An Eye for an Eye (Detective Kate Young)

by Carol Wyer

  Too close! The bus filled her windscreen. Stop! She stabbed her brake pedal and immediately fell back from the vehicle. Mercifully, there was nobody behind her. Shit! She inhaled deeply and blew out through pursed lips and repeated the action twice more, regaining control. It had been a close shave.

  She turned at the top of the hill, wiped sweaty palms on her trousers, and composed herself. Within minutes she’d pulled up to the Chapmans’ house and was pressing the intercom on the gatepost for access. The dogs barked furiously, eager to see off the intruder. A piercing whistle sent them scurrying back towards the house and then there was a tired groan and whirring as the gates opened for her to enter.

  Bradley, in dark jogging bottoms and a tight-fitting T-shirt revealing muscular biceps and a thick-set neck, let her into the house. ‘You found Alex’s killer already?’

  ‘Not yet, sir. I’d like a few words with Fiona again, please.’

  He gave a quiet grunt and left her standing in the hallway while he went to fetch his daughter. Kate turned at a tinkling behind her. Gwen Chapman, in a cotton dressing gown that swamped her slight frame, was stirring a mug with a spoon.

  ‘It’s been such a terrible shock to the boys, and to us all,’ she said, her voice so faint Kate struggled to catch her words. Gwen must have been at least a decade older than her husband and at one stage a striking woman. She still had plump, soft lips, which Fiona had inherited, and similar eyes, the colour of a clear sky on a perfect summer day. However, unlike Fiona, her cheeks had sunk with age, emphasising razor-sharp bones and lengthening her face.

  Kate had no comfort to offer. It would take a long while for the scars of such a loss to heal.

  ‘They were considering splitting up,’ said Gwen, absent-mindedly. ‘I told Fiona to think long and hard before making such a decision, because it would be difficult for the boys without a father around. I’ve seen what a messy divorce can do to families and I didn’t want them to have to go through such an ordeal. Now look what’s happened.’

  ‘What’s happened?’ Bradley was at the bottom of the stairs, moving swiftly towards his wife.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You feeling better?’ he asked, putting an arm around her shoulder.

  She shrugged it off. ‘No, not especially, but it isn’t about me, is it?’ With that, she wandered back into the kitchen.

  ‘Fiona’s on her way down,’ he said, and trailed after his wife, shutting the door behind him. Kate glanced about the hallway, eyes falling on the rustic console table near the door and a photograph of the Chapmans: Bradley in military dress and Gwen resplendent in a russet silk dress that clung to her frame and with blonde hair piled high on her head. There were two other photos: one of the entire family, including the children, and one of Fiona and Alex’s wedding, taken on a beach. They stood under an archway of brilliant orange and yellow flowers with an impossibly aquamarine sea glistening behind them; Alex in a white morning suit and Fiona in a divine pearl-covered strapless dress beamed at each other and held hands. Kate thought their love was almost tangible.

  ‘Made for each other,’ said a voice behind her.

  Kate turned slowly. Lilac semicircles hung below Fiona’s eyes and she sighed heavily as she tugged the silk tie of the ill-fitting dressing gown more tightly around her narrow waist.

  Fiona nodded in the direction of the first photograph. ‘They’ll be celebrating their forty-third wedding anniversary in September. My mum’s,’ she said of the garment, tying the belt into a knot to prevent it from slipping.

  ‘I’m sorry to disturb you so early.’

  ‘S’okay. Couldn’t sleep anyway. The boys were restless all night and Dad keeps checking in on me every five minutes to see if I’m all right.’

  ‘I need to ask some personal questions about you and Alex.’ Kate’s eyebrows rose in apology.

  Fiona didn’t flinch. She moved towards the nearest door, opened it and gestured for Kate to join her. ‘Best go in here.’

  The room was simply furnished but had a homely familiar scent: a mixture of leather and polish. The smell was reminiscent of her father’s study – a converted dining room they’d never used for eating where Kate had spent many an occasion curled up reading in one of the battered leather chairs while he worked at his desk.

  ‘What do you want to ask me?’

  ‘I’m afraid a serious allegation has been lodged against your husband. He’s been accused of rape.’

  Fiona’s lips twitched and she let out a noise: a combination of a laugh and a snort.

  ‘As I said, it’s a serious allegation and we’re looking to see if it’s linked to his death.’

  Fiona folded her arms, the diamond engagement ring on display. ‘Impossible.’

  ‘It’s natural you’d want to defend him, but we have to take it seriously.’

  ‘Who? Who told you my husband assaulted her?’

  Kate shook her head. ‘We can’t divulge that information at present.’

  ‘Well, you tell whoever it is they’re a lying, twisted fuck-up.’ Fiona’s cheeks flushed pink in anger.

  ‘The person concerned is insistent that her version of events is true.’

  ‘Bitch! Fancy doing this to him, to us. He’s dead and she’s making wild claims like this. It’s impossible. A month after he turned sixty, Alex stopped getting erections. The doctor explained it was age-related: testosterone levels can drop dramatically in older men when they reach a certain age, which affects not only sexual performance but also mood. At first we persisted, but it became such an issue for him he preferred not to try. I suggested Viagra, but he wasn’t willing to take drugs. Alex wouldn’t even take pills for headaches or flu. He claimed nature had a way of dealing with everything. He was completely anti-medication. Alex had erectile dysfunction. He couldn’t have raped her.’

  ‘And you’re sure this problem couldn’t have been . . .’ Kate hesitated. ‘Particular to you? To your relationship?’

  ‘Definitely not. He wanted to . . . He couldn’t. And anyway, he wouldn’t cheat on me and he’d never assault anyone.’

  ‘I appreciate you being so forthright about this.’

  ‘I won’t have some heartless cow bandying such utter bullshit. I’ll give you the contact details of our doctor. I’ll even ring him and tell him he can break patient confidentiality or whatever it is to talk to you. He’ll confirm what I’ve told you. Alex couldn’t get it up, no matter what he tried.’

  ‘Your mother said you were thinking of splitting up. Was that because of the sexual problems?’

  The words came out slowly. ‘I was struggling. We hadn’t had a physical relationship for over eighteen months and it was business, business, business with Alex. So, yes, I mentioned to Mum I was thinking of leaving him. If only he’d come to France, we might have saved our marriage. More importantly, he’d be here today and my boys would still have their father.’ She excused herself and, pulling a tissue from the pocket in the gown, blew her nose. She blinked away tears before resuming. ‘Whatever’s been said about Alex is untrue. He was a good man.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Kate had all the information she required for the moment. Fiona’s parting words were earnest. ‘Please find out who murdered my husband, and don’t let this woman ruin his reputation. He prided himself on his reputation.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SATURDAY, 5 JUNE – MORNING

  Morgan was waiting for Kate and caught her as soon as she appeared in the office.

  ‘I found this on Lisa’s laptop.’

  Kate stared at the photograph before releasing a hiss of irritation. Lisa had used an application to alter it, removing Fiona from the picture and superimposing a picture of herself, dressed in white with a matching white headband, on to the image instead. Now it looked like Alex was reaching out for Lisa’s hand as both stood under the floral arch in the very wedding photo Kate had seen in Fiona’s parents’ house.

  ‘There are other photos of him – lots of photos. She must have been sta
lking him for quite some time. There are pictures of him in his car, on his phone, outside the building, talking to other people. She was obsessed with him.’

  ‘So the bloody woman’s been lying to us again! The more we dig into this, the less convinced I am about this rape accusation, although he might still have assaulted her. Fiona Corby is positive Alex couldn’t have done it because he suffered from erectile dysfunction. Find out who Lisa was last living with – the guy who got jealous about Alex being her boss – and see if he can give us any more insight into her. Chat with her friend Sam, too. I don’t want us to get too sidelined here, but we ought to work out if she could have been involved in his murder.’

  Emma chose that moment to bustle into the office. ‘I had no joy speaking to all the vehicle owners who were in the area between 10.30 a.m. and 2 p.m. on Thursday, so I went through the footage from the camera at the bottom of the B5013 on the off-chance I’d spy something, and I did. I picked out a cyclist wearing a Bramshall Cycling Club custom-made top who was on that stretch of road, so I contacted the club and got his name – Kyle Jameson. I actually know him. We met at an Ironman event. He’s downstairs in interview room B, and he’s got something you might want to see – actual photos of a vehicle – a white Mini – turning into Lea Lane Thursday morning.’

  ‘I’d definitely like to talk to him.’

  Kate shadowed Emma down the stairs and into the room. Kyle was like every keen cyclist she’d ever seen – lean, thin-faced and long-legged.

  He jumped to his feet when she entered. ‘Kyle Jameson,’ he said, pumping her hand.

  ‘DI Young. I understand you have some photographs we might find useful.’ She motioned for him to be seated and he folded on to the chair.

  ‘That’s right. I was aware there’d been a car behind me for a while and I waved it past, but it didn’t overtake so I glanced around and saw it turn into Lea Lane. I always ride with a GoPro camera on my helmet so I can upload videos to my YouTube channel. Emma asked if I could download any photographs of the car from the footage, and I have. Here they are.’

  He spread out three slightly blurred photographs of the side of the vehicle in question. He’d only managed to capture the back left-hand side of the car and no number plate or driver were visible, but there was a distinctive red, white and blue flash exactly like the one she’d seen on the Mini belonging to Bradley Chapman’s driving school – BKC Driving Tuition. The date and time were stamped in the top-left-hand corner – 3 June 11.30 a.m.

  ‘The footage drags on because I filmed the entire route, but I emailed it over to Emma anyway.’

  ‘Thank you. Did you happen to see the driver at all?’

  ‘No. Sorry.’

  ‘No matter. This is most helpful, and there might be something on the footage we’ve missed.’

  ‘My pleasure. Is that everything?’

  ‘For the moment, and thank you.’ Kate stood up, and he bounced to his feet.

  ‘You not doing the Ironman this year, Emma?’ he asked.

  ‘Not had a chance to train seriously,’ she replied.

  He gave her a wink. ‘If ever you need a cycling buddy—’

  ‘I’ll be sure to give you a ring.’

  Back in the office, the team studied the pictures together. Morgan pulled out his notebook and ran through Bradley’s movements for Thursday morning. ‘He walked the dogs, then took out his first pupil, Sierra Monroe, at ten for an hour’s lesson. After that, he went to Brown’s Café in Lichfield, and left at one o’clock to reach Cannock in time to pick up Charles Seagar for his lesson at one thirty. We confirmed pick-up and drop-off times with all of his pupils.’

  ‘Remind me where Sierra Monroe lives,’ said Kate.

  ‘Yeatsall Road, Abbots Bromley. It’s the road that skirts around the back of Abbots Bromley and is literally two minutes away from the reservoir.’

  Kate scratched at her cheek. Bradley had been very close indeed to Alex’s home. It was unlikely he’d have finished the lesson bang on eleven o’clock and raced off immediately. He might have wanted to discuss the session with his pupil, maybe arrange another, and then he had to switch seats again before departing. The timing worked. There was only one thing for it. ‘We’ll talk to him again.’

  ‘Just for information, I couldn’t find Lisa’s car anywhere on surveillance footage to corroborate her claims,’ said Emma.

  ‘Lisa said she took back lanes and there aren’t any cameras on those, as we know,’ said Morgan.

  Emma pulled a face. ‘I know, but I’d have thought her car would have been caught on camera along the B5013, where I spotted Kyle. She can’t have avoided it, unless she went a circuitous route, and that makes no sense. Why not go the more direct way?’

  Kate appreciated her officers’ diligence. ‘I agree. Keep hunting.’ The discussion was interrupted by her mobile, and a sonorous voice that would be perfect for a late-night radio show announced he was Digby Poole. He apologised for being unavailable sooner, and arranged to meet Kate at his office in Stone within the hour.

  Digby Poole undid the top button of his shirt and tugged at the knot in his mauve tie, loosening it with podgy fingers. Once his neck freed, he stretched it from side to side before resting his forearms on the desk and looking Kate in the eye. An angry rash rising up his throat accentuated his florid complexion, and the yellow sclera of his eyes hinted at a man with underlying health problems. ‘I won’t beat about the bush. The fact is, Alex’s secretary Lisa was threatening to ruin his reputation by claiming he’d raped her. Naturally, Alex denied the allegation, and I totally believed him. In my opinion, the woman is clearly unhinged.’

  Kate wasn’t going to accept the opinion of a work colleague who only knew the man in a business sense. ‘How can you be so certain?’

  He pressed his fingers together so hard their tips turned white. His voice was soothing, melodic, and his gaze never left Kate’s. ‘He wasn’t remotely interested in Lisa, or any other woman, for that matter. Alex had one love and one mistress in his life – Fiona and the business. There was no room for another, and absolutely no way on this planet would he ruin his reputation, certainly not by forcing an employee to have sex with him.’

  ‘You said he and Fiona were happily married, but Fiona suggested they had a few problems.’

  ‘None I knew about.’

  ‘Did Alex never mention the possibility Fiona might leave him?’

  He shook his head slowly. ‘Fiona adored Alex and she loved the lifestyle that came with being Mrs Corby. Besides, she signed a prenuptial agreement, relinquishing all monies and any claim to Corby International in the event of a divorce, so I think it was highly unlikely she’d have upped and left.’

  ‘What did Alex tell you happened between him and Lisa?’

  ‘Early Tuesday afternoon, Alex received the phone call he’d been waiting for regarding the India contract. He was told it was ready and would be with him the next day or two. Shortly afterwards, Lisa appeared with a bottle of wine. She seemed eager to toast the success and he didn’t want to be standoffish with her, so he uncorked it and offered her a glass. She accepted and raised a glass to the new contract. Alex said she seemed unusually verbose and rabbited on about a brother in New Zealand and her mother’s guest house in Cornwall, and then, out of the blue, she said she knew the real reason he’d invited her to drink with him, and she was more than happy to oblige. She unbuttoned her blouse and made a move to kiss him.

  ‘He blocked the move and told her to do up her blouse. He suspected she’d already had a few drinks, because this was way out of character for her. She turned on him and accused him of leading her on.’ He rolled his eyes at the thought. ‘Anyway, Alex told her it was all in her imagination and suggested it’d be a good idea if she transferred to a different department. Apparently, all hell broke loose at that point and she threatened to tell the papers he’d raped her, to sully his name and make sure everyone knew what a cheat and liar he was.’

  ‘What advice did you
give him?’

  ‘Firstly, I told him not to worry – after all, she couldn’t harm him with empty threats. If she’d actually gone to the police or the newspapers shouting the odds, she’d have needed substantial proof – DNA, evidence of having been attacked – and she had absolutely nothing. Alex hadn’t laid a finger on her other than to push her away from him. I suggested he arrange a meeting with her and myself, to discuss the matter and come to some arrangement with her. She was blowing hot air. She’d never have carried it out, but if she had, I was prepared to battle it out and clear Alex’s name. I convinced him he had little to worry about and suggested he stay out of her way for a day or two and let her calm down.’

  ‘Were you surprised by what happened?’

  He cocked his head to one side. ‘I suspected she had a crush on Alex. During our meetings, she’d invariably have her eye on him, and she always give him a fawning look whenever he asked her to do anything. No. I’m not surprised, only about the fact she screwed up the courage to throw herself at him.’

  His secretary rang through to say his first appointment had arrived, and he excused himself with a final protestation. ‘Alex did not rape or harm or even touch Lisa. I can promise you that. I hope you find his killer. He was an honest man.’

  Kate retreated from the office, her mind exploding with unanswered questions. Overshadowing most of them was one major concern: if Digby’s version of events was correct and Lisa had threatened Alex, and then lied not once, but twice to Kate, what else was the woman capable of? Was she unstable or angry enough at his rejection to have killed Alex? Then again, there was Tilly’s gentle advice to be kind to Lisa. Both these successful men had been in positions of power over her. They could have deliberately concocted their own version of events so it would be their word against hers. There was still a chance Lisa was telling the truth.