He sniffed. ‘Very well, I shall continue. Now, as you will see from this list, there are a few well-known names. As such, I have not given you their private numbers. If you wish to interview them, I suggest we do it via my office. The third category is made up of people who I know had a personal grudge against Charles. There is an architect who had begun designing sets for the National Theatre, the Royal Opera House and other prominent theatre companies. He sold the basement flat to Charles, and he was bankrupted. There are also two producers and two directors who believed that Foxley destroyed their careers. I’ve done my best to produce a comprehensive list. So can I please ask you to respect not only my position, but that of the artists?’
He closed the file and passed it to Spencer as the door was gently kicked open as Rita, the blonde receptionist, carried in the tray of coffees. She placed the tray on the desk, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, with her mascara smudged.
‘Thank you, Rita,’ Myers said. ‘Can you call home to see if my babies are all right?’ He glanced at Jane. ‘I didn’t think, under the circumstances, I should have them in the office with me as I am sure it is going to be a very busy day.’
He handed Jane and Spencer their coffees.
‘Mr Myers, we really appreciate the time you’ve taken to put this list together,’ Jane said. ‘We will need to go through it and might have to ask you for additional information.’
Myers pointedly looked at his watch. ‘I want to be as helpful as possible, I really do, but at the same time, this is going to be a very difficult time. As soon as Charles’s clients hear the news of his demise, for want of a better word, I’m sure the phones won’t stop ringing.’
Jane nodded. ‘We know that Mr Foxley came into work on the Monday morning. Could you tell us if there was anything out of the ordinary about his behaviour?’
‘Well, I only saw him very briefly as I had an early morning meeting with a client. I had a few words with him, and I think he mentioned something about having Toots spayed as he felt she was coming into season. He knew I have an excellent vet.’
Jane leant forward. ‘That’s the dachshund?’
‘Yes. Apart from that I had no other conversation with him. I think he left the office in the early afternoon.’
‘Can you be more specific about the time?’ Jane asked.
‘Well, it would have been about half past one or quarter to two. He called out that he was leaving, but I was on the phone.’
‘We will need to have a list of his calls from that morning.’
‘They should be listed in his diary, or Julia, his secretary, will know.’
Spencer placed his coffee cup back on the tray. ‘Is there anyone on the list you feel we should focus on immediately?’
Myers shrugged. ‘If I were you, I would talk to his ex-wife. She is clearly a very disturbed woman. Even before the divorce, she was a complete nightmare. She can be violent and abusive. I think she has accused every single woman who works here of having a relationship with her ex-husband.’
Jane held up her hand. ‘When you say violent, can you recall any specific incidents?’
‘Oh my God, how many do you want me to tell you about? I think you should ask Laura Queen. She came back into her office one morning to find that some clothes she had left in her wardrobe had been shredded. Miss Queen often does a full day’s work, then goes straight out to a production or a premiere in the evening, so she keeps some evening wear in the office.’
‘Did Justine Harris have access to the premises at night?’ Jane asked.
‘Yes, at one time she worked here, so she would have all the security codes. I think she came here quite often.’
‘Was there animosity between Miss Queen and Justine Harris?’ Jane asked.
‘I would call it a lot more than animosity. We are very fortunate that Laura still remains with us. Any other woman, after being spoken to and threatened the way she was, would’ve joined another agency. We were forced to have a lengthy conversation with Justine, and I believe she did apologise for her behaviour. But that was always short-lived as she would then find someone else to accuse of having sexual relationships with Charles.’
Suddenly a cacophony of phone ringing began and the light on Myers’ desk started blinking. Jane and Spencer stood up.
‘Thank you for your time, Mr Myers,’ Spencer said. ‘I think we’re going to talk to Emma Ransom next.’
‘Ah, Charles’s right hand. Her office is just opposite,’ Myers said, then added, sotto voce, ‘You’ll probably find her reading Vogue.’
Jane tapped on the door, which was slightly ajar, and a voice called out, ‘Yes, come in.’
Emma Ransom was tall and slim, with a pale, not very attractive face almost devoid of make-up but with what Jane could tell was a simple but expensive haircut. Her eyes were very blue, and she looked as if she’d been crying. Her office was very different in style to Myers’, with a large glass-topped chrome table, one fawn leather desk chair and two fawn leather bucket chairs. The walls were lined with scripts, books and numerous posters and photographs. Her desk was free of any clutter, with just a large notepad, a stack of fashion magazines and two phones.
As Spencer introduced himself and Jane, Emma picked up one of the phones and pressed an intercom. ‘Rita, please hold my calls.’
As they sat down in the bucket chairs, Emma swivelled her desk chair around to face them.
‘Could you tell us if on Monday there was anything out of the ordinary about Mr Foxley’s manner?’ Spencer asked.
‘Monday mornings are always a bit hectic,’ Emma replied. ‘I had two meetings that morning and it would have been about mid-morning when I saw him in the corridor. He was carrying his dachshund and seemed annoyed. Apparently, his dog walker had refused to take her. That was the only conversation I had with him.’
She frowned and Jane wondered if she was going to start crying again.
Jane leant forward slightly. ‘I’m sure you must find this very difficult and we’ll try and make it as brief as possible. You’ve been described as Mr Foxley’s right hand?’
‘I wouldn’t exactly call myself that. I began working for him fifteen years ago, for the last five years as an agent in the company. So that means I have my own clients, mostly directors, writers and producers.’
Spencer nodded. ‘What about Mr Foxley’s clients? How many of them would you say were unsatisfied by Mr Foxley’s representation?’
She sighed. ‘That’s normal in this business, I’m afraid. Charles had an astonishing ability to spot raw talent, by that I mean he could go to an amateur production or an end-of-term production at RADA and he would know intuitively which one of these hopefuls had the potential to be a star. But once they become successful, that’s when the problems start, and they quickly go from being grateful to wanting more. That’s when dissatisfaction and even bitterness can go alongside success, and that’s when things can go wrong. Innumerable times, Charles made a star out of a nobody, and the next thing, they’re alcoholics and unable to be on a film set, and he has to start doing damage control.’
Her eyes watered as she swivelled around in her desk chair and pulled a tissue from a box.
‘I’m sorry. I’m finding this very difficult. I’m still hardly able to believe that Charles has gone, and in such a terrible way.’
Spencer nodded. ‘I do understand. If you’d rather, we can return at another time. But it would be really helpful if we could ask just a few more questions.’
She sniffed and blinked her eyes. ‘It’s fine. Go ahead.’
‘Do you know anyone who had a motive for killing Mr Foxley?’
Jane noticed that Emma’s right foot had started twitching.
‘I really can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt him. I mean, obviously we have to deal with a lot of people being disappointed – you know, an actor losing a big role, a director being fired from a film, a writer’s work being discarded. But I can’t think anyone like that would want Charles .
. . dead.’
‘What about his wife?’ Spencer asked.
Emma sat bolt upright. ‘I’m not prepared to say anything against Justine. Yes, she used to get very emotional because she still loved Charles after the divorce. She was jealous at times, but I think she was also very sad, because he was not an easy man to love.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ Jane asked.
‘Just what I said. He wasn’t an easy man. He could be annoying and devious, but at the same time he was also an astute businessman – he had to be.’
Before she could continue, Jane interrupted. ‘Was Foxley also a womaniser?’
Emma pursed her lips. ‘I suppose you could say that. He was a very attractive man and, in his position, he could be a bit of a magnet.’
‘We have to look into the possibility that he was having an affair with a married woman and there could be a jealous husband,’ Jane continued. ‘So if you know about anybody . . .’
Emma shook her head, looking fiercely at Jane. ‘I refuse to speak ill of Charles at this terrible time. You can ask other people about his sexual habits if you like, but I simply worked alongside him. And I admired him. I find this very upsetting. I don’t want to say any more.’
‘There’s just one more thing, Miss Ransom,’ Jane said. ‘I understand that Mr Foxley had an appointments diary?’
‘Yes, we all do. Most of us leave our diaries on our desks when we leave the office, in case when we are out at an appointment something needs to be checked. Charles also has a secretary who keeps a record of his appointments . . .’ She paused, then corrected herself. ‘Julia Summers was his secretary. I believe she is visiting a sick relative in Devon at the moment. I’m going to have to tell her the terrible news.’
Emma stood up and opened the office door, leaving Spencer and Jane no option but to leave. She closed the door behind them. As they passed the internal window, Jane glanced through and saw Emma plucking more tissues from the box.
The shrill sounds of phones ringing echoed down the corridor as they now headed towards Laura Queen’s office. Laura Queen was an altogether different type of woman from Emma Ransom. She was petite, with glorious, naturally curly auburn hair, perfectly made-up, wearing a flattering black dress and high-heeled Prada wedges. Her office had a large window and along the windowsill were flowering orchids. There was also an orchid in a beautiful glass bowl on her stylish, pale wood desk with drawers either side. On the opposite wall were shelves filled with books and numerous photographs of well-known actors. There was quite a high desk chair and two pale blue velvet easy chairs.
‘Please do sit down. Can I offer you a tea or a coffee?’ Laura had a sweet, soft voice.
‘We’ve already had some, thanks. And thank you for giving us your time,’ Spencer said.
Jane took over. ‘We need to ask you a few, rather personal questions about Charles Foxley. We’ve already had a great deal of help from Mr Myers, and also Miss Ransom.’
When she heard Emma’s name, Laura’s eyebrows lifted. ‘I’m surprised she looked up from her Vogue to give you any time at all,’ she said, sarcastically, then waved her hand with her long pale pink nails. ‘I’m sorry, that must sound awful, but Charles was always making a joke of it. Sometimes he would stand in the corridor outside her window and say, “My God, she’s already halfway through Tatler and it’s only ten!” But he was actually very fond of her. I was obviously deeply shocked to hear that he has been murdered – I can’t even take the reality of it in yet.’
‘Did you see him on the Monday morning?’ Jane asked.
‘Yes, he came into my office. He asked if I’d had a good weekend and I said that I’d been to an opening night and that on Sunday I had had a game of tennis at the Queen’s Club. He was quite sporty, you know, but I hated playing tennis with him because he was such a poor loser.’ She bit her lip, near to tears.
‘Did he have any enemies?’ Spencer asked.
Laura gave a light laugh. ‘You know, in this business you can accumulate an awful lot of enemies without really trying, but someone who would want to kill him? I can’t imagine that. I’m aware that Charles was a complex individual. He was a man who detested failure. Let me explain what I mean by that: if, for example, he represented a director who got the break of his life with a big American movie, and it bombed, the director would not get any sympathy from Charles. So, yes, he did acquire enemies. However, I have my own clients and in the past few years the two of us have been quite distant, so if there was any recent altercation, I wouldn’t know about it.’
‘What about his ex-wife?’ Spencer asked.
She smiled wryly. ‘I was expecting you to ask about her at some point. It’s common knowledge that Justine hated me. She believed, incorrectly, that I was having an affair with Charles. I can assure you nothing was further from the truth – it would not only have been unprofessional, but . . . he had a deviant side to him, which I found repellent.’
Spencer leant forward. ‘What exactly do you mean by that?’
Laura hesitated and started to flush, clearly wishing she hadn’t mentioned it.
Jane now took over. ‘Miss Queen, it is important that you explain what you have just said – it is obviously strictly confidential.’
Laura picked up a pencil and tapped it on the notebook in front of her.
Jane continued. ‘Was Mr Foxley having a relationship with Emma Ransom?’
Laura leant back, shaking her head with a half smile. ‘I’m afraid she is far too plain for him to even notice she was female.’
Yet again Laura appeared to be slightly embarrassed by what she had said.
‘I’m sorry, I must sound such a bitch . . . I really don’t know why I came out with that about Emma. The truth is, and I’m not the only one to be aware of this, Charles had a predilection for prostitutes – and not particularly glamorous ones; in fact, I believe he preferred obese women.’
Spencer glanced at Jane. ‘Was he into S&M?’
Laura shook her head. ‘I don’t know. Look, it’s wrong of me to repeat gossip. I think we should just stop there.’
Jane closed the notebook in which she had been jotting down notes. Spencer took this as meaning the interview was over, but actually it was an old trick Jane had learnt. Let them relax and think, just as Spencer had done, that there were no more questions.
‘Although you said you did not have a physical relationship with Mr Foxley, you had a confrontation with his ex-wife, didn’t you?’ Jane said quickly, catching Laura off-guard.
‘Jesus Christ!’ Laura pushed back her desk chair. ‘Justine is mentally unstable . . . She had accused me of having an affair with her husband on numerous occasions but she never accepted my denials. Then one time, when he had left his dachshund in my office because she was on heat, she kicked my door open. She had one of the dog leads with a chain on the end and she swung it at me. It very nearly hit me in the face. She was screaming . . . I think she was calling me a whore. I managed to get the dog lead away from her but in the scuffle she fell and hit her head against the side of my desk.’
Jane and Spencer stayed silent as Laura pulled her chair back to her desk and picked up her pencil again.
‘She wasn’t unconscious . . . thank goodness. But the entire thing had been overheard by Rita and Angie, and I don’t know who else was passing in the corridor. It was humiliating and embarrassing. I wanted to hand in my notice, but Charles persuaded me to stay. I eventually agreed on the condition that he kept his wife, or now ex-wife, under control.’
‘When did this incident take place?’ Jane asked.
‘Two years ago, perhaps more. But I would say if you’re looking for someone capable of murder, you should question the ex-Mrs Foxley.’
Spencer stood up. ‘Thank you very much for your time.’
Laura ushered them out of her office. ‘I do hope you don’t think badly of me. But I’m sure under these awful circumstances you want the truth.’
As the
door shut behind them, Spencer let out a deep sigh. ‘Bloody hell, this is a snake pit.’
‘And we’ve only just started,’ Jane added.
*
Charles Foxley’s Jaguar and Volvo were taken into the station yard. Three young forensic scientists examined the Volvo, which appeared to have been the main transport for his dogs. There were dirty blankets, dog bowls, packets of dog treats and two worn dog leads, and the interior hadn’t been cleaned for some considerable time. Numerous unidentified fingerprints were taken. In total contrast, his Jaguar was in pristine condition. They had found no bloodstains, and no evidence that anyone other than Charles Foxley had driven it. However, in the glove compartment, they found a number of parking tickets and these were taken into the incident room to have the locations checked out.
Meanwhile, DS Lawrence had returned to the murder site to continue collecting evidence. He was accompanied by three more officers who were checking through Foxley’s personal effects and had been given the authority to open the safe. They found a considerable amount of money, a few documents regarding his divorce and custody of his daughter, his will, and the mortgage deeds for his house in Barnes and the purchase of his basement flat. So far, there was no evidence that the basement flat had been broken into.
Tyler was sure Foxley had been killed by someone he knew, but so far, none of the forensic evidence had produced a significant lead or pointed them towards a suspect. They would have to wait for the post-mortem to see if that told them anything new.
CHAPTER SIX
DCI Tyler had been gowned and booted up for the last hour and a half as the post-mortem on Charles Foxley continued. One of the main conclusions that the pathologist had come to, after examining the victim’s skull, was that he was hit from behind, and this could have been the first blunt-force trauma the victim had suffered. The blow, he believed, would have knocked the victim forward, possibly to the ground, where he was then struck on the right side of the skull, and finally a lesser blow to the left. Tyler deduced from this that the attacker was already in the flat hallway when the attack began.
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