seen him so sad and powerless. He had always been strong of mind and in control. Sam was just staying out of the way and saying nothing.

  The police could find nothing to link James to Ben but they strongly suspected that James Russell had been behind the wheel of the car that killed him.

  They knew that James had been drinking heavily that evening. They didn’t believe his story of the car being stolen. He hadn’t asked about its condition when in was found or where it was found, and from their records they knew he hadn’t notified his insurers of the theft. Nothing had been stolen from the vehicle because nothing of any value had been left inside it.

  The CCTV footage recovered from the train station near where his car was found showed a man that could easily be James Russell but it was so grainy and without more proof would be thrown out in court. The homeless man known to the force as Martin Dean wasn’t of much use either. Maybe he saw the driver and maybe he didn’t. He was correct with the colour and make of the vehicle but he was also drunk most of the time so nothing he said in court would be credible. Unless any traffic cameras clearly captured Mr Russell driving his vehicle after 5pm that evening in the area of the incident it looked like nobody would be charge for the death of Mr Benjamin Richards.

  Sam had kept very quiet but he had also been very keen to find out what was happening. He knew that James had seen him in the men’s toilets and had noticed the look of confusion on his face. Had James figured it out yet? Does he even know that he killed the wrong man? Toni had said that someone at the station thought she was called Samantha but Sam hadn’t questioned her about it in case he seemed too interested. All that planning was for nothing. Instead of inheriting his brother’s wealth he now has to attend the funeral of a man he hardly knew and to top it all the wedding was still going ahead.

  Sam had deleted all the messages on Chessbyte and closed the account. Samantha25 was gone forever, but now he couldn’t remember whether he had actually ever mentioned Mike’s Christian name in any of those messages.

  All that time and effort wasted. Mike was alive and would be married to Toni in a couple of weeks. Sam wouldn’t inherit his brother’s fortune any time soon.

  Whilst James had been recovering from his accident in hospital the police hadn’t been idle in their search for the truth. DNA and fabric samples taken from the vehicle’s broken headlight and grill had confirmed that it was indeed the car that hit and killed Benjamin Richards. Forensic specialists had been busy at the scene measuring skid marks left in the road by the tyres. From the information gathered they could work out roughly the speed at which the vehicle had been travelling. Unfortunately, heavy rainfall on the evening of the incident had destroyed much of the evidence. The homeless man, Mr Martin Dean who slept rough in a disused shop doorway 85 metres from where the body of Mr Richards was found couldn’t have had a clear view of the incident as a large lorry was parked directly in his line of vision from approximately 3.30pm on the day in question. It was the lorry driver who discovered the dead man at 10.05 that evening after stopping to pick up a bunch of flowers that he thought had been thrown away or dropped by the kerb. The loud bang that woke the witness could have been the lorry driver slamming his cab door just before he left. As for the witness saying he saw a blue car there was no actual time given for that sighting in his slurred drunken statement to the police.

  Traffic cameras that were operational in the area hadn’t given a clear view of the driver. Most hadn’t even given a clear shot of the vehicle either as the weather was too wet. Some were rain splattered while others had fogged up. CCTV images taken from business premises in the vicinity mostly focused downwards for doorway protection from intruders. Unless the police could find evidence that would hold up in court it looked like Mr James Russell would walk away a free man.

  Officer Bentley arrived at the hospital bang on 9am to see Doctor Simpson. He wasn’t going to be put off from seeing James Russell for a second time. Prints and samples were needed urgently and Bentley wasn’t in the mood to leave without them.

  Doctor Simpson greeted the officer and accompanied him upstairs to the ward that Mr Russell had been moved to for his recovery. James was struggling to sit up and eat the remains of his breakfast when Doctor Simpson and Officer Bentley entered his room. He was obviously in considerable pain but he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days.

  Without much introduction Officer Bentley opened his bag containing the sample kit first. Doctor Simpson agreed to witness the process and watched carefully as mouth swabs and fingerprints were taken then labelled and sealed in separate forensic evidence bags. Doctor Simpson read and signed the form he was handed before Bentley shook hands and left in a hurry.

  With the amount of serious crime escalating it could take several days before the results came back so Officer Bentley wasted no time getting them sent off to the lab. Fingerprints were easier and quicker as local forensic police teams could process them along with those already taken from the vehicle.

  An older more experienced nurse was sent to wipe the ink from James Russell’s fingers so he could continue eating his food. She adjusted his drip and refilled his medication. Once done she scribbled on his chart and left the room. He was glad she wasn’t the type to make small talk. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, and there were too many thoughts and images in his head for him to think clearly. He knew the police hadn’t finished with him but while he was still taking strong pain medication they wouldn’t be allowed to ask any more questions.

  Chapter Eight

  M ike was busy sorting through a pile of paperwork in his office when his PA entered to announce two police officers had arrived and wanted to see him. Mike threw down his pen and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Send them in, Pauline. Hold all my calls.”

  Officer Bentley entered with another officer and Mike made the gesture for them to be seated.

  “Nice offices you have here, Mr Fairchild. They must cost you a small fortune.”

  “What can I do for you, gentlemen? As you can see I’m up to my eyes in work and I have people to contact before
the working day is over so I’ll be glad if we can just dispense with the niceties and get down to business, cut to the chase if you will.”

  “Very well, Sir. We’ll do as you say as you’re obviously a very busy man. Firstly we haven’t been able to establish a motive for Mr Richards death. We are of the opinion that it was either an accident caused by a drunk driver who didn’t stop, or it could have been joyriders using a stolen car. That being the case we don’t think he was targeted but just in the wrong place at the wrong time so to speak.”

  “From what I’ve been told I assumed you already have a suspect who had been drinking. His car was found not far from these offices and had obviously been involved in an accident. I haven’t been told yet if the samples found on the car match that of my former partner but I’m sure you’re dealing with it.”

  “Yes, Sir, there was a match to Mr Richards plus fibres from his coat. But please understand that we are still looking for a motive while we investigate the owner of the vehicle involved.”

  “A motive? That’s twice you’ve used that word and it suggests to me that you now think it wasn’t an accident. Am I to believe this is now turning into a murder investigation?”

  “As Mr Richards partner in this firm you would be the one to benefit from his death. In other words, Mr Fairchild, you will now take total control of this company, is that correct, Sir?”

  Mike closed his eyes for a few seconds to take control of his temper that was about to explode after hearing those last words. He looked straight into the eyes of Officer Bentley before giving his answer in no uncertain terms. “Apart from Ben’s mother and father who have lost their only son in this tragic incident I actually lost a partner that I can never replace. He was also my best friend from childhood and was to be the best man at my wedding which is less than a fortnight away now. I’ve had to pull out of two new engineering contracts worth a total of 7.6 million pounds and no doubt the legal implications for breaking those contracts will cost me dearly. Ben’s parents will be very well taken care of financially from his share of the business and I will personally be responsible for the losses this company suffers. I would also have put my wedding on hold but for the fact that too many people would have their plans thrown up in the air at the last minute as the invitations were sent out some time ago. I have already cancelled my honeymoon in Hawaii because I have to be here to oversee Ben’s projects that are near completion. Both Ben and I have a motto that we’ve stuck to right from the start, on budget on time. I’ll be here working day and night if necessary and I’ll see to it that our motto holds firm. Now gentlemen, unless you have any more questions may I suggest you leave and let me get on with my work!”