Unnatural Wastage

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Unnatural Wastage Page 13

by Betty Rowlands


  ‘How did Julie and Ellerman come to be living in The Laburnums?’

  ‘Apparently Ellerman said his flat was too small for the two of them and as Julie’s grandfather was moving out anyway after the death of his wife he let them live there while they looked for another place, although they don’t seem to have spent much time looking. They went on a few foreign trips, which confirms what Ellerman told us. Naturally after Julie died the old gentleman booted Ellerman out and he just gave his tenants notice and went back to his own place. The poor gentleman broke down several times while he was telling me all this and I felt really guilty at upsetting him.’

  ‘You obviously handled it very well to get him to confide in you so much,’ said Leach. ‘Good work, Sukey. So that’s another lie Ellerman has told us.’

  ‘May I say something else, sir?’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘I didn’t make any reference to Fenella Tremaine’s murder and neither did Mr Armitage, but when I got up to go he said, “Good luck with your enquiries; I hope the swine gets what’s coming to him.”’

  ‘You think he guessed what prompted your visit?’

  ‘I’m sure of it, sir. It so happens he’d been reading one of the tabloids when I got there.’

  ‘I don’t imagine he’s the only one. The only reason Ellerman’s name hasn’t been mentioned in any of the media reports is that one or two editors are still counting the cost of a previous indiscretion. Vicky. Let’s hear from you. Was Nancy able to add anything?’

  ‘Not really, sir. If Fenella did have an abortion at any time it would have been some years ago as she was past normal childbearing age when she was killed. Nancy has no recollection of her mother having her appendix out, which is probably how it would have been explained to a child, but of course it might have happened while Nancy was away at school.’

  ‘In which case it was probably long before Fenella met Ellerman,’ said Leach. ‘I don’t think we need pursue that line any further. Penny?’

  ‘I checked with Sergeant Drury, sir; he’s in charge of uniformed at Sycamore Park and he said they’ve been calling on the residents and enquiring about who was wearing what on the night of the murder. Obviously they’re looking for a man, preferably one who corresponds roughly to the description given by Ms Springfield. So far they haven’t encountered any opposition; most people claimed they couldn’t remember; one or two gentlemen handed over what they thought they might have been wearing and that’s been sent to forensics.’

  ‘It’ll be a while before we get any results back,’ said Leach, ‘and to be frank I’m none too optimistic, but we have to keep trying.’ At that moment his telephone rang. ‘Leach . . . that’s great news . . . well done!’ He put down the phone. ‘That was Sergeant Drury. Someone has handed in what he’s ninety per cent sure is the sheath belonging to Ellerman’s knife.’

  Five minutes after Sukey arrived home that evening Harry rang her doorbell.

  ‘It’s lovely to see you,’ she said as she let him in. ‘How was your weekend?’ Harry had taken his father on a visit to one of his cousins in Lancashire.

  ‘All right. We watched some good cricket but there’s something else I’d much rather have been doing.’ He set about proving the truth of this statement and she was in no hurry to discourage him. Eventually, when he allowed her to draw breath, she said softly, ‘You smell lovely and fresh – have you just showered?’

  ‘As it happens, I have. I needed it after the journey.’

  ‘I think I’ll do the same. I won’t be long.’

  ‘You do that and then I’ll tell you what I’ve planned for this evening.’ His kiss left her in no doubt what plans he had in mind.

  Later, as they drank a glass of wine over the remains of a casserole she had prepared over the weekend, he said, ‘Have there been any developments in the Tremaine murder?’

  ‘As it happens, there have. It’ll be officially announced at tomorrow’s press briefing.’

  ‘You mean I have to wait till then?’

  ‘If I tell you, will you promise not to rush home and call your editor?’

  He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘I promise. I’ll make it worth your while,’ he added in a throbbing, mock seductive tone.

  ‘How could I refuse such an offer?’ she replied, affecting a sexy whisper. Then she went on in her normal voice, ‘Oh all right, I trust you. We had a message just before leaving work this evening that a metal sheath that almost certainly belongs to the knife that killed Fenella Tremaine has been handed in by a member of the public, who found it using a metal detector. It was lying under a hedge at the edge of a field a couple of miles away and there’s no doubt it’s the one because the design matches the carving on the handle.’

  ‘That’s brilliant!’ said Harry. ‘Any chance of getting the name of the guy who found it?’

  ‘I’ve no idea who it was. It might be revealed at the briefing but whoever it is may prefer not to be identified.’

  ‘True,’ he admitted. ‘I guess if there are no prints on it other than his and Ellerman’s it will pretty well wrap up the case. All right,’ he added hastily as she drew a sharp breath, ‘I know we have to pretend we don’t know the name of your chief suspect.’

  ‘As long as you don’t publish it,’ she warned him. ‘Anyway, forensics will go over the sheath with a toothcomb in the hope of finding prints or other evidence on it, but of course it’ll take time. We have to be thankful it hasn’t rained since the murder.’

  ‘Plus it’s lucky it was made of metal,’ Harry commented. ‘A lot of those knives come in leather sheaths.’

  ‘We need all the luck we can get,’ said Sukey. ‘It could have been lying there undetected for ages – and if it had been found, leather isn’t the easiest of materials to lift prints from. Just the same,’ she added disconsolately, ‘even if the only prints we find on it are Ellerman’s it won’t prove conclusively that he killed Fenella. He’ll simply stick to his story that someone stole the knife and wore gloves while using it. Of course, none of the people known to have visited his flat recently is likely to have worn gloves without anyone noticing. Although,’ she added after a moment’s thought, ‘come to think of it he accused Wilkins of stealing it while he was there to do some maintenance job for which he might conceivably have been wearing gloves.’ She reached for her notebook. ‘I’ll mention it to DS Rathbone tomorrow; he might think it’s worth checking.’

  ‘It says in our evening edition that a post-mortem on Jennifer Freeman is being held tomorrow,’ said Harry. ‘You seemed to think the time the accident happened might be important, but why?’

  ‘I’d just like to know if it was before or after her visit to Holmwood, that’s all. I think I’ll have a word with the traffic department. No,’ she said quickly seeing that he was about to repeat the question, ‘even if it was when I think it was, I’m not saying anything at the moment. And in any case, if the PM doesn’t reveal anything suspicious I suppose I’ll just have to forget the whole thing.’

  ‘Well, you can’t stop me trying to figure it out for myself. Maybe I’ll pay Major Howes another visit.’

  ‘That’s up to you.’

  On Tuesday afternoon, Patsy Godwin laid aside the Echo and Henry immediately jumped on her vacant lap. ‘Guess what, they’ve found the sheath belonging to the knife that killed the woman who lives near Cousin Kate,’ she informed the cat as she stroked his glossy fur. ‘And there’s a bit more about that accident; you know, the one I told you about when another of her neighbours was killed. She was so upset; she rang me up in such distress when she heard about it. She kept on about how awful it was that two single women had suffered such violent deaths and I think she’s terrified she might be a third. I wonder if I should go and stay with her for a few days. Yes, I knew you wouldn’t like the idea,’ she said as the purring ceased abruptly, ‘and she does have that nice Mr Yardley to keep an eye on her. Perhaps I’d better not go just yet; I might be in the way! What do you think, Hen
ry?’ She gave him an encouraging tickle behind one ear, but it was several minutes before the purring began again.

  FIFTEEN

  When Sukey arrived home on Wednesday evening she found a message from Harry. ‘If you haven’t already spotted the report, you’ll be interested to know it concerns the post-mortem on Jennifer Freeman. Call me for details.’

  Sukey hastily searched through the pages of the evening edition of the Echo. The report, when she found it, merely stated that although the driver had recently consumed a small amount of alcohol, the level in her blood was minimal and there was no evidence of a medical condition that might have caused her to lose control of her vehicle.

  She rang Harry immediately. ‘I’ve just got home and picked up your call. The report doesn’t say anything significant so what details have you learned?’

  ‘What you’ve read is all that’s been released to the press in advance of the inquest, but it so happens one of the morgue attendants is an old school friend of mine and—’

  ‘And you’re going to tell me there’s something fishy about the accident?’ Sukey interrupted eagerly.

  ‘Not exactly fishy, but Sam did get the impression from a comment the pathologist made to the copper who was there to witness the proceedings that he’d found something he described as slightly unusual and worth mentioning in his report. He didn’t catch what the something was, but thinks it will almost certainly come up at the inquest. It’s tomorrow, by the way.’

  ‘That early? She’s only been dead a week.’

  ‘Which rather suggests the pathologist has had a word in the coroner’s ear, don’t you think?’

  ‘It certainly looks that way.’

  ‘Is there any chance you can be there?’

  ‘If only!’ Sukey sighed. ‘There’s no way I’d be allowed to take time off from the Tremaine case to attend an inquest on a victim of a road traffic accident just because she happened to be one of Fenella’s neighbours. Harry, is there any chance you could be there?’

  ‘I didn’t think you’d be able to make it, which is why I asked my editor if I could cover it. He said no at first; said it was a routine job for a cub reporter and he had more important things for me to do. But I hinted that there might possibly be a link with something bigger which could mean a scoop for the Echo and in the end he agreed.’

  ‘That’s great, Harry. Thanks so much.’

  ‘Any news your end? Have forensics found anything useful on the sheath?’

  ‘Give them a chance. They’ve only had it for a couple of days. But I did manage to get a word with the traffic division and they didn’t find any mechanical defect in Jennifer’s car to account for the accident. No other vehicle involved and no witnesses – they think she must have lost concentration and tried to take the bend too fast. They’d had a call from someone who said she’d been at a business meeting and appeared perfectly all right when she left. Indications are he didn’t want his name released to the press.’

  ‘Well, that should put paid to all the rumours about a serial killer,’ said Harry. ‘Presumably all will be revealed at the inquest . . . and maybe your hunch will be laid to rest.’

  ‘We shall see.’

  ‘Anyway, I’ll come round tomorrow evening and tell you about it. Shall I bring food?’

  ‘No, that’s all right. It’s my turn to do the cooking.’

  ‘See you then. Good night. Sleep well. Love you.’

  ‘Love you too.’

  As Sukey put the phone down her pulses were tingling with excitement, but this time it was almost as much in anticipation of what Harry would have to tell her as the sheer pleasure of seeing him. ‘I’ll bet it was Brian Seaton who made that call,’ she said aloud as she prepared her supper. ‘There is a link, I just know there is.’

  As soon as the team reported for duty the following morning they were summoned to DCI Leach’s office. ‘Chief Superintendent Baird managed to get forensics to fast-track their examination of the sheath that was handed in on Monday and they’ve sent this preliminary report.’ He waved the sheet of paper he was holding. ‘There’s no doubt it belongs to Ellerman’s knife, but as far as prints go it doesn’t tell us a great deal. The guy who found it recognized it as soon as he picked it up; fortunately he had the common sense to wrap it in his handkerchief to avoid further contamination. He was happy to give us his prints for elims, which was a great help. The only other identifiable prints forensics could find are Ellerman’s, but indications are that the sheath has been handled by more than one other person. That’s hardly surprising when you consider its history. He claims to have bought it in a souvenir shop in India where any number of people might have handled it before Ellerman decided to buy it. They admit the same applies to the knife itself, of course, although in that case the way the prints on the handle are smudged suggests the killer may have worn gloves. What does that suggest to you? Yes, Sukey?’ he said as she raised her hand.

  ‘Isn’t it possible, sir, that another person, knowing of Ellerman’s rivalry with Fenella and believing it could be a motive for killing her, had a motive of his own for wanting her out of the way. He – or she, it could conceivably have been a woman – stole Ellerman’s knife and used it to kill her with the intention of incriminating him.’

  ‘You’re thinking of Wilkins, the caretaker?’

  ‘Not necessarily, sir. For one thing, he doesn’t fit the description of the man Kate Springfield claims to have seen on the night of the murder.’

  ‘We can’t be certain the man she saw was the killer,’ Rathbone pointed out.

  ‘True.’ Leach considered for a few moments. ‘We haven’t seriously considered the possibility that the killer was a woman,’ he began slowly, ‘but Fenella wasn’t very heavy and it’s possible that a strong woman could have picked her up. The only woman who so far as we know had access to the knife in Ellerman’s flat was Jennifer Freeman, who died in a car crash last week. Sukey, you’ve met her. Would you say she was up to it?’

  Sukey thought for a moment. ‘She was quite a bit taller than I am, but I didn’t get much idea of her build. When I met her she was wearing a rather exotic, flowing sort of dress with long sleeves. I suppose she could have been quite muscular, but it didn’t show.’

  ‘What’s the latest about the accident?’

  ‘According to a report in today’s Echo the PM made it clear that she wasn’t over the limit and had no medical condition that could account for a sudden loss of control. Traffic division told me road conditions were good and they found no mechanical defect in the car. The inquest is being held today.’

  Leach raised an eyebrow. ‘So soon? Any idea what time?’

  ‘No, sir. Would you like me to find out?’

  ‘If you can get there, I think you’d better go.’

  The inquest on the death of Jennifer Freeman was held in a building known locally as the village hall, although the surrounding area, once a small village a few miles from the centre, had long since been part of the conurbation that is now the City of Bristol. Sukey slipped into a seat at the back of the hall; across the aisle she saw Harry but deliberately avoided eye contact. An elderly couple and a few other people whom she took to be Jennifer’s parents and friends sat close together in the front row; in the rows behind were a few members of the public. Sitting apart from them were the path­o­logist, Doctor Handley, a uniformed police officer and a woman whom Sukey recognized as a local GP.

  An official called for silence and the coroner, a senior partner in a firm of lawyers, took his seat on the platform and after formally opening the proceedings called Sergeant Killick from the traffic division.

  ‘At three p.m. on Wednesday the thirty-first of July,’ he began, ‘a member of the public made a nine nine nine call to report an accident on the Portishead-to-Clevedon road. All three emergency services attended; apparently the driver had lost control and hit a tree, causing the car to overturn, trapping the woman driver. The fire service had to cut open the driver’s door to en
able ­paramedics to reach her. She was suffering from severe head and chest injuries, a doctor was called and pronounced her dead at the scene.’

  ‘I have read your original report, Sergeant,’ said the coroner, ‘in which you state that road and weather conditions were good, that the deceased person’s car was mechanically sound, that no other vehicle was involved and that in your opinion the driver’s loss of control was probably due to the fact that she was taking a bend at too high a speed. Have you anything to add to that?’

  ‘Only that the driver who reported the accident did not actually witness it,’ said Killick, ‘but he did state that the road was practically empty in both directions at the time. We have appealed for further witnesses, but no one has come forward.’

  ‘Is it possible that an animal had strayed on to the road, causing the driver to brake sharply?’

  ‘There were no tyre marks on the road to suggest that was the case. There is no grazing land along that stretch of the road and we have no reports of any escaped or stray animals in the area.’

  ‘Thank you, Sergeant. You may stand down.’ The coroner referred to some papers on his desk. ‘I do not propose to cause additional distress to Miss Freeman’s parents by asking them to give evidence –’ at this point Sukey noticed the couple in the front row turn to each other with clasped hands and bowed heads – ‘so I will simply inform the court that Miss Freeman was thirty-eight years old, had held a driving licence for twenty years and had an unblemished record. She had owned the car she was driving for a little over eighteen months and the odometer reading when it was recovered by the police was just over six thousand miles. I now call the police pathologist.’ Handley stepped forward and formally confirmed his identity. ‘I understand you carried out the post-mortem examination on Jennifer Freeman’s body,’ the coroner began. ‘What, in your opinion was the cause of death?’

 

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