"What's on your mind?" she repeated. "Are you with Eric on this, looking at Crowe?"
"I think I have it," he said quietly, meeting her gaze.
"Who?"
Tom shook his head, cutting a wry smile. "It's so obvious when you think about it but now… now I need to prove it."
Chapter Thirty-One
Pulling up outside the Becketts' family home, Tom was pleased to see Justin Howell, Janet Beckett's son, had already arrived. He'd called ahead, letting them know of developments in the investigation ahead of any press release going out. The media frenzy was about to get underway with the news of Liam Hansell's arrest and charging in the Gage murder. The close association between Prometheus Energy and Mary Beckett's activism would likely send the rumour mill into overdrive. Rain was steadily falling, the day dreary and overcast. The setting matched his mood.
Aware that he should be feeling a measure of elation at obtaining a confession from Liam Hansell, not least to clear Alice of suspicion once and for all, he was left with the opposite feeling. The murder was broadly senseless. If the situation had happened on another day, perhaps even several hours earlier or later, Hansell may not have reacted the way he did. He hadn't gone to see Gage with murder in mind. He was feeling desperate, certainly. He feared for his business and his career, neither of which were justifiable reasons for homicide, but the combination of factors came together along with Gage's ambivalence to his plight as something of a perfect storm. Had Alice not cast Adrian aside that day, maybe he would have been open to Hansell's plea. It was a real sliding doors moment. One with the direst of outcomes.
Now they were left with Mary Beckett's murder. He glanced at Cassie sitting alongside him.
"Ready?"
"Always," she said with a smile. "When should I give Tamara the nod?"
"As soon as we're inside."
They hurriedly approached the front door to escape the rain, and it opened before they reached the porch. Justin Howell welcomed them with a broad smile.
"Do come in, Inspector," he said, stepping aside and beckoning the two of them to enter.
Justin guided them through to the sitting room where Janet Beckett sat before a roaring fire. Suddenly Tom felt uncomfortably warm. Open fires in June were unusual, but the house was large and very old. No doubt the draughts could be felt, particularly on wet and windy days as this one. He undid his coat. Justin stepped forward to take it from him. He laid it flat on an occasional chair, encouraging Cassie to do the same with hers as she tapped something into her mobile phone. She smiled gratefully, slipping her mobile into her pocket.
"I'm sorry," Justin said, indicating the fireplace, "but my mother feels the cold. Even in June."
"It's not June, silly boy," Janet said, shaking her head. "Look out there." She gestured towards the bay window. "Autumn if ever it was."
Her son inclined his head, offering Tom an almost imperceptible shake of the head to imply it wasn't worth arguing the point.
"So, you've made headway in the case I understand?" Justin said, sitting down next to his mother. "Have you arrested someone?"
"I believe an arrest is imminent, yes," Tom said.
"Oh, I see," Justin replied, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I thought you said on the telephone you'd already made an arrest."
"I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. We have, only it was in another murder case."
"The man in Cley?" Justin said, his eyes flicking to his mother.
Tom nodded. "That's correct. A man by the name of Liam Hansell has confessed to the murder."
"The man from the renewable company?" Janet asked. Tom nodded and she casually tapped a finger against the back of her son's hand. "You see, I told you he was a wrong-un."
Justin didn't respond to her, seemingly ignoring her comment. Instead, he focussed on Tom. "But… only to the murder in Cley?"
"Correct."
"And… do you think he was involved in Aunt Mary's death?"
"No, we don't believe so," Tom said. Janet appeared puzzled; Justin more wary.
"Then… pardon me," Justin said, "but what is the development you wished to tell us about?"
Tom sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'm afraid we're talking at cross purposes again. We're looking to resolve a few things in our timeline that will probably lead to understanding just what happened to Mary."
Janet exchanged a glance with her son. Justin spread his hands wide. "Whatever we can do to help, obviously."
"Great," Tom said. "First off, can you clarify your movements on the night your aunt's body was found out at Blakeney Point?"
Justin's eyes widened and he looked between Tom and Cassie, then at his mother, who appeared just as puzzled.
"On the night she was found?"
Tom nodded. "Yes. After I visited the scene, I came here to speak with your mother. You arrived shortly after, as I recall."
Justin sat open-mouthed, his eyes drifting up to the ceiling. "Yes. I think that was right. But I don't really see—"
"Just bear with me, if you don't mind."
"Okay," Justin said, taking a deep breath and sitting upright. "I… was at home, I believe, when I got the call. I hurried over as soon as I could. Why?"
"That's interesting. I was out at the crime scene with the forensic officers until late in the evening. My colleagues had already visited your mother to notify her of the discovery." Tom indicated Janet, sitting alongside her son with her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. "A family liaison officer was also already in place, well before I arrived here that night. And yet, you were not here. Why did it take you so long to attend?"
Justin shifted in his seat, his frown deepening. "I don't recall. But, as I said, I was at home and I have a life, Inspector. I can't be the only person who isn't immediately available when a call comes in. I came over as soon as I could."
"Fair enough," Tom said, smiling. "No doubt your wife, Miriam isn't it, will be able to confirm that?"
"I… I'm sure—"
"Good, I'm sure DCI Greave will be asking her that very question as we speak."
"What… you are at my home?"
"Oh, yes. Those developments we were talking about, but I'll come to that. I'd really like to know what your car was doing parked at the old harbour in Cley that night? A red Volkswagen Golf, isn't it?"
"Yes. Yes, it is."
"Bought locally?" Tom asked. Justin nodded, confused. "Thought so. It's interesting that car dealers receive a block of registration numbers for their new batch of vehicles, meaning the number plates not only start with the same regional prefix but the rest of the index can be very similar to others arriving on the road at the same time. There will be a number of Volkswagens with similar plates hitting the road simultaneously." Tom glanced at Cassie, inclining his head. "Meaning people can easily get confused when they see the same model of car in the same place on the same day but, crucially, with a slightly different range of letters and numbers. If it's dark and you're busy… it's an easy mistake to make." He could tell Cassie was suppressing a smile.
Justin scoffed. "But… why on earth would you think I was in Cley that night?"
"To see what we were doing out at Blakeney Point," Tom said, fixing him with a stare. "It must have come as quite a shock when you heard a body had been found at the entrance to the harbour. You must have thought your aunt's body was well out into the North Sea by then, seeing as you dropped her body in the water the previous night."
Justin met Tom's stare. "This is absurd—"
"No, it's quite logical when you break it down."
"This is preposterous! What possible motive could I have for doing such a thing?"
"One of the classic motivations that leads to murder, Mr Howell – money. You said it yourself the night we first met; your family have always been very traditional in their outlook whether in regard to relationships or inheritance. As the eldest born child, Mary inherited the family estate. Your mother was welcomed back into the family home by
her sister, your aunt, otherwise she would have been destitute." Tom looked at Janet who stared down, fumbling with her fingers in her lap. "With Mary approaching her later years and suffering with terminal cancer - an illness that neither of you saw fit to mention to us - unmarried and childless, I wonder when you began to think about where her wealth would go when she passed away?" He looked around. "I understand she wasn't necessarily cash rich, but the house and surrounding land would be valuable. Who would that pass to when she died? I'm sure once we've located her will, then we'll know. Because she had a will, didn't she, Mr Howell? That's why you tore her study apart the day after her disappearance looking for it."
Justin leapt to his feet, startling both Tom and Cassie, but he didn't advance on them. Instead, he stood with his arms at his side, fists clenched. "This is an outrage—"
"Sit down, Mr Howell!" Tom said firmly. Justin looked down at his mother, who raised a hand and gently encouraged him to do so. Tom looked between mother and son. "I imagine you both knew what was in the will, or at least you had a good idea. We've been examining your aunt's activities very closely and it's clear she was dedicated to her passion, the natural world—"
"That was all she cared about," Janet said, interrupting him, the first words she'd spoken since they'd sat down. "Not me, the family or this place," she said, absently indicating the house with a flick of the hand and shaking her head. "The place is falling down around us but she didn't care. Just the birds… always the birds."
"And she planned to do what?" Tom asked. "Leave her estate to wildlife charities? You may as well tell me because you didn't find the copy of her will. We'll canvass the local solicitors and I dare say one will have it lodged with them for safety. Were you concerned Mary would leave you and your son with nothing?"
"I don't see how killing my aunt would change the nature of her will, Inspector," Justin said with obvious disdain for the suggestion. "I know you are the professional detective here, but you're barking up the wrong tree."
"No, you're right. Killing Mary wouldn't change what was in her will—"
Justin shook his head in disbelief. "So why on earth would you think that I did?"
"You didn't, Mr Howell…" Tom said, turning his attention to Janet, "did he, Janet?"
Chapter Thirty-Two
Janet Beckett was avoiding Tom's gaze, still fiddling nervously with her hands. Justin reached out and covered her hands with his right. Her eyes darted up at her son, but she didn't speak.
"Now you just hold on a minute," Justin said, glaring at Tom.
"But you did dispose of the body," Tom countered. "When your mother called you to tell you what she'd done, you came out here and retrieved your aunt's body. Then you wrapped it in a shawl she owned and drove out to Blakeney where you either have a boat, or access to someone else's, and you dropped her in the harbour fully anticipating the tide would draw her out into the sea. She would never be found. And no one would ever know what either of you did that night."
Justin exaggerated his exhale. "That's a rather fanciful story, Inspector. I do hope you have something to back it up, otherwise I will be making a complaint to your superior officer."
"I'll get to that, don't worry," Tom said. "But no one sneaked up on Mary. She wasn't assaulted from behind. She was struck once, and she was facing whoever did it. There were no indications of a struggle, no defensive wounds, and we don't believe she was out doing her rounds in her role as a volunteer 'Watcher' of the wildlife reserves. She wasn't properly dressed for it. We believe she was here, at home, in a place where she felt comfortable and safe. Now that only leaves you, Janet. There was no one else here. I put it to you that you argued over what exactly, we don't know. Money, perhaps?" He waited briefly for a reaction. Janet glanced up at him, but away again. "By all accounts, your sister was a spiky character. Was she prone to browbeating you, pointing out how you needed her or were a drain on the family resources? I don't know but… this time, for whatever reason, you lashed out with whatever was to hand. I doubt you planned to kill her but you did. And then you panicked and called Justin, the same as you always do. And he took it from there. How close am I?"
Justin squeezed his mother's hand firmly. "Say nothing, Mum. The man's lost his marbles."
"But, of course, this was a hastily thrown together plan, but one worthy of congratulation because you almost pulled it off," Tom said. "By disposing of the body in such a way you would have time in which to find a way to counteract Mary's wishes in her last will and testament, while waiting for the years to pass before she could legally be declared dead. And opposing her will was something you'd been working towards for a long time."
"Is that so?" Justin asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Yes, you see this impromptu burial at sea wasn't the original plan, was it? The plan all along was to bring Mary's state of mind into question. The first time we met," he pointed to Justin, "you indicated to me that your aunt suffered from a paranoid delusion regarding someone stalking her. You even suggested that it ran in the family. However, your own mother was positively lucid on that night. But when I came to discuss Liam Hansell's visit and Mary's relationship with Daniel Crowe, Janet seemed to be struggling with her mental acuity. Much as she has exhibited today." He gestured to the weather outside and focussed on Janet again. "Now, either you've experienced a rapid descent in your health or this is all a bit of a show and you've been playing it up for our sakes. The latter would indicate your knowledge and complicity in the plan, Janet."
"I'm getting a little tired of this, Inspector—"
"So am I, Justin. And so was your aunt. The stalking, the late-night prowlers… the harassing phone calls late at night… all designed to not only push Mary to the edge but also to have her question her own sanity."
"So we not only killed her and disposed of the body, but we tried to drive her mad as well. Is that right?"
Tom nodded emphatically. "Yes, that was the plan. What legal grounds are there that can be used to challenge a person's last will and testament? There aren't many. Duress, lack of provision for dependents, fraud and mental incompetence pretty much covers it. Someone spending a decade reporting apparitions following her will do a lot to build a credible case to challenge the strength of their mental faculties. Having the police effectively instruct her to stop wasting their time must have been music to your ears. All the phone calls, following her and scaring her in the dark… all of it just to sow the seeds of doubt for a later claim against her estate. Thinking about it, if Mary's body was never found and there were no suspicion of foul play, you could even push a theory related to suicide when seeking to have her declared legally dead. The plan was still salvageable, just as long as the murder remained concealed. But there is one thing I don't believe you're aware of."
"And that is?" Justin asked, venom in his tone.
"That you succeeded. Mary went to her GP, concerned about her state of mind, and they ran a battery of tests to see if she was suffering from dementia or any other condition. And you know what? She passed. There was nothing wrong with her state of mind. I'm betting we'll find no evidence of a family disposition to mental health either, but that's for another day."
Tom's mobile rang and he reached into his pocket to retrieve it, all whilst not taking his eye off Justin. He answered without looking at the screen. All four of them sat in silence as Tom listened to the caller. Janet looked up at her son who was agitated but maintained the eye contact with Tom. He was curious as to what was being said, Tom could tell.
"Okay. Thank you," Tom said, hanging up. "Where were we?"
"I'm hoping you're about to offer us some evidence to back up this wild theory of yours, Inspector. Because if not, I think you should leave."
Tom looked at Cassie and winked. "Well, as you know, we arrested and charged Liam Hansell earlier today with the murder of Adrian Gage. During the interview, it became apparent that Mr Hansell was involved in an extra-marital, casual, relationship with another man. A married man. Any idea who
that might be, Mr Howell?"
Justin's face drained of colour. His grip on his mother's hand must have changed because she looked at him inquisitively.
"Justin? Do you know?" she asked.
Justin stared at Tom, his lips parting.
"Now, we know it was a discreet affair," Tom said. "Communication was minimal. Judging from the digital records we have obtained from Mr Hansell's mobile phone, it is clear that he arranged these casual meetings via a dating app used by homosexual and bisexual men. There don't appear to be many profiles in this immediate area and most use pseudonyms, but presumably once people got to know one another they would be more inclined to make arrangements directly rather than through the app. I doubt there are many users of this particular application in this area. In large urban areas, yes, but not so many here. The pool is a lot smaller, so to speak."
Janet was staring at her son now, her eyebrows knitted. "Justin, whatever does he mean?"
Tom continued. "You see, Janet, on my last visit I took your son's reaction to your comments surrounding sexuality to be merely the result of a child's embarrassment. After all, we all have those relatives who make pronouncements that we're uncomfortable with on occasion – the ageing racist uncle at the family wedding or the one member of the family who can't stop talking negatively about immigration in front of your Spanish girlfriend. But it wasn't that, was it, Justin?"
"Tell him he's wrong, Justin," Janet said. She shook his forearm as if to stimulate his defence of the suggestion. Justin's expression didn't change. He averted his gaze from both Tom and his mother. "Justin!" she repeated, shaking him ever more aggressively. He snatched away his arm.
"Mother! For crying out loud, leave me alone."
Janet was shocked, retracting her hand slowly, open-mouthed. Tom shook his head.
"You shouldn't have kept the mobile phone," he said softly. "But I can see why you did. You bought it to harass your aunt. It was untraceable. The police couldn't even find you. So when it came for you to explore yourself more freely, of course you'll return to the anonymity of the prepay phone. If the police couldn't trace it to you no one else would. Not your wife," he said, turning to Janet. "Or your mother. And you should know that the call I received was from Detective Chief Inspector Greave, who is currently searching your home. We have the mobile phone." Janet gasped. "Furthermore, your wife Miriam has openly said she wasn't at home the night we found Mary's body out at Blakeney Point. She was out with two friends for the evening, so you were lying about who you were with, if not where you were."
The Dead Call: A chilling British detective crime thriller (The Hidden Norfolk Murder Mystery Series Book 6) Page 24