Her Final Hour

by Rachel Amphlett

  She flipped through the pages that had been flagged with scenes from the pub, pointing each one out to Drake and his solicitor.

  ‘Notice the date and time in each of these,’ she said. ‘It’s after last orders, and always on a Monday night. Noah is here, White appears at the bar here – who are the other men in the drawings, Mr Drake?’

  He leaned forward and peered at the fine lines that swept the pages. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never seen them before.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The jacket you’re wearing today, is that a favourite?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  Jan smiled. ‘Your jacket, Mr Drake. You seem fond of wearing it.’

  Mark held his breath as his colleague flipped through the sketchbook before pausing at the drawing Jessica had made during daylight hours of White and an unknown man at the bar.

  She tapped her finger on the figure of the mysterious man. Jessica had drawn him wearing a jacket with the tell-tale pattern of a dark tweed, which he was wearing with jeans.

  ‘This is you, isn’t it, Mr Drake?’

  He frowned. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Why were you talking to Nigel White three weeks before Jessica was murdered? Were you threatening him? Were you asking him to kill Jessica for you?’

  Drake gave a slight shake of his head, and folded his hands on the table.

  ‘What’s going on, Morgan?’ Mark softened his voice, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

  Jan pulled the sketchbook away, placing it back in the evidence bag and removing her gloves while Drake sat with his eyes downcast, his jaw working.

  ‘You were the one who wrote the note that was found in White’s pocket the night he was killed,’ said Mark, unable to keep the adrenalin from surging through his body. ‘Weren’t you? “I’m sorry. It’s my fault she’s dead.” What did you do, Morgan? Why is it your fault?’

  Drake let out a shaking breath, then leaned back and stared at the pitted ceiling tiles for a moment. He blinked, and then met Mark’s gaze.

  ‘Because Jessica was trying to help me,’ he said. ‘They both were. And now, they’re dead.’

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  A silence descended on interview room three, the only sound an electronic hum from the recording equipment.

  ‘I’d like a word with my client in private,’ said Bernard Peters, recovering from Drake’s statement and holding a hand up to silence the financier.

  ‘It’s okay. I want to tell them. I should’ve come to them in the first place.’ Drake ran his hands over his face before dropping them into his lap with a sigh. ‘What a bloody mess.’

  ‘We’re listening,’ said Mark. Aware that the man could change his mind if left to mull over his thoughts too long, he wanted him to keep talking – now.

  ‘It was why I wanted to offer Jessica a job working with me,’ Drake said. ‘I realised we were pushing our luck. White tried to get her a job at the yard, but Adams only offered her a few hours on a Saturday morning – it wasn’t enough, not with her plans to travel once she’d finished her studies. She refused to give up her job at the pub.’

  ‘Start at the beginning, Morgan,’ said Jan. ‘What’s going on at the pub? Why did you want her to stop working there?’

  Drake rubbed his hands together, hunched on his chair. ‘I’ve had my suspicions about the way Noah and Sonia have been running the Farriers Arms for some time. It might be their name above the door, Detective West, but it’s my reputation on the line if they’re caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing.’

  ‘So, you thought you’d carry out your own investigation, is that it?’

  The man nodded, and picked at a loose thread on his shirt cuff. ‘Yes.’

  ‘What were your suspicions?’ said Jan.

  ‘At first, I thought they might be siphoning off profit from the business – you know, a little bit here and there from the till, or something like that.’ He choked out a laugh. ‘God, I wish it had been.’

  ‘When did you start investigating?’

  ‘About six months ago, but I could only go there on the way home from work – it was obvious after a few weeks that nothing was going on. Jessica wandered over to where I was sitting one night, and asked if she could have a word in private, but away from the pub. I think she latched on that I was spending more time in the Farriers than usual. We met the next day in town when she was between classes, and she asked outright what I was doing.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t know, I just knew I could trust her, so I said I had some concerns about Noah and Sonia, and that’s when she told me.’

  ‘Told you what?’ said Mark.

  ‘About the illegal poker tournaments they run in the pub on Monday nights.’

  ‘Poker?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How much money are we talking about?’

  ‘Thousands. Every week. And that’s on top of what they’re charging people to play.’

  ‘How many players are there?’ said Jan.

  ‘About half a dozen. Noah keeps a tight operation – invite only.’

  ‘And so you decided to take advantage of Jessica and put her in danger,’ said Mark.

  ‘No – that’s not what happened at all. She offered to help me. She was scared – Noah and Sonia had told her they trusted her, and they knew she’d want the extra hours to pay for her trip, so they told her to work late on Mondays so she could run the bar while Noah played poker. She wanted to quit, but was worried what they’d do to her if she did.’ His face crumpled. ‘She knew too much.’

  ‘How did Nigel White get involved?’ said Jan.

  ‘He did some odd jobs over at my house about four months ago, rebuilding the fencing around the paddock, things like that. He mentioned in passing that he didn’t want to cause trouble, but that he felt something had changed in the last year at the Farriers, and wanted to raise his concerns with me. The stable lads love the pub – they’re always in there, and it used to be the case that there’d be an occasional lock-in. If they weren’t racing the next day, most of them would stay.’ He held up his hands. ‘I know that’s not legal, but––’

  ‘Go on,’ said Mark, waving away his explanation.

  ‘When I told him I thought there was an illegal poker syndicate being run from there, he offered to help. He wasn’t like the lads who ride out with the horses, you see – he didn’t have to be up as early the next day, even though he did sometimes out of habit, so he could stay late. He said he just wanted the pub back to how it used to be. He said that Noah and Sonia were starting to alienate the locals and not making them feel welcome anymore. It was terrible for the business, and I realised if I didn’t do something about it, they’d run the actual pub side of things into the ground. Nigel told me he’d played a bit of poker in his time, and I agreed to finance him.’

  ‘How did he manage to convince Noah to let him into the syndicate?’ said Mark.

  ‘He and Jessica started a rumour in the pub that he’d inherited some money. Not as much as Dominic Millar, but enough that he wanted to have some fun and a bit of a splurge with it. Jessica made sure Noah was within earshot when they were discussing it, and made a big deal about the fact Nigel didn’t want Adams to find out, because he still wanted to keep his job there. It only took a week before Noah approached him one Monday night – this was about two and a half months ago – and asked if he’d like to join the syndicate.’

  ‘Did you provide him with the funds to take part?’

  ‘Yes. He wouldn’t have been able to play otherwise. Plus, he needed to learn how to play properly, so I funded that as well.’

  ‘We found some online gaming sites on his laptop.’

  ‘It was the safest way for him to learn,’ said Drake. ‘I needed him to be good enough to be invited to play the higher stakes’ games at the Farriers Arms.’

  ‘What went wrong?’ said Jan.

  ‘Oh, God.’ Drake ran a hand over his head, and then leaned fo
rward on his elbows. ‘When we found out that Jessica had been killed, Nigel was inconsolable. He blamed himself for her death. He was convinced it was his fault that she’d overheard him talking with Collins about raising the stakes on the poker games to make them more lucrative, and that she didn’t realise it was a ruse to gather more evidence. If Noah had offered higher stakes, I thought I could get a friend from the City to contact them and start taking names.’ A sardonic smile twisted his mouth. ‘White was allowed to play, but it was evident the other players only tolerated him. Wrong class, you see.’

  ‘So, what happened when Jessica overheard White talking to Noah?’

  The financier sniffed. ‘She was only a few years older than my daughter.’

  ‘What happened, Morgan?’ said Mark, his patience snapping.

  ‘Jessica confronted him outside the pub when he stepped out the back for a cigarette between games. He said they had a blazing row, but he eventually told her what he’d been doing. He managed to calm her down, and get her back into the pub. About ten minutes later, Noah announced he was closing down the game for the night. He said he’d received an anonymous tip-off that there was a police patrol in the area and he didn’t want to risk an ad hoc visit. I think Nigel realised soon afterwards that it was all a ruse and that he and Jessica had been overheard – either by Noah, or by Sonia. He said he was planning on coming to see me Tuesday morning to tell me to come to the police, to tell you what was going on because it had gone too far.’

  ‘So, White left the pub at what––’

  ‘About twelve-fifteen, along with all the other players.’

  ‘Where was Jessica at that time?’

  ‘She offered to stay behind, to help clear up. No-one saw her again after that.’

  ‘What about this note, then? The one that was found in Nigel’s pocket?’

  ‘I still owed him four hundred pounds from the poker tournament the previous week, and I wanted to talk to him, to tell him how sorry I was about Jess. When I got to the cottage on Wednesday afternoon, he wasn’t there so I left a note with the cash in an envelope with his name on it and posted it through the letterbox. I wanted to let him know it was all my fault, that I should never have put them in such a dangerous position.’

  ‘Morgan, are you accusing Noah and Sonia Collins of murdering both Jessica Marley and Nigel White?’

  The financier leaned back in his seat and glanced at his solicitor, then back to Mark.

  ‘Yes, detective. That’s exactly what I’m doing.’

  ‘Why didn’t you raise your concerns with us before now? Such as when Jessica was killed? Before Nigel White was murdered?’

  ‘I was scared,’ said Drake, his voice shaking. ‘I couldn’t risk making an accusation without knowing I was right – I have a young daughter. What are the chances that they’d harm her if I’d come to you? You’ve seen what they’re capable of doing.’

  Chapter Fifty

  Kennedy turned his ballpoint pen between his fingers as Jan provided a précis of the interview with Morgan Drake, his face twisted in consternation.

  When she had finished, he dropped the pen to his desk and eyed her, then Turpin before speaking.

  ‘Does he have any idea how they’ve managed to get away with it for so long?’

  ‘It’s a closed group,’ said Jan. ‘Noah limits it to about six players, and he doesn’t start the first match until close to midnight – if there are any locals who leave after last orders, it can take a while for them to drift away.’

  ‘What about the players?’

  ‘White told Drake that they stayed away until about fifteen minutes before the first game was due to start. Noah never let anyone turn up early and hang around, because otherwise the locals would expect a lock-in. Once White was invited to play, he had to hang around outside the back of the pub until Sonia gave him the all-clear.’

  ‘Notwithstanding the late time-keeping, how certain is Drake that these poker games are illegal?’

  ‘Each player is charged a participation fee of a couple hundred quid, and the stakes are higher than allowed under the 2005 Gambling Act,’ said Jan. ‘Drake said that Jessica reckoned there were some nights where people were taking home nearly twelve thousand pounds.’

  ‘We checked after talking with him, and there’s no record of Noah and Sonia Collins applying for a gaming licence from the council either,’ said Turpin.

  ‘If he wasn’t smart enough to tell us in the beginning about his suspicions, why the bloody hell didn’t he think of reporting it to the Gaming Commission?’

  ‘He tried,’ said Jan, ‘but they’re understaffed and don’t have the resources to investigate every incident that’s reported to them. He phoned up to give them an anonymous tip, but nothing happened. He says that’s why he decided to gather enough evidence together to bring it to the police so he’d be taken seriously.’

  ‘F––’ Kennedy banged his fist on the desk, then shoved his chair backwards, making Jan jump in her seat. ‘And now we have a dead teenager and another murder to deal with, all because he decided to play vigilante…’

  ‘Guv, even if he did report it to us, what would have happened?’ said Turpin. ‘We would’ve sent uniform around there with the licensing authority to warn them, perhaps give them a fine. With the sort of money that we’re led to believe has been changing hands, chances are they wouldn’t have stopped. They’d have found somewhere else to set up.’

  ‘Or simply carried on at the Farriers and changed their game schedule to one that wasn’t routine,’ said Jan. ‘Given what we’ve learned from Drake, I don’t think Noah and Sonia would have stopped. They’re earning too much from it.’

  ‘Which in turn gives them plenty of motive,’ said Turpin.

  Kennedy rubbed the back of his neck as he paced behind the desk. ‘Do you think he’s right? Do you think they’re capable of killing two people to protect their sideline?’

  Jan glanced at her colleague, then back to the DI. ‘Yes, guv. I do. I think all along we’ve been thinking we’re looking for one killer, when in fact we might have two.’

  ‘And they have the means,’ said Turpin. ‘Drake has stated that White told him that Noah sent everyone home early that night – everyone except Jessica, because he thought they’d been overheard while arguing outside. Noah could’ve lulled Jessica into thinking they’d got away with it under the pretence of telling them he’d received an anonymous tip-off about a passing police patrol car, sent her home after clearing up as usual, and then followed her.’

  ‘Why take her up to the gallops though?’

  ‘The land belongs to Morgan Drake,’ said Jan. ‘Not only would it send him a message – if they suspected he was sniffing around – but it also served to make sure Nigel White kept his mouth shut in future. Perhaps they told the other players, too, in order to guarantee their silence.’

  ‘Apart from Morgan Drake’s statement, what evidence do we have to support these accusations?’ said Kennedy. ‘Was he able to identify anyone in those drawings?’

  ‘No,’ said Turpin.

  ‘We have no other suspects, guv,’ said Jan. ‘And out of everything we’ve investigated these past two weeks, this is the closest we’ve come to understanding the motive behind the two murders.’

  The DI drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment. ‘All right. Based on what we’ve got to hand, I agree we need to bring in Noah and Sonia Collins for questioning. I don’t want arrests made until we can corroborate what they have to say for themselves in relation to what Drake is accusing them of. For all we know, he could be our killer and he’s deflecting the blame. Where is he at the moment?’

  ‘On his way home, guv,’ said Jan. ‘We didn’t have anything to charge him with…’

  ‘Apart from stupidity––’

  She shrugged. ‘We’ve asked him to make himself available for further questioning, and told him to stay away from the Farriers Arms until we’ve concluded our enquiries.’

  ‘Guv? Despite a
ny misgivings we might have about his motive in telling us about Noah and Sonia Collins, he seemed genuinely concerned for his family, particularly his daughter,’ said Turpin. ‘Any chance we could have uniform keep an eye on the house? Perhaps as part of a local patrol or something so as not to draw attention to the fact he’s under our watch?’

  ‘Do you think Noah or his wife would try to harm them?’ said Kennedy.

  ‘If we don’t get to them before they hear about him talking to us, then possibly. If he’s telling the truth, then they’ve already killed two people to keep their scheme a secret. He’s the only one who’s made the connection between the two murders and the pub, and if he hadn’t mentioned the illegal poker games, we might never have found out. On the other hand, if he is the killer, then we don’t want him disappearing while we’re talking to Noah and Sonia.’

  ‘Okay, then do it first thing in the morning before the pub opens. Have Alex speak to someone in the control room upstairs to coordinate the patrols, and flag his car details on the Automatic Number Plate Recognition system in case he does decide to run away. Who are you taking with you to pick up Noah and Sonia Collins?’

  Jan pushed her chair back and straightened her jacket. ‘The biggest two constables we can find, guv. Noah Collins is built like a rugby player.’

  Chapter Fifty-One

  A fine mist clung to hedgerows and overhanging tree branches as Turpin guided the pool car along the narrow lane into Harton Wick.

  Half past six, a countryside quietened by a darkness contemplating dawn, and only the sound of tyres on tarmac breaking the silence.

  Metres ahead, brake lights flared when a second unmarked police vehicle approached the speed limit signs into the village, and Turpin changed gears as he followed suit.

  Cold air seeped through the door seal beside Jan, and she reached forward to adjust the heat settings before shuffling in her seat, her jaw set.