by Frank Smith
The tea came, together with a couple of tablets, and the interview resumed.
‘The Rose and Crown was chosen,’ said Taylor in answer to Paget’s question, ‘because John Chadwell had been out a few times the previous summer with the landlord’s daughter, and he knew how they cashed up each night. The night of New Year’s day was chosen simply because there would be three nights’ takings on the table.
‘We all went back to university, feeling very smug and proud of ourselves for having pulled it off, and I thought that was the end of it, but when we were all back home again during the summer holidays, Steph started prodding us to do at least two more robberies to prove that our success with the first one wasn’t just a fluke. She even had the next target picked out: the weekly poker game at the home of Walter Roach, which she knew about because her father had been a regular player there at one time.’
Taylor sipped his tea. ‘The second robbery went like clockwork as well. Barry hid the van in the shed behind the Grant house until it was time to get rid of it, and we divided the money between us, equal shares.’ He wrinkled his nose as if in distaste for what he was about to say. ‘I should tell you that when the plans were first discussed, the proceeds of the robberies were to be returned anonymously to the victims, but because we all had very large student loans, greed raised its ugly head and that idea soon went by the board.’
‘Is that why you decided to rob the jewellers next door to the bakery?’ asked Paget. ‘The lure of all that money, the jewellery, the gold, the silver, which I’m sure you must have known about, either from your father or Sam Bergman himself?’
Taylor nodded. ‘I knew about it, of course,’ he said, ‘but once again it was Steph who took that knowledge and put it all together, and it became the next target. To tell the truth, the idea of doing something like that so close to home scared the hell out of me, but Steph talked me round as she always did.’ He sucked in his breath. ‘I know I should have shown more backbone, but I couldn’t back out without appearing to be chicken, and I wasn’t prepared to take the chance of losing Steph, so I went along with it, and so did John and Roger.’
‘And Barry Grant,’ said Paget. ‘We know from the notes he left behind, that he was on lookout in the lane. But he must have been facing away from the bakery, because he didn’t see your father come out and go next door. He said there was a struggle and someone’s ski mask came off. You were inside, so tell us what happened.’
Taylor looked away. ‘It was Steph’s,’ he said. ‘Suddenly Dad was there right next to Steph and it stunned us all. I don’t think any of us could believe it, and it wasn’t until he grabbed Steph and ripped her ski mask off that any of us moved.
‘Of course he recognized her straightaway,’ Taylor continued. ‘He had her by the throat, and I can still remember what he said to this day. He said, “You thieving little bitch! You’re just like your father. And you thought you were going to marry my son?” Then he slapped her across the face so hard it knocked her down.’
Taylor took a deep breath and looked straight at Paget. ‘I didn’t stop to think,’ he said. ‘I had the bar in my hand and I simply lashed out blindly. He fell forward, hit his head on the corner of the counter, and went down next to Steph. There was blood all over his head. Emily Bergman started to scream and John hit her to make her stop, then kept on hitting her until she was dead. Then Roger was sick all over the floor. It was sheer pandemonium in there.
‘Steph scrambled to her knees and felt for a pulse on Dad’s neck, then she looked at me and shook her head and said, “I’m sorry, Kevin, but he’s dead.”’
Taylor picked up the mug of tea and drained it, then held it with both hands as if to warm them. ‘It was a nightmare,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t think, I couldn’t speak; I couldn’t move, and Steph finally had to scream at me to take Roger out, while she and Chadwell stayed behind to “take care of things”.
‘I don’t remember much of the next twenty-four hours. We changed clothes in the van, then they dropped me off where I’d left the delivery van, and I just sat there, trying to calm down and pluck up the courage to go back to the bakery.
‘I remember the police being there in the lane when I got there; I remember my brother telling me that Dad was dead, and I remember I was scared to death for fear David would figure out the real reason I’d asked him to cover my rounds for me that morning.’
Taylor set the mug aside. ‘As I said, I don’t remember very much about the rest of the weekend, but it was late Sunday evening when I received a call from Steph. She said she was parked a short distance down the street, and we had to talk, so I went out to meet her there. She said Barry was panicking, and something had to be done to persuade him not to do anything foolish. She’d arranged to meet him in the big shed behind the Grant house, where the van and the proceeds from the robbery were stored, and she wanted me to come with her.
‘Shortly before we got there, Steph said perhaps it would be better if she talked to Barry alone. She said she thought she might have a better chance or reasoning with him; that he might feel intimidated if both of us were there, and I was only too happy to agree with her.
‘We stopped some distance away from the house, and Steph went the rest of the way on foot. I don’t remember how long she was gone, but when she returned, she was driving the getaway van, and she looked pretty shaken up. She said that Barry had confronted her with a loaded shotgun. He said he’d made up his mind; he intended to go to the police in the morning and tell them everything. Steph said she tried to talk him out of it, but the more she talked, the angrier he became. She made a grab for the gun. They struggled and it went off, killing Barry.’
‘Are you sure it wasn’t the other way round?’ Tregalles said. ‘It seems to me that your wife – sorry, your girlfriend as she was then – is being blamed for just about everything now she’s dead. It seems more likely to me that it was you who went to meet Barry Grant and it was you who killed him, then set it up to look like a suicide. I’ve met your wife, and I can’t see her doing anything like that on her own, especially back then. She couldn’t have been much more than a kid herself. What was she? Nineteen . . . twenty, maybe . . .?’
Taylor smiled tiredly. ‘Twenty-one,’ he said, ‘and I don’t blame you for wanting to believe the best of her. Steph is . . . was very persuasive, and I should know. God knows I made myself believe everything she told me for years. And I believed her then, because I wanted to believe her, and—’
‘You said Stephanie returned with the van?’ Paget cut in firmly. ‘Please carry on, Mr Taylor.’
‘That’s right. She drove the van and I followed in her car to the old strip-mine in Collier’s Wood, where we set fire to the van, then drove back to town.’
‘What happened to the money, the jewellery, and the rest of the proceeds from the robbery?’
A dry, mirthless chuckle rumbled in Taylor’s throat. ‘Good question,’ he said. ‘Steph told me that Barry must have hidden it somewhere else, because she’d searched the shed and there was no sign of it. I believed her at the time, in fact I believed it right up until last night. But perhaps I can come to that later, because everything changed after John Chadwell and I left here yesterday afternoon.
‘We were walking to the car when I told John he would have to get someone else to defend him if he was charged with the murder of Roger Corbett and the beating of Sharon Jessop, because I believed he was guilty in both cases. He became angry, denied it and tried to bluster his way out, but when he saw that wasn’t working, he admitted I was right about Mrs Jessop, but not about Roger, and his only regret was that he hadn’t made sure that Sharon Jessop was dead.’
Taylor looked away. ‘And that was when he said if I didn’t defend him, he would make sure that Steph would go down with him, not only for the death of Roger Corbett, but for killing my father as well. He also threatened to take me down as well, saying that he would swear that I had known what Steph was doing from the beginning.
�
��I refused to believe him,’ Taylor said. ‘At least, I didn’t want to believe him, and yet I knew I couldn’t leave it there; I had to talk to Steph and find out if what he’d said was true.’
He fell silent for a long moment, reliving once again a painful memory. ‘You see,’ he said at last, ‘John told me that Steph had lied to me from the very beginning. He said my father was stunned but alive when Steph told me he was dead. He said she lied deliberately to make me believe that I had killed my father, then told me to get Roger out of there to get me out of the way so she could “finish the job properly”, as she told me yesterday.
‘And there was more. John said he was sure it was Steph who reacted to the reopening of the investigation by attempting to burn down the Grant house in case there was something to be found there. I didn’t think to ask Steph about that last night, but I’m sure he was right. It would be one of those things that “had to be done”.’
Kevin looked up at the ceiling, more to avoid looking at either of the two detectives than for any other reason. Then he continued. ‘John then went on to tell me about Roger,’ he said quietly. ‘John said when Roger phoned him after you talked to him in his office, he phoned Steph immediately to warn her that Roger might break down and start talking. He said she never even hesitated. She told him to meet her in the car park behind the Unicorn in fifteen minutes. Once there, he said Steph phoned Roger and told him to come out to his car, where she would be waiting to take him home.
‘He said Roger was barely able to walk by then, so the two of them bundled him into the passenger’s seat of his own car, and Steph drove him home, while John followed close behind. When they got there, Steph told John to stay in his car and be ready to drive her back to town once she’d dealt with Corbett. He said she was gone about twenty minutes, and when she came back she was dripping wet, and spent most of the time on the way back drying herself off. He said she didn’t tell him what she’d done, except to say they wouldn’t have to worry about Roger any more. Back in town, he said Steph picked up her own car and went home, while he went into the Unicorn to ask if anyone had seen Roger. He stayed just long enough to make sure everyone would remember the time, then went home himself.’
Taylor fought hard to control his voice as he went on. ‘I tackled Steph about it last night. I told her everything that John had said, hoping against hope that he had made it all up and she would deny it, but I had to know.’
He ran his tongue over his lips and there were tears in his eyes as he said, ‘She admitted it. Never batted an eye. She said, “It was necessary, Kevin. It had to be done, so I took care of it. If your father had left there alive, we would have both been finished. Careers and future down the drain. I knew you didn’t have the balls for it, so I took care of it.” As for the killing of Roger, she said the same thing. It had to be done.
‘She was very calm, very matter-of-fact. She told me she had killed Barry for the same reason, to protect us both, and she took the proceeds from the robbery and hid them until she could recover them later.’
‘So how did she dispose of the jewellery and the gold?’ asked Paget.
‘Bit by bit in Amsterdam when she went to visit her relatives over there. She said they ripped her off over there, because all she got was eight thousand for the lot when it was worth at least twice that much.’
Paget and Tregalles exchanged glances. So much for the claim the Bergman’s had made.
‘What prompted her to go after Chadwell?’ asked Paget.
‘I suppose I did, when I told her he’d threatened to take us both down,’ said Taylor. ‘She reacted as she’d always done. John posed a threat, so he had to go. Unfortunately, I was still sitting there trying to understand how Steph could be so matter-of-fact about what she’d done, and trying to understand how I could have been so blind for so many years.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Wilfully blind,’ he ended huskily.
‘It wasn’t until I heard the garage door go up that I realized where she was going and what she was going to do. I followed, but got there just a bit too late.’
‘But how did she think you would react to another killing, especially after admitting to killing your father and allowing you to think that you had done it?’
‘I think Steph believed that I would never betray her, no matter what she did. And with good reason, because I have always been so afraid of losing her that I have gone along with virtually everything she ever asked of me.’
‘But why kill her?’ Tregalles asked. ‘Why didn’t you just pull her off Chadwell instead of bashing her skull in with that iron stand?’
Taylor turned to look at him. His cheeks were moist, his face was pale, and his eyes were like chips of ice. ‘She had to be stopped,’ he said, ‘no matter what the consequences. The killing had to end. Besides,’ he added with a wry twist of the mouth, ‘I knew that sooner or later she would see me as a potential threat, and Steph was nothing if not practical, so I would have to go. This way, for once in my life, it was my choice, not Steph’s.’
THIRTY-THREE
Monday, July 27th
The breakfast tray sat untouched beside the bed. Amy didn’t feel like eating after being told that John had died during the night. It wasn’t that she was in shock, or anything like that; in fact she wasn’t conscious of feeling anything at all, except, perhaps, relief.
It was just that there was so much to think about now that he was gone; so much to do; so many decisions to make. Thank goodness it had happened at the beginning of the holidays, because it meant she would have at least a month to deal with things before she returned to school.
If she returned to school . . .
The thought surprised her. It seemed to have come from nowhere. She started to dismiss it, then paused. After all, the house would be hers. John had a good life insurance policy; there would be something coming from work, and she could sell his car, so chances were there would be enough to pay off the mortgage on the house, or at least reduce it by a considerable amount.
And it was big enough.
Amy pursed her lips as she thought about it. She’d always dreamed of running a play school. Parents, especially working parents, were always looking for somewhere to leave their younger children, and there were never enough facilities to meet demand, so why not? She was a qualified teacher; she’d taught small children for years, and her last review at school had commended her for her after-hours work with the little ones as well, so there should be no problem there.
Amy winced as she put her hands behind her head and closed her eyes, but she barely noticed the pain. Her mind was racing. If she knocked out the wall between the living and dining room . . .
‘Never did get a chance to question Chadwell before he died,’ Tregalles told Ormside. ‘He never regained consciousness. I went to the hospital again last night, hoping he’d come round, but he never did, so I packed it in at eleven, and I’m told he died around three this morning.’
‘Still, what Kevin Taylor said about what Chadwell told him about the killing of Roger Corbett seems to be checking out,’ said Ormside. ‘Forensic found wads of tissue and pond residue under the passenger’s seat of Mrs Chadwell’s car, and they found a pair of stained trainers belonging to Mrs Taylor in the laundry room of Taylor’s house. They think there’s a good chance that they were soaked when she was drowning Corbett, so they’re testing for a match.
‘They also found a pair of heavy gardening gloves in Chadwell’s garden shed. The weave matches the pattern on some of Sharon Jessop’s bruises when she was first taken into hospital.’
Tregalles pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘I’m not sorry to see Chadwell gone,’ he said, ‘but I still can’t make up my mind about Taylor. If what he told us about his wife is true, then I can almost feel sorry for him. But he must have known, or at least suspected, that some of the things she told him weren’t true, and yet he let himself believe her.
‘Mind you,’ he continued, ‘I can see it in a way. You never met her, did you, Len?�
� Tregalles rolled his eyes. ‘Well, I did, and I can tell you, she was one really good-looking woman, and she must have been something to see thirteen years ago. I think I’d have been ready to believe anything she told me back then.’
‘You still would,’ Ormside said bluntly. ‘Is it true Taylor could have made bail, but refused it?’
Tregalles nodded. ‘That’s right. And unless he decides to change his plea to not guilty, he’ll be going away for a very long time.’
David Taylor staggered along the hallway, under the weight of a large cardboard box, to the sun room at the back of the house. He set the box next to the others then sat down on it and mopped his brow. ‘That’s the last one,’ he gasped. He glanced around. ‘Sorry about the mess, Claire. I’ll have it sorted in a couple of days. What is the temperature anyway?’
‘In the shade, about thirty-one,’ Claire told him, ‘but it must be twice that in that old van of yours. I hope your paints will be all right.’ She popped the tab on a can of beer and handed it to him. ‘That should help,’ she said, and opened a can for herself.
He raised the can in a gesture of thanks and drank. ‘I packed them in the cooler, so they’ll be fine,’ he assured her as he wiped his mouth. ‘And thanks for everything, Claire. I really don’t know where I would have gone if you hadn’t offered me this. And the light in here is fantastic.’
David took another drink. ‘They let me see Kevin this morning,’ he said abruptly. ‘Ten minutes, that’s all they’d allow us. I still don’t understand what happened. I can’t believe that he was a member of that gang, although it does explain why he wanted me to cover for him that morning, and the way he was acting before and after Dad was killed. I wanted to ask him so much, but as I said, we only had ten minutes. But Stephanie . . .?’ He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t seem possible that she could have done the things the police are saying she did, yet Kevin says it’s true.