Broadland

by David Blake

  It was a very good question, and immediately cast a doubt in Tanner’s mind that the murder victim was their missing person; otherwise her husband would surely have mentioned it at their very first meeting.

  The significance of the news wasn’t lost on DI Burgess either, and with a thin, vengeful smile aimed directly at his counterpart, he asked, ‘I assume your missing woman wasn’t?’

  It was now Tanner’s turn to look stupid.

  ‘I, er…’ he began, and after glancing briefly over at Jenny, said, ‘Nothing about it was mentioned by her husband, no.’

  ‘I see,’ said Burgess, relishing the moment. ‘And don’t you think he would have done, had his wife been halfway through her pregnancy?’

  With honest humility, Tanner replied, ‘I must admit that I’d have thought he would have, yes.’

  Feeling as if he’d won the day, and knowing full well that DCI Barrington was standing right next to him, watching his new DI being humiliated in front of the whole office, as he felt he himself had been a couple of minutes earlier, Burgess said, ‘Well, maybe you can ask him about it when he comes in to look at the body of a pregnant women who it doesn’t sound like he’d have seen before in his entire life!’

  Leaping to Tanner’s defence, Jenny called out, ‘There is another alternative, sir!’

  ‘And what’s that, DI Evans?’ asked Burgess.

  ‘That he simply didn’t know that she was!'

  ‘Is that really very likely - that a husband wouldn’t know his wife was halfway through her pregnancy?’

  ‘Maybe not,’ replied Jenny, ‘But it’s still a possibility.’

  With a dismissive wave of his hand, Burgess said, ‘Well anyway, if you’re going to drag him to the morgue to take a look at her, maybe you can ask him on the way?’

  Another pause followed, before Burgess called out, ‘Right, that’s it for now. Make sure you report back to me the moment you hear anything; and remember – no talking to the press!’

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  THE BRIEFING OVER, Tanner and Jenny spent a few minutes discussing how best to go about asking Simon Richardson to help them identify the body. They knew they’d have to do so with both tact and discretion, because if it did turn out to be his wife, he’d naturally become a suspect in her murder, potentially the prime suspect. In that situation, it would become vitally important that they didn’t give away information that could have a bearing on any future case made against him. So apart from deciding to withhold the details of her death to him, they decided to extend that to her pregnancy as well, at least until he’d viewed the body and they’d know if he was going to be a suspect or not.

  The phone call went surprisingly well. Tanner told him nothing more than a body had been found that met the description of his wife, and that they needed his help to identify her. When he asked if they thought it was her, Tanner answered truthfully in that at that stage they didn’t know.

  After he agreed to help, Tanner arranged a time to meet him, gave him the address of the Norfolk Coroner’s Office in Norwich, and that was that. Richardson didn’t asked any more questions and remained calm throughout the conversation.

  He arrived looking like he’d been awake half the night. It was evident he’d not shaved that morning, and his hair looked greasy and unwashed.

  Tanner and Jenny had been shown where the body was going to be presented by one of Dr Johnstone’s assistants, and they’d been waiting for him in reception.

  Seeing him walk in, they stepped over to greet him. Tanner said, ‘Mr Richardson, thank you for agreeing to come in. I know that this is difficult for you, but unfortunately it is necessary.’

  In a quiet, unassuming voice, Richardson said, ‘I understand, but…do you think it’s her? Jane? I-I mean, my wife?’

  ‘To be honest, Mr Richardson, at this stage we simply don’t know, which is why we’ve asked you to come in.’

  ‘Right!’ he replied, and forced himself to stand up a little straighter, as he mentally prepared for the task ahead.

  When he looked as ready as he could be for such a task, Tanner said, ‘If you could follow me,’ and led the way through to where the body had been prepared for viewing.

  The room they entered was cold and sterile, with hard grey tiled walls and a cold grey floor. In the middle stood a long stainless-steel table on top of which was the outline of a body, draped from head to foot in a single white linen sheet. Behind that stood Dr Johnstone’s assistant.

  Tanner had been in similar rooms all too many times before, overseeing similar events, but this time it felt different. The last time had been when he’d been called in to formally identify his own daughter, which lent a more personal perspective to something that used to be just a formality.

  With Jenny deliberately staying back beside the door, Tanner and Richardson stepped forward until they were standing alongside the table. Tanner turned his head to look at the man beside him, whose gaze was already fixed on where the face was hidden by the linen sheet.

  ‘If you can, simply tell us if she’s your wife or not. That’s all we need to know.’

  ‘I understand.’

  Tanner nodded to the assistant, who reached over, took hold of the corners of the linen sheet, and gently pulled them back to reveal the woman’s head.

  Whoever had prepared the body for viewing had done a good job. Her skin was smooth and clean, less bloated than when Tanner had first seen her. And with her eyes closed and her hair brushed back, Tanner could more clearly see the resemblance to the photograph they had.

  With his voice cracking as if he’d not uttered a word in years, Richardson said, ‘It’s her.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘It’s definitely her,’ he confirmed, still staring.

  Tanner took a moment to study the man’s face.

  Behind his glasses, Richardson’s eyes remained fixed, unblinking. His skin had lost its colour, his nostrils flared and he was biting down on his bottom lip. Tanner had seen the expression all too many times before. It was a confused mixture of shock, regret, desperation and loss. He’d even seen it on his own reflection staring back at him from his bathroom mirror, after arriving home that night, nine months before. It was a look which meant Simon Richardson cared deeply about what had happened to his wife, and Tanner knew that it was a difficult combination of emotions to fake. However, it didn’t mean that he’d not had something to do with her death. The majority of the murder cases Tanner had been involved in were the tragic result of domestic disputes that had simply got way out of hand. And although there were times when the surviving partner attempted to cover up what had happened, there’d inevitably be that same look after the truth had come out.

  With that very much at the forefront of his mind, Tanner thanked the assistant and gently led Richardson out of the room.

  Once back in the corridor, with Jenny once more alongside, Tanner said, ‘Thank you for doing that, Mr Richardson. I know it wasn’t easy.’

  But there the social pleasantries had to end. The man was now a suspect in a murder investigation. Consequently, after pausing for a moment, Tanner asked, ‘You mentioned you were away at the weekend, playing golf. Do you mind telling us where that was, exactly?’

  ‘Of course, yes, but didn’t I already tell you?’

  ‘You told us you were playing golf, but you didn’t tell us where.’

  ‘Oh right, I was at–’ He stopped, and stared at Tanner. ‘You don’t think that I – I did that to her, do you?’

  ‘For now, we simply need to eliminate you from our enquiries, that’s all.’

  ‘So you’re saying that she was...?’

  ‘All I’m prepared to say at the moment, Mr Richardson, is that we don’t believe her death was accidental. Now if you could tell us where you were playing golf last weekend, that would be helpful.’

  His eyes flickered briefly between Jenny and Tanner, before he said, ‘I was at The Manor Resort. It’s on the north coast, about an hour’s drive fr
om here.’

  ‘For the whole weekend?’

  ‘I was taking part in a golf tournament. It was a two-day event.’

  ‘And where were you staying.’

  ‘At the club. The Manor Resort is a hotel as well as a golf course.’

  Glancing at Jenny to make sure she’d made a note of that, Tanner turned back to ask something he’d been wanting to know since he’d found out that morning.

  ‘Were you aware, Mr Richardson, that your wife was pregnant?’

  Richardson’s head snapped around towards Tanner. As his face flushed with raw emotion, he stated, ‘Of course I knew she was pregnant!’ With tears welling up in his eyes, he added, ‘Why wouldn’t I have known she was pregnant?’

  ‘Because you never mentioned it to us, Mr Richardson, which I must admit we all thought was rather odd.’

  ‘Believe it or not, I don’t go around telling complete strangers that my wife’s pregnant! Would you?’

  ‘If my wife had gone missing, and the police came round offering to help find her, then I think I would mention it, yes.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t! Why, is that a crime?’

  ‘Er, no, Mr Richardson, it’s just that it would have been useful to have known, that’s all.’

  ‘I see. So if I’d told you, then you wouldn’t think I killed her. Is that what you’re saying?’

  Tanner shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. The man did have a point. Would knowing she was pregnant have made any difference?

  As he began to wonder if he himself would have told the police about such a thing, were he to have been in a similar situation, he asked, ‘May I ask if the baby was planned?’

  After continuing to glare at Tanner for another second, the resentment that had been etched on his face faded away to be replaced by a hopeless emptiness.

  ‘We’d been trying for years,’ he eventually said. ‘Ever since we first got married.’

  A moment of silence followed, before Tanner said, with genuine sincerity, ‘I am sorry, Mr Richardson.’

  There was no response to that, nor was any expected.

  ‘There is just one more thing, Mr Richardson. I’m afraid we’re going to need you to provide us with a DNA sample, as well as your fingerprints.’

  Lost in thought, Richardson stared down at the floor, and barely loud enough to be heard, said, ‘Of course, yes, I understand.’

  In the silence that followed, Jenny led him away into another room, where she’d arranged for a forensics officer to meet with them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  AS THEY CROSSED towards Tanner’s XJS, in the far corner of the Coroner’s Office carpark, Tanner asked Jenny, ‘What did you think about what he said?’

  ‘About why he didn’t tell us his wife was pregnant?’

  ‘No, I think that much was true. It was more what he was saying about the weekend.’

  ‘Did you think he was lying?’

  ‘Not so much lying, no. More that he was trying to hide something.’

  ‘Maybe he’s just really bad at playing golf,’ said Jenny, ‘and he doesn’t want us to find out!’

  Having spent the last few minutes in the same room as a dead body, she was keen to lighten the mood.

  But a part of Tanner was still back in the Coroner’s Office. Only half of him had heard what she’d said. The other half remained with Jane Richardson’s body, wondering if it could have been her husband who’d murdered her.

  Pulling out his phone, he said, ‘I’d better give Barrington a call, to let him know the result.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you call Burgess instead?’ she asked.

  ‘I think I’d prefer to tell Barrington. I don’t think Burgess will be too happy to find out that his murder victim is now my missing person.’

  ‘I don’t think Barrington’s going to be too pleased either. Not when the girl’s father is none other than John Lambert!’

  ‘No, well, that can’t be helped.’

  Having added Barrington’s direct line number to his phone the day before, Tanner dialled the number and waited.

  ‘Barrington.’

  ‘It’s DI Tanner, calling from the Coroner’s Office.’

  ‘Right,’ said Barrington, sounding as if he was bracing himself. ‘How’d it go?’

  ‘Mr Richardson made a positive ID.’

  There was a pause on the end of the phone before Barrington said, ‘I was afraid you were going to say that. The results came back from that blood sample that you sent over. It did belong to the murder victim, so it looks as if you were right. She must have been killed on her way back from the Bittern pub. I’ve already asked Burgess to get forensics down to the railway bridge, to see if they can dig up anything else. I suppose you haven’t told him yet?’

  ‘Not yet, sir, no. I thought I’d better let you know first.’

  ‘OK, well, thank you.’ An audible sigh came over the line. ‘I suppose that means someone’s going to have to tell her parents.’

  Silence followed. It was fairly obvious that he was hoping Tanner would put his hand up for the job, and as it was effectively now his case, even though he wasn’t officially leading the investigation, he felt obliged to volunteer.

  ‘Jenny and I can head over there now, sir, if that helps.’

  ‘That would be appreciated, thank you.’

  ‘No problem, sir.’

  ‘When you’re there, make sure you ask them how she got on with her husband, and if she had any problem relationships in the past.’

  ‘There’s also the possibility that it could have been a kidnap attempt that went wrong, sir.’

  ‘It could well have been, yes,’ agreed Barrington, ‘but please tread carefully with them. If we’re going to get this wrapped up with minimal fuss, we’re going to need them on our side.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Did you get Richardson’s DNA and fingerprints?’

  ‘We did. He says he was off playing golf at the time she was killed, but someone’s going to need to verify that.’

  ‘Email me over the details, and I’ll get Burgess to look into it.’

  ‘Maybe we should send someone over to the Bittern Pub as well, sir?’

  ‘I’ll mention it to him. And I’ll get someone to start checking through CCTV footage of the area. It’s possible we might see someone following her home. And we’ll need to start a full background check on Jane Richardson.’

  ‘We’ve already begun that, sir.’

  Sounding surprised, Barrington said, ‘Right. Good. I’ll leave that with you then.’

  The call ended, and Tanner looked over at Jenny. ‘I assume you’re OK coming with me to let the parents know?’

  ‘Of course! I even know where they live.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘I think most people around here do. They’ve got what’s probably the largest house in Horning. It’s on the river’s edge, just past the sailing club.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  DETECTIVE INSPECTOR PAUL Burgess was having a bad week, and it was only Tuesday. When old “Tommy” Mills had finally retired the month before, that made him the most senior Detective Inspector at Wroxham Police Station. He’d therefore been expecting to be given the lead on all serious crime cases that came in. With the experience he’d subsequently gain, after a few years he’d be able to apply for a Detective Chief Inspector’s position, hopefully somewhere not too far away from Norwich. That was the role he’d set his heart on ever since joining the Force. At that level the pay was good, and although there’d be more responsibility, he knew that the bulk of that could easily be passed down the chain, meaning that if anything went wrong, it would be someone else who’d take the fall. Furthermore, there’d be no more “donkey-work”. The position of DCI was predominantly managerial, so all he’d have to do would be to sit behind a desk delegating work to his DIs, in much the same way as Barrington did. Having just turned forty, and having been working within the Norfolk Constabulary since graduating from univer
sity at twenty-one, that meant he’d been on the Force for nearly twenty years. What he lacked was experience of heading up serious criminal investigations, and he knew he’d need that if he was ever going to be promoted up to a DCI. But when he’d heard a rumour that Tom’s replacement was going to be some DI from London, someone who was older and more experienced than him, he began to worry that his career plan was about to be de-railed. As soon as he’d heard, he’d confronted Barrington about it, asking if it was true, and demanding to know why, when just about everyone working at Wroxham Police Station was born and bred in Norfolk. Burgess was so put out by the news that he’d threatened to put in for a transfer, should the guy from London be allowed to join.

  However, by that time it was too late. The deal had been done, forcing Barrington to placate Burgess by saying that he’d still consider him to be the station’s most senior DI, and would do his best to give him the lead in any serious cases that arose.

  By then, Burgess had found out that the new DI had already led numerous serious criminal investigations; but he also knew how hard it would be for Barrington to replace him, were he to put in for a transfer. Very few police detectives wanted to work in areas with such low crime rates as Norfolk, at least not good ones. Most made a beeline straight to the major cities where there were more promotional opportunities.

  When the woman’s body had been found the day before, the exact same day the new London DI had started, Burgess was beginning to wonder if the gods were playing some sort of cruel joke on him, especially when the report came in that she’d been murdered. At the time, the only saving grace had been that the new DI was assigned to Missing Persons; but when the blood sample Tanner had sent off to forensics came back as belonging to his murder victim, followed shortly afterwards by the news that a positive ID had been made, then Burgess knew Barrington would be under mounting pressure to have his most experienced officer heading up the investigation, and that wasn’t him! He therefore knew that his only chance to keep a hold of the investigation would be to not make any mistakes, and to bring it to a swift and timely conclusion. So when Barrington told him that the body had been positively identified as Jane Richardson, the daughter of John Lambert, founder and CEO of the Lambert Oak pub chain, he’d been quick to agree to all Barrington’s suggestions as to what the first steps should be. Had he known that most of them had originally been proposed by Tanner, no doubt he’d have been less compliant.