The Clifftop Murders (Dorset Crime Book 2)

by Rachel McLean

  “OK,” said Lesley. “So why isn’t he telling me everything?”

  Elsa shook her head. “I don’t want to discuss this with you. If you want to talk to me, you come to the office and you do it officially.”

  Lesley shrank back in her stool. “I’m not trying to put you in a difficult position, El. I just want to find out what I can about Ameena. What if someone else in your firm is in danger? What if you’re in danger?”

  Elsa scoffed. “You don’t need to be the knight in shining armour, Lesley. I know you’re a copper, but I can handle myself.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant.”

  Elsa grunted. She turned away, rearranging glasses on the shelves behind her. She looked over her shoulder at Lesley’s glass.

  “You’ve finished your drink?” she said.

  Lesley pushed the glass towards Elsa, expecting her to refill it.

  Elsa shook her head. “I think it’s best if you went home. I’m sure you’ve got a bottle of red in your kitchen somewhere.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lesley stood inside the door to her office, surveying her team. They were gathered around her desk, waiting for her to speak. Dennis had taken one of the chairs opposite her own, and Johnny had insisted on offering Tina the other. Lesley could tell by the look on Tina’s face that she found this not chivalrous, as Johnny would have been hoping, but patronising. Tina was ten years younger than Johnny, and no more in need of a seat than he was.

  Mike and Johnny hovered either side of the two chairs, both reluctant to take Lesley’s chair on the other side of the desk. Lesley, instead of taking her usual place, stayed by the door, keen to get a different perspective. She was closer to the board, and standing up kept her alert.

  “OK,” she said, “Where are we?”

  Tina shifted her chair round to get a better view of the board and of Lesley. “I’ve looked into Ameena’s case files, the ones they sent us and the ones they didn’t.”

  “You managed to get files on the Steven Leonard case?” Lesley asked.

  Tina nodded. “Not from his solicitors. But I’ve got the police file. I spoke to the DS in Bournemouth CID who dealt with the case.”

  “Nice one. And?” Lesley asked.

  “It was a straightforward possession with intent to supply case. He pleaded guilty, went before the magistrate, got a fine.”

  “Fine?” Lesley asked. “Was it a first offence?”

  “Far from it. He’s got a history of periodic arrests.”

  “So Ameena did a deal with the CPS. She was good at her job.”

  Dennis looked up. “He had five hundred tablets.”

  Lesley looked from him to Tina. “How did she manage that?”

  “I’ll follow it up.”

  “Do that,” Lesley said, “We need to find out what happened. Who was the magistrate?”

  Tina poked out her tongue and wrote in her notepad. “Maybe he wasn’t happy cos she told him to plead guilty?”

  “Guy with plenty of previous, I’d doubt it,” said Lesley. “And if she did talk him into the deal… Then he should have been thanking her for it, it’s a damn good deal for what he was caught with.”

  Dennis raised an eyebrow.

  “Sorry, Dennis,” she muttered. “I don’t see how a client with multiple offences who got a fine for supply of drugs could be even the slightest bit annoyed.”

  Johnny shook his head. Mike shrugged.

  “Follow it up,” Lesley replied, looking at Tina. “It smells a bit off to me.”

  “Will do.”

  “OK, so then we’ve got the forensics.” Lesley walked to the board and grabbed the marker pen. She pointed to the two photographs Gail had added. One showed Ameena’s fingernails, traces of skin caught under them. The other was the photo of the hand from Ameena’s camera.

  “Either of these could lead to the killer,” Lesley said. “We’ll have his DNA from the skin under her nails, and if we can enhance the photo, we might be able to get fingerprints.”

  “The DNA analysis could take a few days,” said Dennis. “The lab has limited capacity.”

  Lesley sighed. She knew better than to ask for it to be fast tracked.

  “Make sure I know as soon as it comes back. Run it against the database.”

  “If the killer isn’t on the system…” Dennis said.

  “Let’s be optimistic,” Lesley replied. “We’ll assume that it will lead us somewhere, and in the meantime, we’ve got that hand. Gail’s already onto the digital forensics team to see if they can get us a better image. Is he wearing a ring?”

  Mike approached the board. He squinted at the photo. “There’s a bulge on the ring finger,” he said. “Could be a ring, but then if it’s a wedding ring, it won’t tell us much.”

  Lesley shook her head. “That’s a right hand. The knuckles are visible, and the thumb is on the left. If it is a ring, it won’t be a wedding ring. If it’s distinctive, it might help us.”

  Mike nodded. “I can follow it up, if you’d like.”

  Lesley shook her head, “Gail’s already on it. I want you to come with me, speak to the PA.”

  “Maybe she’ll know why Leonard got such a lenient sentence,” Tina suggested.

  Lesley turned to her, “Good point. I need her address, personal phone number. We’ll talk to her outside work.”

  “On it, boss,” Tina replied.

  Lesley smiled, glad she’d brought Tina into the team. “Thanks, Tina. You find out where she lives, and Mike and I’ll go and speak to her.”

  “OK.”

  “In fact, no,” Lesley said. “Tina, you’ve got enough to do with the case files. Mike, you get her address.”

  He nodded.

  “So that leaves Harry Nevin and the other partners. I want to follow up with them, see their reaction when we ask about Steven Leonard. I want to know why they haven’t told us the whole truth, and what’s still missing.”

  “Cross and Short,” said Dennis. “Aurelia Cross and Elsa Short.” He avoided Lesley’s eye.

  “Why weren’t they there yesterday?” Lesley asked. She could hazard a guess as to why Elsa had been absent, but Aurelia Cross?

  Dennis shrugged, his gaze on the board. “In court, perhaps?”

  “We need to talk to them as well.”

  Lesley thought of the conversation she’d had with Elsa the previous night. She should declare a personal interest. But her relationship with Elsa hadn’t got to that stage yet, had it?

  She took a breath. If she hid this, it could backfire. “I know one of them.”

  Dennis raised an eyebrow. “The partners?”

  She met his gaze. He was looking at her in that way people have when they’re trying to look natural but are failing. “Elsa Short. She works in my local pub.”

  “Can’t be the same woman,” Johnny said. “What lawyer moonlights behind a bar?”

  Lesley slid her wedding ring up and down her finger. She was still wearing it, despite everything. “Her brother’s the landlord. She helps him out. We’ve become friends.”

  “If none of us investigated people we knew from the pub, we’d never get any work done,” said Dennis. “It’s not a problem.”

  “I didn’t think you were much of a pub-goer,” said Lesley.

  “Then you’d be wrong.”

  She raised an eyebrow. Dennis might like the pub, but she knew he wasn’t a big drinker. “Still, I’d rather someone else interviewed her. I don’t want any allegations of bias.”

  Dennis shrugged. “I can talk to her, if you want to talk to Aurelia Cross.”

  “No. You take Johnny with you to Nevin, Cross and Short. Talk to Cross and Short. I want to know their take on what’s happened. See if they’ll tell us anything Harry Nevin didn’t – and ask them what they knew about Steven Leonard.”

  “Fair enough,” said Dennis. He stood up. “Let’s get on with it.”

  Lesley nodded. Finally, the man wasn’t dawdling.

  Chapter Sixteen
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  Dennis and Johnny drove in silence towards Bournemouth. As they approached the outskirts of the town, Johnny cleared his throat.

  “Nevin, Cross and Short,” he said, “Have you had many dealings with them, Sarge?”

  Dennis glanced in his rear-view mirror. A lorry loomed behind, waiting to overtake. He slowed to let it pass, and then focused on the road as he spoke to Johnny.

  “I’ve come across Aurelia Cross a few times, she seems to deal with most of their small time criminal cases. Not sure about the other two. I think the DCI dealt with Nevin.”

  “I got the feeling yesterday was the first time she’d met him.”

  Dennis tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Not that DCI, Johnny. DCI Mackie.”

  “Oh,” said Johnny. He placed his hands together between his knees. Neither of them spoke about their old boss much now; his death was difficult to talk about. They drove in silence until they got to the town centre.

  Johnny checked for parking spaces as they approached the law firm.

  “There’s an underground car park around there.”

  Dennis shook his head. “I’ll park on the street.”

  “It’s all pay and display.”

  Dennis looked at him. “This is Bournemouth, Johnny. My old stamping ground. I won’t get a ticket here.”

  Johnny shrugged. Dennis found a space and got out of the car. Johnny followed him, glancing warily at the pay and display machine. Dennis chuckled.

  Johnny reached Nevin, Cross and Short and pressed on the buzzer. A voice came over the intercom. “Hello, can I help you?”

  “DS Frampton, DC Chiles,” said Dennis. “We’re here in connection with—”

  A buzzer sounded and they pushed through the door. Ahead was a set of stairs, all metal and linoleum. Not what he’d been expecting from one of Bournemouth’s biggest firms.

  They hurried up the stairs and found a woman at the top waiting.

  “Take a seat there,” she said. “We won’t keep you long.”

  “You were expecting us?” Dennis asked.

  She shrugged. “I was told to be ready.”

  Dennis eyed Johnny as the DC took a seat. Dennis remained standing. He couldn’t see the point in getting comfortable if they weren’t going to be here long.

  “They knew we were coming,” said Johnny. “Did you call ahead?”

  “I never call ahead, Johnny. But I guess if one of your partners has been murdered, it can’t be a huge shock that the police are going to show up.”

  A door behind him opened and a middle-aged man appeared. He had a broad round face with pink cheeks and thinning grey hair. He smiled and held a hand out towards Dennis.

  “Sergeant Frampton,” he said. “Harry Nevin, pleased to meet you.”

  Dennis ignored the hand. He didn’t feel comfortable shaking people’s hands, you never knew who you might be arresting one day.

  “Come on in,” Nevin added. “We’re waiting for you.”

  “We?” Dennis asked.

  “I’ve brought the partners together.”

  Dennis followed him inside, hurrying to keep up. “I’d rather speak to each of you separately.”

  Nevin waved in dismissal. “It’s a bit late for that. They’re all waiting for you.”

  “You’re a criminal lawyer, Sir. You’ll understand that people’s statements can differ, so long as they’re interviewed separately.”

  “We aren’t exactly eyewitnesses to a crime. We’re just her colleagues. And besides, we’re busy people. You should consider yourself lucky that we’re even able to see you at all.”

  Dennis exchanged a look with Johnny. “With respect, Sir,” he said to Nevin. “One of your junior partners has died. I don’t imagine you’re surprised that the police need to speak with you.”

  Nevin grunted. He pushed open the door to a glass-walled conference room. Inside sat two women. The closer of the two was in her forties, an attractive woman with thick dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Her colleague was in her sixties, with long grey hair piled on top of her head in a bun. Her clothes and hair made her seem matronly but the intensity of her stare was anything but.

  Nevin gestured to two seats and Dennis and Johnny took them. Nevin sat opposite them, between his partners.

  “Thank you for seeing us,” Dennis said. “Can we take your names?”

  The younger woman, the attractive one, leaned over the table. “Elsa Short,” she said. “And you are?”

  “DS Frampton, DC Chiles,” said Dennis, indicating Johnny.

  Elsa nodded.

  “And I’m Aurelia Cross,” the other woman said. “I hope you’ll make this brief.”

  Dennis raised an eyebrow. “It’ll take as long as it needs to take, Madam.”

  Johnny pulled his notepad from his pocket and Dennis shifted in his chair. It was modern and hard.

  “We need to know more about Ms Khan’s employment history, about the cases she was working on, and in particular about her movements in the last couple of weeks.”

  “Do you think she was up to something?” Elsa asked.

  “We don’t think anything,” Dennis replied. “But we need to get as much background as possible.”

  “Surely you got all this from Harry yesterday,” said Aurelia.

  “We were able to get some information, yes,” Dennis said. “My colleague spoke to him.”

  “DCI Clarke,” Nevin added, his lip curling.

  “So,” Dennis said, “can you tell us about her work patterns over the last few weeks, the cases she was assigned to? Was she in every day, or did she take any time off sick? Any problems with illness or mental health?”

  “Mental health?” said Aurelia Cross. “What are you insinuating? You think she killed herself?”

  “We’re certain now that her death was suspicious,” Dennis replied. “So we need to know if her work was connected to her death.”

  “You think someone here killed her?” said Elsa Short.

  “Not necessarily. I imagine it’s more likely that—”

  “So you want us to hand over confidential client information, so that you can piece together a better picture of Ameena and what she was like?” Elsa asked.

  “I understand the need for client confidentiality,” Dennis said. “But you’ll also understand the importance of forming as thorough a picture as we can in a murder inquiry.”

  She returned his gaze. “I’m sure we can find a compromise.”

  He felt Johnny fidgeting beside him. Don’t show them you’re uncomfortable, lad.

  “Let’s start with last week,” he said, turning to Nevin. “Where was she on Friday?”

  “Look,” said Nevin, “I know you’ve been sniffing around her cases. You think she was involved in the Steven Leonard case.”

  Dennis narrowed his eyes. “Was she?”

  “You’ve been speaking to the police who arrested Leonard.”

  Dennis tensed. How did Nevin know about that?

  “I can tell you,” Nevin continued, “he was my client, not Ameena’s.”

  “So why is Ameena the lawyer of record in the police files?” Dennis asked.

  Nevin shrugged. “She was the first name they got when Leonard was arrested. He gave them her name, but it was me who represented him. The Leonard case has nothing to do with Ameena. You can leave it alone.”

  Dennis cocked his head. “Steven Leonard was a bit of a minnow, for an experienced lawyer like yourself.”

  “We don’t look at our clients like that, Detective.”

  “And besides,” Dennis continued. “The court records say the same thing. Ameena Khan was the lawyer of record.”

  “Again,” said Nevin, “this all comes from an administrative error made by the police, which got passed on to the Magistrates’ Court. You check with Bournemouth CID. They’ll tell you they got it wrong. It was me they dealt with.”

  Beside him, Aurelia Cross leaned back in her chair. Her hands were in her lap, and she was shuffling her sh
oulders. Elsa Short, in contrast, was calm. She looked between Dennis and Johnny with those steely blue eyes.

  Dennis knew already that if there was something to be discovered about the Steven Leonard case, they’d have to discover it without Nevin’s help. But he had to defend his old colleagues at Bournemouth.

  “DS Biggins at Bournemouth station,” he said. “He’s a good detective, experienced. I trust him.”

  “DS Biggins got it wrong,” said Nevin. “It’s irrelevant, Sergeant. Drop it.”

  Johnny leaned in. “So we can save your time, could we speak to Ameena’s PA to find out her movements in the last few weeks?”

  Good idea, thought Dennis.

  Aurelia Cross shook her head. “Sam’s on sick leave.”

  “We can contact her at home,” Johnny replied.

  “I’m not about to give you private information,” said Cross.

  “This is a murder inquiry,” Dennis said. “We’re entitled to her mobile number.”

  Aurelia Cross grunted. “She knows nothing and she’s really not well at all. Leave her alone.”

  Nevin stood up. “I told you we were busy people. That’s all for now.”

  Dennis stayed seated. “We still need to ask you—”

  Nevin placed his fist on the table. “DS Frampton, we’ve got clients who need our attention. We don’t have anything more to tell you, you’ve got the files. Speak to Ameena’s husband. I imagine this will turn out to be some sort of domestic incident.”

  Dennis looked at him. They both knew that there was nothing domestic about Ameena Khan’s death. But Dennis would get nothing out of Harry Nevin if he tried to push it.

  He stood up, eyeing the lawyer over the table. “If we need anything more, we’ll be in touch,” he said.

  “You do that,” Nevin replied.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lesley took the A352 towards Dorchester. The road was busy in the other direction, holidaymakers heading towards the beach. But her route was clear and she was there in twenty-five minutes.